Chapter Three #2
In the distance, Alena heard the faint wail of sirens.
The EMTs probably. Good. The sooner Arneson was medically cleared, the sooner Raines could get him to the station for an official interview.
Of course, Raines would also have to report this break-in, and maybe the CSIs could figure out if it’d actually happened or if all of this had been staged.
Raines finished the pat-down with brisk efficiency. “She’s clean,” he said, stepping back. He slid his weapon into a ready but lowered position. “Keep an eye on both of them. I’ll meet the EMTs out front.”
Alena gave a short nod. Cal stayed silent, his stance solid at her side, eyes sharp on Kara.
The moment Raines disappeared through the doorway, Kara turned on Arneson. “What happened to you?” Her gaze swept over his bruised jaw, the cut still leaking from his temple.
Arneson shifted uncomfortably, wincing as though the words themselves stung. “Dexter did this,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you what I’ve already told them. He’s desperate. He panicked.”
Kara’s face went pale, then flushed with anger. “No. He wouldn’t hit you. He wouldn’t hurt his own brother. What game are you playing?”
Arneson’s eyes slid away, his jaw clamping shut.
Before Alena could press him, the front door opened. The EMTs strode inside, carrying their gear. They moved straight to Arneson, their focus already locked on the man slumped in the chair.
Alena kept her weapon lowered but ready, her eyes never leaving Kara.
Kara snapped toward Raines. “Where’s Dexter? Did you find him yet? Is he hurt?” Her voice sharpened with every question, rising in pitch.
Raines gave her a steady look but didn’t answer. Cal stayed silent, watchful. Alena felt her patience thinning with every word.
When Kara realized no one was going to tell her what she wanted to hear, she huffed and turned on Alena and Cal. The glare that she leveled at them was pure accusation.
“I know who you are,” Kara spat out. “You’re the ones who framed Dexter. You nearly killed him during your so-called arrest.”
Anger surged hot and sharp through Alena, choking her chest. She still carried the scars from that night. David’s brain injury had changed every single day since. To hear this woman twist the truth into devotion for a monster made Alena’s blood roar in her ears.
Cal shifted closer, reading her in an instant.
Before the words could rip free from Alena’s throat, his hand closed gently but firmly around her arm.
Without a word, he guided her out of the kitchen and into the dining room, the room still littered with overturned chairs and scattered papers.
He didn’t pull her against him, but his hand stayed on her arm, a steady anchor holding her in place.
His eyes searched hers, and he groaned softly. “I know this is why you avoid me,” he said. His voice was low, certain. “I’m not talking about what Kara just spewed. I know you think of that night every time you look at me.”
Alena’s chest tightened. He was right. She did. The images were always there, burned into her. But she wasn’t about to let him shoulder it alone.
“The same’s true for you,” she said. “You lost so much during that op in the warehouse.”
Their gazes locked and held, a current moving between them that neither looked away from. Memories rose, sharper than ever. Heat stirred, unsettling and undeniable.
Then Cal’s phone rang, the sound cutting hard through the moment. He pulled his hand back and reached for it. The connection between them snapped, and the moment was gone.
Cal pulled his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned. “It’s dispatch,” he said. He put it on speaker and answered.
“This is Crossfire Ops dispatch,” a voice said. “I’ve got a call I’m putting through to you.”
There was a click, then silence.
“Hello?” Cal said.
The line crackled. A woman’s voice came through, shaky but clear enough. “Cal. It’s Melissa.”
Alena’s breath caught. Cal’s shoulders went rigid beside her.
“I have to read you what’s on the note they gave me,” Melissa rushed out before Cal or Alena could say anything.
Cal froze for a second and then blurted, “Melissa, where are you? Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer his questions. Instead, she began to read, her voice trembling. “You’ll get instructions soon about how to save me.”
Alena felt a cold weight drop in her stomach. Dexter had her. There was no doubt now.
“Melissa, where are you?” Alena asked, fighting to keep her tone steady.
“I can’t say,” Melissa whispered. “I can only tell you this. Soon you’ll get a text telling you where to go.”
The line clicked and went dead.
Alena stared at the screen, her pulse pounding in her ears. Cal’s hand was still on the phone, his knuckles white, his face carved with fury and dread.
Cal jabbed at his screen, trying to call Melissa back, but the line went nowhere. A moment later dispatch confirmed what they feared. “That call came from a burner. No way to trace it on our end.”
Cal’s jaw tightened. “Patch me through to Isla. I want her working on this now. If there’s a shred of digital trail, she’ll find it.” His voice had the edge of command, the kind that made people move.
Alena watched him pace a step, the phone pressed to his ear, his body tight with barely contained fury. He ended the call and turned back to the room. “After Isla starts digging, we need to ask Kara where Dexter might take Melissa. Any place he’d think no one would look.”
Before Alena could reply, her own phone rang. The sound sliced through the heavy silence. She snatched it up, hope sparking sharp in her chest. For an instant she thought it might be Melissa again.
But it wasn’t.
It was a call from Cedar Ridge Sanctuary, the place where David lived. Her gut instantly clenched, and she hit the answer button as fast as she could.
“Ms. Warrington,” a man said. His voice was clipped and urgent. “This is Thomas Greer, head of security at Cedar Ridge. We’re on lockdown. Someone is attempting a break-in.”