Chapter Seven
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The wind had picked up by the time Delaney and Eli crossed the gravel path toward the main headquarters building. Gray clouds hung low over the hills, mirroring the unease tightening in her chest. She kept pace beside Eli, her shoulder just brushing his as they moved with purpose.
Inside the glass-walled entry, the warmth hit immediately, along with the sound of low voices. Noah stood near the front reception area, his stance unreadable but alert. Beside him were two men Delaney recognized instantly from their files.
Lawrence Melborne stood with his arms loosely crossed, a man in his late sixties with snow-white hair, a commanding posture, and sharp, assessing eyes that didn’t miss much. He looked like a retired senator or someone used to issuing orders and having them followed without question.
But it was the other man who drew Delaney’s attention.
Cyrus Hale.
Late fifties, tall and lean with just a hint of remaining youth clinging to his features.
He wore a slim-fitting black coat, charcoal slacks, and a dark collared shirt opened at the neck.
A silver chain glinted under the fabric.
His hair was tousled like he’d styled it with his hands, and the lines around his mouth suggested he smiled often, though Delaney doubted there was anything warm behind it.
He had the air of an aging rock star clinging to charisma and mystery, with eyes that didn’t quite match the charm he projected.
“So,” Hale said, his voice rich and slightly amused. “These are the two trying to drag my institute’s name through the mud.”
Delaney didn’t flinch. She stood straighter, the weight of her badge and training locking her spine into place.
“We’re the ones trying to keep a teenage girl from disappearing,” she said. “If that ruins your image, maybe it says more about the place you run.”
Hale’s smile curved, thin and humorless. “Fiery one, huh?”
Noah’s gaze flicked to Eli and Delaney. He gave the smallest of nods, a silent signal that the real conversation was about to begin.
Delaney followed Noah, Eli, Lawrence Melborne, and Cyrus Hale down a short hallway to the heart of Crossfire Ops. The door slid open on silent tracks, revealing a conference room washed in soft daylight from floor-to-ceiling windows.
The table was a single slab of polished walnut, its surface large enough to seat ten without crowding.
Slim leather chairs surrounded it, each one perfectly aligned.
At the far end of the room, a wide video wall glowed black until Noah tapped a control panel and it flickered to life.
Three camera feeds and a map of the Hill Country filled the screens.
A chrome-and-glass credenza held pitchers of water, coffee urns, and neatly stacked mugs. On one wall, a whiteboard already bore scribbled notes in multiple colors—coordinates, names, timelines—evidence of the urgency running through this place.
Delaney paused just inside the doorway, taking it all in.
This room was where strategy became action.
Where data on a screen turned into missions in the field.
And right now all eyes would be on her and Eli as they faced down a grandfather and the man who ran the very institute they’d come to expose.
Noah tapped the control panel and the video wall switched to a single image. Olivia’s bruised face filled the screen. Dark purple swelling beneath one eye, a thin cut above her brow, her lips cracked and trembling. Her hair was tangled, and her eyes stared out raw with fear.
Delaney felt a jolt of anger at the sight. She knew Noah meant to unnerve the two men standing opposite them. It was clear from the tightening at Cyrus Hale’s jaw and the way Lawrence Melborne’s shoulders stiffened.
Lawrence scowled and jabbed a finger at the screen. “This is of her own making,” he barked. “She was in a safe place where she could get the help she needed and she ran away.”
Delaney pressed her lips together, refusing to let him see how his words stung. Hale sighed and shook his head.
“Olivia is such a troubled girl,” Hale said, his voice seemingly sympathetic. That sympathy tone quickly changed, though. “Still, she’s a bit of a drama queen, always seeking attention.”
Noah raised his hand, palm open, and motioned for everyone to take a seat. As the group settled around the table, he turned back to the screen.
“Olivia has provided an interesting account of what went on at the institute,” Noah said.
Lawrence’s face twisted into a sneer. “All lies, I’m sure,” he spat out. “That girl is just as weak as her mother.”
“I have to agree about Vivian,” Hale piped in. “I treated her years ago. She’s bright, but she never could stand on her own two feet.”
Anger flared through Delaney. “She did stand on her own two feet when she tracked down her daughters, girls you secretly stashed in your so-called institute without telling their mother.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Eli said, and there was plenty of disgust in not only his voice but his expression. “You ignored her paternal rights, but more than that, you put your own granddaughters in a prison.”
Lawrence’s face went red and he opened his mouth to snap back, but Hale laid a cool hand on his arm. Lawrence froze mid-gesture, jaw clenching under Hale’s calm authority.
Delaney watched as Hale’s face softened, his shoulders dropping slightly.
“This is a very emotional subject,” Hale began. “Lawrence loves his daughter and granddaughters more than anything.”
Eli’s eyes flicked to the image of Olivia on the screen, then back to Hale. “That’s a strange way to show love,” he said, and he tipped his head toward the bruised photo.
Lawrence opened his mouth, ready to retort, but Hale held up a hand.
“My institute and its practices have helped thousands,” Hale said, voice firm. “Including Lawrence’s late wife. She was suicidal. I saved her, and she continued to lead a depression-free life until she succumbed to cancer a few years ago.”
Lawrence’s jaw flexed, the memory flashing behind his eyes. Delaney felt the room shift as personal history collided with professional purpose. Now every word carried the weight of lives saved. And lives ruined.
Lawrence’s features softened for a moment. “It’s true,” he said. “Dr. Hale helped my wife when she was at her lowest.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a shame he couldn’t do more for my daughter.”
Delaney braced herself as Lawrence’s gaze sharpened and his voice rose.
“Vivian has made one poor decision after another,” Lawrence snapped. “First she fell for a loser like her first husband, followed by a string of more losers with the latest and worst being Grant Maddox. He is nothing but a gold digger interested only in her fortune.”
He stood and began pacing beside the table, hands clenched at his sides. “Olivia and Ava were troublemakers,” Lawrence went on. “Always running wild and disrespectful. They needed discipline and structure so I placed them in Dr. Hale’s institute to set them straight.”
Delaney exchanged a glance with Eli, recognizing the rigid certainty in Lawrence’s tone. He seemed to believe he was acting in their best interests even as every word felt like an accusation.
Lawrence’s pacing slowed when Hale rose from his chair and stepped over to him. With a gentle hand on Lawrence’s arm, Hale guided him back to his seat, his touch both firm and reassuring. Lawrence sank down, still scowling but no longer shouting.
Hale turned to face Delaney and Eli. His voice was calm and even. “You two have seen only one side of the story. I understand the search warrant is stalled, but that is to protect the identities of my patients. Confidentiality is essential.”
Delaney and Eli exchanged a quick look, surprise flickering in both their eyes.
“However, I am willing to grant you both a private tour of the institute tomorrow morning,” Hale continued. “You can see for yourselves that it is a place of healing, not a prison. One visit under supervision. No interruptions.”
Delaney’s mind raced. A supervised visit might give them access to evidence. But it felt like a trap. Still, she forced herself to nod. “We’ll take that tour.”
Eli merely inclined his head, expression guarded. He obviously didn’t trust Hale, but a chance to see inside the institute could turn the tide.
Noah folded his arms and asked, “Can we talk to Ava during the tour?”
Hale’s lips curved into a nearly smug smile. “That’s up to Ava,” he said, pulling out his phone. “She recorded a message for her mother and the authorities. I think you’ll want to hear it.”
He tapped the screen and set the speakerphone between them, and a trembling voice began. “Hi, this is Ava Camden. You don’t have to worry. I’m safe. Well, safe now that Olivia isn’t here.”
Delaney tamped down her reaction to that. Barely. What the heck had Ava meant by that? And was she saying this voluntarily or had someone coerced her?
“I need everyone to know the truth,” Ava went on, the words ending in a hoarse sob. It took a couple of seconds for her to continue. “Olivia didn’t leave the institute because it was a bad place. She left after she tried, and failed, to kill me.”
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