Chapter 29
The phone felt heavier than it should have in Brian’s hand.
He stood on the back deck for a moment longer than necessary after ending the call to his brother. Tension rolled off him as his mind raced through what Andy had told him and what they needed to learn and do to rescue Tess. And in the space between those thoughts, something else nagged.
You should’ve done more.
The guilt landed hard and unwelcome—over the SUV she’d mentioned, the follow-up he’d meant to make, and the way his caseload had swallowed the hours before he could. He shoved it down. There would be time for that later.
Right now, he needed answers.
He went back inside, where Andy was pacing the same short strip of floor over and over, as if the house had shrunk to just that space.
The kid’s phone was clenched in his hand, thumb hovering uselessly over the screen.
Every few seconds, he glanced at it, then away again, like he was afraid he might miss the text if he didn’t constantly check for it.
“They’re both coming,” Brian said quietly.
Andy stopped short and nodded. Relief and fear tangled together in his expression.
“Has Diego texted?” He already knew the answer, but asked it anyway to keep himself anchored.
Andy shook his head. “No.”
“Good.” Time mattered, but how they used it mattered more.
He pulled out one of the dining chairs and turned it around, resting his forearms across the back, and forced himself to breathe evenly. Kids read tension like it was a second language, and Andy already had more than enough of it.
The teen returned to his pacing, and Brian watched him for a beat, then asked, “You know your way around systems, right?”
There was a moment of hesitation. “Uh, yeah. I mean... I rerouted Diego’s IP.
That’s all I did.” His words came faster after that.
“I don’t mess with anything once I’m in a system.
I just look around. I like testing my skills—seeing if I can get in.
I don’t steal anything or break stuff.” He winced.
“Okay, technically, the hacking part’s illegal, but that’s all I do. I swear. You’ve got to believe me.”
Brian listened without interrupting. The kid wasn’t bragging—he was trying to draw a line and stay on the right side of it. “I do believe you.”
Andy’s shoulders dropped a fraction.
“But I asked because...” He briefly bit his bottom lip, giving the idea he had a second thought before continuing. “Do you think you could get into the security system at the M.E.’s office? Exterior camera feeds for the parking lot and entrances. I want to see if that’s where Tess was taken.”
He knew what he was asking the kid to do, but he didn’t think they really had a choice.
Going through official channels meant reporting the kidnapping, which came with delays they couldn’t afford and the chance word would reach Diego that the cops were involved.
It was a risk either way. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.
Andy froze at the request. “You think it happened there?” He frowned. “Wouldn’t other people have seen something?”
“Not if it was quick. Tess parks in the employee lot at the back of the building. If no one else was leaving at the same time, it would’ve gone unnoticed.
” He paused. “And if someone had seen it, they would’ve reported it.
That’s why I want to see the camera feeds.
If it happened there, we might be able to ID a vehicle or some of the gang members.
If it happened somewhere else...” He let the rest go unsaid.
He had to run this like any other investigation. One critical step at a time.
Andy swallowed. “I can get in—unless it’s an internal system with no remote access or something heavily guarded, like a federal core system.”
“It’s neither of those. In fact, it’s an older setup. They’ve been talking about upgrading it for years.”
Relief and confidence flashed across the kid’s face. “Then I can do it without tripping any alarms or leaving any footprints behind. No problem.”
Brian exhaled slowly. “Good. Get to it.”
Andy didn’t hesitate. Grabbing his laptop from the couch, he dropped into a chair at the dining table, shoulders hunching as his focus narrowed.
Fear seemed to burn off, replaced by something sharper.
His fingers flew over the keys, movements quick and sure.
Brian stayed close, standing just behind his shoulder, eyes flickering between the screen, the back door, and a clock on the wall by the kitchen.
“Got it. I’m in.”
Brian blinked. That was... fast. “Already?”
Andy nodded, his eyes locked on the screen. “Older systems are low-hanging fruit.”
“Huh?”
That earned him a snort. “Means it was easy.”
“Ah.” He stared at the screen as the camera list populated, one after another. Andy skimmed them with practiced efficiency, scrolling without hesitation.
“Look for the one labeled rear parking lot or employee lot—something like that,” Brian instructed.
“Here it is.” Andy clicked on the folder, and a live feed filled the screen—grainy, but steady. The lot was mostly empty—only a few vehicles remained, including Tess’s. Long shadows stretched across the pavement. “Looks like we can just rewind from here.”
“Go back to four-fifteen.”
“She texted me at four-twenty-eight. I checked it again while you were outside.”
“Then give it a little cushion in case she was already outside when she texted,” Brian said. “Four-twenty-five.”
Andy dragged the timeline back, the footage ticking down minute by minute. He pressed “Play” at the correct time, and they both watched with bated breath.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Tess entered the frame on foot, walking toward her car, with her purse tucked under her arm. She looked tired, distracted—done with her day.
Brian leaned closer, his chest tightening. This is it.
When she was halfway across the lot, digging into her purse, probably for her keys, a white van tore into view from the far entrance—too fast for the narrow aisle. Tess jerked sideways as it cut sharply across the frame and braked beside her, its bulk blocking the camera’s view of her.
All Brian could do was watch helplessly as seconds ticked by. His pulse slammed in his ears.
Suddenly, the van lurched forward again and accelerated out of frame. Tess was gone, leaving only the space where she’d stood and her car waiting in the background.
Andy’s breath caught. “She just... disappeared.”
“Back it up to right before it speeds off.” Brian calmly slipped back into investigator mode. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions get the best of him. Tess needed him to be clear-headed. “Play it again in slow-mo.”
Andy rewound the footage, then let it go forward, frame by frame. Brian tracked the van’s departure again. “Stop it right there! Can you zoom in on the plate?”
“No problem.”
The image sharpened just enough to make out the license plate beneath the rear bumper. Brian memorized it, every number locking into place, then stepped away—putting distance between himself and the screen before the moment Tess vanished burned itself too deep.
He found the contact he needed on his phone, thumb hovering for a fraction of a second before he hit Call.
Focus. Precision over panic. Detachment over everything else. It was difficult, but Tess’s life was on the line.
After two rings, the call connected.
“SBI dispatch. How can I help you?” The voice was familiar.
“Susan? This is Special Agent Brian Malone,” he said, moving toward the window, his eyes scanning the darkening yard out of habit more than need. He rattled off his badge number to verify his identity. “I need you to run a North Carolina plate. It just came up in an investigation.”
“Sure. What’s the number?”
“Echo. Romeo. November. Five, nine, seven, two.”
A pause, and then the faint sound of keys clicking on the other end.
Behind him, Andy sat frozen at the table, hands clenched tightly in his lap as he stared at the laptop like it might change if he looked hard enough.
“Plate comes back to a stolen white Ford Transit,” the dispatcher said. “Camden PD reported it two days ago.”
Brian closed his eyes briefly. Of course it was stolen. “Any recent hits?”
“Negative.” Another pause. “Do you have eyes on the vehicle now, Agent Malone?”
He wished like hell he did. “No.”
“Do you want a BOLO put out?”
For a split second, he pictured the ripple effect—alerts going out, radios lighting up, and the news traveling faster than it should. He couldn’t risk it.
“No. Not yet. Just let me know immediately if you get any hits on it. Thanks.”
He ended the call and stood there for a moment, grounding himself. Andy looked up at him. Pale. Shaken. But holding it together. The kid had delivered when it mattered.
“Good work,” Brian said. “You did exactly what I needed.”
“At least we know what he took her in.”
He nodded. The stolen plate wasn’t necessarily a dead end—it was a direction. A narrowing of the field. Something solid to work with.
“Yeah.” He was already shifting gears, mapping the next steps he needed to take to rescue Tess. “And now we start closing the distance.”