30. Chapter Thirty
MATT
Matt had always suspected there was more to the Callaghans than their clan and day jobs. As a member of the family, he was privy to their occasional trips out of Pine Ridge. Always just the brothers, not the wives or kids, although sometimes, Sean’s wife, Nicki, accompanied them.
Now, as a special forces man himself, he could appreciate how well they worked together. They were more than just brothers. More than just former SEALs. They were a cohesive team, totally in sync, each having their own special skills.
Matt wasn’t sure what part he was going to play, only that he and Kieran were going after Eddie. The fucker had been squatting in his grandmother’s place, probably assessing everything he could sell once he got her situated in a nursing home.
A familiar excitement ran beneath Matt’s skin, though outwardly, he was as calm and focused as they were.
They were a team on a mission.
And like so many missions, they hit a snafu right away.
“Anna’s not at the station,” Shane reported over the team satcom sets Ian had handed out. The gear was a little over the top for a county less than a thousand square miles, but there were a lot of dead spots in the mountains, and these guys clearly liked their toys. “County transport picked her up about two hours ago to take her to the women’s correctional facility.”
“So, go there,” Jake said in their ears.
“We did. Anna’s not there either.”
“Then, where the fuck is she?” Matt said.
“They don’t know. Intake suggested I contact the PRPD because the mix-up had to be on their end.”
“Fuck that,” Sean said, chiming in. “Those transport vehicles are equipped with GPS and recovery systems. If we have the vehicle ID number, we can track it and get its location.”
“Already on it,” Ian said from his bank of computers. “I’m running the list of county vehicles through now, and … ah, got it. What the fuck? That’s nowhere near the route to … oh shit.”
“What?”
“According to this, the vehicle is two klicks south of the Valley bridge … in the Tawannock River.”
Kieran hung a U-ey with the skill of a trained race car driver. “Rerouting. We’re half a mile from the bridge.”
“Sending coordinates,” said Ian.
“On our way,” came Sean’s immediate reply.
They followed the coordinates, which led them down an old access road. The once-paved surface was broken and jagged with weeds and scrub jutting up, unchecked. The chain-link fence that had once kept out trespassers came into view, the gates swinging lazily in the breeze.
The old factory that had once operated there had long since been abandoned, a blemish on what would otherwise be a scenic landscape. Nature was sprouting up and around the place, as if trying to hide the eyesore until it could reclaim it.
Kieran drove as close as he could to the riverbank, and then he and Matt were out of the Rover and sprinting toward the water.
“Fuck. Me.”
The back of the van was barely visible, ass-end pointed up and at an angle, as if it were mooning them. The front end was completely submerged.
Sean and Shane arrived as Kieran and Matt made their way down to the water, the slick bank easing their quick descent into the murky water. With tremendous effort, the two of them managed to pry open the door that was only partially underwater.
The river water was brown and muddy with spring thaw runoff from up north, and not even the powerful Maglite was able to penetrate it. Matt tore off his jacket and went in without hesitation. The space was cramped and narrow, and it didn’t take long to confirm Anna wasn’t in there.
Kieran, meanwhile, went under and checked the cab.
“Empty,” Kieran reported as he and Matt climbed out of the water.
Sean and Shane clasped their hands and helped them up.
“Fuck, that’s nasty,” Sean said, wiping the sludge on his pants.
“You good, man?” Shane asked.
Matt nodded, though in truth, he was shaken. The fear of finding Anna secured—and dead—had rocked him to his core. Now, that fear was turning into something else. A realization that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
“While you two were exploring your inner Jacques Cousteau, we found some tracks over here.”
Matt accepted the towel Kieran tossed him and saw what Sean had been referring to. A short distance from where the van had gone in was a flattened area that looked like a teenage party spot. Boards propped atop broken blocks of concrete to form benches. The remains of a fire in a rudimentary pit at one end. Sticks and bottles and wrappers and cans littered the area.
Judging by the state of things, it had been a while since anyone had partied there. But the tire prints on the edge were fresh.
“What happened here?” Shane mused. “A Good Samaritan saw the accident and rendered aid? Or was the ditch and switch the plan all along?”
“The van went rogue, and there were no 911 calls. I think we can rule out the helpful citizen theory,” Kieran said.
Sean crouched and examined the prints. “SUV, based on the width and depth of the tracks. That fucking narrows it down, doesn’t it?” he added with sarcasm. “Seventy-five percent of the county owns an SUV.”
Matt listened to them speak. Half of his brain was on them and what they were saying. The other half was raging, shouting out things like, Find her! Save her! and, Kill every fucker who ever laid a hand on her!
“Someone clearly wanted to get their hands on Anna,” Kieran said.
“The mob?” Sean guessed.
Shane shook his head. “I don’t think so. This whole snatch and grab, it lacks finesse. I don’t think a pro did this.”
“Hmm. Who else do we know who might want Anna out of the way?” Kieran asked.
Matt got back with the program. His voice was deceptively calm when he said, “I think it’s time we paid Eddie that visit.”