The Runaway Girls

Copyright © 2024 by Elle Gray | K.S. Gray

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

“Ellie! Ellie, are you here? Where are you?”

“Dude, it’s one in the morning! Do you think you could keep it down?”

Sid Cline was used to being out at one in the morning, so the angry shouts from his neighbor’s open window didn’t bother him. So what if they were sleeping? This time, he had a reason to be outside, other than drinking himself into a stupor until the wee hours of the morning. He was looking for the reason behind his daughter’s empty-but-made bed, her things gone, her absence from his house. Ellie never stayed out this late. Or rather, early. The latest she had ever come home was around eleven, and that was during a Friday night New Year’s Eve party. Ellie wasn’t that kind of girl, which is why her absence was so rattling.

He called up and down the neighborhood but realized how silly that was. She wasn’t going to be hiding out in the bushes that lined his driveway or ducking behind a neighbor’s tree; she would be with other teens unless something happened to her. And Sid refused to think of that option. It simply wasn’t an option!

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sober enough to drive at one in the morning, but he took advantage of this time to jump in his old beater truck and speed down to the shoreline where most of the teens gathered. For a Monday night, there were quite a few of them packed around a bonfire that was probably illegal. He practically threw his truck into park and jumped out, rushing toward the group of teens. “Hello?”

The teens turned to face him, some of their faces wrought with confusion while others sneered as they turned back to the fire. But Sid wasn’t giving up.

“Ellie! Where is she? Is she here?”

“Ellie?” One of the girls with short, curled blonde hair turned to face him. “I haven’t seen her since school let out.”

So she had been at school today. That much he knew. But where was she now? “I haven’t... I can’t... I can’t find her!”

“Well, she’s not here.” The oldest teen there threw a stick into the fire and watched it burst into flame, the glow igniting his nonchalant face before dying down into embers again.

“Has anyone seen her?”

“No.”

“No.”

“I don’t know her.”

The teens showed their uselessness in his search, which drove Sid to run up and down the shore like a madman. “Ellie? Ellie!”

The only sound that answered him was the roar of the breakers as they pounded the surf, rushing up to darken the sand with salt water before being dragged out to sea again. Up and down the shore, he walked until he threw himself down onto the sand just barely out of reach of the waves licking the shore. This was not happening. Simply not happening.

Oh, yes, it was.

Ellie never told him where she was, but she never needed to. He always knew she was hanging out with her friends. Where else would she go? To his knowledge, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Whether she did or not, there was one thing for certain. He had lost her. He buried his face in his hands, weeping loud enough to be slightly heard over the waves.

I’m so incredibly stupid.

He’d told himself a thousand times that he was going to quit drinking. This was the week, this was the month, he’d start after this football weekend, et cetera. But each night had been more enticing, the desire for the drink all the more intense. It pulled him in with a force so strong that if he threw himself into the next riptide, it would pale in comparison to that desire for another whiskey, beer, shot of vodka. The consequences had been stalking him until now, when they became real. He’d finally done it. He had drunk himself into a relationship with the bottle and neglected the most important thing in his life. His daughter. Now, because of this, he had lost the chance to redeem his life. Because now, he had no reason to try and redeem it.

Ellie was gone.

Olivia Knight focused on the constant whir of the tires on the ground as her fiancé and partner, Brock Tanner, drove their car back to Belle Grove. The monotony of listening to the engine roar aided the feeling of being trapped behind the windshield, making her feel more tired than she actually was. Some conversation might do the trick to break up the hypnotic sound of time crawling by before they were home.

“That sure didn’t take long.”

Brock gave her that signature grin she loved so much while keeping his eyes on the road. “It was almost too easy if you ask me.” The job had taken them all the way to Warrenton, Virginia, where a local business was tied up in money laundering. It wasn’t a stimulating case, but it was something to do. They had it cracked before lunch, but as they drove back home, the lack of satisfaction from putting another case to bed was obvious.

Brock nodded. “These people didn’t really know what they were doing, but they kept it so well hidden that the locals had to call us in. How does that even work?”

“Still,” Olivia asked. “Aren’t you glad to be working on lighter cases for a while?”

It was still that unspoken topic between them. Her thoughts turned back to the events of a few months ago when the Gamemaster had taxed their emotions and abilities to their limits. Dealing with Adeline Clarke and the constant sick, twisted games she played with them had taken every ounce of energy that she and Brock had, wringing their emotions out and putting them both into a state of reflection. During that time, Yara’s betrayal and suicide had brought Brock down into a dark place. She was glad to see him out of that. Olivia was grateful to not be constantly on the run, dealing with tragedy after tragedy—but part of her hated to admit that, well… she was bored.

“I don’t know.” Brock shook his head, eyes still on the road. “I guess I’m kind of missing part of the fieldwork. It was not anything like what we went through, but just getting out, traveling, and solving the cases. It’s stimulating, you know.”

Oh, she knew. Despite what they went through, Olivia still had that craving to get back out in the field again and work a real case. She wasn’t sure if she was ready emotionally, but she wanted to. Not that the ones they’d been working on weren’t real, but they were, well, for lack of a better term, dull.

“It can be.” She didn’t miss the hesitation in Brock’s voice. “So long as they’re not wracking our emotions to their limits. I am ready to start doing a lot more fieldwork, though.”

“We will, one of these days.” They couldn’t stay like this forever. They were some of the top agents, especially working together, and sooner, rather than later, they were probably going to be needed out in the field again. Olivia secretly hoped so. Now that she’d had some time to settle down, she had a strong urge to sink her teeth into a good, involved case again. Solving a case in a day or two was nothing like the work of digging into a project, putting two and two together until they could string together the end goal. There was nothing like doing that with Brock. She loved that; the two of them working together, tossing out ideas to untangle what was often a mess of clues. That was just one of many things she loved about him and being with him.

Thoughts of her love for Brock brought her attention down to her left hand, her engagement ring glittering in the late afternoon light that spilled across her lap through the windshield. She lifted her fingers as if to see it better and a smile touched her face. She remembered what it had been like that day in Barcelona. Brock had asked her to dress up nicely, so she had gone all out, and her happiness had been overwhelming. Each time she thought about that moment, she couldn’t help herself but feel the same rush of happiness. How could one person be this happy?

Brock broke into her thoughts with a sigh. “We’re almost there. I can’t wait to be back home again. These road trips get to me after a while.”

“This is nothing.” Olivia laughed, lightly. “Hey, on that note. What do you say to stopping by the diner for a late lunch before heading back to the apartment?”

The eager smile on his face reminded her of a kid at Christmastime. “You don’t have to ask me twice!”

The next morning, as Olivia and Brock were settling down to breakfast—granola cereal for her, and eggs, bacon, pancakes, and also granola cereal for him—her cell phone rang. She picked it up, reading the contact that came up on the screen. “It’s Calvin.”

“Oh, boy.” Brock set his spoon down. “A new assignment.”

Olivia swiped her screen and answered on the first ring. “Agent Knight.”

“Morning, Olivia.”

Hearing a greeting come from her and Brock’s boss was something that Olivia had to adjust to, along with being called by her first name on occasion. Their last boss, Jonathan James, had always been gruff and to the point, always giving them their assignments with neither greeting nor goodbye and never using anything but her last name. She missed him, angered over his untimely death, but Hugh Calvin wasn’t doing too bad of a job taking his place. Even if he was practically Jonathan’s complete opposite—chatty, conversational, actually very pleasant and personable, it was an adjustment, for sure.

“Morning. What can I do for you?”

“Great job on the Warranton case. I was reading your report, and I have to say that I’m still impressed that you got that done so quickly. I don’t know what it is you two have that gives you such great chemistry but I’m glad to have it in the Bureau.”

Olivia tightened her lips in an awkward smile. “Um. Thanks.”

“Anyway, sorry to be brief, but I have a new assignment for you and Tanner.”

Olivia switched her phone over to speaker and Brock leaned in closer to hear. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the higher-ups, figuring out how to get you back in the game, so to speak, and I think I’ve got something for you,” he went on. “This one isn’t going to be like the last few cases I’ve sent you. Are you and Tanner up for a challenge?”

Olivia shot a glance up to Brock, who met her gaze. Olivia answered for both of them. “Yes, I think we are.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Ever heard of Cape Fremont, South Carolina?”

“No.”

“Yeah, there’s reasons for that. It’s a small town along the coast. For the past two years, there have been reports of teenagers going missing at different points of the year. No one knows why, and no bodies have ever been recovered, but there’s talk about either some kind of teen cult or worse, trafficking.”

“How many teens are we talking about here?” Brock threw in the question.

“Over the past two years, about twenty.”

Olivia sucked in a breath through her teeth. Twenty teens going missing in New York, although tragic, wasn’t a huge deal, but twenty from a small town from the way he was describing? Something was definitely up.

“The most recent case was Ellie Cline, a local. Her father called in a missing persons report after she didn’t come home from school, but she hasn’t been found. She, like the others, has vanished without a trace. That was the final straw for the local PD to request our assistance.”

“Do they have any leads?”

“It seems that most of the missing kids just vanished. No leads, no evidence, no trail of any kind. They’ve just never gotten close enough to get anywhere. There was some smoke about the school, possibly, given that all the kids went there. But it’s the kind of town with one school, so it never really panned out. Local PD wonders if there’s some sort of cult activity operating out of there.”

That raised Olivia’s eyebrows a little. Cult activity was something she was more than familiar with.

“Now, since this is a delicate situation that involves a possible cult or some trafficking, I would need you and Tanner to go undercover. We can’t risk blowing the whistle and scaring away the evidence if someone hears about two FBI agents sniffing around.”

Undercover. Now that was a word Olivia hadn’t heard in a long time. Those were usually the most thrilling cases, and the thought of going undercover with Brock excited her. “Okay.”

“Since this is a coastal town, I’m going to have you go undercover as two newlyweds on your honeymoon if you choose to take this assignment.”

“Me and Olivia as newlyweds? I don’t know… that seems a little far-fetched.” Brock winked up at her, trapping her with that boyish grin of his and she couldn’t help but smile.

“You got it.” They were practically newlyweds already. That sparkling engagement ring on her left finger only added to that radiant bridal glow that would be more convincing than any performance she could have given without it.

“Now—please, I need you to be completely honest here. Are you up for this? I know I’ve been handing you some smaller cases given the circumstances, but if you’re ready to get back into the field and do some heavy-duty investigating, you get first crack at this one.”

“We’re ready,” Brock answered for them both this time, blurting it out without a thought. Seeing him eager to jump on the case brought a smile to her face. Olivia was more than excited about the opportunity to dig into a real case again. This would be a nice, easy entrance back into it, and she would be ready to get started. “When do we start?”

“I need you down there as early as Thursday night.”

“We can do that,” Brock assured Calvin.

“Good. I’ll make the arrangements and get some information together for you. We’ll keep in touch.” With that, Olivia’s phone returned to her home screen as Calvin hung up.

Olivia settled back in her chair, setting her arms on the table as if hugging her cereal bowl. “Hmm.” She waited until the conversation with Calvin was over before she sparked a teasing conversation. “A newlywed couple on a honeymoon, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a bad idea to have the honeymoon before the wedding?”

Brock laughed, a sound she loved, that somehow gave her comfort just by hearing it. It was so good to have him back, his mourning period for Yara having come to a close. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a practice run for when we do get married.” He grinned right back at her.

They shared some laughter and picked up their breakfast again. Well, Olivia did. Brock just sat there, studying her until he couldn’t anymore. “Olivia?”

She looked up at him, not needing to ask what he wanted.

Brock signed and leaned forward. “Are you really ready to jump back into this?”

Was she? She knew she’d been missing it, she just hadn’t realized how much until Calvin called with an exciting announcement. “I’m very ready. I guess I haven’t realized how much I’ve missed it until now. Are you ready?” He’d better be. Because ready or not, they were going to South Carolina.

His quiet smile told her that he was in the same boat. “I think so. Like you said, this is a perfect case to ease us back into things again.”

Olivia nodded. “The way I see it? Someone’s got to find out what’s happening to those teens down there.” She gave a shrug. “Might as well be us.”

She and Brock finished their breakfast, but her mind was already spinning the case over and over in her head. She found herself plotting out ways to get to the core of the issue, maybe through some teens or some of the teachers in the area. In her mind, she was already there, working the case.

She could hardly wait to get to Cape Fremont.

Olivia hardly noticed the windshield time that kept her and Brock on the road since before dawn that morning. She and Brock had gone to the newly built headquarters to receive the file containing all the information about their next assignment and Olivia was already devouring it. Each file contained a headshot of each missing teen, their details, and follow-up notes about the case. Twenty or so teenagers, and not a single one of them recovered. It made Olivia sick to think what might have happened to them, and how their parents never got that closure. If she had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“I can’t help but notice that there are seven guys and thirteen girls, fourteen if you count Ellie.” Olivia wasn’t sure that they could fully count Ellie in, yet, as it had only been a week. She might be connected to these without-a-trace teens or she might be a part of a different case. Her body might turn up or maybe she’d return home, proving to be little more than a runaway with a boyfriend. Either way, Olivia was keeping all of her options open.

“So we’re thinking that the girls are the bigger target, here?” Brock pondered. “How old is the youngest boy?”

Olivia flipped through the pages. “Fourteen.”

“And the youngest girl?”

“Thirteen.” Olivia ground the number between her teeth. The red-haired girl had gone missing two years ago, one of the first, from what it looked like. Olivia found her photograph and held it up for Brock to see, giving him time to shoot two or three glances at it. “See? Look at her. Look how adorable she is.”

Brock scanned the photo for a few seconds before returning his eyes to the road. “She’s a cutie, from what I can see.”

“She is.” Olivia put the picture down, smoothing it across her lap, and let her eyes wander over the page. Melissa Downs, the name read. Her fiery red hair brushed straight around her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling behind a face of freckles. She wore a blue and white sweater with a sea-shell necklace hanging around her neck. The necklace was in the shape of a shell with a pearl nestled into its caged center. Unique, Olivia thought.

“Thirteen years old.” Olivia gave a series of headshakes. “It’s sickening to think that someone would do this to someone so young. No matter what happened, runaway, cult, whatever, she’s out there in a hostile environment if she’s even still alive. No one should have to go through that, especially not a girl barely into her teens.”

Brock’s face softened. “That’s what I love about you,” He pointed out. “You just... care for everyone, don’t you?”

Olivia blew a raspberry. “Who wouldn’t care about these kids?”

“I don’t just mean these kids,” Brock went on. “I’m thinking about our very first case. Those missing teenage girls.”

“And it turns out they were taken by someone missing her own daughter,” she said. “I just hope we can have another happy ending this time…”

“Well, whatever the situation, I know that we can get to the bottom of it. This is what we do. What we’ve always done. And as long as we have each other, we can solve anything.”

Olivia reached over and squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

They drove on in silence for a little bit, each contemplating the case.

“So, do they have anything in common other than being teenagers?” Brock’s question aligned with her own thoughts.

She scanned a few bits of information in the file, but nothing stood out to her. “It doesn’t appear that way. They’re all from Cape Fremont and they’re all between the ages of thirteen and nineteen, but other than that, there is no common denominator. Different eye color, hair color, just from that same town. Different races, different backgrounds… if there’s a commonality here I’m not seeing it right away.”

“What about school? Do they all go to the same school?”

“I’m guessing so.” Olivia carefully read that portion in each of the files. “Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. There’s only one school in town. No private schools or anything, so it makes sense they all go to the same one.”

“And all of them disappeared without a trace? No evidence ever found or recovered?”

Olivia gave a series of nods. “Yes, from what I’ve gathered.”

“So how are we going to go about this?” Brock turned on his turn signal, exiting onto the highway that would take them to Cape Fremont.

“Connections, connections.” Olivia set her gaze directly in front of her, looking out of the windshield as if all the answers were written on the freeway. “I’m thinking that there are two ways that we can find the heart of the matter. Through the teens and through the adults they associate with. We start by scoping out the area for a day or two and getting a feel for the town.”

“Should be easy to do.” Brock grinned a bit as he merged. “Tourists are always wandering around.”

“Exactly.” Olivia agreed. “We’re a happy, outgoing couple out on our honeymoon and we like to chat with the locals. If we want to find out what happened to the teens, then we’re going to have to find some teens to observe. We’ll pick up some clues, somewhere.”

“We always do.”

The highway took them further and further from Belle Grove and in no time, the telltale signs of a coastal town came into view. Palm trees lined the edge of the road. For a non-native, they looked almost planted, as if someone was trying to make something look like an ocean town. Olivia had to remind herself that they grew naturally here. The humidity doubled, probably a result of the location and a passing storm that looked like it just doused everything before moving on.

They drove into Cape Fremont, avoiding the conglomeration of cars that lined the road. Olivia glanced at the time. 3:30, probably the time that would see school let out and parents navigating the traffic to get their kids home. Had their safety measures doubled since Ellie Cline’s disappearance? Did they ever let their kids out of their sight? They did seem to be on high alert, Olivia thought, as Brock slowed his speed way down to avoid tailgating the car in front of them.

“School traffic.” Brock huffed with enough disgust to make broccoli look good.

Olivia laughed a bit. “Don’t sound so excited, there, babe.”

“Oh, I just love school traffic.” Sarcasm spread his lips. “It’ll take you twenty minutes to get somewhere that’s five minutes away.”

“Actually,” Olivia held up the GPS. “It’s eleven minutes away.”

“And the route is all in red on GPS, isn’t it?”

Olivia pinched her fingers together on the screen, checking out the entire route. “Not once we turn on Glenn Street in a quarter mile.”

The quarter-mile took a long time to pass, but once Brock turned on Glenn Street, it was only a few more “left, right” turns before he pulled into the parking lot behind the hotel. He rolled his window down to talk to an attendant and Olivia caught the roar of the ocean waves. They sounded similar to a windy day, but the saltwater in the air gave it away. They were here! The more she listened, the more excited she grew about working this case. What better assignment could there be other than working in a coastal town right next to the ocean and listening to the beach sounds every night?

Brock thanked the attendant and drove the car into the parking lot. The hotel blocked the view of the ocean with a few cars lining the numbered parking spaces. Rather than the large, traditional rectangle-shaped condos that offered limited deck space, the hotel was shaped more like a large house, settled behind a grove of juniper bushes and palm trees. A small bridge led over the grove to the beach. Olivia had noticed that as she came in.

“This is adorable.”

“Very honeymoon material.” Brock grinned as he unclicked his seat belt.

He and Olivia gathered their bags together. They got into line behind two other couples to wait to be checked in. The couple in front of them looked like they traveled a lot. The amber-tanned skin that matched the flowing black hair of the woman was a direct contrast to the paler-skinned blond man who stood next to her, talking softly to her. The woman nodded at something he was saying and as she did, her sunglasses started to slip off her head backwards. Before she could reach up to grab them, the sunglasses flew off of her head and right toward Olivia.

“Whoops!” Olivia’s reflexes reached out and caught the wayward sunglasses before they could hit the ground. The man and the woman turned to see her just as she did. “Oh, I’m sorry!” The woman reached for her glasses, a small pink blush enhancing the color of her face.

“It’s all good.” Olivia smiled and handed her sunglasses back to her. “Happens to all of us at some point or another.”

“Great reflexes.” The man nodded to the hand that Olivia used to catch the sunglasses. “I wish mine were like that, but I can’t even twist a cap on a water bottle without sending it flying most of the time.”

“You and me both.” Brock laughed a bit.

“Thank you for saving them.” The woman laughed and held up her sunglasses. “Are you staying here as well?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes. We just got married and this is our honeymoon spot.”

“Oh!” Both the man’s and the woman’s faces lit up, the woman’s more so than the man’s. The man had more of a stoic stillness about him while his wife seemed more outgoing. It didn’t deter from his friendliness, however.

“Congratulations!” The woman laid a hand on her husband’s back. “This is the perfect spot for a honeymoon. My husband and I have traveled here often. It’s quiet, which appeals to us since we don’t like a lot of noise. When you travel, you’re trying to get away from the noise, right?”

“Right.” Olivia beamed as if it really was her honeymoon, hiding the wistfulness that tugged at her heart from the two strangers. If only it were the truth. Someday soon, she reminded herself. In the meantime, she’d enjoy her engagement and focus on the matters at hand. “So, you come here often?”

“Oh, from time to time. We’ve been all over the world. We’ve been to all fifty states at least once,” the man replied, his voice tone more even than the rise and fall of his wife’s.

Olivia wanted to blurt out that she’d almost been to all fifty, but she figured that might be too obvious. She didn’t want to have to answer why she traveled so much, so she kept the conversation mostly focused on them. “Really? That’s amazing.”

“We were going to go to Hawaii for our end-of-summer vacation, but with the tropical disturbance down there and all, we didn’t want to risk a hurricane coming through.” The woman laughed. “By the way, I’m Angela and this is my husband, Carl.”

“Nice to meet you.” Brock nodded to Olivia. “I’m Brock Thomas and this is my wife, Olivia.”

“Congratulations, again.” Carl inclined his head to both of them.

“I can help whoever’s next,” called out the clerk.

“Well, have a good honeymoon. I’m sure our paths will cross again at some point.” Angela smiled before moving up to the front counter with Carl.

“Oh, thank you. We sure will.”

Olivia and Brock waited for their turn, patiently. After a short check-in with the clerk, they made their way to the room on the top floor. “Did you see the north side of the hotel?” Brock asked once they were alone on the staircase. “There’s a wrap-around deck and what looks like a nice outdoor bar.”

Olivia had to laugh. “Somehow I’m not surprised that you spotted the bar…”

The staircase ended on the second floor and they stepped onto flat ground again. “For real. I was thinking that might be a good starting point. It’s close to the hotel and, well, where does everyone go? Bars, restaurants, places like that.”

“I agree.” Olivia certainly wouldn’t turn down the idea of sharing a drink with Brock while they were working. “But first, let’s get to our room.”

They checked into their room, which not surprisingly looked more like a house than a hotel room. It was fancy enough for the bed to have curtains as it faced the patio doors, the décor was a mixture of sand tan and light greens and a ficus plant stood by the window. “This is nice. Very cute.”

Brock set the bags down by the bed and stretched. “It sure is.”

Olivia walked over to the patio doors and drew back the curtains. She was met with the white sands that stretched out before the grey pounding of the surf and the muffled sound of the waves coming onto shore before the hiss of retreating back to the ocean. She felt Brock come up behind her and within a few seconds, his arms encircled her. She reached up to take hold of his arms as he swayed back and forth with her, watching the ocean for a few peace-filled moments.

Finally, he broke the silence. “What do you say we find something to eat?”

Of course he was thinking about food. Not that she minded, she was rather hungry herself. She laughed, gently and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Brock released her and she wished that she could have stayed in his embrace forever. She pulled her phone up and Googled nearby restaurants. “There’s one called Breakers, right on the shoreline. It’s close enough to the beach and the hotel, we can probably walk to it.” She turned to see him. “Want to give it a try?”

“I’d love that.” He shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “I’d love to not have to drive anywhere again tonight.”

If Olivia and Brock weren’t feeling the coastal vibe, then Breakers took care of that. The restaurant had a tiki style to it, consisting of a back patio that overlooked the ocean, and gentle tropical music played overhead. The patio had a thatched roof and some lamps that lined the railing to give it a rather romantic appearance. A few string lights hung from the roof, lighting the guests below. A counter that looked somewhat like a bar stood in front while the back corner hosted a room dedicated to a pool table and what looked like an ongoing game. Tables scattered throughout the restaurant, on the patio and on the inside. It was busy, not just with people but with the chaotic way it was organized. Still, it looked nice and inviting.

“Hello, two?” A smiling waitress sprang over to them. The girl looked to be in her early thirties with dark curls of brown hair, blue eyes and a name tag that read Mila.

“Yes, please.” Brock nodded to her.

Mila gathered two menus into her arms. “All of our two-tops are full at the moment. Would you like to wait or would you like to be seated at the bar?”

“The bar is fine,” Olivia answered, already warming to the girl’s cheerful attitude.

“Okay, perfect!”

As Mila led them to the bar, Olivia noticed how hopping the place was for a Thursday night. If it was this packed toward the middle of the week, then what was it like on the weekend? Mila sat them near the end of the bar where she could get a clear view of the room where the game of pool was taking place. Olivia’s quick perusal of the room told her that it was packed full of teens. She couldn’t help but do a silent headcount. Two young guys, sixteen, seventeen maybe, were circling the pool table with their sticks, intent on angling for the best shot.

“Welcome to Breakers.” Mila set the menus before them and slipped behind the bar. “We’ve got an assortment of delicious seafood, but we also have hamburgers, hot dogs, things like that for people who might not like seafood. We’re also known to have the best milkshakes and smoothies in town. Can I interest you in one of those to start you off with a drink?”

It sounded too good to resist. Olivia ordered a raspberry milkshake while Brock stuck to a traditional vanilla. Brock also went for the cheeseburger while Olivia decided to be creative and try the salmon.

“I’ll be right back with those milkshakes.” Mila left them with a smile. Olivia didn’t miss the way that she cast a small look down to the edge of the bar where a handsome-looking blond man was sitting. His back was to the counter and he was observing the teens play pool in the other room. Ah, a little romance there, maybe? That look in Mila’s eyes surely hinted at it.

“I like her already,” Brock mentioned. “She’s very good at her job.”

“She has a great attitude.” The girl had an innocence about her as if she had grown up in this coastal town all her life. She probably had, but it suited her. That smile and bounce in her step would be squandered almost immediately in places like New York or Los Angeles. It thrived in small towns like this.

Olivia let her attention wander to the game of pool that had the teens so occupied. She counted nineteen teenagers crammed into the room, all intent on the one game.

“Looks like the stakes are pretty high.” Olivia nodded to the game.

Brock followed her gaze and raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Can it really be that easy to find some teens?”

Her thoughts exactly. Olivia had figured that finding an in with the teens would be as impossible as trying to give a cat a bath. No teen would want to talk to two “old people” like Olivia and Brock but in a nice, open public space like this? It would be a lot easier.

Trying to look without being too obvious, Olivia noticed a group of girls hovering around the outer edges of the room like groupies as they watched an older teen with black hair and what looked like a tattoo on his neck. He seemed to be the leader in the game.

Olivia and Brock’s milkshakes came before long and Olivia had to agree, it was one of the best shakes she’d ever had. The cheers from the game of pool gave them an easy way to observe even as they ate. It sounded like a football game from the way they cheered the players on and even the blond guy at the end of the bar seemed invested with a smile on his face. He had that sort of mentor-like impression, a young guy who was magically gifted with teenagers and had dedicated his life to helping them have a better one. “Good one, Josh. Great angle.”

The black-haired kid acknowledged him before stepping back, giving his opponent another turn.

“Well, looks like we struck gold,” Brock leaned in to murmur in Olivia’s ear. She couldn’t agree more. “I don’t think we’ll see this many teens in one place again outside of school.”

“We probably won’t.” Olivia glanced at him. “But how do we get in there?”

“Leave that to me.” His eyes shone with a plan and Olivia knew he was up to something.

With a final clack of the pool cue against the ball from Josh’s side, the table was cleared of the striped balls and cheers went up from all of the spectating teens. Josh raised the pool cue above his head in victory, looking quite satisfied. Maybe a little arrogant, but not enough to put anyone off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Josh Gallegos, the pool champion!” He bowed and used a fake announcer voice that was still somehow calm. He walked over to his opponent and shook his hand, nodding to him. “Great game, man. Maybe next time.”

Seemed like a decent sort of kid. Olivia caught the feeling that maybe he was the type that everyone looked up to.

As his opponent blended back into the crowd, Josh turned to the remaining spectators, including the ones out in the restaurant, looking around as if seeking out a new champion. “Okay, who’s next against the champion?”

Brock called out to him, that usual grin on his face that made him so good with people. “Not bad, kid. What’s your current winning streak?”

Josh’s attention was drawn to Brock and he gave him a friendly smile along with a nod of his head . “Sixty-one so far this year. Come here every week to perfect my skills. Four years and counting.”

“Four years?” Brock raised a teasing eyebrow. “That’s impressive. Dedicated, too. How do you feel about testing that winning streak?”

“You want to play, man?” Josh’s voice was inviting with no hostility whatsoever. His voice took on a hint of teasing warning. “There’s no one in this town better than me.”

“If you’re offering.”

“Well,” Josh beckoned, half-closing his eyes as a way of inviting him. “Come on over here.”

Brock stood up almost immediately and Olivia laughed as she slipped off the stool. “Oh, boy, this I gotta see.”

The gathering of teenagers parted with enough room for Olivia to stand in their midst. She stood beside a girl with blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. The girl on her other side was also blonde but with a more childish face and higher-pitched voice. “Come on, Josh!” she called out to him in a pinched voice.

Brock had a challenging tease in his eye. The teen that Josh had beaten in the last round racked the balls on the table before removing the triangle rack and stepping back. Josh and Brock were both rubbing some chalk onto the tips of their cues when Josh nodded to him. “You want to break?”

“I’d love to.” Brock stepped up to the pool table like a general planning a battle.

“Come on, Brock.” Olivia’s eyes danced with delight, eager to tease him about possibly losing to a teenager later tonight when it was just them.

With a clack, the balls scattered in all different directions. Brock managed to somehow get one into the hole, though just barely, as it rolled slowly after all the others bounced around.

“Solids for me,” he announced.

“Not bad for a first try.” Josh teased. Olivia noticed that even in the competition and teasing he was sharing with Brock, his voice had somewhat of a monotone to it, more like he was relaxing at a spa than challenging a guy to a game of pool. His chill personality coupled with the moon and stars tattooed on his neck indicated to Olivia that maybe he was a Zen type of kid. Something to keep an eye on.

“Just you wait.” Brock laughed a bit and took his second shot. The cue ball knocked against two or three others, but nothing fell into the pockets. Olivia wondered if it was intentional, to keep the game going longer.

Josh stepped up to the table, eyes intent on the cue ball. With a single shot, he sent a ball whizzing into a Z shape that bounced against the sides of the table three times before landing in a pocket.

The teens surrounding Olivia burst into cheers and applause and she couldn’t help but laugh. “You gotta beat that, honey!”

“Oh, I will.” Brock sent her a teasing glance and a wink. To anyone watching, that wink might have been a simple I got this, but she knew he was trying to communicate with her that he had found an in. And they hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours, yet!

It was Olivia’s turn. While Brock was finding his way into the group through a game of pool, she could talk to the groupies at least. “So this Josh guy, a real champion, is he?”

“He is, in everything he does,” replied the baby-faced blonde. “He’s on the school basketball team, but also comes here to play pool.”

“And he’s amazing in both,” added the blonde to her left.

“Do you guys have to come out and watch him, or do you want to?” Olivia laughed. “I know how these guys can recruit fans even if they don’t want to come.”

Her double-edged question was met with laughter from the pretty blonde to her left. “Oh, no, not Josh! He’s not that kinda guy. He’s very chill and his little teasing is all in fun.”

Another ball was sent into the pocket by Josh and the teens again erupted into applause. Even in the midst of their applause, Olivia noticed how sullen a few of them looked. Due to Ellie’s disappearance, maybe? She could work it into her conversation, but for now?

“You guys probably don’t want a bunch of old people hanging around your little group, huh?”

The girl on her left laughed again and her eyes lit up as she did. Truly a girl who had a love for life. “Oh, you’re not that old! Our teacher, Mrs. Fleming, is about your same age and she’s as young at heart as any of us.” She glanced over, smiled at Olivia. “I’m Susanna, by the way.” She extended her hand. Wow. A mature gesture for a teen.

Olivia shook it. “Olivia Curtis. Well, Thomas, actually.” She nodded to Brock. “That’s my husband of a few days over there. We just got married and this is our honeymoon.”

Susanna and the other girl’s eyes sparkled and they both shared a gasp. “Oh, congratulations!” said the girl to her right.

“That’s so sweet!” Susanna’s cheeks blushed with a smile. “So this is your first night here in Cape Fremont?”

“Yes.”

“And you chose to come hang out with us at Breakers?” Susanna laughed a bit as her eyes continued to dance. “We should feel honored.”

“Yeah, we should.” The other blonde drew Olivia’s attention. “I’m Mae, by the way. So you can remember the first people you hung out with as a married woman!” Even though she seemed excited, Olivia noticed something still veiled her eyes, like she wasn’t able to be fully happy.

“Nice to meet you, Mae.”

“So why did you choose Cape Fremont?” Susanna tilted her head.

Olivia was expecting that. She and Brock had come up with an answer long before the question was asked, so they would be ready to answer it. “Well, we wanted something coastal, but not too overrated like Myrtle Beach or Panama City. I know we’re probably not the only couple to honeymoon here, but it’s not a popular place, so it’s kind of like an exclusive destination for Brock and me.”

Even as she said his name, Brock struck another ball, sending it into a side pocket. A few of the guys on the other side cheered him on and a few “Ooohhh’s” circulated around. Olivia didn’t allow herself to get distracted and neither did the two teens she was conversing with.

“That makes sense.” Susanna gave a series of nods. “It’s like a keepsake memory for you guys. You should get a souvenir from the shop before you leave to mark this special moment.”

Olivia had to ask. “That’s right. Hey, how old are you, Susanna?”

“Seventeen.” Her eyes started to light up again. “Soon to be eighteen this fall.”

“Well, happy early birthday.” Olivia kept her true thoughts to herself. Seventeen years old? Susanna didn’t quite talk like a seventeen-year-old girl. No “like” and “you know” every other word, and the words she did choose sounded more mature, with thought behind them. She seemed intelligent for her age and Olivia admired that. She also admired the light in her eyes that seemed to love life, but also spoke of someone who had seen a little of the ugly side of life, despite her young age.

“And you?” She didn’t want to leave Mae out, so she cast her a glance.

“I wish I were going to be eighteen! I’m so ready to leave this town.” Mae sighed dramatically.

“Why? Isn’t it a dream town?” Olivia fished.

“Not really.” Mae’s face softened, the happiness from earlier, gone. “I mean, it was perfect. But I lost my best friend recently.”

Bingo. She did feel sorry for the teen but wanted to hear more. She let her compassion show on her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“She didn’t die. She went missing.” Mae looked down at her fingers, tangling near where she kept them by her waist.

Susanna had a look of compassion. She reached around Olivia and drew Mae into a hug. “Hey, we’re gonna find her.”

“I doubt it.” Mae’s voice reeked of cynicism that was strong for one so young. Or maybe one who had seen one too many girls go missing.

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Olivia pressed.

Distress replaced the cynicism. Mae looked up at Olivia as if she somehow knew she was there to help. She was probably just venting, little knowing that Olivia was actually here to help. “She went missing after school on Monday. The last time I saw her, we were together in our last class of the day. She seemed to be very happy, you know, kind of at peace.”

Interesting. “Was she not usually like that?”

“No.” Mae shook her head. She had to raise her voice over the noise of the restaurant, which had gotten busier. “Ellie has a really rough home life, so she gets down a lot. Her dad’s an alcoholic. He just happened not to be drunk the night she disappeared. But on the day she disappeared, she seemed, I don’t know. Happy, like she got some good news or something. She didn’t tell me if anything was different, though, and I didn’t think to ask. I was just happy to see her that way.”

Olivia didn’t much like the sound of that. She’d heard of one too many suicide victims who would be depressed until they had made the decision to end their lives. That decision brought them a morbid type of happiness because they knew their pain was going to end. Was that the case with Ellie? Had she been told she’d achieve a higher version of herself, perhaps, with no pain if she joined a cult, maybe? “I see. She was driving, wasn’t she?”

“No, not yet. She was waiting until she could afford her own car.”

Mae was an open book. A teen who didn’t know how to bite her tongue as she spilled her details with a total stranger. Susanna seemed more quiet and reserved. It was the one time that Olivia didn’t mind someone who spilled the tea on everyone’s personal business as it was giving her information on the case in less than twenty-four hours. “I’m very sorry, Mae. It really hurts to lose a friend.” She stole a glance over at Brock. He knew quite well what it was like to lose a friend and the complications and emotions surrounding that. She kept her look brief before turning her head back to her young confidante.

The sadness that doused Mae’s expression was enough to nearly draw tears from her own eyes. Yet another reason she was determined to find out what happened to these teens. To her, they weren’t a case. Every single one of them was a personal, individual story. “I wish I knew what happened, but I hope wherever she is, she somehow found a better life.”

Olivia wanted so much to believe that, too. But she knew better. Runaways hardly ever found a better life, and that was the lesser of any evil that Ellie might have stumbled into. Running away was better than being kidnapped for trafficking or being inducted into some creepy cult, but it wasn’t good, either. She couldn’t tell Mae, though. So she just nodded. “I really hope so, too.”

She, Susanna, and Mae watched the rest of the game in silence when Brock stepped aside to allow Josh to take his win. “Thanks for playing a round with me, man.” Josh’s cool voice thanked Brock as he reached out to shake his hand. “Another round?”

“Nah, we’ll leave you kids to it.” Brock looked back at Olivia. Olivia tried to communicate through her eyes that there were things she wanted to tell him. He caught on and grinned at Josh. “Maybe next time, eh?”

“Maybe next time.” Josh gave him a sideways nod of acknowledgment. “Thanks again, man. May your stars align.”

Olivia tried not to wrinkle her nose at the phrase that struck her as odd. May your stars align? Yeah, this guy was definitely into something. Namaste or otherwise. She let it go as she said goodbye to Susanna and Mae. She and Brock left quite the tip for Mila and then left. Olivia had taken off her flip-flops and walked barefoot across the sand, letting her feet sink into the grains of sand.

“So what was it like to be beaten by a teenager?”

Brock blew a raspberry and snorted a laugh. “I let him win, Olivia, I’m trying to get in good with the kid!”

“Sure you are.” She dragged her words out with a laugh. “Well, while you were over there playing, I was over there working. I got some interesting scoops on a few things.”

“Already?” Brock let loose a single laugh at that. “How do you do that so quickly? I thought it would take at least two or three nights.”

“I have my ways.” Olivia grinned, satisfied with herself. She and Brock shared a laugh before she filled him in on her brief conversation with Susanna and Mae. She especially went into detail about how happy Ellie had been the last day she was seen. “Doesn’t that seem like a telltale sign of suicide? It’s often like that when someone’s about to commit suicide, they are happier when they’ve made up their minds to do it.”

Brock’s face darkened into anger as he agreed. “There are a lot of people out there who are convincing teens to commit suicide to achieve a higher version of themselves or some crap.” He shook his head, disgusted as she was with the whole idea. “Do you think that’s what we’re dealing with here?”

“It’s too early to tell,” Olivia shook her head. “But I think we found a nice go-to place for information.” She nodded her head backward to Breakers. “Looks like that’s a huge hang-out spot for teens. For kids like Josh, anyway. Maybe he can give you some info by and by.”

“He was an interesting kid for sure. Seemed very Zen. Soft-spoken, didn’t get too rough or angry. The perfect ideal for a New-Ager. I’ll see what we can find out from him.”

They reached the stairs that would take them to their hotel, but Brock stopped, slinging an arm around Olivia’s shoulders and grinning at her. “I’m not exactly ready to call it a night, just yet.”

“No?” She returned his teasing smile. “What do you have in mind?”

He didn’t look away but swung his head in the direction of the bar. “Maybe grab a drink?”

“I’d like that.” However, she would hardly be focusing on the drink and her time with Brock as her head was already spinning with questions. She wasn’t ready to call it a night either, so as they climbed the steps and headed toward the bar, she said, “Mae said that Ellie disappeared right after school.”

“Right?”

“So I’m thinking that it might behoove us to check out the school if we can. What if we head over there tomorrow, around the time that the kids get off, and see if we can see anything amiss?”

Brock nodded as he reached to hold the door for her. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s do it.” He held the door and gestured. “After you, madame.”

Olivia snorted a laugh through her nose. “You’re such a nerd.”

The bar had the same kind of tiki style that Breakers did, only much louder and more crowded. Olivia and Brock practically had to call their orders out to the bartender, so they decided to head outside with their drinks once they got them. The noise was starting to pound a headache into Olivia’s skull and the last thing she needed was a migraine their first night here. Outside on the back deck, there was a roaring fire in the stone fire pit and a couple sitting around it.

“Hey, look.” Olivia nodded toward the couple. “Isn’t that Carl and Angela?”

Brock looked over and a smile broke out on his face. “Sure enough.”

Carl and Angela looked up as soon as they heard Brock’s voice and Carl waved at them. “Hey, newlyweds! Out living it up, I see?” Once again, Olivia noted how he took great care to pronounce each word with eloquence, even after what looked like a drink or two.

“Why not?” Brock drew a bit closer, lifting his glass ever so slightly. “We don’t have to punch a clock for the next week, so might as well live it up, huh?”

Brock made the joke as smoothly as a charmer but Olivia had to hide a smile. Little did they know they were getting paid for this. Her mind was already spinning answers to her case, so there never really was a time when she stopped working.

“Do you want to join us?” Angela’s honey-smooth voice invited. “We aren’t going to stay much longer, but we aren’t going in right away. This is the best spot in the bar.”

Olivia and Brock cast a look between them, Olivia being the first to agree. “Well, sure if we’re not intruding.”

“Ah.” Carl waved her off. “New friends are never an intrusion. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Thank you.” Brock echoed Olivia’s response and they settled in beside the couple on the wicker couch that surrounded the fire.

“So how long have you two been together?” Angela pinned Olivia with the question when she’d barely even had time to sit back.

“Oh, we go way back.” Olivia couldn’t lie about that as she took a sip of her drink.

“We worked together for the longest time before we realized, we work together.” Brock topped her answer off.

Laughter circled among the two couples at the cringe-worthy play on words Brock had attempted to make. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Carl inquired. He looped an arm around his wife, taking his time. She didn’t move in to cuddle with him but she didn’t seem to mind it, either. Signs that they’d probably been married for a while. “So where are you guys from?”

“A little town in Virginia, an hour or two outside of DC,” Olivia answered with another sip of her drink. “You probably haven’t heard of it.”

“Oh,” Angela’s perfectly done eyebrows raised. “They have the best autumns there. Carl and I went up there one October just to view the splendor of the falling leaves.”

“It is pretty,” Olivia agreed. “I’m sorry to admit that it’s been a while since I slowed down and looked at it, though.” With her duties in the FBI and all, she was usually running here, running there and lacking time to stop and smell the roses. Something she aspired to change but she knew the chances of that were few.

“So what do you think of the town so far? Quite the difference from ole’ Virginia, isn’t it?” Carl inquired.

“Well, it still has a lot of historical buildings,” Brock shifted his drink from one hand to the other. “Olivia and I were going to take a drive down Main Street and check them out sometime later in the week.”

Way to play that in there. Olivia hid another smile behind a sip. Just two tourists, out looking around. Nothing suspicious whatsoever.

“So that’s not much different in the town itself, but yes, the coastal portion of it is a bit different.”

“I can’t get used to the palm trees growing here naturally,” Olivia laughed.

“You get used to it after a while.” Angela lifted her own glass before taking a small sip of it. Of course, she and her husband sounded like they traveled everywhere. Palm trees were nothing special to her anymore. While Olivia enjoyed the travel opportunities her job offered her and Brock, she hoped to never get to the point where traveling for pleasure resulted in a lack of appreciation for something different than home.

“Oh? Do you live here?”

Angela shook her head after she drained her glass. “No, but we like to visit here often. We don’t like the busy beaches of Myrtle Beach or Charleston. Too crowded, you know?”

“That’s exactly why we’re here.” Olivia elbowed Brock in the side. “And it’s a quaint little town.”

“The people here are great. Although maybe a bit too… trusting.” Carl’s mouth creased and he gave a few laughs. “It’s not accurate to think every tourist is as nice as they make themselves out to be.”

“That’s for sure.” Brock agreed as he and Olivia laughed.

“So what do you guys do?” Carl shifted the topic back onto them. Once again, Olivia was glad that they had come up with their story before they were asked these types of questions. “You said you worked together.”

“We’re both in human resources,” Brock added the boredom into his voice. “Exciting, I know.”

“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Angela pointed to Olivia, then Brock, volleying between the two. “Two people who work in the same human resources department got together... How did that go over with HR?”

Laughter circled around the fire again. “Like it or not, some things can’t be helped.” Brock shrugged. “Oh, well.”

An hour or so went by with small talk and laughter with the friendly couple until Carl and Angela both stood up. “We’ll, we’re going to head on out. It was good to see you guys again.” Carl nodded to them. “Congratulations again to the both of you. We’re leaving tomorrow morning, but we wish you all the best in your marriage.”

“Thank you,” Olivia and Brock said at the same time and just like that, they found themselves alone by the fire. They both had about half a drink left and Olivia wanted to savor this time of listening to the crackle of the fire and the ocean waves roaring up onto the shore. She hadn’t wanted to spend all of it with someone else, especially since she wanted to simmer in her thoughts for a while.

“We need a vacation house by the sea.” Brock mused. “Ski lodges are out of the question, so let’s go for something a little more coastal.”

Olivia chuckled at the memory. “There may not be any murders to solve like at that ski lodge, but there are hurricanes, mind you.”

“Ah, forget it, then.” Brock waved it off. He settled back, gazing into her eyes and a look of admiration came into his own. “Anywhere with you is like a vacation.”

“You’re full of crap.” Olivia rolled her eyes and finished her drink. “This is hardly a vacation and you know it.”

“It’s true, you know.” Brock pressed, leaning back and swinging his arm over the couch where she was. “You make the job more exciting.” He was quiet for a few moments before glancing out at the ocean, nothing but a dark shadow in the nighttime air. “I’m glad we took this one on. We needed it.”

“Yeah,” They did, and the scared teenagers of this town did, too. Olivia already felt more like herself. “We did.”

Cape Fremont was no less crazy on a Friday afternoon than the preceding day when they had driven through. Having rested well the night before, Olivia and Brock found it easier to contend with the annoying traffic than they had the previous day.

“GPS says the school is down this way,” Olivia pointed. “We’d almost need a reason to go down there. It’s in a neighborhood.”

“We do have a reason,” Brock shrugged. “We’re tourists and we get lost. We blame the GPS just like everyone else does.”

That sounded good to Olivia. “That being said, do you ever wonder how much is actually GPS’s fault, or just people not wanting to take accountability for their actions? Oversleeping, forgetting to fill up their gas tank, you know, the whole nine?”

“Hey, hey, don’t call me out like that!” Brock held up one hand in mock surrender, the other gripping the steering wheel as he guided the car through Main Street. Cape Fremont was a town where historical met modern, with two and three-story buildings brimming with antebellum architecture to stoplights and fast-food signs to clutter the skyline. Just like every town, some streets looked more run-down than others. A handful of yards brimming with dirty toys, overgrown weeds and ashtrays for every well-kept house and tended yard. The neighborhood that bordered the school was a mix between the two. Not sketchy enough to lock your doors, but not fancy enough to be elite, either. Brock took his time, the school to their left and a neighborhood to their right.

“I can only imagine how thrilled these people are to live right across the street from a school,” Brock muttered as he drove. “Friday nights, especially.”

“Not somewhere I would choose,” Olivia admitted. Her keen eyes searched the school area. The high school sat tucked back away from the road with a giant U-shaped driveway that curved in front of it. A one-way, from the looks of it. On the left side, an under-maintained road led back to where the school buses lined up for all students to board. To the right of the school was another wide open parking lot where the teachers and driving kids could park. The parking lot had only one way in and out of it, a driveway that slanted down a hill that led into the parking lot. It had a middle, right turn and left turn lane.

“That must get pretty hectic during school hours.” Olivia let her gaze drift toward the football field where a group of players were running their drills for practice. It was amazing how one of their own had gone missing and life seemed to bounce back to normal, like nothing had happened.

Once they drove past the school, Brock turned up the road that would take them back to the main drive that cut through the heart of town. “Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary.”

Olivia felt disappointed, but she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t like she was expecting to see a group of teens forming a welcoming committee to greet aliens or some other weird thing. Those things were always done in secret. To her, other than the players on the field, everyone was intent on loading up in the buses or climbing into the cars that would take them home. There was one thing she observed, however, that she shared with Brock. “There’s only one driveway in and out, other than that parking lot, which also has one driveway in and out. The school buses are all back in there. It would be hard for a kidnapping to take place in front of all these people. Especially if their one and only exit was blocked.”

“So it looks more like a runaway, then.” Brock paused at a stoplight in the left-turn lane, blinker ticking.

“I’m not ruling out a kidnapping,” Olivia replied. “A kidnapping could have happened discreetly. The kidnapper could have lured the teens to get them to go with him. It’s too early to reach any conclusions.” She leaned her head against the seat. “Mae said she was happy the day she went missing, more so than usual. I’m thinking that’s a lead I want to follow.”

Brock was quiet for a while. He got a green arrow and turned into one of the two lanes that straddled a turn lane down the center. After he had righted his car, he spoke his thoughts out. “Here’s my question. If we’re thinking suicide—possibly mass suicide—is a factor, then why haven’t we found any bodies?”

It was a good question. One that Olivia had been pondering since she and Brock had gotten down here. “They probably know of some secret place to do it.” She shrugged. “After all, this kind of stuff never takes place in the places you would expect it to. More like random abandoned houses. Or vans parked in the middle of a desert somewhere.”

“Still.” Brock shook his head but kept his eyes on the road. “I would think that after two years, someone’s body would have shown up.”

He was right. Olivia chewed on that thought for the rest of the ride back to the hotel. It was true that these teens disappeared without a trace. School traffic was proving to be mayhem, so she let Brock concentrate on the road while she battled for unspoken answers. When they pulled into the parking lot of their hotel, Olivia settled back, already chasing another plan in her head. “Let’s go hang out by the beach for a while and observe the activity going on around Breakers. We might get something out of that faster than driving by the school.”

“I’m okay with that.”

She and Brock changed into something more beachy, then found themselves by the shoreline. The roll of waves onto the shore and the spray of mist as the waves hit the sand tempted Olivia to relax, but she was more interested in watching the goings on around the beach. She checked her watch, making note of the time. Around 5:10, 5:15, the teens began to show up one by one. However, instead of heading for the cafe, they crowded onto the beach. A small group took up volleyball and began to engage in a competitive game. Others hit the shallows, up to their waists in water. A few even grabbed surfboards. A young blonde caught Olivia’s eye when she took her surfboard and jogged into the waves like she was always meant to be there. There was something familiar about her, and Olivia wondered if she was one of the teens she had spoken to last night.

Sure enough, as the girl began to take wave after wave, the ocean brought her closer to where Olivia could get a clear view of the girl’s face.

“That’s Susanna, one of the teens I talked to yesterday,” Olivia leaned into Brock, nodding to Susanna.

“She’s quite the surfer,” he remarked in return.

He wasn’t lying. They couldn’t help but watch as a large wave began to swell, like a lump moving through a blanket. These waves were nowhere near the size of the waves in Hawaii or places where big-time surfing competitions took place, but some of the larger swells weren’t something that an inexperienced surfer should take on, either. Susanna didn’t fall into that category. She met the wave head-on, or rather board-on, and moved her feet, her body and her board to catch the rise and swell of the wave. Instead of riding it down as it crested, she did a series of bottom turns and rose up and down on the wave several times before making it to more shallow waters and riding her board to the shore.

“She is killing it.” Brock sounded as impressed as Olivia felt. “She looked like a professional surfer out there.”

“She’s only seventeen.” Olivia shook her head in wonder. “And she has better balance than I do.”

Susanna smiled from ear to ear. She looked over and caught Olivia and Brock’s gaze and waved at them. Olivia returned the wave with more heart than Brock’s. Susanna looked back out at the swells again, then started jogging toward where Olivia and Brock were lounging.

“Here she comes,” Olivia said under her breath before the teen arrived beaming down at them as they lounged in their beach chairs. “Hey, Olivia! Is this your husband?”

Husband. The word made Olivia smile as if they were married, already. Soon, she told herself. Very soon. “Yes. This is Brock. Brock, this is Susanna. We met last night while you were getting your butt kicked in a game of pool.”

Brock’s laughter broke through his lips and he shook his head. “Hey, now.” He reached to shake Susanna’s hand, no doubt noting the firm grip with which she shook it. “Brock Thomas, nice to meet you.”

Susanna looked sweetly satisfied as she settled back, clutching the board to her side. “How’s the honeymoon going?”

“Amazing, of course.” Olivia smiled, then nodded to the ocean. “We saw you out there surfing. You’re incredible!”

“Aww.” Susanna gave a blush and lowered her head, a reaction all too humble for the show she had just put on. “Thank you, guys. Surfing is,”—she raised her board, turning it vertical to stick in the sand beside her. The board rose above her head by several inches, but it didn’t make her seem any less small. “Surfing is my passion. Some people tease me, saying that when I get cut, I bleed ocean water rather than blood.”

Brock and Olivia joined her in a small laugh at that. “I see. You really love it, I can tell,” Olivia said.

There is a look that a person gets in their eyes when talking about something they passionately love to do. It lights up their face and deepens the expression in their eyes like nothing on earth can shake that joy. Susanna had that look now.

“Oh, I do.” She glanced out toward the waves as if waiting for the next big surge. “My biggest dream is to be a surf instructor someday. And to compete. I know that it’s not something as glamorous as working for the government or being a lawyer or whatever, but it’s always been my dream.”

Olivia had to hide a smile and force herself not to look at Brock. Little did Susanna know she was talking to someone who worked for the government. And no, it wasn’t all that, although to Olivia, the thrill of solving a case probably equated the thrill of Susanna catching that big wave. “Hey, dreams are dreams, no matter what they look like. Besides, Your dream is unique. The other ones you mentioned are overrated anyway.”

Brock chuckled, something that only Olivia would catch on to.

“You’re right.” Susanna sent a smile in Olivia’s direction again. “There’s nothing like riding the waves and catching the next one. It is the most freeing feeling in the world.” She sounded like a newlywed, talking about her bridegroom from the way she spoke about the waves. This wasn’t her hobby, it was her life, her passion.

She shot a look over her shoulder and quickly turned back to them. “Well, I’ll let you get back to relaxing. I’m gonna go catch some waves.”

“Good to meet you, Susanna,” Brock karate-chopped her a wave.

Olivia gave her a smile. “You go, girl!”

Susanna practically bounced across the sand and into the waves where she laid herself on her surfboard. As Brock and Olivia watched her do another pop-up to catch a smaller wave, Olivia snickered a bit. “She thinks that working for the government is glamorous.”

“Well, it can be.” Brock gave her a side-eye. “When I get to work with you.”

Olivia snorted a laugh. “Laying it on a bit thick, there.”

“It’s true, though!” Brock laughed as he pressed. “My life wasn’t near as exciting until you came along.”

“You know, you’re always saying that, and then I find out about all the stuff you used to get up to,” Olivia muttered through her grin. “Not sure I should take that as a compliment.”

Brock laughed and reached, linking his fingers with her. “You should.”

After an hour or so of people watching, Olivia and Brock gave in to the empty feeling in their stomachs and decided to take their investigation inside to Breakers. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just teens playing volleyball on the beach or hanging out in the ocean. When darkness started to settle in, they gathered their clothes and towels and retreated into the cafe.

“Are you going to find yourself in another game of pool today?” Olivia prodded Brock a bit.

His lip curled in a laugh. “No. I don’t want to appear too obvious, you know.”

“Mh-hm.” Olivia arched an eyebrow. “You just don’t want to get beat by a teenager again.”

“Olivia!” Brock glared at her, teasingly. “I let him win.”

For a Friday night, they were lucky to get a booth settled back in the rear of the restaurant where it was a little quieter. The seating area was like a hall of some sort with booths lining one end and pictures of fishermen and their catches cluttering the walls on the other. Olivia settled across from Brock as a smiling Mila came to their table. Her smile hadn’t dimmed since last night, despite the crazy Friday night din from the bar counter area. “Hey, you guys, welcome back!” She spread the menus before them. “You had so much fun that you decided to give us a second try?”

“This is a great place.” Brock had his usual grin on his face as he looked up at Mila. “The service was pretty awesome, so we decided to give something else on the menu a try.”

“We couldn’t make a decision last night.” Olivia followed up.

“Oh, well, that’s great.” Mila did a little bit of a curtsy-dip. “We’re happy to have you back.”

“This looks like the best place to hang out in town!” Brock nodded his head toward where the teens were piling up in the other room again. “Are you guys the daycare center for teenagers?”

Mila’s laughter wasn’t fake, a sign she enjoyed her job. “No, we just have the best milkshakes and smoothies in town. And it’s right by the ocean. An easy stop for someone who likes to be out on the water as much as these guys do, and it keeps them out of trouble and away from drinking. Speaking of milkshakes and smoothies, can I interest you in our seasonal orange crème milkshake?”

“Oh!” Olivia exchanged a look with Brock. “Two of those, please.”

“Perfect. Any appetizers?”

They declined the appetizers and Mila awarded them another one of her courteous smiles. “I’ll be right back with that drink order.”

As she hurried back to the kitchen, Olivia cast a look around her surroundings. “Great way to play that in, by the way.”

“What, the teenagers all gathering here?” Brock settled back, grinning in teasing arrogance. “Why, thank you. You gotta be good at what you do in this job.”

Olivia barely heard him as she let her gaze linger. There was a young couple behind her, early twenties and dating, maybe. In front of her, a teen sat with his back to her, hood drawn up over his head. Olivia noticed a drink beside him but no food. Was he waiting on an order or something else?

The bell chimed and her gaze lifted to the door. “Hey, check this out. There’s the guy you were playing pool with last night. What was his name?”

“Josh.” Brock snorted a laugh and said under his breath, “‘May your stars align.’ What kind of ridiculous crap is that?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” Olivia half-joked, but she kept her eyes on Josh. The way Josh looked around, here and there, the hood on his hoodie still up gave her a sense that he didn’t want to be noticed. Olivia let her eyes return to Brock. That’s okay. She could look without looking. Josh seemed satisfied that it was safe to proceed and began to walk in their direction. He didn’t go to them, however, as he slipped into the seat directly across from the other teen sitting at the table in front of Olivia. Once he was seated, he flipped his hoodie back, so Olivia could see his face clearly. His face seemed serious, as if this meeting was planning a battle rather than a casual meet-and-greet.

“How convenient,” she murmured softly, darting her eyes up and down every so often, but keeping her expression light to make it look like she and Brock were engaged in joyful conversation.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

“He’s meeting with another teen.” Olivia awarded him one more glance up.

Brock couldn’t turn, but he straightened as if he wanted to turn around and see for himself. Olivia kept her eyes on Josh. He leaned into the other teen, whose face Olivia couldn’t see and his eyes were locked onto his counterparts. Olivia could be wearing bright neon yellow and he probably wouldn’t notice, so she allowed herself a few seconds of observing. Oh, how she wished in that moment for the hearing of a superhero. She also wished she could read lips; whatever Josh was saying seemed important. After a few minutes, Josh reached into his pocket and withdrew a pamphlet. Olivia caught her breath, unable to look away for long. Josh’s bony fingers slid the pamphlet across the table. His expression was serious, as if the pamphlet contained the answers to all of life. The body language of the kid across from him seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want to so openly take the proffered material. Nevertheless, he eventually took it and the pamphlet disappeared from view.

Josh reached out, tapping the teen’s wrist as if to reassure him, then slid out of the booth. He flipped his hood up over his head, shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door.

Nice, inconspicuous move, there, Josh. Could it really be this easy?

“I wonder what that was all about.” Olivia let her attention drop to Brock. “He popped in, gave the kid a pamphlet, then left as soon as he could.”

Brock’s eyes darted to and from each end of the table as if trying to read the answers in the cloud print. “Wish we could get our hands on that pamphlet.” As if seized with an idea, his voice trailed off. Faking a cough, Brock sent a look over his shoulder that looked like he was clearing his throat. Not that he had to be so secretive. The kid’s back was to him and Josh was gone.

Brock slid out of the booth and casually walked over to where the corner of the eating area was. He pretended to examine the picture of the fisherman with one of the large catches, acting like a tourist in a museum. The kid still didn’t look up, so Brock chanced to look down at him as he passed. He studied him for a minute and not once did the kid look up.

No wonder a bunch of teens come up missing around here, with observation skills like that.

Brock only stood for a split second before returning to his place at the table. He slid across from her, leaning in to whisper to her. “I think you were right about that teen cult theory.”

“Why?” Olivia closed the gap between them some as she leaned closer to hear what Brock had to say. Before they could say anything, Mila came around the corner with their two shakes and she grabbed his hand, stroking it with affection. Her eyes told a story of leaning closer to her husband in love and not observing the odd behavior of the local kids.

“Here we go.” Mila set the drinks down before them. “Are you two ready to order?”

“Can we get just a few more minutes?” Olivia asked politely.

“Sure! I know, there’s a lot to choose from. If you have any questions, lemme know!”

“Thank you,” Brock nodded to her. As Mila disappeared from sight again, he resumed his close proximity to Olivia, ignoring his drink completely. “I couldn’t see anything, but what I did see was an astrological-looking moon with the words ‘meteor shower’ across the top.”

Olivia turned her bottom lip inside her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “It doesn’t mean that it’s a part of a cult... but it does indicate some sort of astrological interest there.”

“Something to keep an eye on, at least,” Brock pointed out.

“And the fact that Josh was acting all suspicious. That points to something more.”

“It’s not like we have any leads so far other than knowing where all the kids hang out,” Brock mentioned.

Olivia glanced around the restaurant. Any one of these people could be doing exactly what they were doing. Pretending to be engaged in heavy conversation while listening in to theirs. “Let’s discuss this in our hotel room after we eat. So as not to be overheard.”

“Agreed.” Brock nodded.

By the time they finished their food and paid up, every table in the cafe had filled up with hungry customers and the noise grew so loud that they couldn’t even talk over it. The kid read the pamphlet, finished his drink and left shortly after Olivia and Brock’s food arrived. With little else that counted as suspicious, they paid the bill and walked back to their hotel. The silence that greeted Olivia when Brock closed the door of their hotel room was something akin to an embrace, bringing her comfort and solitude.

She poured a glass of wine for Brock and herself as they sat across from each other in the plush chairs, winding down as they talked.

“So let’s talk about what we’ve got so far.” Olivia swirled her wine in the bottom of her glass, not yet fully dedicated to drinking the whole glass. She wanted to relax, yes, but she wanted her mind to be sharp as she worked this out with Brock. They’d spent the day doing what? She needed at least something to show for it. “We have a school with three driveways, all practically one-ways or horseshoe shaped and no back entrances to the school from what we could see.”

“Right.”

“Indicated that the missing victims who went missing after school were either lured or they left with someone they trusted.”

“Or didn’t disappear from the school parking lot at all.” Brock tilted his glass toward her. “Just because they went missing after school doesn’t mean they went missing from the school.”

This is what Olivia loved so much about working with Brock. Not only did they balance each other out, but each introduced ideas that would, in time, spin together to form a clearer picture. “That’s right.”

“A lot of kids go to the beach or Breakers after school. Cape Fremont seems to be a town that’s still part of the eighties, when kids actually went out and did things.”

“Also that.” Olivia sighed and leaned back in her chair, her eyes searching the ceiling as if the answers were there. “We need to find out more about Ellie. What were her hobbies, did the file say?”

Brock leaned back, grabbing the very edge of the file with his fingertips before sliding it toward him. He held his glass of wine in his hand while flipping through the pages on his lap. “It doesn’t say. But I’m sure you can get that information from Mae and Susanna since you’ve made such friends with them.”

Olivia cracked a smile. “Don’t know how that happened.” She laughed as she took another sip. “Whatever her hobbies were, even if it was just hanging out and watching Josh play pool, she probably would have gone from school to Breakers or the beach. Anything could have happened to her on the commute.”

“Which brings us back to Josh Gallegos.” Brock flipped the file closed and leaned forward, tossing it on the coffee table beside him. He eased back into the chair and hooked one ankle over his knee. “He has all the signs of being into some pretty fishy stuff. He’s handing out pamphlets and acting all suspicious while doing so. His behavior would be something I’d attribute to a drug dealer or something. Why do you need a hood to meet someone in a popular hangout spot just to deliver a pamphlet? And why leave without ordering anything if that was your main purpose... why not do it at the school to save time?”

“So, do you think this Josh kid is behind all these disappearances?” It was a broad question, but sometimes the broad questions were the ones that narrowed down to a possible answer.

“He could be.” Brock mused, brows furrowed as he focused on a spot on the carpet. “Or he could be working with someone else.” His gaze flickered up to Olivia. “A cult leader, perhaps?”

Brock broadened the horizon even further but what he said made sense. Olivia felt her eyebrows raise and she nodded in agreement. It made sense, but she needed more. “Can you elaborate on that a bit?”

“Sure.” He leaned forward, setting his wine glass on the table so he could use both hands to steeple his fingers. “Think about it. This has been going on for two years. The kid would have been around fifteen at the time.”

“That’s still not too young,” Olivia pointed out. “Susanna’s brilliant, meaning she probably matured at a young age. Who’s to say that this Josh guy couldn’t have done the same?”

“That’s true,” Brock nodded. “Sure, the kid may be brilliant and intelligent, but this is a big deal, Olivia. It’s hard for me to believe that Josh is the only one behind this. Something this big, such as twenty-one teens disappearing over two years? I feel like there’s more to it than just a kid getting other kids involved in his little cult.”

Olivia had a thought and blurted it out to Brock. “If that was the case, then people would probably start to suspect him. They’d notice that anyone who hung out with Josh and was interested in what he was saying would eventually turn up missing.”

“Exactly. Which is why I still think there is someone else behind this. Some kind of influencer. Maybe a teacher?” He threw out as a way of suggestion, shrugging one shoulder.

Broad questions. Narrowed fields. “I think we need to go back to the school.” Olivia could feel the excitement building up inside of her, hot on the trail of a new case. “Tomorrow isn’t a school day, so maybe we can take that as an opportunity to take a walk or something around that area. See if there’s any signs of something that’s not right.”

“We will.” Brock didn’t seem to be getting worked up with excitement like she was. He eased himself forward and slipped his hand into hers. “But tomorrow.”

Olivia felt the adrenaline crash from his words as easily as if she had fallen from a five-story building.

“It’s getting late, and we want to be sharp for tomorrow. Let’s call it a night and get some rest.”

Reluctance clawed at her and she refused to loosen her grip on the case. They were just figuring this out, they were onto something, they were—Olivia cut her thoughts off with a sigh. “You’re right.”

“We can’t do anything until tomorrow, anyway. Even the world’s top FBI agents need to sleep sometime.”

There was that mock arrogant grin and the lilt to his eyes that Olivia loved. She laughed. “You’ve been watching too much TV, Brock.”

“It wouldn’t be on TV if it wasn’t true, right?”

They shared a laugh and Brock’s features softened. He gazed into her eyes, letting his own roam over the features of her face. “You know…” His voice came out, softer than velvet, and Olivia couldn’t help but lean into it. He took her hand within his. “I can’t wait to be married. And actually be on our honeymoon, rather than just a pretend one.”

She hadn’t mentioned anything, but she agreed. She squeezed his hand back and smiled. “We will get to do that, soon. This will give us a sample of the best, which is yet to come.”

They shared soft smiles and expressions between them, the love on each of their faces and in their eyes speaking more than a thousand words of poetry could have. Olivia felt any thoughts of the case slipping further and further away as all she could think about now was this man who had made her life so much better simply by being in it.

At exactly 4:50 that morning, Olivia’s eyes had sprung open and remained open for the rest of the morning. She lay beside Brock, feeling the warmth of his body and listening to the rhythm of him breathing in and out, a sound mixed with the roar of the waves outside their patio door. Despite how relaxing she cared to admit all of that was, her head was very much awake again and noisy with thoughts. They had been on the trail of the case last night and even though she had finally given in and gone to bed, her last thought had been about Josh Gallegos and wondering about what Brock had said about a possible influencer for these kids, some figure pulling the strings from the shadows. It was far too early to do any investigating outside, but she could do what she was able to from her hotel room. Her laptop gave her access to the whole world from the comfort of the easy chairs where she and Brock had sat last night.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb Brock, who was out like a light, she slipped from the covers and padded her way to the easy chair, pulling on a robe as she did. Grabbing her laptop, she settled into the chair, propped her elbows up on the arms and opened it. The blue light flooded the hotel room, the only source of light other than the small lamp she turned on. In a few clicks, she had the files of the other missing teens pulled up on her laptop. She started with Ellie, intent to work her way back to the others.

Ellie Cline. Young, pretty, though a shadow of sadness in her amber eyes. Olivia managed to find her social media pages and scrolled through what little pictures she had posted. She Instagrammed a lot of selfies of her and Mae and other friends at Breakers, but nothing obvious that pointed to Josh. A secret relationship, maybe? Her relationship status wasn’t publicly posted for all the world to see, so she gave up on the idea of tracking down any boyfriend she might have in her life. From what she remembered, she didn’t have anyone obvious in her life so that threw the notion out of the window. Besides, if this thing that Josh might be involved with was so secretive, it was no surprise that it wasn’t plastered all over.

Olivia knew all about cults. Cyrus Lockwood and his Cult of Apep had been an up-close and personal taste she would have rather done without. But what about a teen cult? What would motivate teens to join something like that?

She started by typing in the most obvious conclusion: astrology. After all, Josh was handing out pamphlets and phrases that pointed back to it.

“May your stars align,” she murmured to herself. Did that mean: may everything work out for you? People often say the stars aligned when they met their significant other. Or maybe it was some type of code message that the people in the cult would be drawn to? A secret message, perhaps, that would identify members of the cult with a specific code answer?

Curious, Olivia typed in “Astronomy News and Events” along with the dates of the week and her page filled with news articles. One in particular, the top of the page, caught her eye.

“Meteor showers hit Sunday and Monday night. Astronomers say the best viewing will be these locations.”

Olivia clicked on the article and any fatigue she felt fled. Among the list of locations where the viewing would be best, Charleston, South Carolina was listed. Olivia did a quick search on the map and found that Charleston was only about an hour away, depending on traffic. That was close. Too close.

A meteor shower the night Ellie disappeared? Coincidence, or did it mean something?

She didn’t even hear Brock stir in the sheets behind her as she kept her eyes bolted to the screen. She’d been at this for a while and the sun’s rays were just starting to hint at coming up. Brock padded his way over to her, also adorned in his bathrobe. “You’re up early.”

“Researching.” Olivia pulled the lid of her laptop down a bit so they could talk. “Did you know there was a meteor shower here in South Carolina the day Ellie disappeared?”

“I did not know that.” Brock looked bewildered, probably stunned by the news she hit him with first thing in the morning. “You think it’s related?”

“It’s possible.” Olivia fully closed her laptop lid. She heard her computer wind down and cast a look out of the patio door at the turquoise melting into the sky. “What if those missing teens didn’t go missing here in Cape Fremont? What if…” She couldn’t stop now. Her thoughts were racing. “What if these guys are so good at hosting their cults that there is some remote location that hasn’t been searched yet?”

Brock rubbed his eyes. “Do you want some coffee? So that we can talk about this with a clear mind?”

Olivia had to laugh. “It better be the good stuff.”

“I’m on it.” He fiddled with the coffee maker as Olivia continued to ponder the idea. By the time Brock returned with two piping hot cups of coffee from the machine, Olivia had fully prepared her presentation for him. “Thank you.” She took a cup of coffee for herself. She gave Brock time to get in a few sips before jumping back into it. “You asked a good question yesterday.”

“I tend to do that a lot.”

Olivia rolled her eyes playfully and ignored his little remark. “Why have there been no bodies found? Maybe because they were lost to some remote location somewhere that no one would think to look?”

“It makes sense.” Brock sipped his coffee, cringing at the taste of instant hotel caffeine.

“So maybe after we hit the school today, we can investigate some good stargazing spots. Maybe even ask some of the local youth. After all, it’s a weekend. No one would question two newlyweds wanting to go stargazing. There’s no reason to wonder if we’re onto something.”

She tossed a few ideas back and forth while Brock pulled himself from his groggy stage. After a few minutes when the coffee had time to work its magic, he ran a hand through his hair. “We have a lot to do today. What do you say? We go for a short run on the beach while the sun comes up?”

Though her mind was racing with the information she’d uncovered, something as simple as a meteor shower, the idea of running alongside Brock with the ocean as their backdrop sounded better than a Thanksgiving meal, maybe it would help her get a clearer mind if she did. “Let’s do it.”

They finished their coffee and donned their workout clothes, nothing too clingy to hide the weapons that never left their person. The sun was just cresting the horizon by the time they reached the shoreline. The first rays of sunlight burst forth before the orange, glowing sun peered above the horizon. The brilliance of the sunlight turned the ocean into a flaming gold and caught the clouds on fire with awesome beauty. Gold and pink were the colors that painted the eastern sky today, and Olivia kept casting as many glances to the sunlight as she could without losing her place in her run. Running on sand wasn’t like running on pavement, as it felt like the ground was moving beneath her feet, but the saltwater morning was too perfect to slow down now.

She and Brock made it far up the beach before turning back and heading back to where the hotel was. A handful of people had trickled into the chairs, maybe drawn out by the brilliant sunrise, but there was only one person on the water. Olivia slowed her pace, looking to see the person on the surfboard, riding the early morning breakers like a pro.

“Susanna?” She nodded her head in the teen’s direction as Brock glanced over.

“At this time in the morning? That’s unusual for a seventeen-year-old,” he puffed.

They deliberately slowed their pace as Susanna rode one of the waves ashore. Her face lit up brighter than the sunrise as she waved to them. “Olivia, Brock, good morning!”

“Good morning,” Olivia greeted her. “You’re awfully bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning.”

Susanna acted like getting up before sunrise on a Saturday was something as everyday as eating. “Oh, this is the best time to surf! There’s hardly anyone out here to judge me.”

“No one is judging you,” Brock laughed a bit. “I can promise you that.”

“You’re up early and it’s not even a school day.” Olivia had to remind herself that it was Saturday.

Susanna looked back at the waves, slowly returning to their blue-gray appearance after the sun had gone behind the clouds. “I take every moment I can to perfect my craft. If you want something, you go for it, right?” The cheerfulness in her voice held no hostility to the idea of getting up early. “I figure the best way to do that is to come out here every morning and ride the early morning breakers when nobody’s around. I don’t live far.”

“Every morning, wow.” Brock was impressed, and he let it show on his face.

“So you come out here before school even starts.” Olivia glanced around the beach.

Susanna’s laughter mixed with the spray of the ocean. “Believe it or not, it helps me calm down before school. Also helps me focus.”

“You don’t seem like the type to lose focus in school, though,” Olivia pointed out. “Not the party type or the daydreamer.”

“Oh, a daydreamer, absolutely.” Susanna laughed again. “But, nah, I couldn’t care less about any parties. I’d rather hang out with my friends at Breakers or ride the waves.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Brock told her. “Keeps you out of trouble.”

“And it makes my dreams more attainable,” Susanna mentioned.

On that note, it only seemed logical to ask another more personal question aligning with the thought of Susanna’s dreams. “So,” Olivia asked, a note of teasing to her tone. “Do you have a special someone in your life who shares your dreams?”

The gentle blush that spread through Susanna’s cheeks and the small lowering of her chin indicated that Olivia had hit the mark. “Maybe,” she said in that tone that spelled out “yes.”

Before Olivia or Brock could pursue the topic further, a sudden voice, breaking with anger, cut across the morning air from the neighborhood, loud enough to be heard over the waves.

“Susanna!”

Susanna uttered a small gasp and she jumped, snapping her attention toward the neighborhood. Olivia and Brock couldn’t help but follow her attention to where a man stood on the outskirts of the neighborhood with his hands cupped to his face.

Susanna’s behavior changed from a strong, confident girl to a teenager fumbling for her surfboard. Her eyes were huge and her breaths came more rapidly. “Uh… I have to go. Sorry, guys!”

Without even waiting for a goodbye, she took off running, kicking up sand as her strides brought her closer to where the man stood, arms folded over his chest. Susanna grew smaller until she stood before him. Olivia couldn’t make out any words, but she did make out an angry tone echoing across the beach. The angry gestures of his hands and the cowering behavior from Susanna didn’t speak well of their situation.

“Did you see that?” Olivia muttered between her teeth.

Brock’s face creased in anger and he nodded, angry eyes focused on where Susanna turned to go inside the house with who they could only assume was her father. “Rough home life?”

“Sure seems to be that way.” Susanna didn’t even show any signs of it. One would never know it when talking to her. The light in her eyes and the excitement that bubbled from her personality gave no indication that she had a rough home life. “I hope she’s okay.”

The place where Susanna and her father disappeared into the row of houses behind the hotel held their attention for a few moments longer until Olivia and Brock both let it go, knowing there wasn’t much they could do at this point. Still, that didn’t mean Olivia wouldn’t turn it over and over in her head.

“Well.” Brock’s voice sounded both defeated and duty-filled. “We still have a case to work on. You ready to head to the neighborhood where the school is?”

Olivia nodded. She hadn’t set the case aside. Her brief interlude with Susanna had only been a distraction, but even now, she felt ready to do more investigating. “Let’s do it.”

Deciding that it was easier to get close to the school if they looked like they were jogging, Olivia and Brock didn’t change out of their running clothes. They parked a little way up the street in a parking lot of a business that had plenty of spaces and started their run down the sidewalk. The pavement beneath her feet was a lot different than the sand that tried to hold her back and Olivia felt more free as she ran alongside Brock. When the school came into view, they slowed their pace a little, relying on one another to observe the space and see if there was anything amiss.

It was a Saturday morning, so the large parking lot adjacent to the school was empty, except for two cars. Olivia slowed her pace a bit, to a fast walk and Brock fell into line beside her. Her sunglasses hid the direction of her gaze, which slanted down toward the two cars in the parking lot. One of them was a red sports car, Mustang, maybe, parked with its headlamps facing the north. The other one was a white Altima or Sentra, Olivia couldn’t tell from this distance, and parked with its headlights facing the south, as if they had pulled in to talk to each other window to window.

But they weren’t talking from their cars. A woman with light brown hair that hung to her shoulders in wavy curls was held by a taller man with his back to the street. They were too far away to make out any features but it was obvious that they were in love. Women didn’t nestle against someone’s chest like that unless they were close and possibly dating or romantically involved, Olivia noted.

Brock nodded to Olivia and she could tell that he wanted to break into a jog again. As he did, he quickened his pace and she fell into line beside him, acting naturally. But the man did turn to see them. He was still too far away to see anything, but his body stiffened as if he didn’t want to be seen hugging this woman in public. He turned quickly and whispered something to her and she pulled from his grasp. Olivia kept her eyes ahead but she noticed Brock glance toward the parking lot. As they passed by, Olivia heard two car doors slam and two car engines start up. One of them roared to life with the souped-up roar intended to draw attention and tires squealed. The other car started normally and the sound of both engines grew louder. Olivia chanced one look over her shoulder to see the red sports car peel off in the other direction while the white one turned, speeding past them. The woman they had seen occupied the front seat and sunglasses hid her eyes from them. She didn’t even look at them as she passed, but she did go by pretty fast for a parking lot before she zoomed around the corner and out of sight.

Once they were gone, Olivia and Brock slowed to a stop as soon as they could. Their pace had brought them past the school by a few yards. Once they both caught their breath, Brock turned to look after the red sports car. “Hmm. I wonder what’s up with that.”

Other than the sign that said Cape Fremont High School and the laser banner sign underneath it, the school was hidden behind a grove of trees and bushes. Hidden or not, Olivia still looked around, just in case anyone was nearby to listen in on their conversation. All was quiet, except for the wind hissing in the leaves above in the trees. “Yeah. They sure got out of there in a hurry after seeing two random joggers go by. They must really be trying to keep their little love affair a secret.”

“I think it’s more than a love affair.” Brock turned to face her, fully. “I saw him hand her a manila envelope.”

Olivia stopped thinking, even breathing for a moment. “What?”

“That’s right.” He nodded his confirmation. “Right before they took off, he slipped her something and then they both got in their cars and left.”

“That’s odd,” Olivia stated the obvious. “What business did they have in the school parking lot on a Saturday that involved a manila envelope?”

“Whatever it was, they probably thought they were going to be alone. No one’s at school on a Saturday.” Brock looked toward the parking lot again. “No one’s even out on the street. They were probably trying to keep their meeting clandestine.”

They turned, crossing the road and jogging past the school. Once they neared their car again, Olivia broke the silence with her thoughts. “I’m still toying with the idea of a teen cult. But my gut is telling me that everything leads back to the school, somehow.”

“What are you thinking?” Brock asked as a means to draw her out.

“Ellie went missing after school. And you mentioned that you think a teacher might possibly be some sort of influencer for kids like Josh.”

Brock nodded, remembering. “So, we’ve got to find a way to get into that school.” They got to their car but weren’t quite ready to get in, yet. Brock leaned against his door, pushing his hands through his hair. “But what would two newlyweds be doing in a school of all places? No one vacations in a school.”

Olivia looked toward the school as if it could give her the answers. Although the school remained hidden, she could still see that light-up sign. The banner sign announced the climbing temperature, the date and the name of the school’s football team.

She kept watching it and the first thing that scrolled past after the information she already knew sparked an idea. The idea grew within seconds, along with her smile. “Hey, Brock?”

“Hmm?”

She turned her grin upward to meet him and nodded to the sign. “Our Susanna is rocking the waves. I wonder just how good she is at sports, along with her surfing.”

At first, he looked confused until he glanced back up at the last little bit of the announcement that disappeared behind the brick outline. He caught on to her train of thought and the same smile began to form on his face. “Good one, Olivia. Let’s ask her.”

Despite the many fast-food restaurants or other small-town cafes crammed into the rural side of Cape Fremont, Olivia and Brock had decided that Breakers was going to be their go-to place as much as possible. Tonight especially, as they hoped to catch Susanna to talk to her. Starting tomorrow, they decided to try somewhere else to avoid looking obvious about continually returning, but if Mila was suspicious of their constant presence at the small restaurant, she didn’t show it. She made a point to seat them in her area which happened to be the bar counter again. She didn’t have her usual casual pace, though, and it was no wonder. There were people crammed at every table, even combining some tables for bigger parties. The noise of chatter was loud enough that Olivia had to yell over it to talk to Brock. Josh was back, playing pool with some other friends in the pool room, but so far, no Susanna. But being at the bar gave them a chance to observe everyone else, not that there was anything more than what they had already discovered. Mae, Josh, the kid he was playing with, and everyone were occupied with another round of pool and acting annoyingly normal. Nothing to see here.

Mila dropped the menus in front of Olivia and Brock with the drinks they had previously ordered. “I’m really sorry about that wait!” She dug two straws out of her apron pocket.

“Considering how busy you guys are, it wasn’t that bad of a wait.” Brock slid his drink closer to her.

She hinted at a smile, but the dark circles under her eyes indicated she was ready to go home hours ago.

“They’re working you pretty hard tonight,” Brock said, probably noticing the same thing.

“Oh, yeah. Saturdays are always crazy.” Mila gave a playful roll of her eyes. “Tourists, kids, no school or work the next day. And of course, I always get stuck closing on Saturdays!”

Always get stuck closing on Saturdays. Not exactly the smartest thing to confide in two total strangers. For all Mila knew they could be intending to do her harm. Or one of these days, she could confide said information to a serial killer and never work another shift again.

Olivia’s opinion must have shown on her face because Mila looked over and laughed a bit. “Oh, don’t worry. My boyfriend’s here.” The stars returned to her eyes and she nodded her head down the bar where the same blond guy sat. Olivia had noticed him sitting there on their first night here, watching the teens play pool. He was nursing a milkshake today, his back to everyone as he faced the bar. He looked over at Mila and an attractive smile just for her crossed his face. The world fell away for Mila in those few seconds as he nodded to her, half-winking his eyes in acknowledgment before facing forward again. He was very attractive, someone Olivia might have awarded a second glance at one point in her life, but of course, his attractiveness could never rival Brock’s in her eyes.

Mila didn’t look away, but rather gazed at him adoringly, despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. “He always hangs around with me when I close. He makes sure I get to my car safely, no matter how late it is. He looks out for me like a true gentleman. Who says chivalry is dead?” She giggled a bit, grabbed the rag and wiped down the counter as she spoke. “He’s one of the good ones, you know?”

“I see.” Olivia smiled, loving it when someone finally found their person. By the look in Mila’s eyes and the way she described her boyfriend, they seemed to be a one-of-a-kind couple. He had better treat her right.

Mila left to attend to another table somewhere in the back. Olivia turned to lean into Brock and let her smile ignite her eyes. She murmured warmly to him while a deeper love than Mila could brag brimmed in her eyes. “He’s one of the good ones,” she repeated, getting Brock’s attention. “But not as good as you.”

“Oh, enough of the mushy stuff.” Brock huffed a laugh and playfully rolled his eyes.

“No, no, it’s not mushy,” Olivia insisted, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but it’s true!” She loved this, the banter between them but in that moment, she wasn’t feeling playful for once. She was only feeling happy. She let her gaze wander over the familiarity of his face, his eyes, his expression so exclusive to him. “I can’t believe we’re here.” Her thoughts came out. “After everything we’ve been through.”

Here. Not just at Breakers but with each other. Brock gave her a quieter smile and reached for her hand. Beneath the counter, his fingers intertwined with hers, palm pressing to palm and he leaned in. She felt his warm breath in her ear as he whispered, low under the din of the restaurant. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”

Nor could she. They’d been through hell and back more times than she could count. Way back when Olivia’s confidence in herself had dwindled into basically nothing, he had helped her find it again. Find life, find pleasure in life. Find love. They had healed through so much, the loss of friends, family, even. Veronica. Caro. Yara, even Brock’s grandfather in a way. The trials they had faced had only served to bring them together and in moments like this when their lives weren’t endangered, when grief wasn’t knocking at the door of one of their hearts, they were special. Just the two of them. Her heart overwhelmed her with love and she brushed a kiss against his cheek before turning away, lest Mila tell them they were being too romantic and throw them both out. She let the moment die, sweeping the room again for Susanna, but didn’t see her.

“You know,” the tease to Brock’s voice was back and brought her attention back to him. “We’ve been doing mostly work since we got here.”

“That’s kind of what we are getting paid to do.” Olivia joked.

“I know, but we’re here, by the ocean. On our ‘honeymoon’.” He squeezed her hand, again. “You and me, romantic setting.” Brock nodded to the door. “What do you say we take in a nice moonlight walk by the beach before we turn in for the night?”

Wasn’t that what every girl dreamed of? Well, this girl sure did. She could barely keep the eagerness out of her voice. “I’d love that.”

Olivia loved it when the cold salt water rushed against her feet. Her footprints, side-by-side with Brock’s, left little impressions in the sand, cooled by the night air that swept in to take the place of the summer heat. The roar of the waves was both soothing and forceful at the same time, but it calmed Olivia’s heart into peace instantly. The moon bathed the world in milky white as she nestled her hand into Brock’s, walking beside the shoreline. Her mind was as loud as the waves, still thinking about the case. They hadn’t seen Susanna at Breakers tonight, but there was always a chance to catch her tomorrow morning so they could talk to her before Monday. Olivia hoped she would be out at sunrise again, so they could adjust their plans accordingly if her answer wasn’t what they were both looking for.

“You’re thinking about the case again.”

Olivia released a sigh into the salty air. “You know me too well.”

“I know when you’re thinking about the case.” Brock squeezed her hand to hammer his point home. “You should turn it off.”

“I’m trying.” Olivia laughed a bit.

“This is supposed to be romantic.”

He was right. “Sorry, Brock.” She rolled her eyes. “You know me.”

“I do.” Even in the dim moonlight, she could see the reassuring smile he gave her and heard it in his voice. “I love you.”

“Well…” Olivia could think of a thousand comebacks, but she had been feeling romantic since Mila was talking about her boyfriend, so she chose romance over jokes. “I love you, too.”

Brock dropped her hand and looped an arm around her shoulders. A comfortable silence settled between them, filled up by the sound of their feet in the sand and the waves coming up to bathe their bare feet before retreating back into the ocean. Olivia glanced down, delighted at what she found. “Hey, look.”

She stooped and picked up a perfect seashell, the same type that was printed on anything summer-related. Tablecloths, pictures, towels or beach bags. “Look how perfect this is!”

Cape Fremont didn’t have any laws against picking up seashells as far as she knew, so she claimed her prize and examined it in the moonlight.

“Wow, look at that.” Brock leaned closer and Olivia’s senses heightened at his proximity to her. “I wonder if we could find a sand dollar…”

“Let’s see if we can,” Olivia agreed, eagerly.

She and Brock combed each shallow the wave left behind as it retreated. Doing this with him, walking at a comfortable pace while looking for seashells and sand dollars made her feel like a teenager again. Giddy, in love and taking delight in everything.

All too soon, their hotel came into view. While no one hung around the beach in the early morning, the same couldn’t be said for a Saturday night. There was a bonfire somewhere near the shoreline which Olivia and Brock avoided by going all the way around it. People sat in the beach chairs that lined the shore and the stillness was disrupted by the sound of humans talking. Olivia and Brock gave up on finding the sand dollar and started back until someone sitting by the shoreline all by themselves snagged Olivia’s attention. At first, she thought it was nothing until she noticed the smaller build of the person, how they hugged their knees against their chest and stared – just stared – out into the waves. The wind played with her hair and Olivia had to wonder aloud, “Is that Susanna?”

“I don’t know.” Brock crept a little closer. The girl sat well away from the crowd, by herself, and the curvature of her spine and slump of her shoulders spoke of someone with the weight of the world on their shoulders. When they got close enough, the moonlight made out her features. “That’s her.”

They drew a little bit closer, caution stalking their steps. When they were only inches away from her, Olivia spoke softly. “Susanna?”

She jumped, as if not expecting anyone and snapped around to face them. As she did, rage and shock struck Olivia and she could feel Brock’s body heating with the same. Shadows or not, it was impossible to mistake the bruise that snaked around Susanna’s cheekbone, staining the white skin purple and brown.

“Oh…” Her voice caught and she quickly turned her head, as if hoping they wouldn’t see it. “Hi, guys.” The usual joy in her voice had completely fled.

Olivia was all FBI and care, meaning that both legally and personally, she couldn’t turn a blind eye to something like this. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Susanna clawed at her hair, trying to use it to cover the bruise but it didn’t do any good.

Brock looked around the beach, they moved a little bit closer. “It’s okay. We’re not here to add to your hurt.”

Susanna bit her lip and for the first time since meeting her, the teenager wavered to lose her composure. “Thanks.”

Olivia crouched next to her. Compassion leaked into her eyes and she reached a hand toward her. “Susanna?”

Susanna looked toward her, the wind blowing her hair into her face. The bruise peered out from the wisps of her windblown blonde hair and Olivia saw nothing but sadness in her eyes, as if her dreams of surfing had been utterly ripped away.

“We noticed what happened earlier,” Olivia spoke, softly. “I can’t help but ask. Are you in an abusive relationship?”

Susanna stiffened at the word abusive but didn’t look away. Instead, the girl looked utterly defeated. “My mom and dad,” Her voice was stained with sorrow. She turned to face the waves and Olivia had to strain her hearing to hear what Susanna was saying. “They aren’t the happiest people.”

Well, that was more than obvious. Olivia took mental notes as she listened.

“They’re hardly ever around and when they are, they’re always angry.” A little bit of reality began to bleed into her words and she sniffed. Olivia was sure she saw a tear move down her face before she ran her hand under her nose and wiped the tear. “I have had the worst childhood with them. They don’t always hit me, but I’m not going to say they haven’t.”

There was no way she was letting this go. If there were a handful of things that Olivia hated, it was people who hurt kids. Especially one as precious as this one.

“Susanna,” Olivia’s voice was kind, and she hoped that she came across as such. “You can report this to the authorities.”

Susanna shook her head. “No, no.” The same determination that they had come to know and love about her resurfaced in her voice and on her face. “No need. I’m seventeen, I’m getting out of here soon, and I really don’t want to have that rap on my record.”

Olivia opened her mouth to protest. No one was going to look at Susanna like that “poor, abused girl” if that’s what she was afraid of. Not Susanna. No, they’d be inspired by her. A girl who overcame her rough childhood and achieved her dreams. She hated the thought of Susanna staying in such a situation simply because of what someone else would think. But even as the words were ready to come, Brock steadied her by putting a hand on her shoulder. Olivia shot him a look but Susanna went on and she turned to hear her better.

“I’d rather just get out of here as soon as I can.” The corners of her mouth pulled back in a smile. “I’m going to Hawaii or maybe Florida to pursue my surfing dreams. I’d rather just do that. I have someone who can help me get there, you see.” The usual excitement wasn’t there, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice. “I’ll be eighteen soon. After that, I can figure out my life.”

Soon wasn’t soon enough. A lot could happen between now and then. Hawaii was a long way away, almost a foreign country to a girl like her. But what could they do? If Susanna didn’t want to talk? Besides, she probably thought it would make her situation worse. None of that mattered to Olivia as she tried again.

“Aren’t you worried something may happen to you before you get there? What if you aren’t able to surf because you’re hospitalized or something?” She hated being so blunt, but the truth was what might save her life.

Susanna breathed a laugh and looked back at Olivia and Brock. “Don’t worry about me.” There was way too much confident assurance in her voice. “It’s not that bad, it doesn’t happen every day. I’ll be fine.” She looked back out on the waters again. “I guess that’s why I love riding the waves so much. It gives me control and it makes me feel free. It’s the one place where all this stuff can’t get to me and all that matters is not falling off your surfboard.”

She was ready to move on from the subject whether Olivia was or not. Brock seemed more willing to roll with the change of conversation. “It’s your escape. And a thrilling one at that. You’re going to do great with Hawaii. Do you have a plan on how to succeed there?”

“I have someone to help me.” Susanna smiled. “There’s a ton of surfing competitions down there, especially now. It’s kind of like Hollywood for actors, only it’s surfing, not acting. And when you have someone to get you in,” She smiled. “You go for it, right?”

“Exactly.” Brock smiled. “On that note, do you do any other sports in school?”

Good in, Brock. Olivia didn’t want to stop trying to talk Susanna into getting help, but it looked like she’d have to. She waited to hear her reply, eagerly.

“I play volleyball.” She was starting to loosen up from her sorrow as a smile ignited her face.

“Oh, you do?” Brock’s eyebrows rose in eagerness. “When’s your next game?”

“Monday night.”

Olivia exchanged a look with Brock. Perfect. “Well,” Olivia looked back at Susanna and gave a nonchalant shrug. “You never know. Maybe we’ll stop by and see you.”

Susanna gasped, all of the grief from earlier evaporating. “Really?”

It occurred to Olivia at that moment that she had probably never had anyone in the crowd that she knew. Her parents weren’t around, she said, not around to cheer on their daughter when she won a victory in a volleyball game. She swallowed her rage and nodded. “Of course! After all, if we won’t be around to watch your first surf competition, the least we can do is watch you rock the volleyball court.”

Tears in Susanna’s eyes caught the moonlight. “That would mean the world to me.”

“See you Monday night,” Brock mentioned, turning to go and Olivia began to follow him.

“See you Monday night!” The renewed hope in Susanna’s voice gave Olivia the strength to walk away, rather than stand and plead her case.

“No parent should abuse their child and get away with it,” she bit out as soon as she and Brock were well out of Susanna’s earshot. “I’m going to look into her family dynamic and see what I can do.”

“Olivia.” The solemnity in Brock’s voice bristled her. Of course he was logical and case-focused, but what about Susanna? Olivia could never live with herself if she just walked away. “Remember we’re not here to save Susanna Webster. We’re here to find Ellie Cline and the rest of the teens who have gone missing from this town. We should focus on one thing at a time.”

She had a host of things she wanted to say to him. Her mouth dropped open, ready to tear into him with words, but a movement caught her eye. Out of Breakers, she saw a young teen emerge, and upon closer inspection, she easily picked out the star and moon tattoo on Josh’s neck. All her protests and retorts melted away, even her thoughts of Susanna as she studied him. Josh, once again, looked this way and that, then started to hurry toward the back of the restaurant. What business would he have back there if not to do something suspicious?

Olivia’s hand shot out, steadying Brock even though she was the one who had been unhinged a moment ago. “Did you see that?”

“What?” Brock’s head snapped in the direction of where Olivia was looking.

“It’s that Josh kid again.”

Brock noticed him moments before he disappeared behind the restaurant. There was no need to say anything. Brock and Olivia exchanged a glance before silently falling in line behind Josh’s trail.

Relying on the ocean waves to cover the inevitable crunch of sand beneath their feet, Olivia and Brock crept as quietly as they could. Skilled at keeping in the shadows, they crept along the side of the Breakers building and peered around the corner just in time to see Josh head toward a fenced-in area covered with green tarp. Probably where they kept the trash and a perfect place to talk.

Brock nodded to the fence as he and Olivia silently moved closer to it. Hushed voices met their ears as Josh disappeared inside. The smell of garbage wafted in the air, and Olivia did her best to ignore it, wondering if Josh had noticed it as well. If he didn’t, did that mean he came here all the time?

She found a small hole and peered through it for a brief second before carefully avoiding it. The last thing she needed was for Josh to see movement through it and abort whatever he had come here to do. She and Brock moved to the back of the fenced-in area so that if Josh left, they had a chance to move away before he could make his way to the back. They wouldn’t be caught, so they listened with rapt attention. Judging by the voice that answered Josh back, Josh’s meeting was with a younger teen.

“Are you sure about this?”

Josh’s confident voice also had a smooth charm to it. The kind of charm that all girls should stay away from and all men should take caution against. “Of course I am, man. I’ve been doing this for a long time. It doesn’t hurt anybody.”

What? Olivia and Brock shared a look between them, the earlier hint at an argument fully gone. This was important; it was what they had come down here for! But what had he been doing for a long time? Whatever it was, it may not be hurting him, but it was sure as heck hurting the other kids involved.

The teen sighed. His foot scraped in the sand and he was probably looking down at it, as his voice muffled. “I don’t know, man. I’ve never done anything like this before. It seems a little far-fetched.”

Josh’s voice moved closer, slightly muffled, maybe due to him putting an arm up to clap the kid on the shoulder. “Look, man. Do you want to feel all-powerful? The best, most wonderful feeling in the world? Then meet me behind the school, Monday night, 8:00.”

Another look was shared between Olivia and Brock. They were going to be there! This was almost too perfect.

“You won’t regret it. I’m going to take you places you’ve never been before. It’ll be out of this world.”

Oh, he was definitely into some kind of cult. And he was dragging others with him. Olivia tightened a fist at her side, stilling her breathing to hear better.

“All right, man,” came the kid’s mumbled reply. This poor kid had no idea what he was getting into. What would his acquiescence mean for him in the long run?

“That’s what I’m talking about, man.” Olivia heard a cuffing sound as if Josh had clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You’re going to love it. Meet me at the school, and we’ll go from there.”

Brock nodded toward the hotel, taking this as a cue to leave. He and Olivia tiptoed away from the scene until they were far enough away to fall into a regular pace. Olivia’s mind was racing. “‘Out of this world?’” she repeated. “Now, that can’t be a coincidence, right?”

“I’ll say. It’s a commonly used phrase, but something to think twice about coming from a kid who also uses terms like ‘may your stars align.’ Especially since the kid he was talking with sounded uncomfortable with whatever he was asking him to do.” Brock glanced up at the sky, studying the stars a bit before going on. “Are there any celestial occurrences on Monday night?”

Olivia racked her brain, thinking back on what she had learned in her research. “I think there’s another meteor shower. I can’t be sure, but I think the one from when Ellie came up missing is still going on. I’ll have to confirm it, though.”

“If we can prove that there’s some kind of cult going on,” Brock’s voice took on a serious tone. “Then we’re on our way to finding out what happened to those teens.”

This couldn’t have happened at a more perfect time. Olivia couldn’t wait until the weekend was over so she could get inside that school. “We’re going to be at the school on Monday night. We’ll have to be out of Susanna’s game by 8:00. We can’t miss this.” Something big was going down. It surprised her that it looked like they were closer to solving the case in less than a week, especially considering it had been going on for two years and the locals had gotten nowhere.

“So, what do we do in the meantime?” Brock knew as well as she did that they still had a job to do, so they couldn’t exactly sit around until Monday night. An idea came to her, along with a smile. “Why don’t we see if we can find somewhere around here that might be a remote location?”

Brock pondered this for a moment. “It’s certainly worth a shot.”

“So, how do we go about finding this so-called remote location?” Brock lounged on the bed, propping himself up by his wrist.

Olivia plopped down onto her place at the edge of the bed, running a comb through her damp hair. “I think the best place to start isn’t on land.” A laugh nearly burst from her at the confused frown that spread across his face. “Think about it. For two years, the local police have been searching, the community has been looking out for the teens, and the K9 units have been bringing their search dogs within the radius. Probably every single location near Cape Fremont has been searched by K9s, police, civilians, and everyone. After two years, if there were a bunch of teens buried anywhere near this location, something would have turned up by now. I’m thinking of some secret location out on the ocean, like a cove or something that no one knows about.” She changed her tone, blinking at him flirtatiously, and sweetened her voice. “Make-out spots, maybe?”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Cute.”

“If they’re killed in some remote location like a cove, their bodies could wind up in the ocean.”

Brock adjusted his position to sit up, swinging his legs over the bed. “But wouldn’t they wash up on shore eventually?”

“Maybe. Unless there are sharks or other sea creatures who inhabit the waters and deal with them before they ever do.” She shrugged. “It’s worth a try. Or maybe we’ll stumble across something else while we’re out there.”

Brock pondered what she said, still not completely convinced, but he agreed that they needed to take this next step. She couldn’t resist an opportunity to tease him again, so she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “What? Are you going to say ‘no’ to going to a make-out spot with me?”

Brock eyed her out of the side of his face and grinned. “Not exactly. I rather like the idea, actually.”

.

She and Brock slept soundly through the night, not awakened by thoughts about the case as early as she had been the night before. After grabbing some breakfast the next morning, they made their way down to the fisherman’s wharf, as close to Cape Fremont as they could get. The marina could be seen from the east side of the beach, and it wasn’t that far to walk. For a Sunday, it wasn’t as busy, probably due to the fact that it was still too early for most people to be out and about.

Brock slipped his hand into Olivia’s, intertwining his fingers with her, and used his wrist to angle her closer to him. “Remember,” he murmured in her ear in a way that made her warm, “happy newlyweds.”

“I’m happy with you, no matter what.” She turned her face toward him, parting with a smile. Undercover or not, it wasn’t hard to pretend to be in love with Brock. She didn’t have to pretend at all.

“Let’s find a young guy.” Brock scanned the rows of boats lined up at the dock. “I’m thinking they’d know where the best ‘make-out’ spots are.”

“I’ll follow your lead on this one.” Olivia scanned the rows of boats lining up along the dock. She could hardly wait to get into one of them and set sail across the waves, heading for some remote location that might bring them closer to discovering more about the disappearances. The shot was one in a million, but it was worth a try. This area wasn’t very well known for cliffs or even small coves, but Brock was right; if there was a cult for teens, then they had to be somewhere. It didn’t make sense for nobody to be recovered unless it was somewhere that no one ever went.

“That one over there,” Brock nodded to a younger guy, early twenties, maybe, who offered boat tours and day trips. Olivia kept her reservations to herself. Could he be trusted? “Hey, there,” Brock called to him.

The guy looked up, banishing a few of Olivia’s reservations with a professional smile. Younger kid, but he seemed bright. “What can I do for you?”

Brock paused at the dock, looking over his boat with a quirky grin. “My wife and I, we’re on our honeymoon and maybe looking for a spot that no one knows about.” He and the kid exchanged a sort of knowing glance between them. “Do you happen to know of anything like that?”

The kid’s smile only grew. He glanced between Olivia and Brock and nodded his head backward to the boat. “Hop in.”

He himself jumped into the boat and into the driver’s seat. Brock cast Olivia a look, stopping just short of saying the word See? She playfully rolled her eyes and stepped into the boat. It felt strange to go from steady ground to a floor that moved up and down underneath her feet. It gave her legs a heavy feeling at first, but she found her footing within a few steps. She settled beside Brock as the boat took off, engine roaring across the waters. While Brock made idle chatter with the kid, Olivia let her gaze wander out over the gray waters as the boat teetered up and down. Her stomach clenched with each time the boat’s belly slapped against the waves, only to raise up a little bit again. She never got seasick, so the butterflies in her stomach were probably her eagerness to get to where they were going. Observation marked each landmark in her mind’s eye, so she could remember where this place was if they ever needed to go back to it.

The wharf began to disappear from view, soon becoming a blurred line in the distance. Clouds began to gather overhead, and she tried not to think of the rain that might, quite literally, rain on their picnic. They’d have to do some investigating quickly before it did.

The boat sailed along the shoreline, past condos, and other beaches both public and private. Given the direction of the dawning sun, the kid was taking them north. After what felt like an hour had passed, she felt herself stir with impatience. Was this kid just taking them on a nice tour of the ocean, eager for a few extra pennies because of it? Wariness betrayed her feelings when she turned to murmur her suspicions to Brock until the kid banked right. The boat puffed and sputtered into the waves and the distant shore disappeared behind a small chunk of land, replete with trees swaying in the wind. A tiny isthmus, of sorts. Olivia glanced at her watch. They’d been sailing for about an hour at this point, so they had to be closer to Charleston. Still not too far for these teens to go and it made more sense with the distance between them and Cape Fremont. The boat pulled into a small little cutout and the engine sputtered to a stop.

“Best place on the waters.”

Neither Charleston nor Cape Fremont had any cliffs to speak of, but seclusion was freely an option. The beach only stretched a few feet before leading into a grassy area replete with trees and shade. The trees grew so closely together that they did well to hide whoever might be in the forest. The thought unnerved Olivia at first. What if there was someone in this hideout who knew about it, whom they might run into?

A newlywed couple, exploring. An easy story to pull out of her pocket if they met with any hostiles.

“I’ve come here a time or two.” The kid looked smug as if what he said was true and something to brag about. “There’s really nowhere more private than this.”

“Thanks, man.” Brock slipped a payment into the kid’s hand and gave him a wink to keep it quiet. “How do we get ahold of you when we’re ready to leave?”

He shrugged. “Take as long as you need. I’ll just be out here, fishing.” He grabbed a fishing pole from beside his boat, looking happy with the payment and with the extra time to fish. He was in no hurry, and neither were Olivia or Brock. Brock knew what he was doing when it came to picking the right people for the task.

“Thanks again.” Brock grinned at Olivia extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

Olivia took his hand and he helped her out of the boat and onto the sandy shore. Following him up the path and into the grass, she was glad when the boat roared to life. The sound became more distant as the kid sailed a little bit away from the shore to give them a little privacy. When the roar of the engine became little more than a hum, the quietude surrounded her. Waves gently lapped onto the shore, whispering rather than roaring and the trees swished with the late summer breeze that brought just enough warmth to make anyone comfortable.

“This place is beautiful.” Olivia had to pause for a moment and glance around. No wonder it was a popular spot to hide away. She pressed further into the forested area with Brock, her eyes scanning the ground for anything that could be of use. Her hand slipped into the purse she carried where she hid a few Ziploc bags, some tweezers and gloves, and an on-the-go field kit to collect any evidence they might find. She handed a pair of gloves to Brock and slipped some on herself. “This looks promising.”

Deeper into the secluded area would be their best bet for any evidence to be uncovered. After fighting their way through some underbrush and battling with sweat breaking out from the heat of the day, they broke into a clearing in the trees. The space was large enough for a small party to be had and it probably hosted quite a few, judging by the leftover trash that littered the ground.

“I wonder if this is someone’s private beach,” Brock stooped down, picking up a beer bottle in gloved hands. “And if so, how do they feel about all this trash being strewn all over?”

“It’s not the tides,” Olivia squinted, looking back at the trail where they’d come. “They wouldn’t come up this high. So this is another hangout spot.”

“Probably not just for teenagers, though.” Brock bagged the beer bottle. “All of this is a shot in the dark, but you never know. Evidence.”

“The least we could do is find out who’s littering,” Olivia said with a snicker as she continued to search the area. It wasn’t just beer bottles she found. Evidence of one-night stands or Friday night hookups lay scattered here and there, blending in with the flora and fauna. She shook her head. “People are disgusting.”

Brock crouched on the ground, peeling back some vines away from the bottom of a bush. “Aha.”

His voice trailed off with his thought. “Lookie what we have here.”

“What?” Olivia turned, stepping closer as Brock held up a few injection needles. “Drugs.”

“Remember the weird crap that Cyrus Lockwood was into? Way back.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting this could be connected to that?”

Brock carefully bagged the hazmat into a separate bag, scribbling his notes on the surface. “I just mean cults in general. People can get their hands on all kinds of stuff that will stop your heart or your breathing.”

“For sure.” Olivia crouched low to the surface where he was looking. “But how do we prove it?”

“We could find some bodies.” Brock shrugged, nonchalantly. “Or other telltale signs. Ellie Cline was more recent and if she’s one of the teens involved with this, we might find some freshly upturned dirt where she might be buried.”

Olivia nodded and started a spiral search of the area. Brock worked a grid, but she preferred to start at the bush and work her way outward. But other than the usual signs of late-night parties, she didn’t find anything else alarming. Articles of clothing, random old socks. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the images she’d downloaded, but of course, they were all medium shots of the teens. No one would have thought to take a picture of their feet for any comparison she might have made with the socks. But if she could find something out here that matched the articles of clothing in the last seen pictures of the teens, then they’d be onto something. She combed the area with her eyes, but rather than cute dresses or sweaters like most of them wore, all she found clothing-wise were some shorts here a tank top there. Brock only found a few more needles scattered throughout, but there were other signs of drug paraphernalia.

“Let’s take a walk,” Olivia suggested. She felt a little bit of frustration mounting that they hadn’t found anything directly leading to the case. Then again, what was she expecting to find? This was the first spot, and if it existed, there were probably others.

She tossed a glance up at the sky, framed by the tops of the trees that circled the clearing. “Perfect for meteor shower gazing.”

“Yeah,” Brock cast a single look around before moving to step into line beside her. “And tons of other things.”

No kidding. The litter that scattered throughout the area demonstrated that, perfectly.

As she and Brock walked to the beach, she let her thoughts trod along with her. Motive was one word that kept coming back to her mind again and again. She humored the idea that Josh was a small part behind the disappearances of his classmates. What would a kid like Josh gain by luring his peers to their deaths for some cult? Unless he was fully sold out in what he believed, convinced he was achieving a higher version of himself by getting as many as he could to follow him, there wasn’t really much else he could gain.

So maybe someone else was behind it, convincing kids to give up their money or some other thing. Or maybe it was some kind of fetish; a guy who gets off on this sort of sick, twisted thing. Maybe it was a sexual trap and the suicide portion of it was an ingenious way to make sure he’d never get ratted out. Still. What happened to the bodies?

The beach came into view. They had wandered far enough to where their tour guide’s boat was nowhere to be found, but as a blur in the distance was a cargo ship. It sailed along the horizon, and Olivia studied it for a moment as she looked out on the water. The beach was private enough, sure, but was it enough to dump twenty-one teenagers’ bodies and risk them getting washed up on shore? She focused on the cargo ship. In the distance, she could barely make out an image of a Gothic-looking, lacy black flower painted on the side.

How strange, to see a flower on the side of a cargo ship. Maybe it was an international flower supplier or something, but dang, that was a lot of flowers. The flower logo and its cargo ship were only one of many which passed this way. So if the bodies of the teenagers weren’t washed up on a beach somewhere, the chances of the sea carrying them out to be seen by passing ships were also present. A killer who was smart enough to convince teens to follow him to this remote location for a cult would surely think of that. So where did they go?

She felt Brock’s arms sweep around her shoulders and draw her back against him. For a moment, even the thoughts of the case faded and everything else that wasn’t important floated away with the current, out to sea. She turned in his arms and slid her own over his neck, drawing him close. “This isn’t part of the case.”

“No, it isn’t.” Brock leaned closer. His voice had dulled to a low murmur, resonant from his chest. Olivia leaned into the vibrations that rumbled from his chest voice and closed her eyes, feeling her forehead pressed against his. “But why waste a perfectly good make-out spot?”

Her eyes flickered open. Everything tried to pull her away in that moment, battling for her attention. They could find more on the grounds they could use as evidence, search in vain for any piece of clothing, run some tests... but all of it faded in the fold of his arms and the hint of his voice. A smile creased her lips, one she shared only with him. A smile that wordlessly spoke of deep contentment rooted in the love she shared with Brock. She loved this. The way they had drawn closer over the years that led up until this moment. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Alone on the small little beach, probably someone’s private property, but who cared, Brock pressed his lips against hers. Olivia couldn’t help but let go of everything she wanted to discover about the case and melt into him with all of her being, returning his kiss with delight. She felt one of his hands remove itself from her upper back and his fingers dug through her hair, pressing her face closer to his. She, in turn, pulled him closer, deepening their kiss to the sound of the ocean waters gently lapping against the shoreline. Though her heart was broken for each of the twenty-one teens they were searching for, for each of the families still lacking closure, these moments that she stole behind the scenes with Brock replaced that emptiness in her heart with undeniable happiness.

After Sunday’s fruitless search that did nothing more than show them a good hiding spot, Olivia and Brock staked everything on Monday night’s volleyball game and the meetup with Josh and another teen afterward. Neither Susanna nor any of the teens they had come to know at Breakers had any idea about the operation that Olivia and Brock had set up behind the scenes. Olivia had gotten in touch with the local sheriff’s office Sunday night and had spoken with Billy Carter, the sheriff himself. He had been the one to speak with Hugh Calvin about the missing teens, so Olivia confided everything that she and Brock had discovered in him. That night, unmarked cop cars and Olivia and Brock’s own vehicle would surround the school around eight pm where they could, hopefully, put some of this to bed.

But that was later. For the moment, Brock and Olivia showed up early to the volleyball game and wandered down the halls of the high school. They were finally inside! The inside of the school was the typical locker-lined hallways, leading to classrooms that bordered the hall on the other side of the school. Teens and students scurried everywhere, followed by some adults who were presumably teachers or their parents. Olivia kept to herself along the wall where the classrooms were with Brock right behind her. They kept their eyes peeled for anyone else they knew, but so far, they had been the only two fish out of water.

“We’re here for Susanna,” Olivia reminded herself. She couldn’t help but feel the sadness that shadowed her again at the thought that this was probably the only time someone other than classmates was in the crowd to cheer Susanna on. That girl deserved much more than the life she led at home. That much was obvious.

“So how do we know what we’re looking for?” Brock’s question floated over her shoulder. It had been forever since either of them had been in a school building or had any reason to be, so she could only imagine how he probably felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. She felt the same, but their job was to blend in, and they have been doing a good job of it so far. Everyone was too busy getting to the gym to notice them or wonder who they were.

“We’ll know when we find it.”

She hugged the wall, Brock right behind her and glanced over her shoulder. A smile cracked her lips. “I do believe I’m lost.”

“Really?” He cocked his head, understanding her implication. He mirrored her grin and faked bewildered loss on his face. “Huh. Me too.”

“Well,” Olivia shrugged one shoulder. “Guess we better look around for the gym, huh? Don’t want to ask anyone where it’s at, that’s too obvious that we’re lost.”

“Agreed.” He grinned, going along with her little plan. She returned her attention to the environment, doubtful that she’d see anything obviously out of place. Everything looked normal to her. But instead of her eyes picking out something out of place, Brock’s ears made the actual discovery.

It was when she was passing one of the darkened classrooms. Two voices drifted from inside and Olivia started to slip past it. She could pick out a man and a woman’s voice talking but other than that, she didn’t find anything of interest until Brock’s hand on her upper arm pulled her back.

“Wait, honey. This way.”

He must have caught on to something and Olivia went along with it, acting like they were in search of the gym. Once they stood with their backs to the wall behind the door frame, Brock murmured low enough for her to hear.

“Listen.”

Fully out of view of the darkened doorway, Olivia strained her ears to hear what had caught Brock’s attention. The sea of students went by and Olivia tried to pick out the words, but soon discovered that she couldn’t.

“De verzending zal dit weekend klaar zijn.”

Eloquent, but guttural at the same time. German, maybe? Olivia puckered her lower lip.

The woman in the room replied, choosing each of her words carefully. She didn’t sound like a native but had the hesitation of someone speaking a second language. “Goed. Ik ben blij dat ik kon helpen.”

What were they saying?

“Dankzij jou kon ik er twee aanschaffen in plaats van slechts één.”

A harsh, guttural sound at the back of his throat. The language had to be German or somewhere in that region. The woman hummed in response to whatever the man said and her voice seemed to move closer to him. “Ik ben hier om u te helpen met wat dan ook wat u nodig heeft.”

Another sensual laugh from the man’s nose came in response to the warm, almost seductive tones the woman used. Olivia didn’t speak a word of what they were saying, but she couldn’t miss the suggestiveness in the words wat dan ook. She made a note to look them up to find out what language that might be, but instantly forgot them as the school doors swung open, letting in a larger crowd of students.

Olivia and Brock dropped their act at once and snapped to attention, ready to walk back with the crowd to the gym. Their voices got lost amid the chatter of the kids, so Olivia slowed her pace to align beside Brock. “That wasn’t English.”

“Yeah. I think that was Dutch?” Hesitation clouded his tone.

Dutch? Olivia couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder as if to see two Dutch people standing there, looking their way. “Really?”

“Yeah. I recognized a few of the words.” He slowed his pace, talking quietly. No one was moving by them at a slow enough pace to overhear him. “I think I heard the Dutch word for the number ‘two’ and something about a shipment?”

“Who on Earth speaks Dutch in a tiny beach town?” demanded Olivia. She pressed her lips together. “I wonder what that’s all about.”

“Well, something tells me that wasn’t lesson planning.” Brock nodded to the water fountain. He would be right. The romantic undertones were the furthest thing from lesson planning. “Should we stick around and find out?”

Olivia nodded. She stooped down to get a drink from the water fountain, strategically placed by the bathrooms. If they were outside the restrooms, anyone passing by would think they were just waiting for someone. While Olivia sipped her water, Brock kept scanning the faces until a woman emerged from the door where they had been listening. She had short, brown hair that hung to her shoulders in wavy curls. Olivia couldn’t be sure, but she looked like the same woman they had seen in the parking lot the day they had gone jogging by the school.

When the woman cast a look up the hallway, Olivia and Brock expertly averted their gazes. Brock’s lips moved as if he were speaking and Olivia nodded, going along with his pantomiming. The woman looked up the other way again, then motioned inside the darkened room. A man emerged, wearing a leather jacket and started for the exit on the other side of the room. Why was she so intent on sneaking him out? Looking both ways before telling him it was all right to move out? Olivia tried to memorize anything that could help her identify him such as the way he walked, his hair color, but could find nothing of interest as he disappeared into the sea of students. The woman placed her hand against the door frame and watched him go, longingly, as if she was sorry to see him leave. When he left through the exit, she turned and retreated into the classroom.

“Suspicious, much?” Olivia muttered.

“I’ll say. Way to be obvious without being obvious.” Brock checked his watch. “We should find our seats. We promised Susanna we’d be there and I don’t think we’ll get anything else. Everything else seems normal.”

Normal, yes. Loud and noisy, full of kids. Olivia merged into the highway of teenagers, Brock right behind her. “Do you think she’s a teacher?”

“Why else would she be so comfortable in that classroom? Anyone else who doesn’t work here might be uncomfortable since it’s not their space.”

“So a teacher is speaking Dutch— well, at least we think it’s Dutch—and I doubt a school this size offers Dutch classes.” Olivia nodded to Brock. Just because he recognized a few words didn’t set it in stone. “Sneaking a guy out of her classroom, and I don’t know if you caught how very seductive she sounded with him.”

“Yeah. Infatuated.” Brock nodded. The doors to the gym came into view. The conversation about the mysterious teacher and her encounter with the man that Olivia still couldn’t see would have to wait. She cast him a side-eye and grinned. “I didn’t know you spoke a little Dutch.”

Brock held the door for her. “Well, I’m just full of surprises.”

Olivia laughed as she stepped inside the gymnasium.

The volleyball court was filled with teenagers and parents. Susanna was easy to pick out in the crowd with her blonde hair done up in a high ponytail that swung back and forth whenever she jumped forward to get the ball. Olivia kept one eye on her and one eye on her watch at all times. Brock pulled out his phone and sent a text message a little after the game started. “Backup is here. We’ve got the back of the school covered.”

“Good.” Olivia cheered when Susanna hit the ball over the net, scoring a point for her team. “That-a girl!” When the cheers died down, she sat back down on the bleacher. On the other side of the court in a gathering of adults, the teacher with wavy brown hair stood. “So she is a teacher here.” Olivia pointed her out to Brock with a nod of her head. “I wonder who she is. And I wonder if the guy she was with was a teacher, too.”

“I don’t know.” Brock shook his head. “But we can find out.”

A shrill whistle split the air. Olivia had forgotten how loud these high school games could be, especially in an enclosed place such as the gym. Susanna cast a look up in the bleachers and caught sight of Olivia and Brock. They gave a small wave and her face lit up as if it could get any brighter.

With that, she plunged into the game. Shoes squeaking on the shimmering floor, she lunged for the ball, curled fingers palming together, and hit the ball so hard that the sound echoed through the room. The ball sailed over the net, only to be returned by the other team. They kept a good volley going for quite some time before the opposing team lost another point.

“She’s doing great,” Olivia remarked.

“It’s almost like she’s doing her best for us. Or because of us.” Brock’s eyes were on the game as he slipped an arm around Olivia. “Two strangers she doesn’t even know.”

Sadness clouded the moment, but Olivia didn’t let it show on her face. “Isn’t that sad? That she has found comfort in two complete strangers rather than her own family?”

Brock nodded. “My heart goes out to her.”

“Mine, too.”

By the time the game drew to a close, Olivia’s back ached from sitting on the bleachers. She had a reason to stand at the end when Susanna’s final hit over the net won the last game of the night for her team. Cheers erupted into thundering noise and her friends flooded onto the floor. The winning team embraced their friends. Olivia took the moment to cast a look at her watch. “It’s fifteen-till. If we go down there, we’ll miss the showdown. Too many crowds.”

“We’ll just say we had to get going and congratulate her on the beach tomorrow. She’s always there.” Brock stood to give her a wave but Susanna was too busy basking in the glory that her friends were bestowing upon her to notice.

Outside, in the quiet of the parking lot, Olivia waited for Brock to unlock the door. The lights lit up and she cracked it open. “She rocked it out there.”

“She did.” Brock agreed. They shut themselves in the car and Brock reached for the ignition. “That girl is going to go places.”

The excitement of the game faded as Brock drove his car around the back of the school. “There’s our backup.” He nodded to another car, parked inconspicuously in the bus parking.

He killed the engine, letting the car go dark, and turned off his headlights. He leaned back in his seat and watched the exit from the school. Anticipation grew between them, the excitement of a stake-out weighing the air down.

“There was a lot of stuff happening here tonight,” Olivia mused. “A teacher meeting with a man in her office. I’d give anything to know what they were talking about.”

“It could be nothing,” Brock replied. “Maybe some kind of hookup. It shouldn’t, but it happens.”

“It could be anything.” Olivia agreed. She wasn’t even sure if it was something worth holding onto or just something to let go. Her attention faded from the Dutch-speaking couple at 7:59, when a teenager came into view, hoodie up and over his head and walking cautiously, like he shouldn’t be here. As the clock switched over to 8:00 pm, at the exact moment, Josh came around the corner of the building. At least, Olivia assumed it was Josh. The hoodie over his head concealed his face from view, but there weren’t any other logical options considering that he had arranged this meeting.

“There they are,” Olivia whispered.

Brock leaned into the steering wheel, eyes intent on what was about to go down. Relying on the tinted windows to conceal him from view, he pressed his lips together as he watched. Josh looked around one more time, but his gaze passed right over them. Olivia wished she could have bugged the area or set out some sort of recording device, but what they saw would have to be enough. Josh turned to fully face the kid, leaning into him and murmuring something before withdrawing an item from his pocket. He held a small Ziploc in his hands and even from here, they could make out a white, powdery substance.

“That’s it!” Olivia bounced like a spring from the car at the same time Brock flew from the front seat. The action startled Josh and he dropped the packet as he jerked around to face the two people running towards him.

“FBI, freeze!” Olivia yelled out. “Hands in the air!”

Josh abandoned his friend, sprinting with athletic speed toward the front of the school. Brock melted onto his trail, taking off after him. “I’ve got Josh!”

The other kid was too startled to move. Olivia could see two scared eyes peeking out from underneath the hood. He had gotten caught; he knew he was in trouble and it showed.

Josh was fast, but Brock was faster, covering the ground between them in a few strides and reached out, grabbing onto Josh’s shoulders. The two men went down, a sprawl of arms and legs and a few grunts.

Olivia reached the other kid, whose trembling hands were in the air. “I didn’t do anything! I’m innocent!”

The shouts of their backup came swiftly, but Olivia wasn’t letting this go. She reached down, grasping the pouch that Josh had dropped as he sprinted away. Brock hauled him to his feet, leading him back toward where Olivia stood with the other kid. Josh’s eyes were as round as saucers as he looked toward Brock with recognition. “Man, I didn’t know you were FBI!”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Brock mumbled. He glanced down and bent, scooping the Ziploc up with his hands. He held it up in Josh’s plain view. “What is this?”

If possible, Josh’s eyes got even wider as he struggled to get free from Brock. His lips pressed into a thin line on his face and he didn’t answer a word.

“Come on, man, I know this isn’t baking powder!” Brock’s voice was gruff and maybe held a slight hint of annoyance as he waited for Josh to answer.

Josh answered all right. Stuttering, he looked back up at Brock, desperate for him to believe his story. “That’s...that’s not mine.”

Brock snorted a laugh, his lip coming up in a sneer. “Yeah, we haven’t heard that one before. Is this how you get kids to join your little cult? Lure them in with drugs?”

Olivia waited for the other kid, who was cooperating nicely, probably too afraid to do anything. Brock was good at going from one topic to another, backing suspects into a corner and sometimes she enjoyed watching him work. Josh’s face melted into confusion and his mouth hung open for a good few seconds. “What cult? I don’t know anything about any cult, man.”

Irritation hung on Brock’s expression. “‘May the stars align for you?’ Astrology pamphlets, come on, man.”

“O-Of course I’m into astrology, but I’m not into any cult!” Josh protested. His voice took on a higher pitch, no longer the calm, collected, Zen Josh they had been watching from a distance. That was either a sign that all of that calm was fake, or maybe he really didn’t know about a cult.

Olivia grabbed the packet of drugs from Brock and held it up for Josh to see. “Who’s your supplier?”

“I don’t have one!” Anger pulsed through his voice. “I found it!”

“Yeah, right. I find bags of this stuff lying around all the time. Are you going to help yourself out and tell us?” Olivia held it a bit higher. “Who is your supplier?”

Josh pressed his lips together. He was a smart kid, probably remembering the first Miranda right to remain silent. He chose that moment to stop speaking.

Police lights soon danced around the back wall of the school, gathering a sea of students and teachers. Gasps, whispers and excitement circulated through the crowd but Olivia and Brock kept to themselves by the sheriff’s truck parked a little further away from the scene. The only information that Olivia had been able to gather was Josh’s friend’s name, Jake. Other than that, there was no telling where the drugs came from or who Josh’s supplier could be. The kid had clammed up, a rebellious and belligerent look on his face as he was hauled away.

Billy Carter, the sheriff, strode over to where they were. He was a man with sagging skin around his eyes and a receding hairline, evidence that he had been on the job for a while and seen too much. He walked with a slightly dejected gait, as if taking down a drug dealer under twenty years old was enough to drain the life out of him. Olivia understood that entirely. It had been enough to discourage her, too.

“Well, thank you guys for helping us take down a drug dealer.” The sheriff’s voice sounded resigned, as if it was the least they could have done. “Any progress is progress, I like to say.”

Olivia and Brock gave a few series of nods. “I wish we could have done more,” Brock mentioned. “We’d like to come down to the station sometime tomorrow to talk to him. We think that he might be involved somehow, but we can’t give out details.”

“Josh Gallegos’s dad is an attorney. He’ll probably be the one representing him.” Billie informed them.

So that’s why the kid knew to not say a word. The moment he realized what they were pinning on him, he went silent. Probably made his first phone call to his attorney dad, too. Olivia felt herself inwardly groan at having to contend with an attorney father with the attitude that his kid could do no wrong. The guy was caught dealing drugs. How was that going to go down with him? Whatever the case, it wasn’t the drugs that held her attention. It was the fact that Josh denied being in a cult. These things were never easy. Suspects never came outright and admitted fault, not even young ones.

“But you’re welcome to come down.” Carter gave them directions to the sheriff’s office. “Anything to help out with the investigation.”

“Thanks.” Olivia nodded to him.

When the sheriff drove away, she walked with Brock to where their car was parked. Unsure if any of the students had seen their faces or not, they kept their backs to the gathering crowd and relied on the tinted windows to conceal their identity until they drove away. “Well, so much for being undercover,” Olivia grumbled. “Anyone who was smart enough to see a man and a woman leaving the scene after helping law enforcement may have seen us in the school earlier.” They would put two and two together and the nice little newlywed cover would be shattered.

“You don’t know that.” Brock shook his head, steering the car out of the one-way drive that led to the school. “And even if anyone picked up on it, it would probably be Susanna, who is more like our contact at this point, anyway. A smart girl like her would keep the information to herself, especially if she knows it will help us keep her friends safe.”

“Still.” Olivia leaned her head against the headrest, fists clenched in angry disappointment. “Drugs. We did all of that tailing, eavesdropping, and stake outs only to bust a teen drug dealer. Not that that’s a bad thing, but that leaves us empty-handed with the missing teens investigation! If he’s not a part of any cult, we’re right back to where we started!”

“We don’t know that he isn’t part of it. We will learn more tomorrow when we talk to him.” Brock reached with his free hand, intertwining his fingers with Olivia’s. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”

Olivia tried to relax and forced her lips to part in a small smile. “Thanks.” She was hit with the realization that it was the first time in a while that she had gotten worked up about a case. Frustration or not, it felt good to be in a case again that brought out these emotions.

Brock held her hand for a few moments before returning to the steering wheel. “Personally, I don’t know what to think about this kid.” The heaviness in his voice was enough to stop the car in its tracks. “But I don’t think he’s our guy.”

Olivia’s gut told her that Brock was right. Josh may be dealing drugs, which might be involved with a cult somehow, but there was just something about the kid. Still, she wasn’t dismissing anything. “Okay, so what if he’s not? We still haven’t left empty-handed. What about this teacher speaking Dutch and having secret conversations with some guy? Doesn’t that seem to fall into your theory, a bit? That a teacher is some kind of influencer in these kids?”

“It doesn’t prove anything, other than she speaks Dutch.” Brock shook his head. “Probably has a Dutch-speaking boyfriend that she was spending time with before the game.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave another weary sigh. “We’re going to have to get some answers from Josh.”

“We’ll talk to him.” Olivia already couldn’t wait to get down to the sheriff’s department and get some nitty-gritty details from Josh. Any little bit helped at this point.

The sheriff’s office was no bigger than Breakers Cafe, but it seemed to do the trick. A small town like Cape Fremont didn’t need anything terribly large, anyway. Olivia strolled beside Brock while they were escorted back to a room where Josh sat, waiting for them. The belligerence from last night hadn’t left his face and when they entered, he looked like he wanted to cut them both in half. That was fine. Olivia had seen a thing or two, she wasn’t scared of some kid with a threatening glare. She almost found it humorous, if not for the situation.

The man sitting with Josh rose to his feet. His face was drawn with a disappointed and rather miffed appearance. “Jace Gallegos, I’m Josh’s attorney.”

“I’m Special Agent Olivia Knight. This is Special Agent Brock Tanner.” Olivia nodded to Brock before seating herself across the table.

“Whatever you have to ask,” Jace also settled across from them and cast a look at Josh. “Go for it.”

Well, he seemed open to this. This was already going better than Olivia had anticipated. It seemed that Josh’s father had no idea he was into drugs until last night, given the angry look that creased his eyes and turned the corners of his lips down.

“Thank you.” Olivia spoke calmly, looking into Josh’s eyes. All veils and covers were gone, and she hoped they could speak freely and get to the bottom of this, sooner rather than later. “We’re just here to ask you a few questions.”

“I’m not a criminal.” Josh barely muttered the words past his clenched lips and folded his arms over his chest. One of his knees quaked up and down as if they were keeping him from more important matters.

Brock took over, raising his voice a bit. “Really? Then why were you caught trying to deal drugs to one of your classmates? That’s a serious offense, man.”

“It’s not what you think.” Josh rolled his eyes, huffing a sigh at the same time. Another angry look darted toward him from his father’s eyes, but he kept going. “I found the drugs, okay? I found them, I tried them, I thought they were cool.”

“Where did you find them?” Olivia tried to draw him out.

Josh shrugged. “They were laying in some tire tracks, outside a building somewhere in town. Can’t remember where. I took them that night.”

“So you saw some drugs lying around and thought it was a good idea to take them, having no idea what they were or what effect they’d have on you.” Brock nodded. “Smart.”

“I knew what they were! I’m not stupid!” Josh exploded.

“Oh. So you’ve used drugs before?”

He slammed his back against the seat, huffing another sigh. “No. But every kid knows what heroin looks like. And hey, if you see free drugs laying around and not take them, what kind of idiot would do that?”

“One who doesn’t want to screw his life up.” Brock pinned him with a serious tone. “So what happened next, after you found the drugs? Tell us everything.”

“Everything?” Josh raised an eyebrow. Olivia braced herself, waiting for the step-by-step breakdown of everything he had done since finding the drugs. As belligerent as he was, she wouldn’t be surprised if he detailed how he put his left foot in front of his right, walked to wherever he was going, turned the knob, opened the door, stepped through with his left foot and closed the door behind him. She’d been in interrogation sessions like that before. They hadn’t gone well.

Josh surprised her by cooperating. “I went to the beach. It took me a while to get there, I walked, but I found a nice spot.”

“When was this? When did you find the drugs?” Brock clarified.

“Monday night. There was a meteor shower that night. And if you haven’t noticed…” He leaned his head to one side, tracing the moon and star tattoo down with his finger. “I’m into that stuff. I thought it would make it extra cool if I took a bump during the meteor shower. And let me tell you, I was right.”

He linked his fingers behind his head, spreading his arms out as if he were getting comfortable right here in the interrogation room. His eyes roamed the ceiling and a contented smile broke out on his face. “I found me a nice patch of grass, near where the neighborhood is but secluded enough to hide me. Took a hit. Laid back. And when the meteor shower hit, man, it was like going to a whole new world. There’s nothing like feeling like you’re floating when the stars are falling. They fell in brilliant colors and it was the best thing in the world.”

“Cut the crap,” Brock barked. “We aren’t here to hear about what a wonderful experience your drug-induced high was. If anything, it was highly dangerous. Let’s get to the part where you decided it would be a good idea to share them with your friends, not knowing what it would do to them, I’ll add.”

Olivia threw a glance between father and son, seeing nothing but displeasure on the father’s face. Clearly, he was upset enough not to counsel Josh to keep silent. He, himself, probably wanted to hear it all. The bewilderment on his face struck Olivia as interesting, though. As if he didn’t know his son was capable of doing drugs.

Josh sighed as if Brock had burst his bubble and released his hands from the back of his head. He brought them down to the table again and steeled both of them with a stare. “I shared them with Jake. Well, tried to. That’s what we were doing the night you guys showed up.” He threw a look between Olivia and Brock, bitterness clogging his voice. The words you guys were spat like a cuss word. “We were going to take them the night of the next meteor shower since we’re both into astrology. After I tried the drugs Monday night, and it was tripping, I wanted to do it again with my friend Jake.”

“Was anyone with you when you tried the drugs on Monday night?” Olivia almost knew the answer but she had to ask. Josh had avoided that, entirely.

“No. I was by myself.”

Olivia took a pen and paper out and set the pen against the paper. “Where exactly on the beach did you take them?”

“There’s a patch of wheatgrass or something that’s down the beach, a little bit from the neighborhood. It’s secluded, but not terribly far away. On the right side of Breakers if you’re facing the ocean.”

His father finally broke. His head shook in disbelief as he ripped around to face his son. “We moved here six months ago and already you’re getting into trouble.”

Six months? Olivia straightened, her eyes coming off of the page and onto Jace. “You moved here six months ago?”

“That’s right.” Jace sighed and looked forward again.

The teens had been disappearing for a lot longer than that. It only confirmed what Olivia had been feeling the night before. Josh may or may not be involved, but he wasn’t their guy. But maybe their guy, whoever he or she was, had seen Josh’s astrology fascination and had found that he could be of some use for his purposes. She leaned forward, conveying the seriousness of her question through low tones. “Josh. I need to ask you a serious question.”

He looked bored.

“I’m serious. We’ll see what we can do for you, but I need to know. Are any of your teachers aware of your drug problem?”

Josh slammed his hands on the table, causing his dad to do another double-take. “Son!”

So much for feng shui. “I don’t have a drug problem.” The words ripped from Josh’s mouth.

Brock and Olivia kept still, mutually agreeing that it was better to let Josh back himself up with his puny attempt at a defense. He let his angry words simmer for a few moments before sitting back. “And, no. I go to school, I do my time, I go to Breakers or I go home. I don’t talk to any of my teachers.”

“I can confirm,” Jace added, rather helpfully. “His grades speak to that.”

Not only did it shoot their theory down, but it gave them nothing to work with. They had been counting on getting some sort of lead from Josh, but he had given them nothing but dead ends. It was little more than frustrating, which Olivia worked to control. She leaned forward again. “Where did you really get the drugs?”

“I told you.” Josh practically spit. “I found them.”

“Where did you find them? Where were you going that night? You don’t just forget what places you visited.” Brock didn’t move, but his voice tone left no room for argument. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re in trouble. And it would serve in your best interest to help yourself out by helping us out.”

His argument didn’t faze Josh at all. He crossed his arms over his chest again, closing off posture, communication and every hope of a lead. “I don’t know. They were outside some building somewhere.”

Olivia and Brock exchanged one more glance. They could go back to the drugs. Run them for fingerprints. Tire tracks, even. If Josh had found them in some vehicle tracks, maybe the tire imprint would have been left on the plastic. “You said they were in some tire tracks, though?”

“That’s what I said,” Josh answered.

He knew. He knew exactly where he’d found them, he was just giving them garbage. Probably his way of getting back at them. How many other teens were going to get hurt by this? It was no small amount of heroin they’d found, which meant there was another case wide open. Cape Fremont had a drug dealer and their only witness wasn’t talking. “Are you talking dirt road, the sand, the beach, maybe?”

“I don’t know. I just remember tire tracks. Are you done?”

Olivia bristled. He was the one headed to jail and he had the audacity to ask if they were done? She opened her mouth, ready to retort an answer but Brock answered for her, his voice tone clipped with annoyance.

“Yeah. We’re done.”

“He’s lying.”

Olivia slipped into the driver’s seat, giving Brock a break from navigating the streets and crossed her seat belt over her shoulder. “No one just finds drugs lying around outside of a building. And no one forgets where they found them, either.”

“He could have.” Brock shrugged. “He could have gotten so high that all he remembers is what he told us.”

So now Brock was defending him. Olivia’s voice rose a notch. “He couldn’t even tell us which building!”

Brock sighed, running another hand through his hair. “Well, that didn’t help.”

Olivia started the car but glared straight ahead. “What now? Test the drugs, see if the dealer was stupid enough to leave his tire tracks on it? Find some ridiculous tangential connection”

“We could do that,” Brock said with a resigned sigh. “How about some breakfast while we figure out where to go from here?”

“Somehow I knew you were going to say that.”

They had left early enough that food had been the smallest priority. Now, it seemed like their only option. Food in their stomachs and thoughts in their mind. Where else would they go but Breakers, their only working lead so far? Even though the teens were in school, they could talk to Mila and maybe score some information only she would know about them. At this time in the morning, it shouldn’t be too terribly busy. “Let’s go. I’m starving, anyway.”

Mila’s smile and pep in her step were enough to calm Olivia down to the point of not feeling like she wanted to tear into their next suspect, whoever that individual might be. She and Brock managed a bright smile, acting like nothing was wrong and they were still one happy couple halfway through their honeymoon. At this rate, they were going to have to come up with an excuse to stay longer. Not that they’d ever put a time limit on when they were going home. For all anyone knew, it was a month-long honeymoon in a small beach town. Made sense, right?

“Good morning! How is my favorite couple today?”

“Oh, it’s just fantastic.” Olivia covered her true feelings.

Mila set the menus before them. “It’s good to see y’all again. You’re getting to be regulars.”

“I can’t tell you how convenient it is to have great food and service within walking distance from our hotel.” Olivia laughed a bit. “We tried some other place last night and it just wasn’t the same.”

“Yeah, it severely lacked the small-town feel and excellent service,” Brock added with a twist of humor to his voice.

“Aw, well, we love to hear that.” Mila paused for a moment, having no one to demand her attention. “I’m glad I got to see you. I don’t usually work the morning shift, but one of the waitresses called in sick this morning. I get to work a double, yay.” Nervous laughter bubbled from her. “I’m going to miss seeing you around when you go back home.”

“We’ll miss coming here,” Olivia answered, honestly. Case or not, Breakers was something that she wouldn’t mind having back home in Belle Grove. The staff was friendly, the food wasn’t bad and it was convenient. Although, it would take a lot more than that to tear Brock away from his favorite diner.

As always, though, her head was still reeling with the details of the case. As if making casual conversation, she tilted her head, taking advantage of the slow moment and asked, “So how long have you been working here?”

“Three years.” Mila didn’t seem all that affected. “I didn’t really go to college after high school. Couldn’t decide what I wanted to do with my life, you know? Not that being a waitress is anything glamorous or anything, but I love it. I get to meet wonderful people like you and that’s how I met my boyfriend.”

Ah, her boyfriend. Something that made her happy enough that even mentioning him made her beam like a princess. “So how long have you known each other?” Olivia was always down for a good story on how a perfect couple met. Anything would be better than the HR story she and Brock had concocted for their undercover excursion.

A long sigh preceded Mila’s answer. She looked around again before lowering her voice. “I don’t really know if he counts as my boyfriend.” She leaned on the counter a bit, keeping her eyes open for any customers who might require her immediate attention. “He’s just... he’s amazing, you know?” Her voice took on a swoon from a romance that many had thought to be just in the storybooks. “He is a millionaire, and he helps out so many people! I’ve never known a true philanthropist like him. He really is the most wonderful man.”

“He sounds like it. What’s his name?” Olivia smiled up at Mila.

Mila drew in a long breath through her nose. “Alasdair Crosby.” She pronounced his name as if it were sacred, or some sweet savor on her lips. “He is such a kind man. He does…” Her voice trailed off. “So much for the community. He’s rich, but you’d never know it. He owns a shipping company or something.”

The more she talked about him, the more Olivia began to wonder if Mila was in love or infatuated. She was so young, so innocent. Something seemed off.

“Wanna see something?” Excitement overcrowded the dreamy look in her eyes.

Olivia shrugged. Why not? “Sure!”

Mila lifted her elbow, taking her sleeve and drawing it up to her shoulder. She craned her torso around to show the initials AC encircled within a flower. “I just got this yesterday. I want to keep him close to me, always.”

Olivia didn’t want to mention how tattoos were permanent. Should a breakup occur, it would be a pain to remove or cover something like that. But of course, she wasn’t one to shatter someone’s romantic dreams. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

She and Brock quickly finished their breakfast when it came. Not the best pancakes Olivia had ever had, but then again, she never enjoyed it when the cook overcooked the bottom. Still, they left a good tip and retreated back into the haven of their hotel to hash some details out. Olivia plopped down in the same easy chair she had upon first arriving and Brock sat down across from her with more caution. “Well. What now?”

“I’m going to look something up. Something that’s been bugging me.” Olivia hadn’t been seated for a full thirty seconds before launching herself out of her chair to get her laptop. Spreading it open on her lap, she typed a few keywords in. “Jace Gallegos said they’d only been here for six months. I need to cross-reference that to confirm.”

“You’re thinking that the teens going missing have been happening longer than their presence here in town?” Brock crossed an ankle over his knee again.

“Exactly.” Olivia scrolled through a few pages, finding Jace Gallegos’s attorney website within seconds. A big announcement on the cover page read “We’ve moved!” confirming his story. “Yes. It says that Jace moved to South Carolina from Michigan exactly when he said. This announcement was from six months ago.”

Brock brought a hand to his chin, rubbing over an imaginary beard in thought. “Okay, so Josh can’t be the guy who has caused all of these teens to go missing over the last couple years. So unless Ellie Cline is a different case than the others and Josh did do something to her that night, what are we looking at?”

“Your theory might be correct and Josh was lying when he said he never talked to any teachers. Maybe a teacher really is the one behind this and Josh was his way of helping teens into the cult. That would line up with the theory the Sheriff had.”

“You know what I am beginning to think?” Brock knew her answer would be yes, so he pressed on without waiting for her to reply. “If it is connected to a teacher at the school, my money’s on that teacher and her clandestine boyfriend being involved. The one we saw last night.”

He had poked a hole in her theory when she mentioned it last night. What had changed his mind? Olivia tilted her head. “But like you said. Hearing her speak Dutch only proves that she speaks Dutch. That’s not a crime.”

“I know. Something’s just off about it.” Brock shook his head in thought.

She huffed a sigh and sat back, closing her laptop as she did. Her gaze wandered over the ocean waves tumbling one on top of another onto the shore. They had clues. But none of them linked together. Josh had found drugs. That was his story, and he stuck to it. But where did he find them? They could send it in for testing, but until those results came back, what else did they have to work with? Olivia ran through Josh’s statement in her head. He didn’t remember where he found the drugs. “Some building” was his only unhelpful reply. But he did remember where he took them.

Might as well check that out.

“Let’s take a walk,” she announced. “See if we can clear our heads. Maybe we can head to that spot where Josh said he took the heroin and see if there’s any evidence of foul play that would’ve been left.”

Brock was on his feet in an instant, just as eager to get to the bottom of this as she was. “I was just thinking that same thing.”

Olivia put her laptop away, grabbed her shoes and they were out the door within seconds.

Under the light of the afternoon sun, Olivia and Brock explored the beach until they found what looked like the place where Josh had told them he’d taken the drugs. Brush surrounded a small patch of seclusion; anyone who crouched behind the grass would be well concealed. Olivia gave it a once-over, noting that there was nothing out of the ordinary other than a few straws or Coke cans. No obvious signs of drugs were evident, but the kid was probably smart enough to pick up after himself after indulging in things that were illegal. It seemed crazy to Olivia that he would choose a location that was so close to Breakers or the neighborhood that bordered the beach, thus taking a chance at getting caught. But no one had seen him, so maybe the hiding place wasn’t so bad after all. The grass and the darkness probably did a good job of hiding him.

Straightening, Olivia set her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Just some trash, and other things, but no evidence of drugs or any foul play.”

“Footprints are irrelevant.” Brock sounded resigned as he glanced around. “Everyone walks past this area to get to the beach during the day.”

“I really wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find. A note that said, ‘I did some drugs here?’” Olivia let a smile crease her face, using humor to disguise her frustration.

Brock matched her laughter and shrugged. “We’re allowed to hope, right?”

“Right.” Olivia rolled her eyes, playfully. Curiosity pricked at her, causing her to wonder what she might find along the beach. She turned, following the trail of thought along the shoreline where they had taken their Saturday morning run. Walking might help gather her thoughts a bit, some time away from the direct hit of the case could bring something hidden to her attention. Brock seemed to read her mind and fell into line beside her, scanning the shoreline. This time, though, they weren’t looking for seashells. Not that they were looking for anything evidence related either. Olivia’s sarcastic humor only amplified the fact that there would be no obvious signs. Whatever was causing those teens to go missing was remaining well hidden, probably under their very nose, which infuriated her.

“Do you think there’s any way we can talk to Mae without being obvious?” Brock kicked at some of the sand as he walked.

Olivia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Why Mae, specifically?”

“She might know if Ellie Cline was into some kind of astrology or a cult or something. She was her best friend, maybe they confided stuff like that in each other. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with astrology. It could have been any number of things. You know how kids are these days. Whatever is popular is what they’re into, no matter how dark or unreal it is.”

“It’s possible.” Olivia shrugged. “But maybe we’re looking in the wrong direction. We don’t want to be too narrow-minded about this. There might be a cult, but there could also just be a case of kidnapping. Some stalker who knows too much about the teens, who knows how to grab them at appropriate times. I mean, think about it.” She dug her toe in a cool spot of sand before moving on again. “We were able to figure out by the first night where all the teens in town go to hang out. Surely a serial stalker or kidnapper could do the same thing. Maybe the best thing to do is to trace the path from the school to the beach and see if anything looks out of line.”

“We definitely need to think along those lines,” Brock agreed. “We also need to get some teens talking Now, Susanna isn’t the party type, so we need to find an in with the other kids who might be, particularly Mae. She’s going to be a good connection, as she was Ellie Cline’s best friend. She would know what kind of stuff she’s into. Maybe she’s into some of it, herself.”

“Today’s the perfect day to talk about it.” Olivia glanced at her watch, noting that the kids should be flooding the beach any minute, now. “After all, we can just say that we heard about Josh Gallegos getting arrested last night, especially since you kind of knew him from playing pool with him that one time. Someone like Mae would gladly spill any details about him without thinking twice. That’s what she did for me the first night we met. We can maybe catch a game of pool tonight, or…”

“Olivia! Brock!”

They did a half-turn, following the direction of the eagerly excited voice of a young girl. Susanna stormed the beach, running toward them with athletic grace, a paper held high in her hand and waving in the strong beach breeze. “Wait up, you guys!”

“She sounds happy.” Brock turned at the same time Olivia did and started to close the gap between them and Susanna, only with far less eagerness. “That makes one of us.”

Olivia grinned a bit and slapped his arm. “Whatcha got, there, Susanna?”

Susanna caught up with her, panting and out of breath but her eyes were alive with an excitement Olivia hadn’t seen in them before. And for Susanna, that was saying something. She spoke so rapidly, that it was hard to keep up with her. “Y’all are not going to believe this! I got accepted! I got accepted!” She thrust the paper in her hand toward them but didn’t give them a chance to grab it before yanking it back as exciting news tumbled from her mouth. “There is a surfing competition at the end of this month in Hawaii and I got accepted!”

“What?” A smile hung Brock’s mouth open, excitement dawning in his tone.

Olivia reached out, setting a hand on Susanna’s shoulder. “That’s wonderful!” She didn’t want to rain on Susanna’s parade, but... the end of the month? Wasn’t that a little fast? Did she have to train for that? Surfing every day was one thing, training for a competition was quite another. Was it a realistic idea to be ready for a surfing competition in a month? Not to mention the logistics of getting there.

Brock aligned with her thoughts as he often did. Though he smiled, his voice was serious as he pinned her with a question. “How are you going to get down there?”

“Oh, I’ve got it all figured out.”

Of course she did.

“My savings, plus some help from a friend, it’s going to be amazing!” She couldn’t even complete a sentence. Nor could she stand still as she danced from one foot to the other, swaying in her excitement. Olivia tried to catch the name of the surfing competition, but Susanna couldn’t hold it long enough for her to see anything but a brightly colored flier. “I just wanted to tell y’all. I know you’ll probably be leaving town soon, but remember the name Susanna Webster because someday, I’m going to be a famous surfer! I can’t believe this is actually happening!”

“We’re very happy for you.” Olivia smiled at her.

“Nothing good ever happens to me.” Susanna’s excitement dimmed and she glanced down at the flier, reading over the words again and shaking her head. “My life has been full of bad luck so this... this is amazing! I finally got a break! I’m having trouble believing that something this good is just happening, handed to me on a golden platter!” She jerked her head up, her smile returning. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ve got to go tell Mila!”

In a flash, she was gone, kicking up sand with her bare feet as she shot like a bullet toward Breakers. Brock laughed, shaking his head as he watched her go. Olivia’s thoughts overpowered the ocean waves in regard to noise as she spoke them aloud to Brock. “I can’t believe it, either.” She creased an eyebrow and tilted her head to look at him. “Doesn’t it seem too good to be true?”

“It does.” Brock didn’t miss a beat.

Olivia watched Susanna disappear into Breakers. “Did you happen to catch the name of the surfing competition?”

“I didn’t. She kept flapping the paper around like crazy so it was hard for me to read it. I’ll ask her about it when we see her later. The surfing competition’s not until the end of the month, she said. We’ve got some time to do a background check on it.”

Olivia loved how he agreed to take a side quest in this case to check out a surfing competition. Something about this was off. It was, in reality, too good to be true. Then again, for all she knew, Susanna had applied for it, sent in a video of her surfing and was asked to come down. But didn’t she need parental approval? She was a minor, after all. “Still. We need to make sure we ask her about it before we leave. That is,” She sighed, looking along the beach which at the moment was as empty as she was about this whole entire business. “Unless we need to stay a little bit longer.”

“So, what do we do now?”

The afternoon sky leaked into the evening. Olivia and Brock wandered up the shore, then turned and came back again, not caring where they ended up. About an hour had passed, giving them time to hash out every detail they could. In the end, they both decided it was better to try and get some more information from the local teens. Their steps brought them closer to Breakers, but at a slower pace. Olivia wasn’t ready to stop overthinking the case, yet. She mentally prepared herself to give Mae a list of questions while keeping her eye out for anyone else the questions or observations might bring to their attention. Even if the direct questions they asked following the night of Josh’s arrest would cue them in to the fact that they might be investigating some things, Olivia didn’t care at this point. It was getting to the point that they had to make the next move, as their current approach wasn’t getting them near as many answers.

“When we get back to the hotel, let’s look up the staff at Cape Fremont High,” she told Brock, swinging her arms idly by her side. She wished she was internally as relaxed as she appeared on the outside. “Then, maybe do a background check on every single one of them.”

“It might behoove us to talk to some teachers there, too,” Brock pointed out. “Especially if we can’t gather any information from the local teens that we can use. Even if it means blowing our cover.”

Olivia shook her head. “Then any would-be kidnappers, cult leaders or otherwise would know to keep their mouths shut and lay low until we leave. Maybe even give it a rest for a year or two, only to come back in full force after they think it’s all blown over.”

“We need to find a way to get to those teachers,” Brock replied. “There’s got to be a way.”

Olivia halted her steps, straining her ears to hear better. Breakers came into view and with it, the shouts of an angry man could be heard even over the waves. She couldn’t pick out any words, but there was no mistaking the rage that cracked the voice. But who was it? She and Brock redirected their steps to bring them closer to the Breakers where a woman stood against a wall, looking up at the man who yelled down at her face with terror.

Olivia stopped. It wasn’t just any young woman, it was Mila. But was that Alasdair, yelling at her?

The man didn’t turn his head from her for an instant, but Olivia recognized the chiseled cheekbones and the striking blond hair. That was Alasdair all right. But why was he coming off the rails when he seemed like the perfect gentleman? Seemed was the word, if this is how he treated her. What was he hiding beneath that knightly facade?

Shock was written all over Mila’s face. Her mouth hung agape in a desperate attempt to interrupt Alasdair’s angry tirade as he erupted angry words right in her face. “What were you thinking, Mil? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? That stuff is permanent!” His voice cracked with rage.

“I... I’m sorry,” Mila bleated, disbelief soaking her tone. Olivia could have cried at the frail way she tried to defend herself against whatever had awakened Alasdair’s wrath. “I thought you’d like it. I did it because I’m so in love with you!”

“You should have checked with me first.” Leaving her with his pitch, he threw a hand into the air. Olivia’s lungs refused to give her any air for a moment as she thought he might be about to strike her. Her body tensed with the move to interfere. But it turned out to be little more than an angry gesture as he pivoted, scattered sand and stormed away. Mila melted into the side of the building, her sides heaving with shocking sobs.

“What in the world…” Brock wasted no time jogging up to her. Olivia was on his heels. She knew that after a fight, the last thing she’d want was someone sticking their nose in her business, but neither she nor Brock was anyone to walk away from something like this without giving it a second thought. They had to be sure Mila was all right; she was too fragile to be treated like that.

Mila saw them before she had a chance to speak. Olivia kept her tone of voice calm, though laced with concern. She didn’t want to cause her any more upset. “Mila? Are you okay?” It was all she could do to keep from bombarding with her questions. What was that about? The demand hovered on the edge of her tongue, but she held it back. Whatever it was, there was no excuse for the way he was talking to her.

Mila’s hands came up and she examined them. Both of her hands trembled like mini earthquakes and her breaths came more shallow. Poor girl was scared. It made Olivia’s blood boil. One of the good ones, my butt.

“I... I thought he’d be pleased with the tattoo I got.”

The tattoo of Alisdair’s initials.

“But he was mad! So. Mad.” She sniffed, turning her gaze out toward the waters rather than meeting theirs. “I’ve never seen him like that before. I don’t understand why something like this would be so offensive to him.”

Offensive. What a polite term to say that he was flying off the handle, completely coming undone. Olivia had seen grenades that were less explosive than this. But what could she say? Not only did his behavior strike her as odd, it angered her.

She softened her voice. “I’m sorry.” There were more words she wanted to say, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember any of them. The thought that popped in her mind was so disgusting, so, so obvious that she could have kicked herself for not seeing it sooner. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t have. Because while obvious, it was also hidden.

“Mila... I’m sorry. There’s no reason he should have yelled at you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

She just replied with a sniff, looking down with crimson on her cheeks. She was embarrassed, and there was nothing Olivia could do about that now.

“Give him space to cool off,” Brock’s voice was so kind that it finally brought Mila’s gaze to something other than her feet. “Then maybe you two can talk about it.”

“I’ll just get it removed.” The hurt that strung her voice was too heavy. She sniffed again, running a finger underneath her nose and pushed off of the wall. “I have to go to work. Thanks, y’all. I’m sorry about,” She looked behind her as if looking back on the memory that, no doubt, embarrassed her. “This.”

She didn’t say much as she turned her back to Olivia and Brock, heading to the front door of Breakers, bolting into a jog like she wanted to leave as fast as possible. Brock shifted his weight, ready to say something, but Olivia started marching away from the scene. She fought the urge to run full tilt toward the hotel. “Let’s go back to the hotel room.”

Although she didn’t run, her pace was fast enough and Brock fell into line beside her, jogging to keep up. “Um, why? What’s wrong?”

“Because…” It made sense. Too much sickening sense. “I just realized something.”

“Olivia? What’s going on?” Brock settled across from her, eager to know what had caused his fiancé’s sudden urgency to get to her laptop. Olivia had practically flown to her computer and snapped it open with her screen filled with information. She spoke as she typed, her words just as rapid as the blurred clacking of her keys.

Olivia looked up with intensity burning in her eyes. It was the same look she got every time she had an “aha” moment, something that clicked, something that made sense. The only thing that disheartened her was that it wasn’t anything to do with a teen cult. It was a small indicator, but also a dead giveaway if her gut was right. And right now, her instinct was screaming at her louder than Alasdair had to Mila.

He still looked bewildered. “Okay?” His tone urged her to go on, but she had no need for motivation. She was on fire at this point. The only thing is, her thoughts were so scattered, it was like trying to put together a window that had a rock thrown through it. Where did she even start? Well, it was good to start with the obvious, the clue that kicked off her instinct. “Did you see how upset he was about her getting a tattoo?”

Brock’s eyes darkened. “Kinda hard to miss. But, yes, I did.” He tapped his steepled fingertips together again, deep in thought. “Being conservative is one thing and if tattoos bother you, it is understandable why something like Mila getting a tattoo would upset you. But flying off the handle is something entirely different. It’s just a tattoo. And for a guy who seemed to be so kind and tender toward her, there was nothing kind in the way he treated her at all.”

“Wondering why he would get upset over something so small?” Her eyes peered at Brock over the top of her laptop, seeing if he would connect the dots as she did.

He didn’t. “There isn’t any telling.”

“There might be.” Olivia put her laptop aside on the coffee table; her body lurched forward as she rattled off her thoughts. “Traffickers mark their victims with distinguishing tattoos that brand them as property.”

Brock’s eyebrows rose. Now, he got it. But she kept going.

“These tattoos can be a bar code, a special symbol or someone’s initials.”

“Someone’s initials…” Brock’s voice trailed off. His eyes focused on some part of the back wall as he worked out what she was already thinking. “And the tattoo that Mila got was Alasdair’s initials.” He held up his arm, rubbing a hand over the upper arm near the shoulder. “On her arm, a common place for a trafficker to mark.”

The arm, the back of the neck, still too close to where Mila had thought she’d hidden it. Olivia spoke as rapidly as Susanna had, only not with as much excitement. What she had unraveled was so disgusting, yet it was the very thing both of them had feared. Against all hope, Olivia had prayed and hoped that the missing teens weren’t the victims of human trafficking. Killing themselves for a cult was terrible, but living a life in gross slavery was yet another. It was a living death, trapping them day in and day out with zero hope of escape and robbing them of more than just their lives. But if these teens were the victims of human traffickers, it was going to be no more. Olivia would see to it that it would stop.

A picture of the red-headed girl, thirteen years old when she came up missing, flashed with strobe lights in Olivia’s mind, prodding her into anger. “What if he was upset with her because she accidentally branded herself as his and it didn’t make him happy? Or maybe? What if he’s playing her, using her as a cover?”

“And by her branding herself as his, she wouldn’t be very effective cover, then would she?” Brock mused. “Olivia... you’re a genius.”

“I have my moments.” She picked her laptop up again. “What did she say his last name was?”

“Crosby, I think.” Brock thought a moment.

Olivia typed in Alasdair Crosby,, and her screen filled up with information. She clicked through some pages, reading her findings out loud to Brock. “Crosby Inc. is a company that ships out of Charleston. The guy is local.” It might also explain why no bodies had ever been found... they’d been lured up to Charleston and shipped somewhere in the world.

“Where all does he ship to?” Brock leaned forward.

Olivia scrolled a bit. “South America, the UK, the Netherlands, to name a few.” She sat back, reading over her screen again until something seized her. A thought, a memory. This time, excitement really did begin to build inside of her as she snapped her gaze up to meet Brock. Her voice trailed off, but her thoughts kept going. “The Netherlands.”

He nodded. “Yes?”

“That teacher was speaking Dutch at the school.” She seized the idea. “Could it be that the guy we saw there that night was Alasdair?”

Brock raised his eyebrows and nodded. “The guy had lighter hair, like Alasdair does. Similar build, though all we could see was his back. It’s very possible.”

“Shipment. The number two…” More and more pieces were starting to make sense. Maybe they were closer than they’d thought they were. “I’m going to see if I can pull up the staff at Cape Fremont High.” Olivia minimized the screen with the information about Crosby Inc., ready to return to it at a later minute and do her homework on it. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she found the school. One click of the mouse brought the homepage up, lighting her face and the surrounding areas with the colors of the school mascot, blue and gray. The smiling faces of high school students met her gaze as the slideshow of pictures scrolled through, one picture after another. The football team, the high school band, one of the classrooms, a senior class picture. Olivia wasn’t interested in what the school had to offer, she was more interested in the staff. She rolled her cursor over the words staff directory and clicked. A list of names and email addresses replaced the smiling pictures of a happy high school.

“No pictures.” She patted the spot next to her. “Come, sit by me.”

Brock didn’t hesitate in dragging his chair over to sit by Olivia. By the time he settled next to her, propping his feet up on the footstool she shared with him, she had opened Facebook and started typing in all of the names listed in the directory. “It’s amazing what you can find on the internet these days.”

Brock snorted a laugh. “Everyone’s personal information, all up there for anyone to find. Not so good for them, but great for us.”

Olivia copied the principal’s name and pasted it into the search bar. She changed the settings to Cape Fremont and quickly found him. “Well, that’s not him. He has had one too many doughnuts. The guy we saw was fit.”

Brock laughed. “Well, at least we’re not suspecting the principal. Yet. If the guy was fit, maybe look up the football coach?”

“Next.” Olivia copied Ryan the football coach into the same search bar. “Hmm. No. He’s not even close.” Besides, most of the teens who had come up missing were girls. Drama director, maybe? Or band? She moved on to the next teacher in the staff directly. Alana Fleming. Catchy name, she thought to herself as she pasted it into the search bar and clicked enter. The first picture that came up matched the brown-haired woman she had seen driving away in her car that day. “Aha. I think we’ve got one teacher.”

“The one who speaks Dutch?” Brock leaned forward. “That’s her, all right. Huh. Would you look at that? Teacher of the Year award.”

“Great smile.” Olivia soaked the image in, studying it. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn’t place it. Was it just that she’d seen Alana twice before? Or… Olivia squinted, leaning closer. No. It wasn’t the teacher’s look at all. It was what she was wearing. A shell necklace that caged a pearl inside of it hung around her neck by a silver chain. She waved to Brock. “Brock... hand me that file over there.”

Brock looked back, searching for the file in question, then grabbed it from the bag. He fished it out and handed it to her. “Thank you,” She mumbled, her mind going a mile a minute. That necklace. She had seen that necklace before. She flipped through until she found the picture of the thirteen-year-old redhead, one of the first to go missing. Melissa. Her smiling face looked back at Olivia, and around her neck hung the same necklace that Alana wore in the picture. Olivia’s eyes went wide and she pointed, her finger hovering just under the tiny necklace in the screen. “She’s wearing the same necklace as this girl is.”

She flipped the image around to show Brock, who scanned the picture with eager eyes. He then glanced back at the photo of Alana. “They’re not related, are they?”

Olivia shook her head. “No. Melissa’s parents are listed as Dawn and Cody, not Alana. And she’s a bit too old to be a sister.”

“Normally, I’d think nothing of it,” Brock’s voice carried the wonder of discovering a vital clue. “But the necklace is very unique. It looks like even the pearl is the same color.”

There it was. There was their answer. Olivia raised her gaze to look at Brock. “That’s enough for us to go talk to her.”

The next school day couldn’t arrive soon enough. With it, the sunny skies disappeared and were replaced by a gentle patter of rain and a hint of more. Gray spread across the sky and humidity thickened the air, making Olivia’s clothes stick to her. She’d hardly slept at all the night before, preparing her mind to corner Alana Fleming at the school. She and Brock decided that now would be the time to announce to the world who they were, maybe not to Mila at the cafe or anyone else, but to Alana, who hadn’t even known them. They could speak more freely with her if they identified themselves, and they needed answers. Too much pointed back to the school. She had been given an envelope on a Saturday afternoon, before rushing out of there like she hadn’t wanted to be seen. She had been speaking Dutch in a quiet room before sneaking the same man out of the school, also not wanting him to be seen. And Alasdair Crosby owned a shipping company that shipped to the Netherlands. Maybe his getting upset over Mila’s tattoo was stupid, something trivial, but for right now, there was too much smoke for there not to be any fire.

Olivia pulled into the school parking lot, not bothering to hide her car. Relying on the element of surprise, Olivia got out of the car with purpose and Brock came up beside her. “Are you ready for this?”

“Born ready.”

She and Brock took their time, crossing the parking lot in long strides until they climbed the steps to the school. Brock pulled the door open and Olivia strode into the large building. They checked in quickly with the principal, who was flabbergasted, but directed them where they needed to go.

Voices of students huddling around their lockers met her ears, but she pushed past them, heading toward the classroom where she and Brock had overheard her secret conversation with the Dutch-speaking man Monday night. Olivia peered into the classroom, delighted to see Alana standing at her desk, working on putting some things away. Other than her, the classroom was empty.

Olivia rapped on the door with the back of her knuckles. “Ms. Fleming?”

Alana looked up, a smile crested her face. “Hello”?” She put down the folder she had been arranging. “Can I help you?”

“Yes.” Olivia stepped into the room, Brock close at her heels. She flashed her badge. “I’m Special Agent Olivia Knight, this is Special Agent Brock Tanner. We’re with the FBI. We need to have a word with you.”

Alana dropped her smile, the pleasantness draining from her expression, leaving only politeness. “What can I do for you?”

Olivia made sure to soak in every detail that she could. Human behavior and its giveaways. Alana remained composed but underneath that composure was a hint of expectancy. No surprise showed in her eyes, so was she living with the expectation that maybe someday, it would come to this? Maybe a glimmer of nervousness was added in there, as well. “The FBI, huh? That’s some pretty big stuff.” She tried for humor. It fell flat. “What’s this about?”

“May I close the door?” Olivia gestured to the classroom door. She knew firsthand how easy it was to overhear a conversation from outside the classroom.

Alana shrugged. “Sure.” She came around the side of her desk and walked toward the door, swinging it closed and sealing off the din of the students in the other room. Only when they were alone did she turn to face Olivia and Brock, shifting her weight onto one leg. “What is it?”

Her words came out clipped, as if she was ready to quickly answer and hurry them on their way. Olivia noted how she made sure she was between them and her way out, not the other way around. She had positioned herself to be closer to the door. Her smile turned polite, and she struggled to keep her voice upbeat.

Brock didn’t wait. “Do you know an Alasdair Crosby?”

Alana’s face could have been a statue for how expressionless it remained. “Yeah, I do. He owns a shipping company that operates out of Charleston, why?” She didn’t miss a beat in redirecting her questions to them. Olivia didn’t take the bait. They were the ones asking questions.

“How do you know him?”

Her lip came up in an ugly sneer that ruined the otherwise beautiful face. “You’re in Cape Fremont. Everyone knows everyone, especially the richest man in town.”

Brock took a step toward her, crowding into her space a bit. “Could it be that you know him a little better than that?”

While Brock worked his angle, Olivia observed even the tiniest detail about Alana’s behavior and expressions. Her anger threatened to resurface when she noticed the shell necklace hanging around Alana’s neck. It was almost like she was rubbing it in their faces when they still could do nothing about it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alana rolled her eyes. “I know of him, not know him, personally. Sure we’ve bumped into each other in town now and again, but we haven’t ever said anything other than the usual polite ‘hi, bye, excuse me.’” Olivia was convinced she was either evading or outright lying. Well, if she was going to deny knowing Alasdair, then Olivia would gladly throw another curveball at her.

“Okay.” She nodded to Alana’s neck. “Where did you get that necklace?”

Guilt took over the innocent facade. It wasn’t the subtle flicker of alarm in her eyes or the flaring of her nostrils that gave it away. It was that an innocent person would be thoroughly confused and wonder what the necklace had to do with anything. Judging by the way that Alana’s fingers flew up to the necklace to touch it while keeping her eyes pinned on Olivia and Brock, she knew exactly why Olivia asked.

“Oh, this old thing? They sell them in all the tourist shops.” She lowered her hands and cupped them, raising her left one up like she was demonstrating a treasure chest. “You get the necklace and it comes with an oyster that you can open with a pearl inside. You collect the pearl inside. Each color is supposed to represent something different. Good luck, love, wealth, you know. Once you crack the oyster and retrieve the pearl, you put it in the necklace and wear it.”

A likely story that a random pearl necklace with varied colors happened to share the same orange color as the one in the picture with Melissa.

“So you got it from a gift shop?” Brock’s tone made it obvious that he didn’t believe her.

“Yeah.” Alana bit back with annoyance. “Where else would I have gotten it?” Anger brewed on her face and she twitched as if a fly had landed on her nose. “You know what? I don’t have anything to say to you.”

She wasn’t talking, but her behavior gave more away than whatever she might have said. Her nervousness had melted into anger, a common mistake for anyone being interrogated as it hinted at an underlying fear that she had been caught. Olivia wasn’t ready to let her go. Before Alana lawyered up, before she had a chance to claim her rights to remain silent, she had to bullet point her with a question.

“Ellie Cline. What happened to her?”

Her question stopped Alana in her tracks, hand frozen over the doorknob that led to the outside of her classroom. Her muscles stiffened, and she took her time turning back to face Olivia and Brock. Her stone facade was back and she refused to let any emotion show on her face. Her voice was hard, shooting angry words back at Olivia. “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d have told the authorities.”

Sure she would have. Unless, perhaps, she was the mastermind behind all of this.

“You were close with her, right?”

“I’m close with many of my students.”

“How about Melissa Downs?”

“Who?”

Brock supplied a picture, and Alana frowned as she studied it.

“I don’t know this girl. She’s obviously way too young to have been in any of my classes.”

“But surely you’d have seen her around the school, right?” Olivia pressed. “And wouldn’t it have been a concern when she stopped showing up?”

“Agents, if you’re going to accuse me of something, just come out and say it,” Alana replied. “Otherwise I have a class to get ready for.”

Her body jolted forward when a crack appeared in the door. The door hit her, pushing her forward a bit. “Oof.” Annoyance permeated her tone as she looked behind her.

Mae’s worried face appeared in the crack the door made. Alana stepped away from the door so she could swing it open wider.

“That door was closed…” Alana dripped some passive-aggressive sweetness into her tone.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Fleming! And I’m sorry I bumped you, but this is important.”

The tension thickened in the air. Alana narrowed a glare at Olivia and Brock as if to inform them just how unwelcome they were for this moment, but answered Mae. “What is it?”

“Susanna Webster didn’t show up to school today.”

Olivia felt the world tilt and the color drained from her face. No. No. Absolutely not.

Mae’s attention wavered from Alana to Olivia and Brock. Recognition showed up in bright colors on her face but instantly was replaced by confusion. Probably wondering what Olivia and Brock were doing here at the school.

Alana didn’t budge, save to move forward and set a hand on Mae’s shoulder. “What?”

Mae had the attention of all three adults in the room, probably holding Olivia’s more than anyone’s. She sniffed, words tumbling from her mouth. “I tried to call her on her phone, but she isn’t answering, and none of the texts I’ve sent her are showing as being read.”

Alana’s nonchalant shrug drove Olivia to see red. How could she be so unconcerned with a missing student when teens were known to go missing from this town? “Maybe she’s out surfing?”

Surfing? In this weather? Olivia shot a glance out of the window where the drizzle from earlier was only increasing into a full-blown thunderstorm. Lightning flickered a white light through the sky, and a rumble quickly followed it.

“No. It’s storming.” Mae confirmed her suspicions. “Susanna never surfs when it’s storming. She doesn’t want to get struck by lightning.”

But she wasn’t at school. And she wasn’t answering her phone. Olivia slowly turned her head to collide with Brock’s gaze. Absolute horror dawned on her face as Brock met her with the same. Olivia fought to keep it together rather than coming undone on this teacher who didn’t seem to give a single care. About Ellie, about Susanna, about anyone. If she wasn’t the mastermind behind the missing teens or the teacher that Brock had suspected of being an influence in these kids’ lives, Olivia wasn’t sure who was.

Alana was back, with more sarcastic remarks. She turned to face them and nodded her head toward Mae. “There. Susanna has apparently gone missing while you two are in here wasting time, talking to me. Clearly, I couldn’t have done it. I’ve been here all morning, ask them.” She nodded her head to the hallway and, in essence, her students.

“What’s going on?” Mae’s quaking voice asked. “Why are they here?”

They didn’t owe her an answer, and Olivia barely heard her quiet question above the roaring blood pressure in her ears. She wasn’t about to waste any more time, or even any more breath with this woman. Brock stepped toward the door, taking the lead, and pointing at Alana. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be back.”

He pushed past her, uttering an excuse me to Mae. Olivia shot one more warning glare in Alana’s direction before she slipped from the classroom to find the missing ray of sunshine she and Brock had come to know and love. Susanna couldn’t be missing. But if they acted quickly, maybe they still had a chance at finding her.

“Let’s start with Susanna’s house.” Brock pushed the speed limit as his car sped toward the hotel. “We saw where she went.”

“If her dad is even there…” Olivia held onto the handle on the roof of the car, refusing to look away from the windshield and the dismal gray that painted the afternoon in appropriately gloomy colors. “Susanna said he’s never home.”

“Well, then we get a warrant and search her house.” The intensity in Brock’s voice only doubled, leaving no room for argument. Coming from the same man who had reminded Olivia that they weren’t here to help Susanna, they were here to find Ellie Cline and her band of missing teens, he had one focus on his mind at the moment. His focus fused with Olivia’s, and it became all about finding Susanna before she became another victim, lost and never found, with nothing but an epitaph and unanswered questions to honor her memory.

Brock pulled into the parking lot that led to Breakers Cafe. He shifted the car into park and killed the engine before Olivia could even unbuckle her seat belt. The parking lot of Breakers was swarmed with police cars, flashing lights indicating that they weren’t here for breakfast, and they were called out for some sort of emergency. Olivia got the feeling that they were here for the same purpose that she and Brock were. But how did they know about it so quickly?

“I guess they know about it, too?” Olivia mused before swinging her door open. A mist pelted her face as she stepped out, closing the door behind her. Hurried footsteps carried her and Brock to the door that faced the parking lot and Brock swung it open.

The entire atmosphere was no less stormy than the building supercell outside. Only a few guests lingered, but all eyes were on the police at the bar counter where Olivia and Brock had shared many a meal. Mila stood at the counter, eyes wide and pooling with terror. A man stood before her, the second one to yell at her in a week, only this one wasn’t Alasdair. The voice matched the angry tone they had heard yelling at Susanna the morning she was out enjoying her surf and his demanded questions removed all doubt as to who he was.

“Where is my daughter?” He slammed his hands down on the counter, causing Mila to jump and step back. “She’s always hanging out here, where is she?!”

“Sir.” The officer in charge pinned him with a tone of authority. “I’m going to need you to calm down and step back from the counter.”

“Not like I’m gonna hurt anyone!” The man spun around to face the officer. “I’m just tryin’ to find my daughter and y’all are just standin’ around useless!”

“Sir, we are doing everything we can…”

The trained response was cut short by Susanna’s father slamming yet another fist down onto the counter. “No, you’re not! You’re here, talkin’ to me!”

Olivia and Brock approached the scene with caution. The officer in charge let his gaze flicker up to them. They took this moment to throw their cover to the wind and flash their badges. “We’re with the FBI.”

Mila gasped and her eyes widened even further. A hint of betrayal rained on her expression, but Susanna’s father shouted over any questions she might have asked.

“You guys don’t understand. My daughter is gone. This is serious. She took her surfboard!”

Oh, no. Had something happened to her early that morning? Perhaps she had gotten upset and went out to surf anyway, despite the stormy weather? What if she wasn’t a part of the missing teens, what if something else had happened? Olivia cast another glance out to the ocean but a red flag billowed on the flagpole to warn any beachgoers to stay out of the water while the storm was raging. Susanna was practically a pro surfer. She wouldn’t ignore the red flag warning and go out there anyway. But if she had taken her surfboard, that could only mean two things. She had either had enough and run away, or she had left with someone she trusted. And this close to that surfing competition, the latter option became the more likely.

Brock took over with a few questions. “Special Agents Brock Tanner and Olivia Knight. We’ll take it from here.”

The officer in charge stepped back and Susanna’s father faced them, his face beet red with rage.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“I’m not the one missing.”

Brock worked to control his anger. His jaw twitched but his voice indicated no hostility. “I’m aware of that, sir, but we need to ask you a few questions that will help us locate your daughter. Right now, we know just as much as you do, and by asking these questions, we’ll know more and have a better chance of finding her.”

“Fine.” The guy huffed a sigh and his arms folded over his chest. “Jim Webster. My daughter, Susanna, is missing.”

“When was the last time you saw Susanna?” Brock’s calm voice brought order to the chaotic scene.

“Last night, right before bed. When I woke up this morning, the house was unusually quiet. When she didn’t come out for breakfast, I went into her room to check on her. She wasn’t there. And her surfboard is missing. If you know Susanna, that’s huge. She loves that surfboard more than me.”

Maybe because you loved other things more than her? Ever think about that? Olivia kept her silent retorts to herself and let Brock do the talking.

“Is it possible that she was out surfing and maybe got caught in the storm?” Brock repeated the questions that Olivia had already dismissed.

“No. She never surfs in the storm. Not even after we fight.”

“Do you two fight often?” she asked. If Susanna wasn’t going to speak up about her abusive relationship with her parents, then Olivia would drag it out of her father with hard-hitting questions that left no mercy.

“I don’t see how that has to do with my missing daughter!”

Olivia placated him with an outstretched hand. “Sir, we’re just trying to gather details that might help us find her faster.”

“What, you think I killed her or something?” Jim exploded.

Mila gave a cry of distress and Olivia fought a sigh. “Does your daughter have any boyfriends or anyone she hangs out with other than her teenage friends?”

“No. She doesn’t have time for boys.” Jim folded his arms against his chest. Olivia was glad he didn’t pursue a demand for her to answer him. For all she knew, yes, he could have killed her. The man had a raging temper and this could be a nice little cover-up for the murder of his own daughter.

“Is she into any kind of spooky stuff that could be considered cultish? Astrology or anything like that?”

“No.” Annoyance infiltrated Jim’s sight.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Brock instructed him. “We’re going to find her.” He shouldn’t make promises, but he did. Olivia had made the same vow, only to no one but herself. “We just need to talk to a few people to get some more details. We’ll also need to see her phone and her laptop.”

“She doesn’t have a laptop. We could never afford that. And her phone is gone. I’m assuming she took it with her. Can’t y’all track it or something?”

“What’s her phone number?” Brock took out a pen and scribbled the ten-digit code that would lead to voicemail. Still, Olivia gave it a try. She dialed the number into her phone and pressed it to her ear. But instead of a series of rings, a squealing trill met her ears.

“We’re sorry. The number you called cannot be connected. Please hang up and try again.”

“You’re sure this is her number?” Olivia hung up.

“You don’t think I’d know my own daughter’s phone number?”

Olivia had had enough of his sarcasm. “Well, you don’t know her well enough to know where she could have gone, so I wouldn’t put it past you.”

His lips clamped into a thin white line on his face, no doubt his attempt at keeping angry words from flooding through. Olivia gave up on him and turned to Mila instead. Mila was the definition of a hot mess, falling apart and hugging herself. Her face had been washed by tears and she worked to stifle her sobs. “Mila?”

She gasped in a breath that shook with sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Olivia leaned on the counter. The reality became evident on Mila’s face. She didn’t have the look in her eyes that indicated she was innocent in the matter. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Her eyes betrayed her, telling Olivia that she knew exactly what had happened to Susanna.

“Brock and I need to talk with Mila alone,” Olivia instructed.

“Let’s talk outside.” The detective nodded to Jim, who flashed an angry look at Olivia for putting him in his place but followed them out without a word.

As soon as the officers and Jim had left, Olivia leaned all her weight on the counter and burrowed her gaze into the waitress who had been so helpful. Could it be that she was the one they were searching for all along? Not that Olivia was throwing the possibility of Alana Fleming out, but Mila obviously knew something. Maybe they were in cahoots, with Alasdair at their center? “Mila. I need to know everything you know.”

“I don’t understand.” Mila’s words barely made it through the hiccupped sobs that wracked her body. She clamped her arms around her stomach as if she wanted to make herself smaller. What didn’t she understand?

“Do you know anything about this?” The friendliness leaked from Brock’s tone, not unkindly but with a gravity that conveyed how serious this was. Olivia held her breath, willing the woman to speak honestly.

“Of course I don’t know.” More telltale signs of lying appeared on Mila’s face. Her eyes darted to the left and she simply could not stand still on her feet. “I just know she’s gone.”

“How did you know she was gone?”

“Her…” Mila waved her hand. “Her dad came in here, raving and ranting, demanding to know where she was.” She kept her gaze averted from Olivia’s as her lies continued to feed. “When I finally got him to calm down long enough to tell me what was wrong, he said she was missing. He blamed me and the people here at Breakers for it. I had to call the cops, he was out of his mind!”

He was out of his mind, there was no denying that, but there was no denying that Mila had known aside from the little visit from Susanna’s father. She leaned even closer, trying to get Mila to look up at her.

“Mila.” She pronounced her name with intention.

Mila’s red-rimmed eyes flickered up to meet Olivia’s and she froze, no doubt realizing that she was caught in her own web of lies.

“Talk to us.”

Her lip quivered and she took a quick breath, but Olivia cut her off before she had a chance to spill more lies. Mila wasn’t as vindictive or cruel as Alana had been; her lies seemed rooted more in fear than anything else. What was she hiding? Who was she hiding?

“We’re with the FBI.” Olivia dropped the cover of the newlywed couple entirely and laid out the situation in brilliant colors for her. “We’re investigating the missing teenagers that have been disappearing over the last while.”

Mila’s eyes grew wide with the realization and she stuttered a bit. “But... but Susanna... she’s not just a missing teen.”

So she did know something. That much Olivia had already figured out. Now that she’d admitted that much, it would hopefully be easy to extract the information from her to figure out where Susanna was. And possibly, a few of the other teens as well. She racked her brain, thinking over everything they knew so far. “Do you know Alana Fleming?”

Mila shook her head. “She’s a teacher at the school, right? I didn’t have any classes with her. Susanna and the other kids talk about her sometimes. She’s really popular with the students. Charismatic, lighthearted, you know. Really nice.”

She was to them. Brock and Olivia had seen an entirely different woman altogether. The angel face she showed to the kids was nothing more than a mask to cover up her true self.

Brock took the reins for a moment, getting straight to the root of the situation. “I need you to tell us everything you know about Alasdair Crosby.”

“Mmmph.” Mila’s lip quivered and two tears spilled down her face with no control. “Why?”

“We don’t believe he is who you think he is.”

“What?” Mila sucked in a breath. The look on her face shattered as if Brock had just ripped every hope, dream, and good thing from her. “He’s... he’s a philanthropist.”

“Does Susanna know him?” Olivia asked, gravely.

“Look, just because he was yelling at me that day, that was a one-time deal.” Mila’s head shook so rapidly that Olivia wondered if she had given herself a headache because of it. “He’s not usually like that, he’s a great guy, he’s—”

She heaped defense after defense on her answer, but it didn’t answer their question. Brock lifted his chin ever so slightly, asserting authority. “Mila.” He assured her that he would not be taking “no” for an answer. “Does Susanna know Alasdair Crosby?”

The thickness of the defeat radiated off of Mila in strong, tangible waves that threatened to knock Olivia over. Mila had entangled herself in a web of lies and could go no further. Her shoulders sagged and the sigh racked from the depths of her soul. “Yes.”

Now they were getting somewhere. Olivia and Brock both found themselves leaning closer, eyes intent on whatever Mila was about to confess.

Mila took her time, which irked Olivia as she tried to be patient. Mila took her hair and gathered it into a ponytail between her thumbs to swing it over her shoulder. A shake of her head. She flattened her hands on the counter and looked into Olivia and Brock’s eyes with genuineness. “Alasdair is a good man. He’s been helping young people who have a rough home life find a better life and doing it anonymously because he doesn’t want the attention.”

Olivia felt her body tingle with a gripping numbness. Helping young people find a better life? Oh, Mila, are you really that naive?

“He found a surfing competition in Hawaii and he knows how much it meant to Susanna, so he offered her a way to get to that competition. If she won, he was going to help her establish her life there and live comfortably. She’s almost eighteen, time to be out on her own, anyway, so by the time the competition takes place, she’ll be ready to live by herself or with a roommate. She’ll be legal.”

Olivia felt each word as if it were a blow to her chest, her stomach. She released a pent-up breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as reality sank its talons into her. Gone. Susanna was gone. That surfing competition had been too good to be true, and this guy, Alasdair, had been using it as nothing more than a fishing lure to get her to run away with him. Only, she wasn’t going to Hawaii, now, was she?

For the first time, Olivia found herself almost too defeated to talk, to say anything in response. That was fine. Brock made up for it. Astonishment gripped him, countering her numbness as he blinked at Mila in shock. “You let a minor run away from home? To Hawaii?”

“She’s almost eighteen!” Mila defended again as if that somehow made it okay. Presenting her case before them like a defense attorney would, she kept digging a deeper hole for herself. But in her eyes burned nothing more than concern for her dear friend Susanna. “She was in an abusive relationship with her dad and wouldn’t talk about it with anyone in authority, so Alasdair was going to help her get established in Hawaii doing what she loved. She has a chance at a new life!”

Yeah, she did. A new life she didn’t want. A new life that would make her old one look like she grew up as a princess of a peaceful kingdom.

Olivia released another breath through tightly closed-off lips. “So.” She drew out the word even as the conclusion came together in her mind. “Alasdair was that ‘friend’ that was going to help her get there.”

Mila nodded. “Yes.”

“And he was probably that ‘special someone’ she talked about, wasn’t he?”

Mila’s face fell. She didn’t cry, though she looked like she was struggling to keep the hurt from plucking tears from the corners of her eyes. She wiped at a sniff with her fingers. “He loves me.” The broken conviction with which she pronounced the words was enough to break her spirit. She really believed that he cared about her, didn’t she? Even after yelling in her face over that tattoo. Now that tattoo theory Olivia concocted made so much sense. But even after all of that, Mila was buying into his lies, hook, line and sinker. Oh, how he was playing her! “He said I was the only person who could help him with this.” Pride started to beam in her tone as if she were doing something good. “He said it was wrong for kids to be forced to live in bad conditions because of the laws stating otherwise, so he asked me to help him secretly give these kids a better life.”

In other words, something illegal. There was a reason it was illegal. Dread formed in the pit of Olivia’s stomach as she forced herself to ask, “How many kids are we talking?”

“We’ve helped about six, so far, over the past two years.”

Six? So there was another partner in crime. Probably Alana Fleming. She could deny knowing Alasdair all she wanted. Her defensive behavior and subtle signs of lying gave her away.

“He really is a good guy, he isn’t doing anything wrong!” Mila cried.

“Unfortunately, he is.” Brock brought her back down to earth with the grave reality. “No matter his motive, helping minors run away is, in fact, a crime.”

“But she didn’t want the life of social services getting involved, foster care…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Brock gave his head a single shake. “It’s still illegal. That’s human trafficking, Mila. Do you understand?”

Her jaw dropped. In that moment, Mila’s expression turned to fear as she realized how she was probably no less in trouble than Alasdair was, even though it appeared that she was doing what she did in innocence.

“Where is his shipping company? You said “out of Charleston?”

Mila seemed more than willing to answer Brock’s question now that she realized she was in trouble and nodded. “Yes.”

“Let’s go.” Brock pivoted to leave the restaurant and Olivia shadowed his heels. She fought the gripping feeling that they were already too late.

Rain doused the windshield, only to be flung aside by Olivia’s windshield wipers. It was as if the deluge had waited for the perfect time to slow them down as they headed up to Charleston. The air in the car was as thick as the storm outside.

“Alasdair has been playing Mila this whole time!” Brock growled. “How could she not realize that he’s been using her to prey upon vulnerable kids?”

Mila had the innocence of the teens she lured to their living nightmares. She had allowed herself to be swept away by it, by this man who looked like he could work women like dough. Olivia, herself, had commented how he seemed too good to her, until that day that he got after her for her tattoo. A.C. She had branded herself as his and he didn’t like that. “He seemed like a good guy.” Olivia shook her head. “Seemed. He probably is some kind of sociopath who manipulates anyone he can get his hands on. The charming smile. The constant ‘looking out for her’ while all the time, he was using her.” Olivia clenched the steering wheel in her hands, willing Charleston to be closer than the hour drive the rain had extended it to.

Brock leaned against the window, breathing out a sigh that fogged the window before evaporating once again. “Susanna, though.” The pain stabbed through his voice at the mere mention of her name. Olivia knew. She felt it, too. Even though the cold realization gripped both of them that they might be too late, she wasn’t giving up on her.

No. It’s not going to be too late. We’re going to make it to her.

It had taken time to procure a warrant to search the small ship, even with a rush on it. Olivia had called for backup ahead of time, guaranteeing they’d be waiting for them on the dock, ready to spring into action when they showed up with the search warrant.

“She was going to get out of here! She was going to be a surf instructor, she was going to have a better life for herself!” Brock splayed his hand in frustration before curling his fingers into a fist. “She was going to make it.”

“She is going to make it.” Olivia corrected, bolting her eyes on the road before her. “Because we are going to get to that shipment before it leaves.”

Brock nodded. The rest of the painful drive passed in silence, minus the downpour on the car roof and windshield. When they got to the harbor at Charleston, the rain tried to conceal the ship that was waiting at the dock, ready to take off. The ship wasn’t the huge cargo ship that usually left the port, which was a good thing, considering they had so much space to search.

“See? We’re on time.” Olivia wasn’t sure if she was telling herself this, or Brock. Nevertheless, she shot from the car, trusting Brock to be right behind her and approached a man standing in a raincoat on the dock. The rain came down in waterfalls now, pelting the crew. Olivia gave the dock a perusal glance before approaching the man wrapped in a raincoat. The waterproof surface did nothing to erase the misery from his eyes at having to stand out here in the rain while the shipment was delayed. The rounded face and dark eyes told her this wasn’t Alasdair, who looked like he wasn’t around. Maybe he was on the ship?

Olivia’s badge nearly slipped through her hand as she flipped it open, trusting the rain to do a nice job of washing it before she stashed it away again. “FBI. Are you the shipment manager?”

“Yes.” He gave a gruff nod.

“We have a warrant to search this ship.” Olivia finished. She glanced over at the other local officers gathering, ready to do their part to help her and Brock discover if anyone was on board.

A sigh rattled the man to his bones, but he stepped aside. “Go ahead. How long is this going to take?”

Brock chilled the man with a glare. “It’ll take as long as it takes.”

He and Olivia climbed aboard the ship, followed by the backup they had requested. As the officers shouted to one another where to go and where to start searching first, Olivia pondered where would be the best place to start looking.

“We’ve got the deck,” the leading officer assured them.

“We’ll take below deck,” Brock stated before darting off to the cabin. The rain eased the drenching soak it had graced them with, but the constant percussion of the heavy raindrops hollowed out the voices, drowning them out over the constant drumming.

Olivia started with the control room, knowing the chances of their missing kids being there were not likely. They were never zero, though, and that right there might be enough for Alasdair to stash some victims away in the least likely of places. All she found was the control board and flashing lights, a window that overlooked the soaking deck. She wasted no time before moving on down below deck.

A darkened staircase led down to the belly of the ship where the crew’s cabins lined the wall. Having evacuated everyone onto the deck, Olivia and Brock took turns opening the doors and giving the rooms a quick but thorough search. Olivia threw herself to her hands and knees, looking under the beds while Brock rifled through the tiny closets on the other end. Thankfully, the rooms were simple and small enough that anyone hiding would’ve been found quickly.

Olivia tore the place apart but found no sign of Susanna or any kidnapping victims. The rooms all looked perfectly normal, some with made beds, some without. They went through each of the crew’s cabins before Olivia relinquished a sigh of defeat.

“Well. Now we get the distinct pleasure of helping look through each and every container.”

Brock nodded. “This is going to take a while. I don’t think she’s here, though.”

Olivia started back up the stairs. “No?”

“No. The crew and the manager were far too comfortable with us looking around. If something was illegal, he’d be sweating bullets right now.”

He was right. Hating this thought, Olivia made it back onto the deck and gave her hair a fresh soaking of rain. “Unless no one knows.”

They started on the other end of the ship, swinging containers open to set some of the medical supplies aside. Olivia didn’t care how messy it was, only that everything was searched with a fine-toothed comb. With each open container, she grew more and more disheartened. The ripping open revealed nothing but box upon box of medical supplies. Frustrated by the fruitless search that did little more than waste their time, Olivia kept going, even calling out on occasion.

“Hello? Hello! Can anyone hear me?”

“She’s not here.”

Brock pronounced the words like a death sentence, frustration lacing each syllable. Congregating with the other members of their little search warrant party, Olivia shifted her weight to one hip, refusing to look as defeated as she felt. This was not the end! They still had other options.

“Have you had any other shipments going out?” She directed her question to the manager, standing there like a drowned rat and looking more and more miserable by the minute.

He shook his head. “Just last Sunday and Monday.”

Olivia tucked the information away to use later. “When is your next shipment due after this one?”

The man fought another sigh. “Not until two days from now.”

“Do you ever see the owner Alasdair Crosby coming around here?” Brock asked.

A simple shrug combined the man’s answer. “Yeah, I do. Every once in a while, he comes up here to oversee the shipping. He isn’t around every single day, though.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Olivia had to know if he was still in the area. If he wasn’t, maybe he had taken Susanna with him some other way.

“Last Sunday, before the shipment. He came around, inspecting something, but then he got a phone call and left.”

“Did he happen to say anything to you?”

“What do I look like, a walking book of records?” The annoyance in the man’s tone only doubled with her repeated questions. “I believe he said something about delaying one of the containers. I don’t care, I just check off what’s on the deck and what’s not and go from there.”

“Do you know where we can find him?” Brock’s question was a shot in the dark, but even a shot in the dark could be deadly.

“No,” came the all-too-expected reply. “I don’t ask questions. I don’t question him and I don’t ever expect to see him. His surprise visits are nothing more than a nuisance. It slows the process down. Pain in my ass.”

Olivia glanced behind her as the other officers made wise use of their time, searching the area about the dock causally, not wanting to give up yet. Maybe giving a second look-over to pick up clues rather than obvious missing teens. “All of the containers that are going out on this shipment have been loaded, right?”

“Right. All we have to do is get out of here. As it is, we’re going to be late enough already.”

Well, that was just too bad. Olivia nodded. “Thank you.”

She pulled Brock next to the guard shack, out of hearing and leaned closer to him. Her murmurs were barely heard above the rain and the thundering waves. The occasional crack of thunder caused her to pause to wait for the rumbles to pass.

“Where is she?” Olivia looked back at the cargo ship they had needlessly searched. “She’s been missing since this morning, where could she possibly be?”

Brock brought her back down to earth again, using logic against her worst nightmare. “She can’t be far. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. And if no other shipments have gone out, that means she still has to be in the area, right?”

“Unless the manager wasn’t telling the truth. I’ll call the Coast Guard and see what we’ve got in the way of ships from Crosby Inc. In the meantime, if he didn’t rush her to the ship right away, what happened to her?”

“If I were Alasdair, where would I take her?” Brock clawed his fingers through his damp hair, doing nothing to enhance the appearance it gave off, sticking to his head and curling under the humidity. He barely brought his hand down before he paused, his hand midair, fingers still curled. “Let’s go back to Cape Fremont.” Urgency seized him and he strode toward the car. “I’ll drive.”

“Why?” Olivia trotted up beside him, swinging the keys into his hand.

“Because I know someone who might be able to help.”

Between the search for Alasdair’s shipment and the hour-long drive back through the rain that only began to let up when they left, Olivia felt like she and Brock had wasted a whole day. The sun was beginning to set by the time they blew past the sign that read Welcome to Cape Fremont. Olivia didn’t feel very welcome, and knowing what they knew now made her want to warn off anyone who ever wanted to visit this town again, particularly the teenagers. She felt fatigue weighing her eyes down, the bags forming under her eyes indicative of a day spent with exhaustion being the only result of her and Brock’s work that day.

“We’re here,” Brock assured both her and himself as he passed the sign. The traffic bunched up in the lanes again as they moved through the town, and Olivia clawed her fingers through her hair. “We had to come right at the end of rush hour.”

“We’re going to make it.” Brock took over being the positive one. Olivia appreciated how they balanced each other out, leaning on one another for the positivism they needed. Even though the situation looked bleak, Olivia refused to give up hope. It hadn’t quite been twenty-four hours yet and she believed what every agent, officer and detective was told: the first twenty-four hours were crucial, the highest chance of finding a missing person. After that, the chances started to dwindle.

She relied on Sheriff Billy Carter to put out the Amber Alert and for Susanna’s picture to be shown all over social media, but was it enough? If Alasdair, Alana, or anyone else was a trafficker, they knew how to keep their victims hidden. Which is why they were going to see this person that Brock insisted could help.

Brock pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s office so fast that his tires gave a little squeal. “Sorry,” He muttered. “Just trying to get there.”

“It’s fine,” Olivia shook her head. She knew Brock wasn’t a reckless driver, but he knew when to hasten. Right now, this was just a stop, a stepping stone to get where they needed to be. Olivia viewed it as a bridge, but one that would easily collapse and prove to waste more of their time. All of their hopes of gaining some ground in this search rested on this one visit.

She and Brock got out of the car. The rain had dulled to a mist that danced in the air, threatening to bring fog the next morning but hopefully no more rain. Olivia pushed the buzzer next to the door and waited for what felt like an eternity before the voice answered.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re with the FBI, here to have a meeting with a suspect.”

The door unlocked, allowing Olivia and Brock to slip through before it sealed shut behind them. Olivia had called Billy ahead of time from the road, informing him that they needed to talk to Josh Gallegos as soon as possible. Josh wasn’t going to be thrilled about any of this, and Olivia felt torn between trying to establish a better relationship with him or playing tough. Right now, she just wanted answers. Every second that ticked by was a second that Susanna was slipping away from them, possibly to join the rest of the kids from this town that had never been found.

They found Josh in his usual belligerent state, his knee bouncing up and down again, slumped in the chair. His only greeting was another sigh and roll of his eyes.

Olivia didn’t care. She abandoned the idea of trying to be friendly with him. That would take too long. She didn’t even sit.

Brock leaned his palms on the table, leaning into Josh’s space with eyes wide with intensity. “Josh.”

He kept his eyes lowered on the table, refusing to look up. His closed-off behavior didn’t deter Brock at all.

“We need to know where you got those drugs.”

“I told you.” Josh snapped up to meet Brock’s gaze, fire blazing in his eyes. “I found them outside a building.”

Brock’s palm met the table with a jarring noise that nearly startled Olivia. “What building?” Brock demanded, all the fight blazing right back in his eyes. “Is it here local?”

Josh broke off eye contact with Brock, choosing instead to look at the table. And shrugged.

Olivia didn’t have time for this! Nor did she feel like putting up a fight. After seeing his shut-down behavior in regard to Brock’s demands, she entertained the idea of the quieter approach. One that sparked an idea when she laid eyes upon his moon and star tattoo snaking around his neck.

She scooted the chair out, the sound slamming into the isolated walls of the interrogation room, and seated herself across from the one who could possibly give them any answers at this point. She lowered her voice to an almost motherly tone, wondering if she could break through to the kid that way. “Josh?”

“What?”

“I know you’re into astrology.” She had long abandoned the idea of a cult, but she attacked this angle nonetheless. “Your stars are out of alignment with all of this anger and shouting.”

The phrase caught the kid’s attention and he slowly raised his eyes from the table to meet hers. She had his attention. She gave him a soft smile, attempting to soothe her voice even further. Something zen. Maybe she wasn’t very good at it, but she could put on a show. “I know you’re angry, but isn’t it more mindful and centered to simply recognize that emotion rather than let it control you?”

“What are you, my yogi?” Well, that was better. A little bit of the bass was out of his tone, though not the sarcasm. She was at least getting somewhere and she wouldn’t stop until she broke through to him.

“No, see, that’s where none of this is going to work out.” Olivia leaned back, taking in a deep breath that emphasized the rise and fall of her chest. “Doesn’t your spiritual practice teach you to respond with compassion, rather than aggression? I know you’re angry. We’re angry, too. But I’m calm. You can see I’m calm. So if you really want your stars to be in alignment, and you know what I mean, you might as well start acting like it.”

She hurled an accusation at him. She believed in kooky astrology stuff about as much as she believed that Alasdair was a good guy, but she played to his side. And it worked. Josh’s shoulders and chest rose, then fell again with a sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was calm.

“Why do you want to know?”

Brock took a seat beside Olivia and threw one stunned look at her before looking back at Josh. She could almost read what he was thinking: Way to go, Olivia. She kept going, keeping her voice controlled, though she wanted to raise it with the intensity that pounded inside of her. Everyone was calm. Great. Susanna was still missing.

She realized that the chances of Josh being involved were slim to none, having been in custody during the time of her disappearance. Whether or not he was involved somehow with the other kidnappings or disappearances, surely he knew Susanna and what a wonderful girl she was. Olivia started again. “Susanna Webster is missing.”

The calm began to dissipate as his eyebrows raised. He sat back, clearly trying to keep himself composed, and folded his hands, a pile of fingers on the table. “Susanna?”

“Yeah.” Brock had cooled off enough to calm his own voice down.

“She went missing this morning,” Olivia informed him. She noted how his behavior was nothing short of shocked, but the kind of shock that came with expectation. She couldn’t make sense of it, so she kept talking. “Josh, if you know something about it, please. You’ve got to tell us.”

All the fight leaked from his eyes. His gaze dropped to his folded hands as his right thumb stroked his left. Pondering, he sounded defeated and half-whispered. “Susanna?”

Her name wasn’t spoken in love, but rather, respect. Everyone probably loved Susanna, romantic interest or not.

“Yes.” Brock pressed. “Now do you happen to remember where you got those drugs? This is important. It could help us locate her.”

If there was a clock in the room, the ticking would have driven Olivia insane. It was as if she was hyper-aware of every second being dragged out to an hour in the time it took Josh to fully process if he wanted to come clean or not. Olivia shot a look at Brock, raising her eyebrows and warning him to remain as calm as she did. If he dared to flare his temper again or show any aggression with the kid, the progress they’d made with him might shatter.

Finally, he worked up the courage to let go of whatever was keeping him back and his voice came through clenched lips, a murmur. “The warehouse.”

Finally! An answer. Olivia fought the urge to shout for joy. “What warehouse?”

Josh never made eye contact, but his behavior told her he wasn’t lying. In fact, it was almost like he was unleashing a burden from his shoulders, something he’d wanted to say but couldn’t for whatever reason. “There’s this warehouse, farther inland. It’s just barely outside city limits. It’s one of those eight-to-five deals where the employees split the second it hits quitting time. No one is ever around after six, no one, so it’s a spot where a lot of kids go besides Breakers. Only for more of an edgy kind of fun than what Breakers has.”

“I gather that,” Olivia said out loud. Nothing good could possibly happen at a place like that after hours with a group of teens.

“Me and some of the guys were hanging out there one time. We weren’t doing anything really wrong, no graffiti or anything, just... well, maybe share a couple drinks.”

Nothing really wrong. Sure. A reason not to tell them where they found the drugs, lest they get in trouble for underage drinking. Which was a lot less than any kidnapping charge, which he seemed to understand now. “Go on.”

“This was on Sunday night, around sunset. Last week, obviously. None of us were ready to go back to school, so we were having kind of a pre-weekly party. We didn’t want to get caught by being out too late, so we started back around seven-thirty. We were going to go get some food at Breakers to sober up, you know? Mila never asks questions.”

Of course she didn’t. And that’s why six underage kids were “helped” to a better life. Olivia nodded. “Go on.” He was telling his story like a novel, but if it helped them find Susanna and understand more details, she’d take what she could get.

“You know how it is when you’ve been drinking.” A small laugh burst from his lips. “Heh. You gotta look down, watch where you’re going.”

“Yeah, the world gets kinda funny, doesn’t it?” Brock related. “It feels a little unstable.”

“Yeah.” Josh sniffed, finally unclasping his hands to run a finger under his nose. “Well, I was looking down, watching where I was going. and I saw the packet lying there. There were some tire tracks in the gravel outside of the warehouse, there’s kind of a back alley road that leads to the back and it hasn’t been paved yet. That’s where the tire tracks were, and the packet was in the tracks. Looked like it fell from a car or something. I picked it up and it was pretty obvious what it was.” He chortled another laugh and looked up at Brock with eyes heavy with confession. “Like you said. ‘This isn’t powdered sugar,’ huh?”

Brock nodded, his face grave. “Right.”

“But the place, it was creepy, man.” Josh’s gaze gained a far-off look, as if he were reliving some haunted memory or something that goaded him like a thorn stuck in his sneaker. “The same day that I found the drugs in the tire track, there was some yelling going on inside the building.”

Well, that took a different turn. Olivia felt herself perk up, latching onto that. “Yelling?”

“Yeah, yelling.” Josh shook his head. “There was a girl screaming or something. I didn’t know what it was, but it scared me and my buddies, so we ran away.”

Brock’s fingers closed into a fist and Olivia could tell how he fought to keep himself in control as he asked, “Why didn’t you come forward with this information? If someone was screaming for help, they could have gotten help!”

Whoever it was, it was too late now. Sunday night, he’d said. If it was a girl screaming, was it possible that girl was Ellie? Between sunset and seven o’clock would have been the time she disappeared. If only one kid had come forward, this whole thing could have been stopped.

“I was scared.” For the first time, the cocky, confident young man that Olivia had come to know and dislike fell away into a teenager who didn’t know his place in the world. “I didn’t want to get discovered with the drugs or explain what I was doing out there.”

Olivia could pursue it. But there was one more pressing matter. She met Brock’s gaze and directed her attention to Brock. “Which warehouse was it?”

Josh sighed. “It said Crosby Inc on the side or something.”

Crosby. Of course. Olivia stood to her feet, scraping her chair back. Brock followed her. That was all they needed to hear. “Thank you, Josh.”

Considering that everyone in town knew Alasdair Crosby or knew of his shipping company, it wasn’t hard to find his warehouse at all. Olivia caught the sheriff on their way out of the sheriff’s office.

“Hey, Carter.” She paused long enough to fill him in. “We’re headed over there to check it out.”

“I’ll gather some backup,” he said, and was off like a bullet somewhere else in the building.

Olivia pushed her way outside, followed by Brock and made a beeline for her car. “I hope she’s still there.” Her desperate voice was barely a whisper.

What felt like an eternity later, Brock pulled the car into the parking lot of the warehouse. Sure enough, just like Josh had said, there was a dirt road that led to the back. Followed by the host of backup provided by Carter, Brock threw the car into park and jumped out at the same time that Olivia did. She threw a glance at the clock that read six forty-five, groaning inwardly at the time. How long had it been since Susanna was taken? The chance of her still being here was unlikely, but still, they had to try.

Olivia started for the door, but a rustling near the bushes out back by the dirt road magnetized her gaze to where a person took off running, relying on the darkness to shield her. She wasn’t clever enough to stay out of the streetlights lining the warehouse and Olivia caught a full glimpse of her face as she looked back at the gathering crowd.

“That’s Alana Fleming!” Olivia jolted.

Alana bolted a full-blown sprint out of sight.

“Don’t let her get away!” Olivia ran after her, quickly picking up her trail and hurrying around the other side of the warehouse. The lights did a good job of lighting her path and she assured herself that Brock was right behind her through his hurried footsteps that squished into the soggy ground behind hers. All those hours of running on the sand certainly paid off at this moment, especially since the ground was drunk with the rain that had soaked it an hour earlier.

Alana didn’t stop. With the ease and athleticism of an Olympian runner, she practically glided away from them. Olivia prided herself on keeping her body fit, using it for moments like this. All her senses narrowed in on chasing the teacher from the warehouse.

When Alana reached the end of the warehouse, she banked right and tore through the brush, where it seemed like a small trail had split the bushes that shrouded the back of the warehouse.

“She went right!” Olivia called to Brock, trusting that he saw her, too. She hurried her pace, ready for anything. She half expected Alana to be hiding out on the other side of the brush with a weapon ready to take her down, but she quickly caught sight of her hurrying left. She burst from the bushes, feeling a few small cuts slashing at her arms from the branches and didn’t give up. Alana was still several paces ahead and threw a look behind her now and again, but kept going.

The teacher obviously cared nothing for trespassing as she climbed one of the chain link fences that surrounded someone’s backyard and sailed over it with ease. Olivia was on it in seconds, feeling the cool of the metal against the palm of her hand and the tiny chain links digging into her palm as she used her hand to balance and hoisted herself up. It took her toes several digs to climb up the fence, especially considering how the moisture from earlier made it slippery, but she found her footing and sailed over it. The porch light flipped on and a Doberman snarled and barked from inside.

“FBI, freeze!” she yelled, both as a way to desperately try to get Alana to slow down, but also to let the owners know that she wasn’t just some random trespasser. It seemed to work. No one poked their heads out of the door, but she did see a face peering out of the corner of a shaded window before she jumped to the other side of the fence.

Alana didn’t slow down for any of the obstacles in her way. Her evasive tactics were nothing short of annoying as she tipped over a trash can for Olivia to jump over here, darted behind another grove of trees there. It was the grove of trees that got Olivia and she had to pause to look around before she spotted her on the other side, running through someone else’s backyard.

“FBI!” She yelled again, removing all excuse for the woman to say she’d never heard her. Alana plowed through the front yards of the residential houses that didn’t have a fence to keep unwanted guests out of their yards and kept running full speed ahead. Olivia panted to even out her breathing, focused only on the retreating teacher. If she wasn’t guilty of something, she wouldn’t be running.

Alana took a turn when she bolted across the street, resulting in several angry honks from the driver she ran out in front of. Olivia wasted no time plunging in after her, holding up her hand to apologize to the driver who waited for her like it was a crosswalk. Trusting Brock could hold his own across the road, she only cast a look behind her to see he’d done just that, and he was closer than she’d thought he was.

“Right behind you,” came his hurried assurance.

And they were right behind Alana. She led them on a merry chase through more back alleys until they spilled onto the narrow sidewalks that snaked through the historic downtown. Alana carved her way through the street that led between one large, towering brick building to her left and a white one with red gables and what looked like a bell tower to her right. “Hey!” and “Watch it!” followed after her as she danced around the people coming out of the buildings. She had to move in a little do-si-do around a few of them, nearly hitting them as she regained her footing and continued her sprint.

“Don’t let her out of our sight!” If only she’d stop running. How much energy did she have left after running this far? When Olivia zipped around the corner after her, there was another tipped-over trash can there to greet her. Her foot collided with it and she stumbled a bit, losing her balance but finding it just before she hit the pavement. “Watch out!”

“Are you all right?” Brock slowed, but Olivia waved him off. “Don’t worry, go after Alana!”

He wasted no time, breaking into a sprint as if seeing Olivia almost go down renewed his adrenaline. All around, people stopped to stare as he quickly regained the ground he’d lost. When Alana plowed into a man who had desperately tried to dodge her, she, too, lost her footing. She tumbled to the ground and Brock was on her in seconds. “FBI, hands where I can see them!”

Alana huffed a sigh and raised her hands. “Okay, okay, whatever.” She kept her eyes lowered to the sidewalk as Brock reached for her.

“Where’s Alasdair?” Brock demanded.

Olivia caught up with Alana and Brock, just in time to see a smug smile take over the woman’s face. The pit in Olivia’s stomach grew at the thought that she was proud of what she’d done! “You’ll never know.” Her head rocked from side to side. “You’re too late.”

Brock took her arms, hauling her up to her feet to face him. Alana didn’t make a move to try to run, knowing she’d been apprehended. “Where?” Brock thundered.

“Just tell us where Alasdair is,” Olivia tried, knowing that trying to extract the information from her would be worse than getting Josh to talk. Especially if she was in on it.

“You’re too late, I said!” Gone was the confident teacher and replaced with the cocky sidekick. It was clear that she thought of her little pairing with Alasdair as Bonnie and Clyde, and Alana was proud to be considered his partner in crime. Well, one of many, that is. Olivia wondered if she knew about Mila. “Alasdair is long gone. You will never see him or the girl again.”

“You’re under arrest,” Brock responded, done with her antics. Olivia huffed a sigh, trying to regain her breathing and cast a look around the area as if she expected Susanna to walk out of any one of these stores. Where could she be? Alana had led them on a wild goose chase, meanwhile, Alasdair was getting away with Susanna. They had to retrace their steps back to the warehouse.

The warehouse was wide open and filled with floodlights by the time Olivia and Brock were able to return. With Alana finally in custody, they had one suspect down, but the realization clawed at Olivia that there was a chance that Alana was right..: they’d never see Alasdair or Susanna again. Upon their arrival at the warehouse, they were approached by Sheriff Carter, whose face carried the distress of witnessing something deeply disturbing.

“You guys are going to want to see this.” His low voice betrayed how grave the situation was.

Olivia and Brock exchanged a look, each bracing themselves for what they were about to see. They fell into step behind Carter, who led them around the back of the warehouse where the dirt road traveled.

“We followed the trail of where that kid, Josh, said he found the drugs.” He sighed. “There was a hidden room back there that no one knew about. Everyone always thought it was a spare door that no one used because of how old it was. The spare door was boarded up on both sides, so the only way to get in and out was through this door.” He gestured to the outside door. “Padlocked and chained. No one thought to question the padlock and chain, thinking that it was just an empty room that no one needed.”

“But it’s not,” Olivia finished for him.

“Right.”

The door he spoke of was caked with brown around the edges, and screeched a terrible groan when it opened. An odd scent of body odor mixed with some kind of chemical-filled air. Olivia stepped in, reaching for Brock’s hand, and a quick squeeze of his in return assured her that he was behind her. She let him go just as Carter hit the lights. Olivia froze at the sight. How could this be, right under the nose of the small, seemingly innocent town of Cape Fremont?

In a room slightly bigger than an office were rows and rows of beds, white sheets tousled, none of them made. Gray bars made up the headrests, and attached to each were a hanging pair of handcuffs. That wasn’t all. Between the beds were IV tubes, and scattered all over the floor were needles that could only be used for one thing. All of the beds were empty, and the sheets lying strewn across the floor and the scattered needles told Olivia that Josh really had accidentally stumbled across something he wasn’t supposed to. Someone had left in a hurry and left a scattered mess of DNA and drug paraphernalia behind.

Olivia walked up to the bed closest to the door, placing her hand on the pillow. Damp, to the touch. With sweat, maybe?

“She warned him,” she murmured to Brock before turning to set a gaze ablaze with rage on him. “Alana. She warned him that we were onto him, and he got the teens out.”

Brock sighed as he shook his head. Even with the things they saw, cases like this never ceased to strike them both with horror at the thought of what one human being would do to another. Kids. Sweet girls like Susanna. “We searched every inch of that ship. Even looked in the containers. Nothing. Where else would they be?”

“Maybe we crossed paths with them.” Olivia hated the hope in her own voice, even though she clung to it. They couldn’t be too late. They couldn’t be. They were so close. “Or maybe they were moved somewhere else? Another location, perhaps?”

“We can only start looking.” Brock wasn’t giving up hope and started to move out of the room where the captives were obviously kept as slaves. “In the meantime, let’s put out an APB on the red sports car Alasdair drives. It’s a pretty obvious-looking vehicle, so we might get lucky.”

“It’s made to draw the eye.” Olivia agreed, trailing Brock out of the room. Brock was already digging his phone out and making the call. “I’ll take the perimeter.” Maybe she could find some useful tire tracks, maybe some blood drops, maybe a camera? Right. Like Alasdair would be that stupid.

Brock hung up, having put out the BOLO for the red sports car as well as any other car Alasdair owned, and joined her in her search. Olivia spotted all she needed for evidence right away as her eyes caught on a bright color that wasn’t supposed to be there. The warehouse was a dull tan color, and the side that faced this back alley and forestry beyond hadn’t been power washed in decades. So the bright pink and yellow swirl, set against a dark blue, caught her attention right away. Tossed into one of the bushes, the colors screamed “out of place.” Olivia was drawn toward the bright colors, but once she cleared the bushes enough to see, she stopped where she was. “Brock... come here and take a look at this.”

Brock rustled to her side to join her, stopping short at the scene just as Olivia had. The bright blue, pink, and yellow colors were part of a surfboard. Not just any surfboard. The same one that they had seen Susanna clutch under her arm at her side, time and time again. It was discarded, thrown to the side like common trash. Worse than that.

It was broken.

Olivia and Brock continued to search the rest of the perimeter, having logged Susanna’s busted surfboard for evidence. As she searched in relative quiet, Olivia let her questions occupy her wordless search. What happened here? Did Susanna fight back when she realized that she’d been taken to a warehouse instead of the airport? Was there a struggle, breaking her surfboard in the process? Or had Alasdair broken it to assert himself as her new alpha? Whatever had happened, Olivia hated that he’d done it, and hated even more that he’d felt like Susanna needed to be taken. Olivia was always thorough, but her need for justice drove her to do an even more thorough search of the area.

Brock’s ringing phone took him away from helping her examine the bushes as he answered it in a hushed tone. “Hello?” He paused for a few moments. “Where did you say?” Another pause, then a hurried bit of thanks as he hung up. “Olivia! We’ve got something.”

Olivia straightened, snapping to complete attention.

“Alasdair’s sports car was spotted parked in front of the U-Haul rental facility earlier today.”

Earlier today? How much earlier? Olivia moved in closer to Brock, her eyes wide as she listened to the information. “Okay?”

“The guy rented a small U-Haul, and I guess he had someone driving his car out of the lot with him. They stopped by around four-thirty.”

“So…” Olivia stared at the ground while she let the information impart itself to her. “We’re possibly looking for a U-Haul truck.”

“The manager of the U-Haul store was very helpful.” Brock went on. “He gave a description that matched Alasdair’s exactly, and the U-Haul was one with a lily on the side of it. We may not be that far off! He would have had to come here and load everyone up, along with whatever else he was cooking up in this place. That would have probably taken an hour at most. Which means…”

Olivia could have kissed him at that moment. The only thing restraining her was the time limit they were now on. “There’s still time to catch him.”

She and Brock started toward the car at the same time. Olivia called out to the sheriff a few sentences on what they were doing before she launched herself into her driver’s seat. They left the scene in Carter’s team’s capable hands as Olivia roared the car’s engine to life.

“Has anyone spotted the U-Haul?” Olivia had barely clicked her seat belt into place by the time she started rattling off questions.

“I’ll find out.” Brock buckled in within seconds and his phone was in his hands.

Olivia steered the car out of the parking lot, not really sure which way to point it. Her gut told her to head to Charleston where Alasdair’s shipping company was, so that’s where she started. Charleston. She only hoped he hadn’t taken them somewhere else to throw them off the trail, knowing the FBI and the local police were here.

“We may have just missed them, but it’s worth a try.” She pressed the gas pedal to the floor, her engine roaring down the quiet streets and finding its way back to the freeway. “We may need to get the Coast Guard involved with this.”

“I’ll send it out for backup.” Brock held the phone up to his ear. Olivia let him make the necessary calls while she focused on the road. There was something else nagging at her, too. Who was the other driver with Alasdair? He’d driven to the U-Haul rental facility, but someone had to drive the car away while someone else drove the U-Haul. Alana, probably. But then again, where was Alasdair’s car now? It hadn’t been recovered at the scene. Olivia had torn the perimeter apart, but there was no sign of a red sports car anywhere around the building, and their BOLO hadn’t turned up anything.

Brock snapped his phone back down to his knee, turning against his seat belt to face Olivia. “Got in touch with the Coast Guard for backup. They said they saw the very U-Haul we’re after pulling into the docks. It might still be there.”

“Good.” Olivia pressed the gas harder. “It better be.”

Darkness shrouded the docks where they had found themselves hours before. The rain had stilled to nothing, but humidity still coated the air in a thick boil of warm, moist air. The moisture swished under Olivia’s tires as she pulled her car up to the docks, using her windshield wipers to clear away the stray droplets from the road and give her a good view of the area. The lights from the other headlamps and guard shack reflected off the puddles on the ground, making for a blinding light that smeared out the images. Visibility was unclear, but Olivia took her time, not wanting to miss anything. Was the U-Haul still there?

Brock’s eyes went straight to the inconspicuous area where the light wasn’t so bright. “That’s the U-Haul right there.”

Olivia’s fingers found the button for her window and she rolled it down, clearing the cluttered view from the window and getting a fresh burst of humid air. Sure enough, Brock’s eyes weren’t deceiving him. The familiar orange-striped box attached to the same color chassis was parked in a corner that was cluttered with other containers. She couldn’t help but notice the container ship was still there, but maybe with a few more containers than when they’d searched it earlier. The container ship wasn’t that large, as it hadn’t taken forever to search it, so any container that was added later stood out to her. She didn’t remember that bright orange one from her previous trip to search the area with Brock. Interesting. She made a note to check it out, but first things first. That same ship looked like it was about to leave this harbor behind.

“We can’t let them leave.” Olivia scrambled from the car, drawing her weapon. Brock mirrored her motions, barely kicking the door closed behind him and not fully latching it. Olivia’s feet squished on the soggy sidewalk as she ran toward the cargo ship. She didn’t throw caution to the wind but looked around her surroundings, not wanting a surprise visitor to jump out and attack them. Thank goodness the ship hadn’t left yet, so Olivia made her way up the ramp and onto the deck one more time.

“We gotta find the captain and keep this thing from taking off!” she called.

Suddenly, from somewhere behind the boxes of cargo stacked on top of one another, three men shrouded in black and their faces covered jumped out, aiming their guns right at them.

“Look out!” Brock shouted above the firing of his round and Olivia squeezed her trigger. Only one man responded to Brock’s bullet, arching backward and falling to the deck of the ship, lifeless. The others let out a spray of bullets that splintered the railing behind them and punctured the cargo. Olivia’s heart leaped into her throat. If there were any kidnapped teens on this ship, the walls of the cargo containers were not enough to protect them. They could be shot before they even had a chance to be rescued.

Thinking quickly, Olivia shot behind one of the larger containers that she knew contained medical supplies. She’d searched it earlier herself. She dropped to a proposal position, balancing on one leg and kneeling on one knee. Brock sprang behind the wall that led to where the captain would oversee the shipment and leaned around the wall to return fire. Olivia aimed her sights carefully, squeezing the trigger as she held her breath and fired off another round that made her eardrums cower under the bang. Her bullet hit its mark and one of the gunmen went down with a yell, letting out one final spray of wayward bullets that speckled the deck of the ship with brass.

“One down!” Olivia yelled over to Brock, who divided his time by leaning around the wall to fire before ducking back to cover again. “I can’t get a clear shot!”

More footsteps pounded onto the deck, no doubt belonging to Alasdair’s backup. Why else would they be shooting at them? Olivia carefully peered around the corner of the container before crouching alongside it. She got to the other side and leaned around. The first of the remaining gunmen was so intent on firing at Brock that he didn’t notice that Olivia had moved positions. Much to her advantage. All it took was one round and he was down, writhing on the deck as blood oozed from his leg. One more shot silenced him.

Brock sprang from his hiding place, firing at the new arrivals as he went from behind the wall to the container where Olivia was. The spray of bullets followed him, carving tiny rings through the top of the container but no doubt getting stuck in the medical equipment inside.

“There’s three.” Brock crawled beside her, his presence making her feel well protected even amidst the rounds aimed at her and Brock.

“Three more?” Olivia nodded. “We can get past that.”

“I’ll cover you.” Brock nodded to the other container, another one they’d searched earlier to discover it had nothing but more medical supplies. “See if you can get to the other side and take them out just like you did.”

Olivia gave him a single nod. Before leaving, however, she threw a quick kiss on his lips before waiting for him to open fire on the new gunmen. Her legs sprang up, knees unbending as her crouched legs propelled her to the other container. Brock drew their fire toward him, worrying Olivia with the target on his head. He didn’t need to cover her for long. The upper deck ended, and Olivia jumped over the holding space between the two decks, landing arm over arm. She rolled onto the top of one container nestled into the holding space. She laid on her stomach like a sniper, relying on the upper deck to act as a barricade against the bullets, and took out one more while Brock ended two. Once the firing of bullets was finally quiet, she dared poke her head up onto the deck. “Clear!” She took a moment to reload, then scrambled back to her feet. Brock emerged out from behind the container.

She met up with Brock toward the middle of the deck, keeping her weapon up and ready to go if another threat arose. It didn’t take long for Brock to suddenly step in front of her. Body-slamming her out of the way, he yelled toward the back of their protective container: “Watch out!”

She stumbled to the side, regaining her balance just as another round splintered the walls behind where she had been standing. She cast a quick look up at Brock, gratefulness dancing across her face for a moment. “Thanks.”

Another group of guys moved in to replace the ones they’d worked so hard to eliminate. Olivia thought how they seemed to multiply, along with all of their problems. There was no way they were getting to the captain of that ship.

“Where is our backup?!” Brock demanded, looking behind just as Olivia felt the ship jolt from underneath them. The deck moved, shuddered, and the ship groaned as it started to pull away from the harbor.

“No!” Olivia lifted her weapon but five guys soon turned to twenty, then thirty. Twenty approaching from the front, ten approaching from the back. They circled around Olivia and Brock, closing in on them.

“Drop your weapons.” The one who appeared to be the leader of the group held a steady hand as he pointed the weapon at them. His gruff voice left no room for argument.

Olivia bent at the waist, not wanting to drop the weapon onto the deck and risk it going off. She ground her teeth at the need to surrender and let these guys have the satisfaction of winning, but thirty weapons against two? It was better to survive. Their backup, wherever it was, would get to them soon enough.

She and Brock stood back up, hands shoulder-height and spread out in surrender. The ten guys from the back closed in on them. “Move it.”

Brock side-eyed Olivia as they moved toward the twenty guys who scattered, leaving a small group to lead them around the other side of the ship. “It’s going to be okay.” He mouthed.

Olivia nodded.

“No talking! Just move!” One of the guys jammed the rifle into Brock’s back and Olivia shot him a glare. “Hey! We’re going, okay?”

“Not fast enough.” The man grumbled. “No talking.”

There wasn’t time to retort as they came around to the other side of the stack of containers, surrounded by the guys. There at the railing of the deck, with his back to them in that perfectly polished leather jacket of his, Alasdair Crosby looked out over the waves going by.

Brock’s eyes narrowed into anger and Olivia gritted her teeth.

“Well, well.” Wearing a cocky smirk and superior attitude, Alasdair turned to face Olivia and Brock. She wanted to kick that smirk right off of his face. “This is what happens when you don’t wait for backup.”

The guys surrounding them chuckled. Olivia cast a look at Brock, not bothering to conceal her anger. They didn’t have time to wait for backup. If they’d waited, the ship would have left the port. It already was moving out at twice the regular speed. At least now, they had a chance of busting Alasdair and finding the teens he had in his captivity. That is if they lived through the sea of gunmen that pressed in on them.

Alasdair wanted to taunt them a bit before killing them. Like a cat torturing a mouse before the inevitable death blow. Olivia didn’t mind it when their villain counterparts did that. It gave her and Brock time to come up with an escape plan. She chose not to say anything, but of course, Brock did nothing of the sort.

“This is what happens when you don’t follow the law. You’re busted, Crosby. The Coast Guard and local police know exactly who you are.”

“I’m sure they do.” Alasdair began to casually pace along the railing, looking out over the waves and the cluttered port going by as if this was some kind of cruise. To him, it probably was. “To be honest, I’m surprised you made it here in time.”

He grinned again, abandoning his little stroll along the rail and strode toward them. The smug expression only grew. Olivia tightened a fist at her side and dared a glance around. There were too many people. She’d probably have to talk her way out of this one. Or find a way to get to that railing, but that would involve leaping overboard. She wasn’t interested in that. She had to stay on board and not jump into deeper water like she and Brock seemed to have done with this situation.

“All this time,” Alasdair laced his fingers together behind his back and paced in front of them, volleying his expression between Olivia and Brock. “All this time and I was right under your nose, and you never bothered to see me.” He turned his back to them, looking toward the waters, again. He moved his hands in front of him and Olivia strained to see what he was doing.

“We figured it out soon enough,” Brock bit out. His tone took on a darker hue, rooted in the anger he felt over the business Alasdair conducted. “What you’ve been doing to these kids, it’s wrong. You’re not going to get away with it.”

Alasdair sneered, casual laughter telling Olivia that he had no intention of letting Brock’s threats intimidate him. “Well, unfortunately,” He pivoted on his heel and Olivia’s eyes widened at the gun in his hands, pointed right at them both. Oh, yeah. They were in a pickle this time. “You’re not going to live to tell the story of what happened.”

“You don’t want to do this,” Olivia warned, grasping at straws and wishing she had her weapon with her. “We have backup, people in high places who know exactly where we are.”

“Be that as it may,” Alasdair shrugged again. “I’ll be long out of the country by the time your ‘help’ discovers that you’re gone.” He made air quotes with his free hand at the word help. “I knew better than to stick around, once Alana told me that you had figured it out. It’s disappointing, really.” He dragged the ending out for longer than it needed to be. “We had a great operation going.”

“A great operation that lures underage kids to their doom,” Olivia rumbled. “Nothing about that is right.”

“It’s good business.” Alasdair shrugged. “I don’t ask questions. I just bring them to the warehouse and ship them out when needed. Nothing personal about it.”

“It’s not about being personal!” Olivia cried. “It’s about being moral!”

“Morality doesn’t pay well.” He raised the gun, his voice rumbling in rage. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

The gun in his hand, along with his arm, his body, the men surrounding him suddenly lit up from a light that was not from the ship. A spotlight, maybe from a helicopter? No, Olivia didn’t hear anything over the churning of the waters or the engine. Was that another engine? Hope reignited in her heart as a voice magnified tenfold by a megaphone crackled through the night air.

“This is the United States Coast Guard! We have you completely surrounded. Stop the ship and put your weapons down!”

“About time you guys showed up,” Brock muttered before he lunged for the guy next to him. He clutched the man’s shirt with clawed fingers. Using the element of surprise, he brought his face down to meet his upturned knee, resulting in a groan of pain from the unfortunate man. Olivia jumped into action herself, not wasting this precious moment. Using the same tactic that Brock did, she twisted his wrist and the gun clattered to the deck of the ship, after an agonized groan from the gunman.

Alasdair’s gun went off, but Brock jumped out of the way and Olivia ducked, leaving the bullet nowhere to go but toward the Coast Guard who were commanding the ship to a stop. She felt the ship still beneath her, rising up and down with the waves but slowing its pace. She clutched the gun she’d disarmed and swung it around, pointing it at Alasdair. “Drop your weapon!”

He fired again, but a quick returned round from Olivia drew blood from his right arm. He uttered a cry of pain as the gun went flying from his hand. His free hand clapped over the wound, blood oozing through his fingertips.

Somehow, between all of this, the ship shuddered to a stop and the Coast Guard began to storm the deck of the ship. Amid the shouts and commands for weapons to be dropped and hands in the air, the commander found his way over to Olivia and Brock.

“Hey. You guys okay?”

Olivia shook from the adrenaline rush of being shot at, even though she was used to it by now. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“We have reason to suspect that there are trafficking victims on board.” Brock hurriedly explained.

“I’ll pass this along.” The captain turned around and waved to get his subordinates’ attention, as he called to them.

Olivia would tear this ship apart, board by board if she had to. She afforded a quick glance over in Alasdair’s direction as his hands were drawn behind his back, twisted into the handcuffs. The other guys he had in his employ were lined up next to him. Alasdair carried a look of utter defeat that never left the deck, save only to side-glance at the Coast Guard agents arresting him.

Well, that was taken care of. Time to find Susanna.

Olivia launched across the deck toward the unit that she had been using as her shield from earlier. Her heart was in her throat at the thought of being so close to Susanna, only to have her take a bullet from the earlier gunfight. “Susanna?” She threw the container open, relieved to find nothing but floor-to-roof carefully packaged medical supplies. The bandages had stopped the bullets in their tracks, thus saving her and Brock’s lives.

“She’s not in this one.” Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Brock fell into line beside her as she chose another container, the bright orange one she’d seen earlier. This one had a lock and chain on it. Hope rose within her heart and she yelled, again.

“Susanna!”

No answer. Her name bounced back off of the surface of the container into her own ears. She was not, simply not giving up. The silence didn’t mean she wasn’t in there.

“We need some bolt cutters over here!” Brock called out to anyone who would listen. In a few moments, someone appeared next to him with the requested item. Olivia could hardly stand still as the agent opened the cutters, set the master lock between them and pushed the ends of the bolt cutters together. With a snap, the lock fell away. Brock reached forward, slipping the chain through the handles of the container. Olivia took one door while Brock pulled on the other side and the doors swung open.

For what felt like an eternity, the doors cracked open, revealing two teenage girls hidden inside. When the door cracked, they both looked up at Olivia and Brock with faces drenched with sheer terror, dread, and a mixture of emotions that should never be seen on the faces of ones so young. Olivia could have cried with relief. One of the teens was Susanna.

The relief on her face mixed with confusion and maybe a hint of betrayal. “Olivia? Brock?”

Olivia stepped into the container, Brock close behind her. “Susanna, we’re with the FBI.” She dispelled all doubts that they were involved with Alasdair. “We’re here to rescue you.”

Susanna sniffed. Her hands crawled up the wall as she stood on wobbly legs to her feet. Her red-rimmed eyes and tiny pupils indicated that she was on something, as did the bleeding pinprick in her right arm. “You’re here to rescue us?” Her words slurred together but they made sense.

Brock nodded, calming his voice down as he spoke. “It’s okay, Susanna. You’re safe now.”

With the last bit of her remaining effort, Susanna launched herself into Olivia’s arms. “Oh, gosh.” She cried as sobs made their way up her throat and shook her entire body. Brock closed in, laying an arm over her shoulders as Olivia gently stroked her. She held the sobbing teenager and murmured to her.

“It’s okay. We’ve got you, now. You’re safe.”

Behind Susanna, the other girl worked her way to her feet with less motivation than Susanna had. Her skin stretched over her collar and cheekbones and her eyes looked sunken in, but bagged with fatigue.

Brock released Susanna’s shoulders and looked toward the girl. “Ellie Cline?” he asked, hopefully.

She nodded.

They’d done it. They’d found two of the missing teens and cut the whole operation of selling them as human slaves in half. Olivia whispered this same assurance into Susanna’s ear as she continued to cry.

“I thought it was all over for me. I thought… I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid.” Olivia paused only to call over her shoulder. “We need a medic in here, ASAP!” She returned her attention to Susanna. “It’s over, now, it’s all over. He can never get to you again.”

It took a day or two for the dust to settle. The whole town of Cape Fremont was abuzz with the news that a handful of locals were taken down for human trafficking. It wasn’t the kind of closure that Olivia had wanted to bring to the parents of the twenty teens who were still missing, but it was her hope that they could somehow track them down through Alasdair. But that was later. One thing at a time, for now.

She and Brock strode through the doors of the hospital wing where Susanna was being kept. “Doesn’t this feel good?” She asked him. “We have Alasdair and Alana in custody, Mila’s being investigated and no more teens are going to come up missing at his hand.”

“And our favorite girl is safe.” He smiled as he gently rapped on Susanna’s door.

A nurse poked her head out, smiling at the sight of them. “Oh. Come in.” She swung the door open.

Susanna’s hospital room wasn’t anything special, but it had been spruced up with greeting cards and flowers from her fellow classmates, as was Ellie’s room, down the hall. Ellie had been on the heroin for longer than Susanna had and would probably have to enter into some kind of rehab for it. How sad it was that she had to take some time to overcome an addiction she had never intended to be a part of. Susanna seemed to be coming back as well as could be expected, considering the trauma she had endured.

She lay, propped up by her hospital bed. Her eyes didn’t dance like they usually did, but the smile that did light up her face was somehow deeper, gratitude shining through the clouds of her features. “Hey, Olivia, Brock!”

“Hey.” Olivia greeted her at the same time that Brock did. They stood by her bedside and smiled down at her with kindness. “How are you feeling?” A stupid question, considering the circumstances, but she had to ask.

“Better, now, because of you.” Her smile saddened. “Dad and Mom are both being investigated for neglect, among other things. I came clean about everything and social services or something was in here, earlier, talking to me.”

Susanna didn’t want to bother with being known as “that girl,” but Olivia reminded herself that the relief over knowing she wouldn’t be left with her abusive parents overshadowed that. Susanna had overcome obstacles far greater than most kids her age would have to.

“I thought I was done for.” Susanna’s expression turned haunted, her voice lagging behind. Maybe a result of the medicine, fighting the effects of the heroin but Olivia had no trouble understanding. “I couldn’t fight back.”

“You’ve never tried drugs before, have you?” Brock said it as more of a statement.

Susanna shook her head. “No.” She sighed, leaning her head against the pillow. “So, you guys are FBI, huh?”

Olivia nodded. “We are.”

“All along.” A smile breathed a laugh through her nose. “I should have known. No couple on their honeymoon is as interested in local teenagers as you were.”

“Well, you’d be the exception to that rule even if we were on our honeymoon.” Brock smiled at her. “You’re incredible, Susanna.”

“Aw, I’m really not all that much.”

Olivia wasn’t going to stand for that kind of talk. “Yes. You are.”

Susanna lifted her head from the pillow, letting her gaze linger on her fingers. “So, you probably need a statement from me, huh?”

“We can wait if you want to…”

“No.” This time, she shook her head with firmness. “No. I want to get it over with.” She sighed. “That way I don’t have to talk about it again.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “I left with Alasdair early in the morning. He and Mila had been talking to me for a time. Mila introduced us and Alasdair grew interested in my story pretty quickly. He said he was going to take me to Hawaii to the surfing competition.” Tears stung her eyes. “Come to find out, he made it all up. There was no surfing competition. He said to keep it quiet, though, because he didn’t want my family finding out. That should’ve been my first clue. He said he was going to try to get me into a better life. He seemed so genuine, like he had my best interests at heart.”

“That’s very common,” Brock’s voice quieted as if the topic was too sensitive for talking at full volume. “It wasn’t your fault, Susanna. We’re very grateful to have found you.”

“You helped us take down a really bad guy!” Olivia added with a flair of victory. “You are the hero of the story, Susanna, not us.”

Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked up at both of them. “Thank you so much for coming after me!”

Olivia wanted to remind her that it was their job... but she and Brock both knew it was more than that. “We wouldn’t have done it any other way.”

“So, what happened after Alasdair got you into the warehouse?”

Susanna frowned as if she were having some trouble remembering. “I remember pulling up in front of the warehouse and going, ‘What are we doing here?’ He had me get out and there was someone there. Someone who stuck a needle in my arm. Everything’s kind of a blur after that.” She focused hard. “I remember waking up in the warehouse. I remember there being a lot of chaos and Ellie was there with me. I remember a bigger guy coming and hauling us away, into the U-Haul or something. He injected us with more drugs, but I only remember bits and pieces of it.”

A bigger guy? “It wasn’t Alasdair who loaded you into the U-Haul?”

“I don’t remember,” Susanna’s voice strained a bit. “But I don’t think Alasdair was the one who injected me. There was a bigger guy, more muscular. And he had some type of accent or something.”

Olivia and Brock shared a look as Susanna rustled her sheets.

“There was something else. I do remember Alasdair being in the warehouse, talking in a different language very rapidly. He sounded agitated. But that’s the last I remember of him.”

“That’s all right,” Olivia said. Susanna was reliving the worst nightmare of her life, but it was over now. “What you said helps.”

Even though it only made the situation more complicated. And it only led Olivia back to the one question that had been tugging on her mind since the start of this. Who drove the red sports car away from the U-Haul facility?

Susanna took a moment to regather herself, then pointed to the edge of her bed. “Before you guys go back to, well, wherever you guys are from, can you sign my surfboard?”

“Your surfboard?” Olivia cast a glance down to the foot of Susanna’s bed, seeing a brand new surfboard lining the wall. Where did that come from?

“Yeah. The students heard about what happened. They all pitched in and got it for me. I want you guys to sign it.” She looked up at them, beseechingly. “Even if it washes off someday, I’ll always know it was there. That’s my way of keeping you close.”

Olivia shared a glowing look between her and Brock. “We would be honored.” He answered for both of them.

Susanna’s face ignited a hint of a smile, still a fraction of the joy she once spread to whoever knew her, but Olivia hoped her smile would return in time. She moved beside Brock to the surfboard that lined the wall. Brock plucked the marker from the dry-erase board and scribbled his name near the nose of the board. He handed the marker off to Olivia, who signed her name with a flourish. “Remember this,” she capped the marker and aimed a smile at Susanna, “when you’re the next famous surfer.”

Susanna nodded. “I will. Because of you guys, I will be someday.”

There was more depth and meaning to her words that none of the three people in that room dared to touch. Brock’s ringing phone broke the silence and he fished it out of his pocket. “Excuse me just a moment.” He stepped away, placing the phone to his ear. “Agent Tanner.”

“Thank you for coming to see me, too.” Susanna smiled. “I was so surprised to see you on the ship. But I kinda knew you weren’t the newlywed couple after a while.”

“Oh, did you, now?” Olivia raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the bed. “What, we weren’t lovey-dovey enough?”

Susanna’s laughter was music to her ears. “No, you were plenty that. It was obvious you were together. You can’t fake chemistry, you know. But you were just always around. Asking questions, being smart about things. I got the feeling there was more to you and Brock, but I never said anything.”

“We appreciate that.” Olivia laughed.

Brock slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked back to Susanna’s bed with a resigned, breathless sigh and nod. “Alana Fleming is ready to talk.”

Olivia felt resentment over having to leave Susanna here as she looked back. “Is there anything else before we leave?”

“No, that’s it.” Susanna quieted her voice. “Again. Thank you.”

Brock and Olivia found themselves silent on the route over to the sheriff’s department. It was like the two of them were basking in the relief that both Susanna and Ellie Cline were safe and sound and that Susanna still had a shot at life.

It was only when Brock pulled into the sheriff’s department that he killed the engine and turned to face Olivia. “I don’t think I’ve had a case that gives me this much satisfaction in a minute.”

“Me, too.” Olivia pressed her back into the seat. “Susanna and Ellie are both fine. Sid Cline, Ellie’s dad, checked into a rehab center to help him with his alcohol addiction. Nearly losing Ellie gave him the wake-up call he needed. The state is working to get Susanna somewhere safe at least until she turns eighteen.”

“We’ve tied up a lot of loose ends that weren’t even ours to tie.” Brock’s side grin twitched. But Olivia didn’t share his enthusiasm. She wished she did, but there was one loose end that nagged at her that for some reason, she couldn’t let go of. Who had driven Alasdair’s car away from the U-Haul rental place? Was it Alana? If so, how did she get there? If she had been in school, then how did she wind up at the U-Haul center during school hours? Maybe she left early? It had to be Alana. Mila was too broken over the news that her one true love was actually a scoundrel and wouldn’t have helped him in the end. She had stayed in law enforcement custody after Olivia and Brock had left her anyway.

Olivia was eager to get to the bottom of it. For now, she walked the familiar passageway of the Cape Fremont jail to where Alana sat in the same interrogation room where Josh had confessed everything. Their last visit had been a moment of victory, one that had resulted in them knowing where to start looking for Susanna. What would come of this visit?

Alana sat patiently at the table with no lawyer present. She’d waived her right to an attorney for the moment and seemed to be relying on her overconfident attitude to carry her through this interrogation. Olivia was almost glad that no attorney was present. Alana would have been counseled to keep her confession silent, whereas now it looked like she was ready to come clean.

“So, what have you got for us?” Olivia pinned her with a stare. She was still salty about the little chase that Alana had led her and Brock through, nice scenery or not.

Alana breathed a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. She leaned forward, also folding her hands on the table and kept her gaze on her fingers. “It’s about Alasdair.”

Was she throwing Alasdair under the bus to save her own skin? Or perhaps now she was realizing just what her involvement with him had cost her. “Okay. What can you tell us about Alasdair?”

When Alana looked up, a new infatuation sparked in her eyes. That, mixed with the cruelty, was nothing like Mila’s innocence. She knew what she had been doing. And she was working with Alasdair to accomplish just that. “We met at a party several years back. I was a senior in high school.”

“What’s several years back?” Brock inquired.

Alana looked perturbed that she had to break her story to answer his question. “Ten, eleven, whatever.”

So she was around twenty-eight at the moment, Olivia noted. “Okay.”

“Alasdair was older, more exciting than anyone I’d ever met before.” Alana went on to tell more of a sick love story than a confession. Olivia hated that she had to sit there and stomach all the fine details about how Alasdair was all this, all that. Alana made him sound like the alpha male, the type in the Romantasy novels that make girls’ hearts soar with unmentionable thoughts. Too good to be true, as was the case with everything about Alasdair. “It was passion. It was love.” She pronounced each word with a deep thirst, as if even thinking about him made her swell with desire. “Alasdair was the most thrilling person I’d ever known. He has connections overseas. He took me to the Netherlands for my twenty-first birthday and showed me his estate and we spent a good amount of time there. By then, I had been through school to get my teaching degree. When this happened, my fascination with him became everything and I learned the language.”

Which explained the Dutch-speaking adventure that night. Olivia nodded, wondering when they would get off of the stomach-churning love story and onto the nitty-gritty unless this was all important somehow. “Okay.”

Brock fidgeted, a sure sign that he was also growing tired of the long, drawn-out confession.

“In case you were wondering,” Alana’s voice chilled. “I knew about his business. And not just the shipping company. We often talked about ways to make an obnoxious amount of money. I loved him, and the thought of being rich thrilled me. I told him I wanted in. At this point, he found some property near Cape Fremont and settled. He’s been coming around for a while.”

So it sounded like.

“He and I decided that we wanted to work together. To help with his... operation.”

“Human trafficking,” Brock translated with no filter.

Alana nodded. “He has never said, one way or another. All I know is that I am to pass along any information that I get to him about teens who are struggling at home. Kids with absentee or abusive parents. He preferred them between thirteen and eighteen.”

Olivia wondered if he had considered her as one of his victims at first when they’d met. Maybe he had developed a fascination with her as she had for him. He’d probably seen her as a great source of information.

“That’s all he ever told me. To pass along the information, to put them in touch with one another. And to help that teen leave with him, should they decide they wanted to.”

“So they knew him, trusted him and left with him.” Olivia had to confirm. That explained why there was never a trace found.

“Yes, but it was all very secret,” Alana confirmed. “I don’t know much else, other than that. I just know that his ring probably operates out of the Netherlands, since he has connections and property over there. As far as whatever happened to them when he came and picked them up, I’ve only known about the warehouse for about a year. Up until an emergency last year, he kept me in the dark.”

“Define emergency.” Olivia’s cool tone betrayed her disgust. What constituted an emergency in this line of business?

“One of the kids tried to break free. He was a smart one, he disappeared.” A simple shrug. “Guess he was already a drug user so the heroin didn’t have the effect on him like Alasdair thought, and he faked it, only to somehow escape. We caught him, though. I lured him, playing the part of a teacher and we managed to subdue him.”

She spoke of this as if it was something good. Olivia felt Brock tense up beside her, probably as angry as she was over this whole affair.

Alana shrugged, her palms raised upward. “I just thought, ‘How exciting is this?’ I get to be a part of something exciting, like a spy’s life or something.”

Olivia hated this. Hated this. “You were trading human lives for money.” Olivia’s voice was grave, low with the gravity of the situation. “Selling them into sex slavery. Preying on young teens who didn’t know any better. How is that exciting?”

Only then did her expression waver. “The first one was hard, I remember. Melissa. Red-haired, innocent, sweet girl, but she was beautiful. I started having regrets as soon as I turned her over. That’s why Alasdair gave me her necklace. You know, the tip-off that you guys pinned on me.”

The necklace. All Olivia could see in her mind’s eye was sweet Melissa’s face and suddenly, even the two teens they had saved couldn’t compare to the twenty they hadn’t. Where was that sweet Melissa, now?

“After that, it got easier. After all, I was just giving him intel. Once the package was delivered, he paid me good money for it.”

“And, you have no remorse over luring these kids into living hell?” Brock spared no words as he gestured with a flat palm toward her.

Alana squared her shoulders in a defensive posture. Her gaze flickered, slowly, with authority up to meet them, like a queen of old who enjoyed putting her people through suffering. “It’s nothing personal.” She reminded him. “After all. It was for Alasdair.”

“You did it for him?” Olivia asked. “Or for the money?”

“Both.” Another nonchalant shrug and Olivia wished she could break the teacher’s shoulder. “But mostly for Alasdair. What I shared with him was like nothing that anyone talks about in the real world. It was magical. A fantasy land.”

“Well, all fantasies must come to an end.” Brock reminded her. “And this one has.” He informed her of the charges laid against her in an authoritative tone that betrayed his disgust. Yet even with the hefty charges Alana was facing, she didn’t seem the least bit rattled by them.

“That’s fine. We were never supposed to get caught. But at least I’ll rest easy, knowing we did it together.”

Her complete infatuation with this man was nauseating. It was like she believed this was a Romeo and Juliet type story, or maybe something of a Bonnie and Clyde. Olivia cleared her throat, hoping to clear up her nagging question. “So there is one other thing. We know that Alasdair rented a U-Haul for the purpose of transporting Susanna Webster and Ellie Cline to Charleston. Where is his sports car?”

“I don’t know.” Her vague answer prodded Olivia to glare at her.

“You don’t know?”

“Alasdair never let me drive that thing.” She flicked her hair behind her ear, perfectly manicured nails reflecting the luminescent lights overhead. “It was his baby.”

“You didn’t drive it from the U-Haul center?” Olivia confirmed.

Alana shook her head. “No. I drove my car to the warehouse after you guys showed up and helped him get the kids onto the U-Haul. I didn’t pick it up.”

Olivia believed her about as much as she believed pigs could fly. Except for one thing. Alasdair never let me drive it. Olivia knew that Alasdair was some sort of sociopath or narcissist, and that directly aligned with something one of those would do. But it didn’t answer the question she refused to let go.

“Who drove Alasdair’s car away from the U-Haul center?”

Olivia asked the question into the open air of the car as Brock started the engine. He didn’t put the car into park, he didn’t even try to move out. He just turned to face her, face driven by questions.

“Maybe he had Mila drive it?”

“Mila was with law enforcement all day. They wouldn’t let her go, she’s in a bunch of trouble, innocently doing what she did or not.” Olivia pushed her head against the headrest, her eyes scanning the headliner of the car as if it held all the answers. “We’re not out of this yet.”

“We’ve got Alana, Alasdair, and Mila. Alana confessed that Alasdair had her give him intel, that she convinced the teens to leave with him. That he took them to the warehouse and drugged them.”

“Yes.” Olivia agreed. “But who drove the car? If his two accomplices are busy, are we missing another one?”

Brock turned the car engine off. “You’re saying you think we’re missing someone?”

“We might be.” Olivia turned her head to face him. “What if,” Her question evaporated into a statement. “Alasdair was really easy to catch. Almost too easy, don’t you think?”

Brock put a finger to his chin. “Hmm, let me think. Yeah, getting held at gunpoint by twenty or so guys after getting into a shootout with the other five wasn’t too hard to navigate at all, come to think of it.”

“Stop it, Brock! This is serious!” Olivia threw herself forward, glad the seat belt wasn’t there to pin her to the seat.

He held up his hands in mock surrender.

“I mean, yes, we were surrounded by gunmen, but don’t you think if Alasdair was some kind of mastermind that he would have found out a way to slip through our fingers? To hide the victims in some other location rather than trying to leave with them, knowing that his shipping company had a red flag on them?”

“You have a point.” Brock pondered. “Maybe he thought he could make it in time? Get out of there before we had a chance to track him?”

“Maybe. Or what if someone is letting him take the fall?” There. It was finally out in the open. The question that Olivia had been trying not to voice, but one that needed to be addressed nonetheless.

Brock blinked. “You don’t think Alasdair is the mastermind that Alana claims he is?”

“She said she thinks his trafficking ring is in the Netherlands. She never said for sure. She also said that her job was to get the teens in touch with him and to let them leave with him. Anyone else could be helping him out with that. We don’t know what happened to the teens after they left. We know through Susanna that they were taken to the warehouse. But even Susanna said there was someone else there.”

“She was drugged,” Brock suggested. “Possibly with something else to make her forget the events that happened right before. But you’re right. She did say someone else was there.”

“Right. ‘A bigger guy.’” Brock followed Olivia’s example of looking up at the roof of the car, letting his thoughts have free reign. “We’re missing someone else.”

“Alasdair has someone else working for him.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Brock asked her. “Alasdair?”

Did she? Sure. She was chomping at the bit to do so. It was a long drive to where he was being held, and he probably would be no more helpful than Josh was at first. But they were missing something. “Let’s do it. Wanna take a drive up to Charleston?”

“Sure. But first,” He started the engine again. “Food.”

They pulled into a fast food drive-thru. In thirty minutes, over burgers and fries, they discussed the case between bites. There was no way that Olivia was just walking away with all of these unknowns, so when they got to the jail where Alasdair was being held, she strode in, prepared to fire off as many questions as she could at him.

Alasdair was smart. He did have a lawyer present. The interrogation room in Charleston was not as quaint as the one in Cape Fremont, and it showed in the overheating temperature in the room. Olivia felt beads of sweat building up on her brow, and not from staring at Alasdair’s cocky expression. The arrogance had only dwindled a bit since last night, as if he expected to get off somehow, despite the charges laid against him.

“Alasdair Crosby,” She let Brock do the talking. “How was your first night in jail, ol’ buddy?”

He just smirked even wider. “A luxury hotel. What did you expect?”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Brock cut right to the chase. “Does your little operation have a name?”

“Don’t answer that.” Alasdair side-eyed his lawyer who spoke for him. “My client denies being the owner of any trafficking operation.”

“So, you’re not going to confess to anything, then? Despite the fact that we caught you red-handed on a small cargo ship, leaving with two missing teenagers? Despite the drug paraphernalia in your warehouse, along with obvious signs of human trafficking via beds, drugs, IVs and handcuffs to the beds?” Olivia changed directions and nailed him with a direct question.

Alasdair talked over his lawyer this time, keeping his answers vague. “If you already have all the answers, why should I bother answering?”

They didn’t have all the answers. “How about roping in the people you got to help you?” Olivia challenged. “An eighteen-year-old girl, barely out of school? Ah, yes. Alana gave you up so fast when she realized how serious things had gotten.”

Another shrug. “It’s not like we were hiding anything.”

“Other than your illegal activity,” Brock bit out. “Who are your other assistants?”

“Mila.” Another shrug. Just one name. Boom. It landed like a drumbeat of doom.

“Ah. And is Mila enjoying driving your little red sports car around?” Olivia inquired, desperate to get to the bottom of that question.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did Mila pick up your car from the U-Haul center?” Brock asked.

Alasdair shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there. And if you’re asking if I have any other accomplices, I already answered that. Alana and Mila.”

“And yet, you don’t know how your car left the U-Haul facility.” Brock challenged. “Alana mentioned that it was your baby. That you wouldn’t let just anyone drive it. Now if you wouldn’t let the love of your life Alana drive it, then whoever took it from the U-Haul lot must be someone you really trust, huh? You wouldn’t have just left it there, either, knowing you were going to skip the country.”

“I doubt you’re interested in finding my car.” Alasdair turned the tables, pinning the questions back on them. “So what are you really asking me?”

Olivia took a breath to steady herself. “I want to hear it from you.” He wasn’t giving up the driver. “This is your one chance to come clean. You deny owning the trafficking company?”

“That’s right.” Alasdair grinned, coolly. “Finally, you’re starting to see the bigger picture.”

“It’s pretty abstract to me.” Olivia sat back in her seat, acting like she had all the time in the world. With no missing persons hanging over her head, she did. “So why don’t you paint a better picture for me? Tell me your side of the story. I’m all ears.”

“You really want to know how it is?” Alasdair would be excellent at poker from the way his expression never changed from overly confident and cool. “I get information on teens that have a rough home life. Drunks. Abusers. Absentee parents. Alana and Mila are good at telling me all about them. I meet the kids. Convince them to leave with me in my cool car. I drop them off and whatever happens to them inside that warehouse, I’m out at that point. I’ve never actually seen anyone get kidnapped. I receive my orders when to pick up shipments and where to deliver them to and that’s as far as my knowledge goes.”

“Hold on.” Brock held up a hand. “Are you saying you just drop the teens off at the warehouse and you don’t know what happens when they walk through the doors?”

“Something like that. Whatever it is, I’m not involved with it. For the record, they come with me on their own accord.”

“Believing something else.” Olivia pointed out.

“Regardless. You are correct. I receive orders for containers for pickup and I put them on the ship and ship them. I ask no questions, so I don’t know what happens to those kids.”

There was enough circumstantial evidence to build a case on, but Olivia still wasn’t convinced. “I see.”

“So if you have any other questions for me?” Alasdair gave her one more, final, slow shrug. “I don’t know the answers. You’ll have to find that out, yourself.”

“Do you think he’s lying?”

Brock pinned Olivia with the question as soon as they stepped out of earshot of the interrogation room. “The guy is as sly as a fox. He played Mila and Alana to make them believe that he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He is good at lying. Do you think that he made all of this up? How can he not know what happens to those teens?”

“The warehouse is his, the shipping company is his, he kidnaps teens and takes them there, he’s got to know! But he sounds like he’s trying to build a case of plausible deniability or something. He could be another patsy, just like Mila from the way he’s talking.”

Brock raked his hands through his hair, giving a weary sigh. “This was getting us nowhere. What’s our next move?”

Olivia wasn’t giving up. Determination lengthened her strides. “The one thing that Alasdair can’t deny if he is presented with. Evidence. If he is boss over someone who does all his dirty work for him, there’s one thing that will showcase that.”

After explaining to the attendant who she was and that she was handling Alasdair Crosby’s case, Olivia took the box of evidence that had been collected over the different crime scenes that Alasdair had been a part of, including the ship and the warehouse. Olivia wasn’t really interested in anything but one item: his phone. She pulled it out, removing the plastic baggie that contained it. Jamming her thumb into the button, she waited until it lit up, gently, for her to read the screen.

Brock hovered over her shoulder, gently slipping a hand on her shoulder as he watched the screen come to life. “We may have to take that back to the laptop at the hotel and see if we can’t break into it. I’m sure he has a password set on it.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Olivia nodded as a retro screensaver bled into view, sealed by a row of numbers. Alasdair had thought of everything from making it a seven-number combination and wiping down his fingerprints into smears that created little rainbows across the combination. “Let’s get back.”

Relaxing into the easy chairs at the hotel again, Olivia hooked Alasdair’s phone up to her computer. After going through a series of codes, the phone data spilled into the screen for her and Brock to pick apart, piece by piece.

“This looks like it’ll be easy,” she called to Brock from where he was making another pot of sludgy hotel coffee. Sarcasm dripped from her tone. “The guy owns a business both legal and illegal, and has at least three hundred contacts to pick through.”

“Joy to the world.” Brock shuffled back to where she was and sat down beside her, the growl of the coffee pot from the other room fitting the mood perfectly. “The good news is, there aren’t any current cases of missing teens from the past month or so, so we’re not under the gun to figure it out.”

“Exactly.” Olivia pulled up a list of Alasdair’s contacts and started going through them, one by one. A few didn’t have names attached, but there was one that caught her attention.

“Take a look at this.” She pointed to the screen. Brock peered over her shoulder where a row of the same phone number filled the screen.

“This guy is a really popular one. He called Alasdair seven times yesterday and Alasdair called him six times.” Brock mentioned.

“Alasdair was busy yesterday, and not with his regular shipping company. Unless that was the docks manager.”

“We could always call it,” Brock suggested teasingly. “But the area code isn’t a local number. It isn’t even a South Carolina area code.”

“Maybe it’s a personal cell.” Olivia clicked on it, highlighting it to copy into her database. “Let’s see what we can come up with.”

She dragged the number into her search bar and ran an advanced search on it. While the data buzzed about on her screen like a screensaver, she opened up the texting app to see if the same number had texted Alasdair at all. “Do you think we might get lucky with a text message or two?”

Brock shook his head. “Alasdair wouldn’t be stupid enough to text anything related to his trafficking ring. Those would all be made by phone call.”

“Good point.” Olivia still pulled up the text messages. A recent, unopened one blinked at her and she moved her mouse over to click on it. She froze as she read over the text.

Alasdair, I need you. My husband is not who I thought he was and I’m in trouble. Please hurry. Ange.

“Ahh, looks like he’s been playing someone else. A possible third contact, perhaps?” Olivia re-read over the text, pointing it out to Brock. “Someone named Ange?”

“Ange?” Brock’s eyes widened a bit. “Ange is short for ‘Angela’ isn’t it?”

“It can be…” Olivia’s voice trailed off as she connected with where Brock’s train of thought was headed. Angela. The name pinged off of her memory as a recent name and she racked her brain, trying to think. Then it hit her.

“Wasn’t Angela the name of that woman we met when we first got here?”

“The one who was on vacation with her husband?” Brock nodded in all seriousness. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“You don’t think…” Olivia looked back at the text.

“What is her area code?” Brock asked, scooting closer to Olivia’s computer.

Olivia read the area code off to him and Brock did a second comparison. “Ange and the guy who appeared in Alasdair’s call log thirteen times yesterday both share the same area code.”

As if on command, the phone number came back, filling the screen with information. Olivia leaned closer, reading over it.

“There is no name attached to it. Looks like a burner phone. But this has all the information we need. Look at the cell phone towers where it has pinged.” Olivia grabbed a pen to scribble down the information. “They’ve all been either here, Charleston, or somewhere in between.”

“Where were the last few locations?”

Olivia rolled back to the end of the information. “Charleston. They’ve all been in Charleston.” She read over the names. Charleston, Charleston, an insignificant road that connected Charleston to Cape Fremont... and bingo.

“Brock! We’ve got him.” She pointed. She pulled up the address from her phone and compared the two. “He called him from the U-Haul rental facility at 3:13 pm.”

“So he’s the guy driving the sports car. Whoever this is.” Brock looked as excited as Olivia felt. “So are we following this hunch that he’s the other accomplice?”

“I’m not throwing anything out yet. But I also can’t state anything emphatically.” Olivia sat back. “So, how do we connect them?”

“Let’s run this text message. The one from Ange.” Brock suggested. “Obviously the guy who called Alasdair used a burner phone, but maybe his wife doesn’t have one.”

“I guess it’s worth a try.” Olivia typed in the information on the text message from this mysterious ‘Ange’ person and waited painfully long while the data took its time loading. She could practically feel her senses on fire with the idea that they had finally found the accomplice, but her worry mounted even as she thought about it. Maybe they didn’t have any missing teens to worry about, but now this distraught wife had discovered what her husband was into and might therefore be in danger.

The data came back faster than the burner phone had and sure enough, there, on the screen, smiling right back at Olivia and Brock was a picture of Angela Schmidt, with her name and number attached. Olivia wouldn’t soon forget the sun-kissed skin and long black hair that made Angela’s gorgeous eyes stand out. She really was a trophy wife if she ever saw one and had seemed happy with her husband.

The text she’d sent pinged off of the cell phone tower somewhere between Charleston and Cape Freemont, just off of the highway it seemed.

“What was that guy’s name?” Olivia asked aloud.

“Carl,” Brock answered, his name spat like a curse word from his lips.

“Carl.” Olivia bit her lower lip, thinking hard. “Do you think he’s our guy?”

Before Brock even had a chance to answer, Alasdair’s phone lit up with a call. The phone buzzed toward the edge, drawing Brock and Olivia’s attention to it. Angela’s number spilled across the top.

Olivia shared a glance with Brock as the phone buzzed between them for a few moments. “Should we answer it?”

Olivia nodded toward it. “Go ahead.”

Brock took the phone up into his hands. With the hesitation of a man about to blow his cover, he swiped the answer button and switched the phone over to speaker. “Hello.”

“Hello?” A sobbing woman on the other end sniffed before going on. “Alasdair?”

“This isn’t Alasdair, unfortunately,” Brock answered. “Alasdair’s has been arrested.”

Another sniff and a huge gasp. “What? Oh, no!”

“Is this Angela Schmidt?” Olivia centered her question on the phone’s speaker, all attention on the device. She tried to keep her voice calm to bring some order to the situation.

“Yes, yes, this is Angela! Who is this?”

Olivia exchanged another look with Brock and then back down at the phone. “We’re with the FBI,” Brock answered. We’ve apprehended Alasdair’s phone for a case we’re working.”

“Are you in danger?” Olivia asked.

Another series of sobs broke through the line. “Oh no. Oh, no. What am I going to do? Alasdair, he was my only hope.”

Olivia bit her tongue to avoid spilling the terrible news that Alasdair was nothing but a player. It appeared as though somewhere along the line he had gotten his talons into Angela, too. “Angela, I need you to listen to me. We’re with the FBI, we can help you. Are you in danger?”

Another hiccupped sob. “Yes. My husband... he’s going to kill me.”

Olivia’s gaze snapped up to meet Brock’s and her eyes went wide. “Okay. Can you tell me where you are?”

“I’m at his warehouse. He trapped me here, but he said he’s going to come back.”

“You’re at the warehouse?” With each answer, Olivia’s adrenaline began to spike with the drive to get to Angela before it was too late.

“Yes.”

Brock sprang into action. Holding up a finger, he mouthed “Hold on a moment,” and rushed toward one of the bags stashed in the corner. To anyone walking into their hotel room, they’d think that it was nothing more than their own personal luggage. If they zipped it open, as Brock did now, they’d find a whole bunch of high-tech gear, special for wiretapping and recording phone calls, also serving to pinpoint locations. Brock knew as well as Olivia did that they had to verify that Angela was telling the truth. He brought it over to the desk, putting the pieces into place. “Okay, let’s take it from the top,” He spoke as he worked. “Is your husband with you now?”

“No. He left. I don’t know where he went, or why. But he said he was going to come back.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Olivia asked, watching as Brock finished hooking up the recorder and pushed the button, listening intently through his headset.

“Oh, it’s terrible. I found out some awful, awful news today when I stumbled across my husband’s phone. You know the kids from Cape Fremont who have been going missing lately?”

They knew them very well, actually. Olivia nodded. “Yes.”

“I guess he’s involved somehow.”

So it was confirmed. Carl was the other accomplice. Olivia held her breath, not wanting to miss a single moment of this and leaned forward as if it would help her hear Angela better.

“He has connections with some higher-up boss behind all of it. I don’t know who, but his boss was angry at him earlier today. I heard him yelling over the phone. Then, he got in his car and sped out of here about three hours ago.”

Olivia glanced at the clock. Three hours. Right around the time that Alasdair’s arrest would have been made known. “Go on.”

“I was worried about him when he didn’t come back, so I followed him. We have the location-sharing service on our phones, and I used that to find him. I found him at the warehouse that Alasdair uses. My husband was in the back room, cleaning up some stuff... and when he turned around and saw me, he completely lost it. That’s when I saw it. There were beds with handcuffs. I asked how he knew about this. He came undone and lost his temper. We had a fight and he locked me in this back room. He said he’d be back, but I don’t know where he went. All I know is that he said he was going to kill me when he got back!”

“Did he hurt you?” Brock asked.

“Yes. He beat me up.”

“We’ve got to help her.” Olivia nodded to the phone, communicating the intensity through her eyes to Brock. She kept her voice low to avoid Angela overhearing.

Brock nodded. “Listen, Angela, we’re going to send out some help. Your husband, what’s his name?”

Angela sniffed. “Carl.”

“Carl,” Olivia remembered it from before, but it was good to have the information confirmed. “That’s good. How do you know Alasdair?”

“Family friend. Carl has connections with his shipping company. Carl works in the medical supply industry and ships through Alasdair. It’s all business, but we met at a party one time and really hit it off.”

“I see.” Olivia smelled an affair and wondered if it was the real reason behind Carl’s anger. Then she reminded herself that Carl was involved with Alasdair’s trafficking ring and was probably terrified that his wife would report him to the authorities. Little did he know she already had, inadvertently. “Alasdair is one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Carl and I, well, we haven’t had the best relationship. The last two years have been great, but before that, we fought all the time. Alasdair told me that if I ever needed anything, I should call him. That’s why I’m here.”

Brock gave Olivia a thumbs up, whispering only to her. “I’ve got her location. She really is at the warehouse.”

Olivia nodded. “Okay, Angela, we see where you’re at. We’re going to come to you, okay? Going to get in touch with the state police—”

“Oh, no!” Angela wailed. “Please, don’t call the police! Carl and his boss have connections with the South Carolina State Police and I don’t know which cops are dirty and which ones aren’t!”

“Then it’s up to us,” Olivia muttered to Brock. This thing was bigger than she thought. How could Carl have gotten in with the local police? Was Billy himself in on this? Olivia didn’t want to take any chances. Carl probably had no idea that they were onto him, and unless he found out that Angela had talked to them, they could use Angela’s conversation Brock had recorded and the element of surprise to take him into custody.

“We’re on our way to you.” Brock leaned closer to the phone, speaking calmly in hopes that his serenity would pass to her. “We’re on our way.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Please, hurry. He’s going to kill me.”

No, he wasn’t. Olivia would make sure of that. She hung up the phone and slipped it into her pocket in case it was needed further. “We can’t let Carl get to her.”

She and Brock shot to their feet. Olivia grabbed the keys and hurried out of the hotel room, Brock shadowing close at her heels.

They sprinted to the car and Olivia practically flew into the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, she roared back out onto the street to cut through historic downtown. Traffic was light this time of night, if any cars at all, which made it easier to hurry through the streets toward the warehouse just outside of town. She reached and flicked on the hidden lights on her dash, allowing her to drive fast through downtown without fear of repercussions. She couldn’t risk getting pulled over for pushing the speed limit, not that she was driving too crazy anyway.

“I can’t believe it.” Brock’s voice was filled with the awe and wonder of a mystery reader who had just been thrown a curveball. “All this time and it was the smiling, happy couple who welcomed us with open arms when we first got here.”

“Well, it’s Carl at least.” Olivia navigated around one of the cars that had pulled to the side of the road to allow her to pass. “Angela has no idea what he’s been into. I wonder how he got tied up with Alasdair.”

“How many other people has he roped in?” Brock mused aloud. “Watch this guy, here.”

Olivia saw the guy that Brock was talking about, a guy who braked in the middle of the road, rather than pulling to the side. He only eased over a little bit, causing her to have to straddle the lane to go around him. “Genius,” she muttered once she had safely passed and returned to her lane. She turned onto Main Street, glad that all the cars worked themselves into the right lane so she could ride safely in the left lane, next to the turn lane.

“I wonder if she has any idea that Alasdair is Carl’s boss,” Brock continued his train of thought.

“I don’t think she does. If she did, she wouldn’t have called on him for help.” Olivia turned onto the street that would take them to the warehouse.

“That,” Brock agreed. “And it sounds like she didn’t even know her husband was involved until today.”

Olivia gripped the wheel. Seconds passed before she and Brock pulled back into the warehouse. The yellow crime scene tape still wrapped around the building as law enforcement still had a need to return to it, but her headlights illuminated a red sports car parked in the back alley where they had found Susanna’s surfboard. Anyone driving by would have missed it, but all of Olivia’s attention was on point as she scanned her surroundings, and found it parked by the building.

“Carl drove the sports car,” she murmured. “And he drove it here. He’s back.”

“We gotta be careful.” Brock pulled his gun out and Olivia did the same. Olivia switched off all the lights in her car and got out. The forest was alive with cicadas and crickets, a chorus that easily drowned out quieter noises. Olivia didn’t even bother closing the door as she raced around to the front of the car with Brock, drawing her weapon out of the holster. They had chosen to park in the front lot, meaning they had to pick their way carefully into the alley to get to the room where Angela said she was being held. Side by side with Brock, she sprinted toward the side of the warehouse and pressed her back against it to lean around to the side, peering down the alley and deciding in seconds that no obvious threats were lurking there. The door that led to where the victims were held captive was open, but no sounds emerged from the room. Had Carl already gotten to Angela? Were they too late?

She quietly rounded the corner of the warehouse, taking her time. She placed her feet lightly to avoid the obvious crunch of the dirt road under her tennis shoe. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she tentatively called to the open door, identified herself, and listened for the faintest noise.

No answer, no scurrying, not even the sound of heavy breathing. Olivia hated situations like this. If Carl were inside, he’d have the upper hand, shooting at anything that came through that door. Olivia pressed her back against the wall as she settled in right next to the door. Brock came up beside her, and she fumbled in her pocket, her fingers closing around a mirror. Brock nodded to her as she pulled it out, holding it up to reflect her face, drawn and heavy with exhaustion, before turning it to reflect the inside of the warehouse. It was hard to make out anything from the shadows that encased the inside of the room, but no movement reflected back at her. She turned the mirror this way and that, able to make out the rows of beds, the drugs, the room that had been searched with a fine-toothed comb earlier. Why hadn’t it been cleared yet? And why had Carl returned to the scene of the crime? What was he hoping to accomplish? There was nothing there that could tie the crimes to him, it was all to his boss. Right? Suddenly, a sinking feeling hit Olivia like a rock in her stomach. Something wasn’t right.

Satisfied that no one was in the room, she made eye contact with Brock as she slid the mirror back into her pocket. Her lips formed the words, one, two, three before she jumped into full view of the door. She leveled her weapon with outstretched arms, pointing to each corner of the room, and all of her senses stood at attention. Brock followed her with a flashlight behind her in one hand, gun in the other. The flashlight bathed the room in light and gave Olivia the courage to take another step, further into the room, piece by piece. She picked her way along the rows of beds, but no one hid behind them. There had been signs of a struggle, though, toward the back where it hadn’t been, before. Some of the bed sheets on the made beds were rumpled and a stand was tipped over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

Olivia sighed, glancing back at Brock. “She’s not here.” She dared to speak in her normal voice. “But there are signs of a struggle.”

Brock nodded, his eyes going toward the tipped-over stand. “Where is she?”

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, coming from the outside. The direction sounded farther away from the door, perhaps over by the other side of the warehouse they hadn’t been to yet. Brock ripped around to face the door and Olivia felt a chill tingle down her spine. There she was.

“Help me! Help me!! Help me, somebody!”

Brock sprinted, gun at the ready. Olivia didn’t waste any time as she followed after him, following the sound to the outside. A woman’s scream rose above the treetops behind the warehouse, her voice breaking under the desperate screams of pure terror. “Help meeee!”

“Angela!” They broke into a jog, following the sound of the screams. The sound was louder at the far end of the warehouse. Around the corner, one of the lights attached to the side illuminated a shadow of a person, holding another person, shrinking from them. By the way the shadow moved up and down and thrashed to the side, Olivia assumed the person was struggling.

“He’s got her.” Olivia poured everything into her run, the nerves, the adrenaline rush to get to her as Angela cried out and screamed again. Once they broke around the corner, a silhouette of a man holding a woman tightly clamped to his chest became visible. He kept to the shadows formed by the towering wall of the warehouse where the streetlamp or attached lights could not reach. It was hard to pick out any features with the backdrop of the streetlights behind them, but there was no mistaking that the woman was struggling. She gave little grunts, bucking and thrashing her body about, but the man had a hold of her. He was dragging her backward and she raised her legs into the air, kicking violently before he set her back down again and yanked her backward.

“Somebody help me, please!”

“FBI, freeze! Let the hostage go!” There was no way Olivia would shoot at a moving target with the hostage. Her hands were tied, she realized, unless Angela was out of the picture. She opted to lower her weapon and continue the chase as the man dragged her back around the opposite corner, to the front of the warehouse. Oh, that was smart. Right in plain view of anyone driving by or looking to see where the screams were coming from. Olivia knew the warehouse wasn’t that far from the neighborhood, so she expected the police to come rolling in at any minute. She hoped. Then again, everyone was inside with their air conditioning cranked up full notch and the cicadas were doing a fine job of drowning out any outdoor noise that might have reached them.

An arm leaned around the corner of the warehouse. “Look out!” Brock cried as he and Olivia dove toward the ground. A few rounds splintered the foliage behind where she’d been standing. Her free hand came up, covering her head as Brock hovered above her, protecting her with his body. When the shots finally ceased, Olivia did a mental inventory. No new pains. Good. She scrambled to her feet beside Brock and continued the chase, saving her ammunition for when they broke around the corner.

“You’re okay, right?” Brock kept casting glances at her as he lengthened his strides to take him closer to the corner where they had disappeared. “You’re okay?”

“Yes.” Olivia nodded, just as another even more terrified scream split the air. “But Angela’s not!”

She pressed her back against the warehouse and dared a quick look around the corner, just in time to see Angela’s leg kick out one more time before disappearing into the front door of the warehouse.

“He took her inside!” Olivia hissed, springing around the corner and heading for the front door before Carl could lock it.

Brock spun out from the other side of the wall and shouted loud enough for anyone to hear. “Let the hostage go, Carl! We know who you are! Your boss is in jail. We can work this out. Come out with your hands up!”

“Let the hostage go!” Olivia repeated, clutching at her firearm.

Their only answer was another scream, one that echoed in the warehouse. “No. No. Noooo! Help me, please! He’s going to kill me, ahhh! Help!”

Brock swore under his breath. Shoulder to shoulder, they picked up their pace, the front door closer with each step. She could hear Angela’s sobbing getting louder, but it didn’t sound like it was right by the warehouse door that Carl had foolishly left open. Her sobs came from somewhere farther back inside the warehouse.

“Olivia, wait!” Brock warned her, but she threw his warning to the wind and appeared in the doorway within seconds. Her thinking was that if Angela was father back in the warehouse, that meant that Carl wasn’t holding her right by the door. She had time to get in and assess the situation before he fired back at her.

Which is exactly what happened. She followed them into the warehouse, Brock muttering something behind her and following her. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” she bit out through ground teeth. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t willing to take the few seconds it took to secure herself to risk Angela getting shot. What had happened during the time it took Olivia and Brock to get there? Angela must have somehow escaped the other room, probably waiting by the door, so when Carl yanked it open, she ran. He must have caught up with her by the other end of the warehouse and when they showed up, he dragged her back here.

Olivia could hardly see anything but towering shadows of boxes and totes stacked higher than a man, pallets with much of the same making up a nice little maze for her to work her way through. The lights weren’t on, so she relied on the streetlight flooding the doorway to make out the shadows. Her ears were all attention as she followed the sound of Angela’s crying somewhere near the back of the spacious room. Her sobs rose to hit the ceiling, bouncing around amid the low-hanging vents and the metal rafters before bouncing back down to the cavernous room again, stocked with medical supplies. How ironic, Olivia thought, that a man who harmed other human beings hid under the guise of one who helped them by shipping and handling medical supplies.

Every muscle in Olivia’s body hardened to something akin to stone. Her hands gripped her firearm, her eyes large and not missing anything. Movement near the back caught her eye. A man about the size of Carl dropped a body onto the ground behind a large stack of totes that were stacked as high as a man’s waist and pointed the barrel of a gun down at the body he threw down. Angela’s sobbing continued from behind the stack of totes where he was. At least they had him in sight.

He stood right in the path of the light that spilled in from the streetlight right out front. It took Olivia a moment, but she was able to make out the familiar features of Carl’s face, the pointed nose, the set jawline, the twitch of a smirk on his face. He then turned and faced them. The only thing between him and where Olivia stood with Brock was a stack of totes that concealed his lower half and Angela, lying behind it, sobbing her lungs out. Now that he didn’t have Angela in his arms, Olivia kept her weapon trained on him. “Let her go, Carl. She’s your wife. You don’t want to do this.”

A hearty laugh shook his body. “Olivia! Brock! I see HR’s gotcha out doing some fieldwork, do they? How do they feel about you waving guns at people?”

Behind the totes, Angela kept sobbing. No more words, no more pleading but just a continual strain of crying. Carl kept his gun aimed right at her, too cool and calm for the escalated situation.

“You heard us,” Brock growled. “We’re with the FBI. Put your weapon down and let the hostage go.”

“Stop!” Carl commanded and the hand that held the gun shook out, to emphasize the point. “One more step and she dies. Prematurely. She’s going to die anyway, but if you keep moving, her blood will be on your heads. Don’t take another step.”

Angela kept sobbing, grating on Olivia’s nerves not because it was annoying, but because it meant Carl would stoop so low as to point a gun to his own wife’s head and use her as a control tactic. She stopped, putting all her weight on the foot that was about to take a step forward and brought her other foot up to align with it. She widened her stance for balance but didn’t take another step. Brock came up beside her, flanking her on the right side. It was two against one at this point, but still, Carl had the upper hand. She tried again. “Let Angela go. We have Alasdair Crosby in custody, and he can’t get to you anymore. We can work this out. Just let Angela go.” Sure, they could work it out. Olivia knew it would work out about as well as a criminal telling a judge that he promised never to commit another crime, but right now, all she cared about was saving Angela.

“Oh, so you know all about it, do you?” he mocked. “Well, let me tell you how this is going to work. You both are going to drop your weapons and kick them over to your left side or I blow her brains all over the floor of this warehouse.” He gave his demands in an authoritative tone that left no room for argument. “Got it?”

Angela’s crying remained the same, which struck Olivia as slightly odd. Normally, at any type of enhanced threat, a hostage would cry harder, descend into hysterics or at least beg for help. Angela’s cries kept the same sound and wavelength. She must be ready to give up. Or something else was wrong.

“Do it now or she dies!”

“Wait!” Olivia cried. She had no time to sit here analyzing how Angela was crying. Every situation was different. Gritting her teeth, she mentally kicked herself for not bothering to call for backup. She had her cell phone on her, but how quickly could she get to it? She wasn’t thinking about that now. She was more worried about the sobbing woman on the other side of the totes. “We’re doing it. Don’t shoot her.”

A smug grin lined his face. “That’s it. Do it now. Faster!” At the word faster, he shook the gun at his wife.

Olivia lowered her gun to the cold ground in perfect sync with Brock, who gritted his teeth audibly. “This is the second time this has happened.”

“Yeah, and we lived the last time, didn’t we?” Olivia muttered to him and rose, her hands in the surrender position, overcrowding Brock’s as he did the same.

“Now, kick them to your left.”

To your left? Oddly specific.

Olivia didn’t see Brock kick his gun, but she heard it skitter across the floor in front of her. She worked her tennis shoe around the gun and slid it to her left side as well. As angry as this made her, she already formed a plan. There was only one of Carl and two of them. One of them could disarm him when he wasn’t paying attention and the other could go at him with hand-to-hand combat and everything they had. One of them could call for backup or take him down, after getting Angela away from him.

“And your flashlight.”

Brock sighed. “So demanding.” He placed his flashlight on the ground and kicked it to the left. It rolled in a large circle before disappearing somewhere into the darkness. Olivia hadn’t noticed him switch it off, she’d been so intent on Angela.

“Now, let Angela go.” She called to him, placating him with her palms which were already stretched toward him.

“Nuh-uh.” He condescended with his voice and it infuriated her. “You both take three steps forward.

“This isn’t Simon Says!” Brock growled.

“Well, if it’s games we’re talking about here,” Carl raised the gun, slanting it down to perfectly align with his wife’s crying form. “Then let me remind you that you’re playing with a human life.”

Brock sighed. He was the first to move forward and Olivia choreographed her steps with his. After they had both taken three steps forward, she stopped, an annoyed flicker across her face. “Okay. Now what?”

“Now, see, that’s better?” Carl grinned at her. “Much better. Now what? Well…”

His smile grew even wider and Olivia was sure she heard a successful laugh escape his lips. “Okay, honey. You can stop crying, now.”

On cue, the crying stopped. No sniffles, no descent into quieter sobs before muffling them. Just stopped. Like some kind of recording on a television set that was turned off. Olivia’s eyes widened. What in the world? She didn’t have time to complete that thought before the door to the warehouse slammed behind them, resulting in an echo that reverberated around the entire spacious room and encased them in thick darkness.

“What’s going on?” Brock demanded. Olivia felt him turn, as she also looked behind her to see what had happened to the door, but her eyes could make out nothing in this pitch-blackness. The only sound now was her heart hammering in her ears. Just as her eyes began to make out lumps of shapes in the darkness, one that stood particularly close startled her. She wanted to lash out at the form, but a click sounded right near her head.

Another click sounded near where Carl was and row by row, the lights above them flickered on. The LED white lights snapped to attention, dousing the warehouse in what felt like daylight, compared to the dark. Olivia didn’t dare turn, because as the light reached her, she found herself staring into the smiling, beautiful face of Angela Schmidt.

“It’s about time you did what he said.” She pushed the gun closer to Olivia’s face. “All of that talking, it’s a good thing that I wasn’t on the ground, or I’d be dead long before now.”

Angela should have known better than to stick a gun in Olivia’s face. Olivia’s survival instinct kicked in. She clapped a hand on Angela’s wrist, ducking her head to the side and wrenching her wrist to the side in what was intended to be an uncomfortable position.

Angela gave a growl of frustration and pain as the gun went skittering to the ground. “Why, you…” She tried to yank her wrist out of Olivia’s grasp. Olivia went in for a sucker punch to the jaw as Brock lunged for the gun. Angela caught sight of him and ducked out of the way of Olivia’s flying wrist, barely scraping it past her ear. She covered the gun with her foot and horse-kicked it backwards, out of Brock’s grasp. Brock cursed again and lunged to help Olivia out with Angela, who was turning out to be quite the fighter, too.

With her free hand, she reached to pull Olivia closer to her. Olivia lost her balance as she careened forward toward the woman, her face meeting Angela’s upturned knee. Pain splintered through her nose and the side of her cheekbone as she released Angela’s wrist and fell to the side. She wasn’t sure if she was bleeding or if her nose was just running, but she didn’t have time to stop and find out.

“Olivia! No!” Brock growled, taking Olivia’s place in the combat with Angela. Olivia rolled onto her back and sent a look in Carl’s direction. So. Angela had been with him all along and lured them into this trap, had they? Well, if they were working together, she felt more confident in fighting back with her. She knew Carl wasn’t going to shoot at them when his wife could possibly get caught in the crossfire.

Carl’s eyes narrowed into slits of frustration and he sighed, coming around the side of the totes. Olivia ignored the pain in her face and rolled over to her knees, launching herself to her feet. Now that it was officially two against two, she readied herself to face the bigger man in the equation. Brock grappled with Angela, attempting to subdue her by swinging her hands behind her back, but that wasn’t going over so well with her. She fought back with trained movements that countered Brock’s attempts to subdue her. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on her own opponent. “Stand down, Carl. You both have already lost.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You see…” He pointed the gun at her feet and squeezed off a round that hurled itself into Olivia’s ears with a pain that lingered. She jumped back, lucky she wasn’t caught in the ricochet that sent the bullet flying somewhere to the left. Brock and Angela both flinched and whirled around to face Carl as he pointed the gun right at Olivia. “You can’t disarm me without Angela shooting your partner. And he can’t disarm her without me shooting you. You both are weaponless, so I’d say you’re at quite the impasse.”

“You forget that I’ve already disarmed Angela,” Olivia growled.

At which, Angela laughed. “Do you really think it was that simple?” She fumbled with her jacket and produced another gun. “This one, I believe, is yours.”

Olivia threw a look where she and Brock had discarded their guns, only to see they were nowhere to be found. Angela must’ve picked them up while Carl had them occupied with stepping forward a certain amount and dropping the flashlight. It had all seemed rather specific, Olivia thought to herself. She gritted her teeth together, narrowing a glare at Angela.

“Good. Now that we’ve worked that out, are you going to do anything else particularly stupid?” Carl glared at Olivia. “Give up your cell phones, or I go for the leg.” He lowered the handgun to point at Olivia’s leg. “I don’t have to miss. That first one was just a warning shot.”

Angela grinned and also pointed the gun at Brock’s leg. “Remember that anything you two do results in the other getting hurt. And we sure don’t want that to happen on your honeymoon, do we?”

Olivia sighed. She reached into her pocket where her phone was located and strangely felt two there. Her memory came rushing back to her, reminding her that she had Alasdair’s cell phone with her that she’d grabbed in case they needed to contact Angela again. Not that she could hack into it without her computer, but it was worth a shot. She grabbed her own cell phone, bigger than Alasdair’s by a few inches and pulled it out of her pocket, begrudgingly handing it over to Carl.

“Thank you.” He reached with a gloved hand and took it from her. Olivia dared a glance at Brock who unhappily did the same with his phone to Angela, who pocketed it with a smile.

“Now that that’s over, and you believed our little story about the South Carolina State Police being on our side, something tells me you didn’t call for backup. Which is perfect,” Angela gushed.

“It is perfect,” Keeping the gun trained on Olivia, Carl stepped backward toward where he’d been running the show from behind the wall of totes. “Because when your dead bodies are discovered by Sheriff Carter, they’ll be convinced that you returned to the scene of the crime and were engaged in a firefight between a looter, wrong place wrong time. So you’ll never live to tell the story.”

With that, he reached down, grabbing hold of something – or rather someone. With a yank, he pulled the figure of a man to his feet with his hands tied behind him and a black bag over his head. Brock came up beside Olivia and she could feel every muscle in his body running as tense as she felt. Who was this guy, now? So Carl actually did have a hostage the whole time?

Carl ripped the bag from the hostage’s head, revealing a man, probably around his late twenties or early thirties with a gag preventing him from making much noise. His eyes were wide. Carl plucked the gag from his mouth and the man spat out another cloth that his mouth had been closed around. “What do you think you’re doing, man?”

Olivia didn’t recognize the man. She assumed that he was yet another victim of this underground trafficking ring, kidnapped by being in the wrong place. The man looked over at her, wide eyes begging her to do something. “Carl, listen to me.” Her desperation mounted with each second, along with her mentally kicking herself for not bothering to call for backup. She’d had no idea that Angela was going to lure them into a spider web of lies. “He has nothing to do with this. Let him go.”

“See, there you go again.” Carl’s snide remark creased his lips in a sneer. He nodded his head curtly as if annoyed with her. “You think that you can negotiate with me and that I’ll just let a hostage go. It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart.”

His pet name for her grated on her nerves, but she tried again. “Why not? If you let him go—”

“If I let him go, then I give you both the advantage over me. You think that you can take Angela and me down and in doing so, will send us right to prison without a second thought. There’s no way that we would ever go for something like that, and so we have to take you both out.” He gave a fake pout, tilting his head to one side. “Which is really sad. You make such a cute couple.”

“HR.” Angela snorted, infiltrating Olivia and Brock’s personal space as she kept Olivia’s gun trained on the back of both of their necks, switching back and forth between Olivia and Brock as casually as picking fruit at a grocery store. “You really thought we’d buy that, didn’t you?”

Brock glared daggers at her from the side of his eye. “And you thought that the cover of your own happy-couple story would go unnoticed forever?”

“But it did.” Angela shrugged. “Obviously it worked like a spell because both you and Olivia were convinced that Carl got in trouble with his boss and was going to come after me to kill me. Now, because of your fatal oversight, you can die knowing that you locked up the wrong mastermind and that the true mastermind of this whole operation is going to go free and start over again, somewhere else. So you really did nothing but take out one of our meaningless contacts.”

“Wait,” It was Olivia’s turn to glare, first at Angela, then at Carl. “The real mastermind?”

“That’s right.” He proclaimed with pride. “What? Did you really think Alasdair was smart enough to run an entire crime operation? I’m afraid you don’t know him at all.”

Pieces were falling into place that made so much sense. Alasdair was a charmer, who had two girls from completely different circles infatuated with him and head over heels in love with him. Maybe obsessed was more the word in Alana’s case, as she was even willing to go down with him.

Romeo and Juliet indeed.

Alasdair had made it clear that he knew nothing about the goings on at the warehouse and at first, Olivia hardly believed him. But now, his story made sense.

I get the kids, I drop them off and whatever happens to them inside that warehouse, I’m out at that point. I’ve never actually seen anyone get kidnapped. I receive my orders when to pick up shipments and where to deliver them and that’s as far as my knowledge goes.

He didn’t know enough to ever be a witness to the kidnapping—so he said. Yet he knew just enough guilt to indict him while the real mastermind ran the show from the guise of a tourist with his wife. A court would never believe Alasdair’s fanciful tale that he didn’t know what was going on when he was doing all the grunt work. Carl and Angela had set up Alasdair to take the fall should they ever be discovered. So, why not just let him take the fall, now?

“I get it.” She grasped at straws, words her only weapon at this point. “Alasdair was your ‘get out of jail free’ card. Literally. He did all the dirty work, found the teens, brought them to the warehouse and shipped them out, but you were the one to make the actual deal, to turn them into property after he left them in your hands.”

“Pretty much.” Carl nodded. “Congratulations for figuring that out.”

“So why not let Alasdair take the fall for it now?” Olivia chided. “Why did you re-open Pandora’s box after we had already closed it? You could have skipped the country, knowing that Alasdair was going to jail and no one was even remotely close to suspecting you.”

“We didn’t open Pandora’s box.” Angela’s voice chilled her to the bone. “You did. You see, Carl and I did some digging after we met up with you at the hotel. Who honeymoons to Cape Fremont? Couples who do shotgun weddings or elopements and have no money to travel anywhere extravagant. You didn’t give off that vibe, so after we got to know you that night around drinks, we did some digging. Next time you go undercover, you should really change your name. It was easy to uncover a couple named Olivia and Brock, who was all over the news several months ago because of a case involving Adeline Clarke?”

Adeline? Even now after she was dead, she was still causing issues for them! Olivia shot Brock a defeated look out of the corner of her eyes, not missing how disgusted he looked that they had been so careless with something as silly as changing their names. Maybe they weren’t ready to go back in the field after all. They’d made such a mess of this case.

Angela didn’t stop there. “After learning you were some of the best agents in the FBI, Carl made a good point that if Alasdair were ever arrested, you two wouldn’t stop there. You would want to make sure that all of your T’s were crossed and your I’s were dotted before you left town, so you’d investigate everything, thus leading to Alasdair’s phone. We were right, obviously. So we started making moves toward making sure that didn’t happen long before you ever had the chance to doubt yourselves.”

There were still so many things that didn’t make sense. But they didn’t have time to unravel it.

“The unfortunate thing is,” Angela raised the gun. “Your story ended so tragically. Two of the best agents in the FBI only to be killed by returning to the scene of the crime and shot down by a common looter who’d heard that Alasdair’s warehouse was taken down, thus ripe for the picking. At least you were able to get a few shots in to take him down before he shot you both down in cold blood.”

No protest. No chance to bargain one more time for the innocent guy’s life. Just pure, cold, raw evil. Carl released his hostage and stepped to the side. Angela squeezed the trigger of Olivia’s gun. A bullet whizzed by Olivia’s head. The hostage gave a grunt of pain, flying backward to his place behind the tote where his groans of pain ceased.

Angela gave Olivia and Brock a good hard shove that sent them both flying forward, attempting to right themselves. She then dove behind one of the pillars that the boxes formed, stacked floor to ceiling and providing just enough shelter from the shots that rang out from Carl’s gun that deafened Olivia for a moment.

“Olivia!”

Brock perceived what was happening and took action. His body slammed into Olivia’s, pushing her to the ground out of the line of fire that Carl’s gun sprayed at them. Olivia hit the cement, pain blindsiding her right side upon impact. The sparks that shot up her elbow as a result of the impact on the hard ground did little to compare to the grunt of pain emitted from Brock. She twisted around to see his face wrapped with pain as he withdrew his hand from his side where it was painted with blood.

“Brock! No!”

“Olivia…” He groaned out. “Get out of here and call for help. Now.”

“I can’t leave…”

“Go!” He rolled to a sitting position, placing his feet against a pallet stacked nearby. Using his legs as leverage, he launched himself to slide across the warehouse floor, his hand reaching for Angela’s gun that Olivia had disarmed from her. She hadn’t kicked it very far and his hands closed around it before another shot rang out. “Go!”

She wasn’t going to leave. No way. But she had to get out of the line of fire or she wouldn’t be of any use for Brock. Olivia scrambled to her feet, half-running, half-limping away from the firefight that Brock had joined. Several shots rang out from Carl, but Brock fired off two rounds right back. I can’t leave him!

“Angela!” Carl cried out for his wife and suddenly, she appeared behind a stack of totes held on a forklift. Gun aimed right at Olivia.

Thinking quickly, Olivia slammed both palms against the stack of totes, causing them to wobble on their unstable surface on the forklift. Angela’s gaze jerked up just in time to see the conglomeration of medical supplies timbering toward her. A tremendous crash rang through the warehouse, competing with the shots exchanged between Brock and Carl for noise. It was the kind of noise that kept going as lids cracked open, medical supplies spilled, each tote finding its way to the cement ground one by one, to dump their contents on the ground. Olivia relied on the sound to mask her footsteps as she scurried behind another stack, this one balancing on a pallet and darted out of sight of both Angela and Carl.

She peered around it to the other side in time to see Brock lying on the ground, one hand clutched to his bleeding side, the other firing back round after round from Angela’s gun. She had him in her sights for just a moment before the lights went out, submerging her and Brock in pitch blackness once again.

She wanted to call out his name, but even the sounds of the firefight died away into nothing. The stack of totes she had pushed over had ceased their rubble, but the silence was even more deafening. The kind of eerie silence from horror movies before the killer was about to strike.

She heard Brock panting in the darkness and carefully padded her way to him, her tennis shoes making no sound on the cement floor. She heard him dragging himself with groans elsewhere from where she’d last seen him, probably behind what he hoped was some form of protection. She had to think quickly. If she could get him to safety and get the gun from him, maybe she could come up behind Carl and take him out while he was after Brock. In the darkness, he’d have no idea. They just had to watch out for Angela. Had she managed to escape the avalanche of totes Olivia had tipped over or had she gotten trapped under there?

“Oh, Oliii-iviaaa,” Carl called to her, sing-song style, his voice infiltrating the darkness that encased them. She held her breath and pressed her back against a stack of boxes, not enough to tip them over and alert him to her location. She tried to pinpoint where the sound came from, but in the spacious room, there was a slight echo even with boxes stacked floor to ceiling. This was just great. “Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Olivia worked to still her heavy breathing, from shock and from trying to run or fight off Angela. In for five, out for five, in for five, out for five. She used the time she took to breathe to formulate a plan. If she made it to Brock, she’d startle him and risk him making a sound, thus giving away his location or worse, shooting her thinking she was a hostile. Knee-jerk reactions were human, especially to humans who were hurt. Please, please, don’t be fatally wounded, Brock! Hang in there, I’m coming for you.

She couldn’t hear any footsteps. If Carl was moving, he was doing it silently. “I hear you like games.”

Olivia closed her eyes, filling her lungs with one more breath. In for five... I hate games.

“So let’s play a game, shall we? I’ve already shot Brock, so now, I’ve got to shoot you. It won’t look very convincing if Angela shoots you with your own gun, now will it? It has to come from the gun of the looter or else our story will never work. So how about this? I start shooting and try to pinpoint your location by whatever sound you make. A literal shot in the dark, if you will. How about that?”

Olivia quietly slid to her knees, her heart hammering in her chest. Oh, great. Sure, go ahead. Shoot away. Eventually, you have to run out of bullets.

“Ready?”

Brock groaned somewhere nearby. “Schmidt, don’t you da—”

A shot rang out, probably three or four yards in front of her. The bullet splintered through a stack of boxes, she estimated maybe a few inches above her head if she were standing. Olivia flattened herself to the ground, covering her head and splaying her fingers through her hair to protect herself from flying debris.

“My guess is that you’re trying to find your partner. I heard you were engaged! How sweet. So naturally you’d try to discover his location. And since he just made a sound, you’re probably on your way to him, now, aren’t you? So let’s see.”

Another shot, this one closer than the first. It still sounded like he was shooting up where her head might be, perhaps her chest. It wasn’t close to the ground, so maybe she’d be safe?

She wasn’t taking any chances. He was moving closer to Brock, she should move away. She rolled onto her toes, pushing herself into a planking position and arm-over-arm, she started to army crawl toward where the bullets were flying, thinking that he would move closer any second now. Hopefully, he would shoot right over her head and not think to shoot at the ground. It would help if she could see something other than pitch blackness.

She heard a sound that made her pause and dread filled her. The familiar sound of a clip sliding into a magazine told her that Carl had reloaded the gun. He wasn’t going to run out of ammunition any time soon. She continued her silent crawl, her elbow burning from where she’d struck the ground, her legs feeling the same from holding herself upright. She tried to picture herself at the gym rather than fighting for her life while some maniac was shooting at her and Brock in order to bring some semblance of sanity to her situation.

Two more shots burst from the gun, one sticking somewhere in the wall, missing a stack of totes. The other one, right above her head, tearing through the other side. Something started to fall through the air, some sort of debris and Olivia dropped herself to the floor to cover her head as her body was littered with pieces of plastic and cardboard falling from the stack. The impact of her elbow hitting the ground again made her tuck her lips inside her mouth to keep from crying out. She must have breathed too loudly, though.

“Oh.” His voice was closer, coming from the other side of the totes. The proximity startled her. He was probably peering at her from between stacks. “There you are.”

Crap. Olivia dropped her silent act and sprang to her feet, finding her footing as another shot pierced the ground right by her foot. She cried out in surprise, sprinting blindly through the dark, holding her hands out for obstacles that she might run into.

Obstacles.

She could use them to her advantage. She’d done it for Angela.

With gunshots following each of her footsteps, she felt along her way. She sensed there was something in front of her and she darted to the side to duck behind it as shots kept ringing out.

“Did I getcha?” Carl laughed.

Olivia wasted no time coming out from behind her hiding place. Feeling blindly in the dark, she found the inventory she’d been running behind and gave it a hard shove, angling it in more of a southwest direction, rather than just left or right. Her aim was to have the domino effect and hopefully crush Carl beneath the load, or at the very least, distract him. The stacks broke as they careened toward the ground, totes falling clumsily and raining on the ground as each stack pushed into another, into another.

“Brock, watch out!” she shouted before going back behind the stack that had sheltered her while she formed her plan. She could only hope that Brock wasn’t in the path of the dominoes she’d made of the inventory. He might not be able to get out of the way fast enough.

Crash after rumbling crash blotted out any noise in this area of the warehouse. Olivia took it as her chance to run, trusting that Carl was going to be too busy trying not to get crushed to worry about where she was. She followed the sound of where she’d last heard Brock’s voice and when she got to the end of the totes that had once been stacked, she dropped to her hands and knees, feeling in the dark. Come on, Brock, make a sound. I can’t see, I need you to make a sound.

“Very clever!” Carl’s uproarious laughter sounded on the other side of what used to be her protection. “But now you don’t have anything to hide behind and I can just start shooting. Along the ground, I’m assuming?”

Her hand slammed against a warm body and Brock grunted. Olivia stifled a gasp, feeling the stickiness of warm blood against her hand. Brock covered for her, shouting through ground teeth, “Leave her alone, Carl! She’ll tear this place apart before she lets herself get caught by you!”

Olivia felt for one of his arms, sliding down until she met his hand. She found the cool steel of the gun and slipped it from his grasp.

“That’s not for you to decide, unfortunately. This game is fun.” Carl taunted, still far enough away for the moment.

Olivia pinpointed his direction by the sound of his voice. He was to her right, around the same area where he had been when she’d tipped the totes over. An idea came to her mind. They needed to see. She had the gun in her hands, now. She crouched, feeling along the ground for one of the totes that had split open. Her hand closed around an item, a small box that she could easily lift with one hand. It had some weight to it, and though she had no idea what it was, it would do the trick just nicely for what she had in mind.

She stood to her feet, reared back the hand that contained the item she’d picked up, and chucked it into the open air in what she hoped was a football-worthy throw. The item made contact with something, a muffled sound upon impact and Carl followed the sound, shooting in its direction a couple of times. Olivia took this as her chance to sprint across the open space in the warehouse, feeling her way in the dark and hoping she didn’t run into something that would give away her location as a sitting duck.

Brock covered her as he always did by shouting. “Leave her alone, Carl! Olivia! Olivia, are you okay over there?”

She chose not to answer. She slowed her pace, feeling in front of her blindly in the dark, praying Angela hadn’t made her way back to this location, yet. She found the stack of totes where Carl had been hiding, pretending that he had Angela and gunpoint and felt her way around them. Once she was on the other side, her hand groped at the wall for the light switch that Carl had used to control the situation. She found it and gave it a determined flip as she dropped to her knees behind the totes.

Following a series of clicks and humming of motors, the LED lights came on, flooding the warehouse in a welcome shower of light. Olivia glanced over next to her, seeing the man Angela had shot lying dead in a pool of blood. Next to him was a Bluetooth speaker, probably what Carl had used to play Angela’s crying on repeat and make them think that she was down behind the totes. Olivia should have known since her voice didn’t fluctuate with the rising tension as most hostages’ voices did. Their hysterics usually rose along with their captor’s voice as he shouted his demands. She wasn’t making that mistake again.

Her heartbeat hammered in her ears. This was the point of no return, now. There was no going back. She reached and separated two stacks of totes just enough so she could peer through them. In seconds, she observed Carl standing next to the huge mess Olivia had made of the once neatly stacked boxes. Angela stood behind him, no doubt having run to her husband so he could just shoot randomly in the dark without fear of hitting her. Blood leaked from a gash in her brow, probably the result of being under the first stack Olivia had tipped over.

The light switch had drawn Carl’s attention to her location, but that she expected. She stuck the gun between the totes, taking careful aim for Carl.

“I thought you were smarter than that, Olivia. Now I know right where you are.” He took steps toward her.

Olivia aimed for his chest. Closed one eye to make sure her aim was true. She got one shot at this. One shot.

She squeezed the trigger.

A shot rang out through the warehouse. A bullet whizzed through the air. Carl stopped dead in his tracks, a surprised grunt emitting from his throat. Olivia forced herself to exhale calmly as she watched him. A spread of burgundy blood colored his chest, resulting in him falling to his knees.

Angela let out a shriek. “Carl! No!”

Olivia shot to her feet, aiming her gun at Angela. Angela pivoted around, taking aim, but Olivia was too quick for her. She didn’t aim as carefully as she had with Carl, but she still hit her mark. Following the crack of another round, Angela cried out in pain, throwing her right hand to her side as she dropped Olivia’s gun to the floor. Blood leaked out from around her palm, coating her hand in a crimson stain.

She took one look at Olivia, their gazes colliding with force. Angela looked once more at her husband before turning and sprinting through the warehouse.

“No!” Olivia leaped over the stack of totes and took off after her, losing her instantly. She followed the blood trail through the warehouse to a familiar wall that held the door that led to where they’d kept the kidnapped teens.

Angela slammed the door before Olivia could get there. It took her only seconds to catch up and she pushed against it, only to hear it lock behind her. She reared back and slammed her body into the door but of course, it didn’t budge.

There was no time. The door to the outside from that room had been left wide open.

Olivia snapped around, running through the warehouse, mindful not to slip in the piles of blood that Angela’s bleeding hand had left behind. She emerged back into the open warehouse where Carl lay, dead, bleeding on the ground and Brock had staggered to his feet. His eyes were full of questions and she wanted nothing more than to stop and make sure he was all right, but she couldn’t let Angela get away. “She got out! She’s leaving!”

Olivia sprinted to the front door and pushed against it. Locked, also! If she had to guess, it was probably locked with some kind of safety mechanism to keep Olivia and Brock from taking flight once they had trapped them inside.

There’s got to be a way.

Olivia quickly searched the door, finding a deadbolt attached to the top corner. They wouldn’t have found it in the dark, but she found it rather quickly in the light of the warehouse. She reached up, clicked the lock into place and swung the door open.

Gravel scattered like the wake of a retreating boat as Alasdair’s red sports car sped out of the driveway. Tires screamed as they made impact with the pavement and the car fishtailed before Angela managed to get it under control. Olivia’s feet thumped to a stop, despair hanging over her as the tail lights retreated. She could rush to her car, but by the time she got into it, Angela would be gone. It was better to raise the alarm. Carl had said he’d made up a lie about having the police on his side, so she could trust the local police.

She rushed back inside the warehouse, brushing past where Brock leaned against a pile of totes that Olivia hadn’t gotten to yet. “Angela got away.” She threw herself down beside Carl’s body and riffled through his pockets, finding her cell phone right away. She punched in a few numbers and held the phone to her ear.

“This is Agent Olivia Knight.” She rattled off the location of the warehouse and the situation in sentences so rapid that she hoped the dispatcher could hear. Once she relayed the right information to the right people, she hung up the phone and sat back on her heels.

It was over. It was all over. They had survived. But Brock was still shot and bleeding.

She straightened to her feet, her eyes going straight to Brock’s bleeding side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” He lifted his shirt to reveal a nice streak that gashed through his side. “The bullet just nicked me, I’m okay.” He lowered his shirt with a grimace, gazing into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Was she? She didn’t care about herself. She threw herself into his arms, being careful to avoid the side that was wounded and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him with all of the adrenaline, passion and fear of losing him that she’d been fighting since he was gunned down. He’d saved her life. By pushing her out of the way and into the line of fire for himself, he’d made sure she lived to see the next sunrise. She savored the feel of his warm lips against hers, not dead, not taken down by the gunman, the true mastermind of whatever operation had trafficked those teens. He held her against him, returning her kiss with vigor before pulling her back. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Olivia reached up, stroking his face gently as he gazed lovingly into his eyes. “I am now.”

“The showdown at the warehouse has become quite the talk of the town.” Billy Carter told Olivia and Brock, who were seated across from him at his desk. The chaotic workspace piled high with paperwork clashed with the quiet of the office, where not even the sounds of the outside traffic could be heard through the wall. “No one heard anything. They were all either sleeping with their AC on full blast or watching action shows on TV. The house nearest to the warehouse was vacant at the time. So that’s why no one came based on the gunshots or the screams. I think the Schmidts were counting on that.”

Olivia threw a glance at Brock sitting beside her. His shirt covered the bandage around his waist, concealing the wound in his side where the bullet had grazed him. He had been released that morning and with nothing else to do, he and Olivia planned to leave tomorrow morning after one more night to rest and wind down from the climactic way the case had turned out. “It would have been nice if someone would have heard something and called 911.” She forced a laugh. Finding Brock’s hand under the desk, she slipped her fingers into his and squeezed his hand, gently. “But it all turned out well.”

“The people of Cape Fremont haven’t seen this type of excitement in years. It’ll surely be something that goes down in history that this small little town had two visitors come down, only to be heroes in stopping a trafficking ring in its tracks.”

“We’re just doing our job,” Brock replied with his usual, easygoing smile. The meds he was on numbed the pain just enough for his humor to return and he hadn’t stopped since they left the hospital. Olivia was glad about that. She had been faced with the horrible fear that she’d never be able to hear his jokes or his humor again, but here he was. She squeezed his hand one more time under the desk, feeling the warmth of his squeeze back.

The ringing of the sheriff’s phone cut into the quiet of the office, so startling that it reminded Olivia of the gunshots in the warehouse. He reached for his phone, holding up a finger. “Sorry, one minute.”

Olivia pressed her lips together and shrugged. “We’re not leaving until tomorrow, anyway.”

Carter held the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He paused, his eyes sweeping over the surface of his desk in deep thought that pressed a frown to his face. “I thought so. Thank you for that. I’ll pass this along to them.”

To them? Olivia got the feeling he was talking about her and Brock. Which she hoped he was. There was still one loose end to tie up. She hated that she hadn’t been able to go after Angela because of the locked doors and not getting to the car in time. They had put out an alert on the red sports car, but as far as Olivia had heard, nothing had been found.

Carter hung the phone up and turned to face them, both. “That was the coroner. He’s a friend of mine, he’s got some information for you. Last night, a tourist passing through the highway called in a rollover on the freeway headed to Charleston along the coast. The rollover was a sports car. It was called in around eight this morning.”

Olivia’s eyes widened, the new information intriguing her. “A sports car?”

“Was it Alasdair’s?” Brock followed up with the question.

Carter volleyed his gaze between them both as he answered. “VIN and registration match. We had to go by the DMV records because, by the time the car was found this morning, there was nothing left. Something happened and the car went off the road and burnt to a crisp with a victim inside.”

Olivia stifled a small gasp. “Was it Angela?”

“I had the coroner run a thorough examination. Called in a favor and told him I needed the results ASAP. The body found in the car was nearly unidentifiable, but he did manage to get some evidence off of it. The victim was female. There was a bullet wound in the victim’s right hand.”

“That’s consistent with Olivia’s shot.” Brock squeezed her hand again, a subtle way to remind her how impressed he was with her taking down the two villains just like that. Olivia hadn’t expected them to find Angela dead, though.

Carter went on. “We also found ID in the car. The ID belonged to Angela Schmidt. The woman found in the burnt sports car is your victim. She’s dead.”

Before Olivia could breathe a sigh of relief, she gave the right of way to her doubts. “He’s absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely. With the gunshot wound in her hand, the woman was the same height and weight and her ID was in her wallet next to the victim. She went off the road and for some reason, we’re still investigating, but the car burst into flames.”

“So, that’s it then.” Brock stared in wonder at the man. “The trafficking ring is finished. Over, and done.”

“It appears that way, yes.” Carter nodded. “I can’t thank you two enough. We had no idea there were this many people involved. Sure, the townspeople tossed around the word ‘trafficking,’ but they were more inclined to believe it was some kind of teen cult that was causing these kids to go missing. Never in a million years would anyone have suspected a teacher, a waitress and three people who come here on vacation occasionally to be the ones behind such a huge operation. But now that it’s over and done with, the people of Cape Fremont can breathe freely again.”

“Like Brock said,” Olivia let that satisfaction spread through her. They’d done it. They’d cracked this case, taken down two deadly people and a third was in prison. She summed it all up with one phrase: “We’re just doing our job.”

The rain gave way to sunshine, a beautiful day beaming down on Cape Fremont. Olivia and Brock kept their pace casual as they left the sheriff’s office. Olivia tried not to let the victory they had go to her head, but she couldn’t deny the rush of delight it gave her to solve a case and solve it well. “Well. Are you ready to get back to the hotel and pack up?” She paused at the driver’s door.

Brock winced a bit as he opened the door, but replaced it with a smile as soon as he could. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” He slid into the front seat of the car, taking his own sweet time. Pain medicine could only do so much against a gunshot nick that was traumatic enough as it was.

They didn’t say much on the ride back to the hotel. Case or not, Olivia admitted that she was going to miss this little town. Even the packed two-lane road that slithered through historic downtown. The buildings reminded her of early colonial architecture, the people seemed to be a blast from the past, living in a mindset of about fifty years ago: running on the beach, surfing, and generally happy in their lives. Out of everything, Olivia would miss the beach the most. The ocean wasn’t something she got to see every day and the little community she had come to know during her stay here, between meals at Breakers or hotel staff right on the coastal front, she would find herself missing it. Returning to Belle Grove sounded appealing to her, with the word “home” ringing true and delightful to her, but there was always that dejection of leaving a town like this behind at first.

“I love how the town is called Cape Fremont.” She emphasized the “free” in the name.

Brock turned to face her, ripping his gaze from the window where he, too, was probably reminiscing on how it would be difficult to leave this quaint town behind. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I know that we can’t take down every trafficking ring in the world.” Olivia gritted her teeth. “I wish we could. But we successfully took down one. And that means, no more missing kids.”

“Yeah, we know that there were probably more from some other towns, somewhere. There’s no way Cape Fremont was the only one.” Brock sighed. “I only wish we could find every last one of them.”

“Me too.” It was the one thing about taking down a trafficking ring. What about the teens who didn’t make it? Olivia gripped the steering wheel, forcing herself to only look at the positive. “But now the teens of this town are officially free.”

“Cape Free-mont.” Brock chuckled. “I get it now. Very cheesy, Olivia.”

“Hey.” She shrugged, slowly, working out the tension in her muscles. “It works, though. You have to admit.”

“It does.” He was silent for a long time until Olivia turned up the street where the ocean came into view. “I wish every case was like this.”

“So do I.”

“Maybe without the gunshot wound, though.”

“I was about to say…”

They pulled into the quaint little hotel for the last time and went directly to their room. Once their bags were packed and everything was set in order except for what they needed for their last night here, Brock turned to Olivia, that familiar sparkle to his eye. He threw a quick glance down to his watch, then back up to her with boyish playfulness. “You know, we’re heading out in the morning.”

“Right?” Olivia returned his grin.

“And we have been doing nothing but working this case since we arrived here.”

Olivia laughed. “Again, what we were assigned to do.”

Brock approached her. “Well, now the case is over. And we have some time to spend. What do you say to one more ride out onto the ocean? On a boat, just you and me? This time, for real and not undercover.”

“Hmm.” Olivia tilted her head, pretending to give it some thought. After a few beats, she smiled up at him. “I say yes.”

The sun was just going down on the small little town of Cape Fremont. Olivia stood with Brock at the back of a small boat, driven by an older man who seemed to enjoy being out on the ocean more than his business. The peace in his eyes as he spun the boat out onto the ocean waves equaled more happiness than the tour charge that kept his lights on. He kept his gaze out on the ocean, leaving Olivia and Brock to themselves at the back of the small boat. As it coasted along the shoreline, drifting up and down with the waves, Olivia let the sea breeze play with her hair, running fingers of cool saltwater breezes through each strand. There was nothing like the ocean wind on her face and the man she loved beside her.

The sun hid behind the hills, catching the cirrus clouds that painted the entire sky on fire with a hue of magenta pink that couldn’t be duplicated. The pink turned everything around them into a hue that matched the clouds, absorbing them into the fading light.

Brock slipped an arm around her and she nestled into his side, overlooking the waves and leaning her head into his shoulder. There was nowhere in the world that she’d rather be than right there in his embrace. “You know, I never got a chance to properly thank you.”

“For what?” Brock nestled his face closer to hers, still watching the ocean and the sunset.

Olivia looked up to search his eyes. “For saving my life. Again.”

“Pfft.” He blew it off as if it were nothing. “After everything we’ve been through, you don’t need to thank me for it. The possibility of saving your life is a daily occurrence in our job. You do it for me. I do it for you. It’s only fair.”

“It’s not just that.” Olivia turned to face him and he did the same, standing nose to nose at the railing with the backdrop of a magnificent sunset behind them. With all of the genuine love and honesty in the world, she looked up into his eyes and let her smile take over her face. She reached up, stroking his jawline with affectionate fingers. He gave in to the moment, leaning forward and gently kissing her. The boat rocked underneath them, bringing another calm to the moment, and Olivia kissed him back, relishing in the joy that it gave her. When she broke away, she gazed into his eyes once more. “I’m so glad to have you with me, Brock. You’ve made my life so much better by being in it.”

He smiled again and turned her around to finish off watching the sunset. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her stomach, drawing her close against him, and murmured in her ear, “So have you.”

One Week Later

It was hard to work through the suffocation of heartbreak. After losing Alasdair, who was everything to her, Mila found herself quite unable to function, not knowing what to do with the constant heartache that consumed her. It was hard to breathe, let alone work, but even more crushing was the thought that she had led six teens to their doom.

When the honeymooning couple who said they were with the FBI had told her what Alasdair was into, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe it at first. It seemed so surreal, like a nightmare or something. But the more she went about her day, the little things reminded her that, yes, this was real. She couldn’t call him. His phone number had been disconnected and his phone was probably in an evidence locker, somewhere. He, himself, was locked up somewhere near where they’d arrested him. And the newspapers? Oh, they made her stomach churn.

Local teacher in cahoots with trafficker, Alasdair Crosby.

Alana Fleming. Someone who considered herself to be in love with Alasdair, meaning that he’d played her, too. So her sweet dreams of romance and exclusivity were nothing but a patsy. He’d played her! And she fell for it.

How could she ever look Susanna in the eyes again? She couldn’t. She’d quit her job at Breakers and figure out some way to fight this legal battle that she was now entangled with because of what she had done. She had gone in, turned in her resignation at Breakers and received a cold glance of indifference as a result. Not because she was quitting. But because of the reputation that now stained her, wherever she went.

She lost everything she loved. Her job at Breakers. Her small hometown; she couldn’t stay here. And the man she thought she loved.

She rubbed her hand over her tattoo. She was going to use her last paycheck to remove that stupid thing from her arm. How could she have been so dumb? And how could she have helped this despicable human being take down innocent teenagers and sell them into something so horrible, that she didn’t want to think about it?

The parking lot was getting dark. She preferred to travel at night when the chances of running into a photographer or anyone who recognized her were slim. Her apartment complex towered above her and she had opted to park in the back where no one could see her car and know she was home. Even though that meant walking through the alleyway to get to her apartment. She wasn’t going to be here much longer, anyway.

She started toward her apartment but caught the sound of someone behind her. She turned and stifled a gasp. Her eyes went wide as a man approached her, a smile playing across his lips. She’d never seen him before in her life, but he seemed to know her very well. Especially when his lips moved and a cold voice hovered just enough for her to hear.

“Hello, Mila.”

Her anxiety skyrocketed and she couldn’t find the energy to turn and run from this guy who seemed to know her so very well.

A sudden, unexplained pain followed a gunshot muffled by a silencer that no one else in the apartment complex could hear.

Thank you for reading THE RUNAWAY GIRLS, and welcome back to the Olivia Knight FBI Series! After stepping away to explore the world of Serenity Springs—where we loved introducing you to Birdie and showcasing her growth and incredible skills—we couldn’t wait to bring you back to Olivia and Brock’s journey. Your outstanding support for both series has always been nothing short of inspiring, and we hope this latest adventure kept you engaged from start to finish. This book is the start of an exciting new chapter for the series, filled with fresh twists, gripping stories, and surprises we can’t wait for you to experience!

As indie writers, we rely heavily on the support and feedback from readers like you. If you enjoyed THE RUNAWAY GIRLS, please consider leaving a review. Your reviews make a significant difference, helping us reach more readers without a big marketing budget or a massive following.

As Olivia and Brock dive into new challenges, PI Bridget "Birdie" Hartley’s journey in Serenity Springs is far from over, with her latest case unfolding in THE GIRL IN THE CABIN. Birdie faces a storm—both literal and figurative—after her sister’s disappearance leads her to a cabin full of dark secrets. With danger lurking around every corner and a murderer on the loose, it’s a nail-biting, heart-racing journey that will keep you guessing until the very end!

Thank you for your continued support, and we can't wait to take you on more exceptional adventures with Olivia and Brock!

By the way, if you find any typos, have suggestions, or just simply want to reach out to us, feel free to email us at egray@ellegraybooks.com

Your writer friends,

Elle Gray & K.S. Gray

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Blake Wilder FBI Mystery Thrillers

Book One - The 7 She Saw

Book Two - A Perfect Wife

Book Three - Her Perfect Crime

Book Four - The Chosen Girls

Book Five - The Secret She Kept

Book Six - The Lost Girls

Book Seven - The Lost Sister

Book Eight - The Missing Woman

Book Nine - Night at the Asylum

Book Ten - A Time to Die

Book Eleven - The House on the Hill

Book Twelve - The Missing Girls

Book Thirteen - No More Lies

Book Fourteen- The Unlucky Girl

Book Fifteen - The Heist

Book Sixteen - The Hit List

Book Seventeen - The Missing Daughter

Book Eighteen - The Silent Threat

Book Nineteen - A Code to Kill

Book Twenty - Watching Her

Book Twenty-One - The Inmate’s Secret

Book Twenty-Two - A Motive to Kill

Book Twenty- Three - The Kept Girls

Book Twenty- Four - Prison Break

Book Twenty- Five - The Perfect Crime

Book Twenty- Six - A Shot to Kill

A Pax Arrington Mystery

Free Prequel - Deadly Pursuit

Book One - I See You

Book Two - Her Last Call

Book Three - Woman In The Water

Book Four- A Wife’s Secret

Storyville FBI Mystery Thrillers

Book One - The Chosen Girl

Book Two - The Murder in the Mist

Book Three - Whispers of the Dead

Book Four - Secrets of the Unseen

Book Five - The Way Back Home

A Sweetwater Falls Mystery

Book One - New Girl in the Falls

Book Two - Missing in the Falls

Book Three - The Girls in the Falls

Book Four - Memories of the Falls

Book Five - Shadows of the Falls

Book Six - The Lies in the Falls

Book Seven - Forbidden in the Falls

Book Eight - Silenced in the Falls

Book Nine - Summer in the Falls

Book Ten- The Legend of the Falls

Book Eleven - Whispers in the Falls

A Chesapeake Valley Mystery Series

Book One - The Girl in Town

Book Two - The Lost Children

Book Three - The Secrets We Bury

Olivia Knight FBI Mystery Thrillers

Book One - New Girl in Town

Book Two - The Murders on Beacon Hill

Book Three - The Woman Behind the Door

Book Four - Love, Lies, and Suicide

Book Five - Murder on the Astoria

Book Six - The Locked Box

Book Seven - The Good Daughter

Book Eight - The Perfect Getaway

Book Nine - Behind Closed Doors

Book Ten - Fatal Games

Book Eleven - Into the Night

Book Twelve - The Housewife

Book Thirteen - Whispers at the Reunion

Book Fourteen - Fatal Lies

A Serenity Springs Mystery Series

Book One - New Girl in the Springs

Book Two - The Maid of Honor

Book Three - The Girl in the Cabin

The Florida Girl FBI Mystery Thrillers

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