Chapter Four #3
“It’s from the training facility. It’s black and has a green logo. See? It’s Colson and the team looking for the vehicle that belonged to the men from this morning.”
They rolled past the SUV, and she turned her head to see the faces of the men in the front. They pulled out and followed them.
This day seemed endless already. So much had happened, and it wasn’t over yet.
When they stopped at the site, the driver walked up to Hawk’s window. He was tall and rugged in all the right ways, with the kind of weathered strength built for Wyoming.
Hawk climbed out, and Colson gave him a nod. “We’ll do the sweep. I’ll check in when we find the vehicle.”
When. Not if.
His confidence should have comforted her, but she was even more on edge as she and Hawk began pulling out supplies. He handed her gloves, and she slipped them on. Then he grabbed a shovel and they set off toward the area she started marking out that morning.
Her father’s instructions were precise, and she paced the area where the ridge bent. Hawk stayed close behind her, barely making a sound.
She loved her father, but they didn’t have an easy father-daughter relationship. She considered this the last thing she could ever do for him…and then she’d be free.
She counted under her breath. “Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight.”
She stopped.
The air felt different here. That sounded ridiculous, but it did.
As if the ground knew it was keeping a secret.
“This is it.”
Hawk didn’t question her. He only took the shovel and began digging.
The first few minutes were made of dirt, roots and the harsh scrape of metal cutting into packed earth. Sinead helped where she could, clearing loose soil with gloved hands, her heartbeat climbing with every inch they uncovered.
Then the shovel struck something solid.
The sound rang through her.
Hawk froze.
Sinead stopped breathing.
He crouched and worked more carefully, clearing the earth away until the shape emerged.
A box.
For one suspended moment, neither of them moved.
Then Hawk lifted it free and set it between them. It wasn’t large or ornate. Just metal darkened by age and sealed tight enough to survive years in the ground.
Her hands trembled as she brushed dirt from the top. The box looked far too ordinary to have dragged her across the country and pulled her into danger.
Hawk gave her a nod, and she opened it.
Inside was an envelope.
Her throat tightened as she reached for it. The paper was protected in plastic, dry and intact. Her father would have thought of that. Of course he would have.
She opened the envelope and pulled out an index card.
A link was written across it.
That was all. Just a link.
Sinead stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Hawk leaned closer. “What is it?”
“A link.”
“To what?”
“I guess we’re about to find out.”
She pulled out her phone and typed it in carefully, checking every character twice. The page loaded slowly, and then a file appeared.
A PDF.
Password protected.
Of course it was.
She let out a humorless laugh. “No idea what the password is.”
Hawk crouched beside her, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed hers. “There’s no clue?”
She looked back at the index card. Her gaze moved past the link to the line written beneath it.
Her chest tightened at the sight of her father’s words.
The day I was never more proud of you.
Hawk arched a brow. “Awards?”
Her throat was suddenly thick. Her father’s praise had been rare.
“No. That’s not it.” She stared at the words harder, as if she could force them to rearrange into an answer.
What had her father been proudest of her for? School events. Riding lessons. The charity gala where she gave that speech without throwing up on the podium. The time she told off a board member twice her age because he spoke to a waitress like she was subhuman.
She pressed her fingers to her temple. “There was a youth equestrian thing, but he was out of the country. And the foundation dinner when I was seventeen, but that was more about not embarrassing the family.”
Hawk looked at her like she’d just started speaking another language. He studied her for a beat, then said, “The lion in Kenya?”
She gave him a flat look. “No. And it wouldn’t be rescuing you from a snake…”
Hawk returned the flat look. “So we ruled out the usual.”
Despite everything, a laugh almost broke through despite her nerves.
He shifted closer, his voice quieter. “Is there a time he surprised you with his reaction? Like you thought you were in big trouble, but didn’t get punished?”
The question hit a memory she hadn’t considered.
Sinead went still.
Snow. Cold air. Blue sky. Her father’s face when he finally found her.
Not angry.
Not what she’d expected.
Her breath caught. “March fifteenth.”
Hawk watched her, waiting.
“I was found in the Swiss Alps.”
His brows drew together. “Found?”
“I wasn’t rescued. I wasn’t in danger.” She swallowed, the memory opening in bright, ridiculous detail. “I was spinning like Maria Von Trapp singing ‘Climb Every Mountain.’”
Hawk stared at her.
“What? I was eleven.”
He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes shifted.
Sinead typed the date with stiff fingers.
315
The PDF opened.