CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
JAKE
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“Here. Stop. Right there.” Thomas says. “Watch this.”
I lift my soda, taking a sip while keeping my eyes on the screen. Ryder, Liam and Josh stand around me watching the same thing—Brad in his office on his computer.
Past Brad—footage we’ve recorded over the past week or so.
“Your wife put the cameras in the perfect place,” Thomas adds, and with a pen he points to a section of the screen. “We can see he logs into a secure platform after connecting to the dark web.”
“He’s smart,” Ryder mutters, one hand rubbing his jaw.
One of Thomas’ team members zooms into the messaging and screen grabs something so we can get a better view of what they’re showing us.
It’s coded language, but I’ve seen this stuff before over the years and especially during my time with NCMEC.
Brad Thornton is trafficking children.
His patients.
Or should I say Teddy Bear, as he’s signed off. The sick fuck.
My stomach turns and by the look of the faces around me, I’m not alone.
“He’s our guy.” Josh curses, and we all murmur our disgusted agreement. “Aside from this footage, which we can’t provide to the feds as evidence, have we been able to trace his IP?”
Thomas shakes his head.
“No, it keeps bouncing from one offshore address to another. He knows what he’s doing.”
I simply nod, unsurprised.
None of these perpetrators go into a business like this unprepared. These organizations are sophisticated and have a huge amount of investment to protect them.
That we connected the dots via Caylee is a complete coincidence and a fuck ton of luck.
Thomas shares more about what he and the team have been able to learn after watching hours of footage, and Liam and I do the same. We split the data and sat for hours in front of screens.
My neck is not happy.
But this is half the job.
“Any mention of Louisa?” Ryder asks.
“No. We haven’t been able to get into his system, only view what the cameras show us.” Thomas sighs. “Poor kid.”
The room goes silent for a moment, the responsibility of finding her heavy on all of us. Even though we know the changes are extremely low.
Every day I have to let Caylee walk into that building with that monster and pretend it's fine. She might not be a target, but that doesn’t mean she’s completely safe.
If things progress as they are, she’s going to be shocked when she learns who Brad really is. As will his wife, his kids and everyone else in his life.
I’ve seen it before.
People defending someone they’ve known for years, or all their life, unable to accept the truth despite an abundance of facts.
The truth is, monsters live among us. Most of the time, law enforcement and military protect everyday people from being exposed to it.
But that’s getting harder.
Why? Social media is part of it, but I think these monsters are getting greedier. There is a growing population of broken people doing terrible things.
Walking amongst us.
I mean, a fucking dentist.
They’re one of the most trusted professions, along with vets, nurses and schoolteachers. Way above politicians...if that even needed to be said.
“Jesus, this guy is literally lining up kids to be snatched off the sidewalk after he’s finished getting thousands off their parents for braces.” I rub my forehead. “How long has he been doing it?”
“My guess, since the kids in the area started going missing. Around a year.” Josh walks closer to the screen. “He may have committed other crimes, but he has a clean record.”
These sorts of criminals can go unchecked for decades. They grow up with narcissistic (or worse) parents who damage them in multiple ways, creating major traumas.
Then they go out into the world and either get help, heal and hopefully thrive.
Or they become sociopaths.
Simply put...and it’s not that simple.
A mix of narcissism and sociopathic behavior is a dangerous cocktail. They can be charming, blend into society and attract people who adore them. The problem is they lack the ability to feel.
Mostly.
Often they will have one of two people that are important to them, and the attachment or bond will be extreme. They might believe it to be love, and it can be, but psychologists would likely call it dependency.
That person is usually a mother, sibling or lover. Someone useful that they depend on for affection, survival or whatever else they require.
Or they’ve allowed themselves to form a bond.
For survival often.
In other words, they have a purpose.
Void of any compassion.
I wonder what role Caylee plays in Brad’s life and if she is important to him. They work closely every day—not just in the same office. His reaction to me was interesting.
He’s still thinking of kidnapping her.
“From what we know, all he’s doing is trading. He views child porn, but we don’t have any evidence yet that he’s taking part in any pedophilia with these kids,” Liam notes. “Physically.”
“But he could be.” Josh keeps staring at the screen, and I know where his mind has gone when he turns to me.
“I’ll pull her out if I think she’s in danger,” I say firmly.
I mean Caylee.
“And say what?”
I haven’t worked that part out yet.
“Dirty weekend, I don’t know. But she’s not the only person in the office, and every day more and more kids are walking through his door.”
“We need more data.” Ryder walks along the large boardroom wall staring at the large zoomed in images. “Is the system something we recognize? And by we, I mean Thomas.”
He snorts.
“Unfortunately, no. Could be custom-made. Our guys are currently trying to crack it. We will. I just don’t know how long it will take.”
“Feds might know,” Liam says. “We need to update Reed.”
“He’s right.” I glance at Josh. “We can’t assume they shared everything with them. It’s time to loop them in and align our information.”
Josh nods, pulls his phone out and leaves the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the FBI director and POTUS on speed dial.
He pops his head back around the corner. “Jake, get ahold of Cole and update him.”
“Yes, sir.”
A warmth rushes through my chest knowing Caylee’s been adopted as part of the Black Hawke team. She’s Cole’s sister—it’s not because of me—and one of Cassy’s best friends.
She’ll be protected no matter what happens between us.
Thanksgiving weekend was a powerful reminder that we can’t be together. I never want her to be exposed to the miserable drama within my family.
I realized as I drove home that night that if Caylee had been there, I would’ve been furious. Not because she saw any of it, but because it would have spoiled her Thanksgiving. She deserves much more than that.
God knows our children, if we had them, would not be safe with my parents. Not my father. And I don’t want them around that toxic behavior.
Would Caylee even want to marry me and have children if she knew the truth?
Perhaps knowing the answer to that is harder than walking away.
Recently, the light in her eyes has dulled.
I need to release her from this relationship so she can meet someone better suited. Someone who, if she does fall pregnant with, will come with a set of grandparents she can depend on.
Fuck.
I’m so sick of the shame that weighs me down constantly.
Goddamn you, Dad. Why couldn’t you have gotten sober and taken the literal get-out-of-jail-free card I handed you and done something with the rest of your life?
Resentment floods me as I stand, stretching my body.
Nothing has changed.
Not in years.
And it never will.
Once we have Brad Thornton dealt with and I know Caylee is safe, I will do the right thing. I’ll set her free.
I should’ve fucking stayed away.
Cole was right.
“Hey, check this out,” Thomas says, zooming in on an email. Is that...fuck, is that this week’s date?”
We all see it.
“Jesus,” I curse, staring at the message. “He’s trading one of the kids this fucking week.”
“Get Josh back in here,” Ryder growls. “Now!”