Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Kate was home, locked in with her two remaining girls and a rotating pair of deputies outside the door. Huck had taken over command for the morning, splitting personnel into new search zones. Still nothing. No calls. No demands. No Viv.
Just a sixteen-year-old girl somewhere out there in the dark with a possible attack coming.
Gathering herself, Laurel strode down the hallway and stopped at the conference room, where two broad male Seattle FBI agents with buzz cuts and sharp eyes took point with Dr. Bertra Yannish sitting across the table, scrolling on her phone. Apparently they’d allowed her to get dressed because she wore jeans and a light purple sweater with her blond hair up in a ponytail.
She looked up. “This is an outrage. I was interviewed by a bulldog of an FBI agent for two hours. I shouldn’t still be here.”
Norrs had questioned her and then headed out to help with the search after hitting a stone wall, as he’d put it over the phone. Laurel pulled out a chair and sat. “Where is your other lab? Speak now, or you’ll go to prison for the rest of your life.”
Bertra’s eyes narrowed. “What lab?”
“Don’t lie to me. You know Viv heard you talk about it, and now you’ve orchestrated her kidnapping. Where is John Fitz, anyway?” Apparently he hadn’t been at home or the office, and he lived alone. His phone hadn’t pinged a location either. So it must be off.
“I have no idea.” Bertra tapped her nails on the glass. Nervousness? Maybe.
“Excuse me.” Henry Vexler strode inside, rubbing his hands together as if he’d just washed them. Had he been in the bathroom? “You can’t interview my client without me.” He didn’t sit.
Bertra smiled, her lipstick flawless, her eyes sharp enough to cut through wire. “I called my attorney, of course. I’m not happy I’m paying him nine hundred dollars an hour to sit here.” She leaned slightly toward Laurel, voice low and full of weaponized calm. “I have no idea where Viv is, and I’d tell you if I did.”
Laurel didn’t blink. “Where’s Fitz?”
Bertra gave a casual shrug, like she was bored already. “How in the hell would I know? It’s after hours and I don’t expect to see him until later today. In the office. Where we work.”
Beside her, Vexler in his expensive suit, polished shoes, and the constant air of courtroom smugness, sighed with exaggerated patience. “Agent Snow, we’re very sorry there’s a missing girl, but my client doesn’t know anything about the situation. You have zero reason to hold her. She’s not a suspect or a witness. So either stop this right now or I’ll file a motion, and it’ll be public. Very.”
Laurel could not care less about public.
“Your client hired Viv as an intern,” she said, voice cool but laced with the anger she barely kept in check. “Viv overheard her discussing a secret lab. I believe your client had her kidnapped. I also believe your client is involved in the deaths of people with fatal brain lesions we traced back to compounds developed at Oakridge Solutions. And we have credible intel suggesting a bio-attack will occur soon.”
Kind of. Not really. Not enough.
But God, she needed it to be enough.
Vexler gave her a tired smile. “Arrest my client or let her go. You have nothing specific tying her to the abduction. You know it. I know it.”
And he was right.
Laurel’s chest burned with the truth.
Bertra stood, graceful and smug. She gave Laurel a slight nod, like they were adversaries in some corporate chess match and not standing on the ruins of a missing girl’s future.
“You want to get in front of this,” Laurel said sharply, rising. “Now.”
Vexler smirked. “I do appreciate your tenacity. You remind me of your sister.”
Laurel didn’t flinch, but anger rushed through her, making her ears heat.
“I wish you luck in finding the girl,” he added smoothly, and turned toward the door with Bertra beside him.
Laurel watched them go, fury boiling under her skin. She leaned forward, hands braced on the table, the fight draining out of her legs. She felt raw, cornered, and two steps behind. The only thing worse than not having enough to hold Bertra was knowing she was dirty and having to let her walk anyway.
Laurel’s eyes burned. She pressed the heel of her hand against them, once. That was all she’d give it.
Where was Viv?
They had surveillance, yes, but no faces. No license plates. She had officers sweeping the neighborhoods and canvassing every parking lot. The drones hadn’t found heat signatures worth chasing.
Laurel turned and looked at the boards filled with names, numbers, possible connections, and none of it giving her what she needed.
Her jaw clenched until her teeth ached.
She wasn’t losing this girl.
Shaking herself, she stood and walked down the hallway and stairs, intending to go into the Fish and Wildlife offices, which had become a central hub for the investigation since it had more square footage. She stepped into the vestibule and ran right into Tim Kohnex. His dog sat over by the door, yawning. “I don’t have time for you.”