Chapter Nine #2
Rena watched the exchange, pulse tightening in her throat. She’d seen enemies try to rattle Noah before, but no one had ever managed to make it look so intimate.
Corrine turned toward Sheriff Chase, her voice taking on a falsely sweet tone. “You’ll have to excuse him, Sheriff. There’s obviously still… some bad blood. Our relationship ended poorly, and he’s never quite gotten past it.”
Rena could feel the smugness rolling off the woman in waves. But Noah didn’t take the bait. He didn’t rise to the challenge or snap back. He just lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, eyes cool and unreadable.
That small, wordless response seemed to cut deeper than anything he could have said. Corrine’s smile faltered for half a heartbeat, a flicker of something raw crossing her face before she forced it away.
“Of course,” Corrine said lightly, the veneer snapping back into place. “Some men just don’t handle rejection well.”
The woman was baiting Noah, trying to rewrite the power dynamic in real time. But Noah stayed calm, unbothered, professional. And from where Rena sat, that seemed to infuriate Corrine even more.
Sheriff Chase leaned back in her chair, flipping a page on her notepad. “Did you profile anyone else, Dr. Astor? Or is Rhett Danner the only one you think capable of this attack?”
For the first time, Corrine hesitated. A small pause that was measured, deliberate. Rena could almost see her deciding just how much to reveal.
Then Corrine sighed, as if conceding something significant. “I did look at someone else,” she said. “Brady Halden.”
Bingo. Another of their suspects.
Corrine went on, her tone cool and clinical now. “Brady was once part of a Crossfire-affiliated operation that was disavowed mid-mission. He was left behind. Left to die, essentially. But he didn’t. He survived. Rebuilt. He’s a tactical mind, a survivalist. Scarred both physically and emotionally.”
She folded her hands, her voice softening almost as if she pitied him. “He doesn’t see what he’s doing as revenge. He sees it as justice. The hypocrisy of the team that once called him brother, he wants to expose that. To make you face what he sees as your sins.”
Sheriff Chase jotted something down. “And in your opinion, his role?”
Corrine’s lips curved faintly. “If Rhett Danner was the brains behind the attack, Brady Halden was the muscle. The field leader. The man giving orders on the ground.”
Rena felt a cold prickle crawl up her neck. Corrine said it with such certainty, such precision, that it almost sounded as if she was describing something she’d seen herself.
Corrine leaned back in her chair, tilting her head in that thoughtful, patronizing way that made Rena’s teeth ache.
“But to be clear,” she added smoothly, “I don’t believe it’s Brady Halden.
Not really. He’s a blunt instrument, not a strategist. If I were you, Sheriff, I’d focus on Rhett Danner.
He’s the one who’d have the technical sophistication, and the obsession, to pull this off. ”
Sheriff Chase’s expression didn’t change, but her tone cooled. “We’ll focus on all three of you, Dr. Astor. Rhett Danner, Brady Halden… and you.”
That earned the faintest flicker from Corrine’s eyes. Just a sliver of heat before she gave a polite, condescending smile. “Of course.”
The sheriff flipped her notebook closed. “In the meantime, I’ll need you to voluntarily turn over your phone records and financials.”
Before Corrine could respond, her lawyer jumped in, voice sharp. “Absolutely not. That’s invasive and unnecessary. My client cooperated fully—”
Corrine raised one hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to do that,” she said calmly. “I still have clients—yes, they know I’m no longer licensed—but my consultations are private. I won’t violate their trust just to satisfy a witch hunt.”
Sheriff Chase’s reply was flat and unbothered. “That’s fine, Doctor. I already have warrants for both.”
The silence that followed was thick and hot. Corrine’s knuckles went white on the table’s edge, her mask slipping just long enough for Rena to see the fury underneath. But she smoothed it back into that serene, practiced calm almost instantly.
“Well,” Corrine said, her voice tight but controlled, “then I suppose you won’t need my cooperation after all.”
Rena caught Gage’s gaze across the room. He didn’t have to say it, they were both thinking the same thing. Corrine was playing a game. And she’d just been dealt a hand she didn’t like.
Corrine’s veneer of calm finally cracked. She turned sharply toward Noah, her eyes flashing. “This is your doing,” she hissed, voice low and venomous.
Again, Noah didn’t rise to it. He just leveled that hard, flat stare at her, the kind that could cut through steel. The silence stretched until it was clear he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a response.
Then, Noah’s phone buzzed.
He glanced down at the screen, his jaw tightening. “Excuse me,” he said, and motioned for Rena and Gage to follow.
They stepped out into the hallway, and as soon as the door shut behind them, Noah took the call. “Yeah, Isla,” he said. “Talk to me.”
Rena could hear Isla’s voice faintly through the speaker—fast, clipped, urgent. Noah’s expression went from stone-cold to razor-sharp.
When he ended the call, he blew out a breath. “The techs traced the chopper that got away.”
Rena’s pulse picked up. “Where?” she couldn’t ask fast enough.
“About ten miles from here,” Noah explained. “An old training facility. It’s registered under a shell company that went dark three years ago.”
“Any activity?” Gage asked.
Noah shook his head. “They ran a drone sweep. No heat signatures, no movement. But I don’t buy that it’s empty. I want eyes on it.”
He glanced between them, all commander again now, no trace of the man who’d just faced down his ex. “I’m staying here to monitor the interviews with Danner and Halden. You two go check out the site. I’ll have Isla text you the coordinates.”
Rena nodded, adrenaline already sparking through her fatigue. “Who’s going with us?”
“Cal and Garrett,” Noah said. “They’ll meet you there.” He looked at them both. “Stay sharp. If that facility ties back to the siege, you might be walking straight into the next fight.”