Chapter 18 Search
Cade
Cade gaped into the empty car, so gobsmacked he couldn't move or speak. As the ground tilted beneath his feet, he told himself not to jump to conclusions, that Tristan had to be nearby.
He immediately began to scan the space around the car, while Natalie trailed behind him and demanded, "Where is he?"
With more confidence than he felt, Cade assured her, "I'm sure he's around here somewhere."
Gaze sweeping over the illuminated area near the house, Cade searched for that familiar shock of red hair.
Finding none, his focus shifted to the darkness beyond the glow of the porch lights.
No movement, no sounds, just stillness. His blood ran cold in his veins as Natalie's voice pitched higher: "Where's my brother? "
Dazed and numb, Cade answered, "He was here, but he's... gone."
Natalie's face contorted, but he couldn't tell if she was scared, confused or shocked.
That made two of them.
Cade motioned to Rodriguez, who asked, "What's going on?" as he approached.
Still unable to comprehend this turn of events, Cade muttered, "Tristan's gone."
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
"He's not in the car."
"What the fuck, man?" Rodriguez looked for himself, then suggested they search around the house.
Cade trailed behind the other agent, heart thumping erratically, eyes desperately seeking Tristan's familiar form.
By the time they had circled back to the front without finding anything, Kate had arrived to transport the girls to safety.
Trying to push down the panic that gripped him, Cade asked over comms, "Annabeth, do you know where Tristan is?"
"No, isn't he with you?" came the sharp reply.
Silence, except for the whooshing of blood in his ears. "No, he's... gone."
"I'll be right there."
"I don't understand. Where did he go?" Natalie's voice trembled as she spoke.
"I don't know," Cade rasped.
"But he was here? You're not just saying that? Is this some sick joke?" Natalie said, eyeing Cade suspiciously.
"It's not, I swear. I helped him find you. He and I were... close."
Cade ignored Rodriguez's wide-eyed surprise and focused on Natalie, who scowled at him and challenged, "If you knew him, what was he like?"
"He looks a lot like you. He's loud and competitive and never stops talking or asking questions.
He's reckless and jumps into situations headfirst, and he thinks he's funny, but his jokes are kinda cringy.
He said you lost your mom two years ago, and he did some dangerous crap to find you, but he didn't care about his own safety; he only cared about finding you. "
Natalie's scowl relaxed. "That's him. I believe you."
Cade watched numbly as the last of the hostages settled into the van, thinking at least they were safe now. As Kate drove off, Annabeth arrived, and she, along with Tag and Taylor, joined their group.
"What's going on?" Annabeth asked.
"Tristan's gone." Cade tried to keep his voice even, but it still cracked.
"What? How?" Tag demanded as his eyes swept the area. "What the fuck?"
"Maybe he went to take a leak in the woods," Taylor suggested.
Cade considered the possibility, but it didn't feel right. "I don't know. He's been gone for a while, more than five minutes."
"Maybe he's taking a dump instead," Tag said, prompting Annabeth to roll her eyes.
"Maybe he went to piss and tripped and fell? Injured himself?" Rodriguez asked, and though Cade wanted to believe that was true, the knot in his gut told him otherwise.
"Let's check the trees."
The group fanned out to scour the woods, with Tag using thermal goggles to check for heat signatures.
Cade vaguely registered the others calling Tristan's name as he squinted into his flashlight's beam, desperate to see movement or any sign of red hair.
With each passing minute, Cade's panic climbed, his thoughts a jumble of guilt, regret and worry.
By the time they had searched the entire property with no results, his stomach clenched and roiled.
Back in front of the house, they found the cleaner exiting his car, dressed in golf-club attire: khaki pants, polo shirt, and neatly styled dark hair, a combination that inexplicably irritated Cade.
As the man grabbed a worn, oversized duffel bag that clashed with his polished look, he asked, "What are you all still doing here? "
"We're missing someone," Rodriguez responded.
"That seems unlikely in an operation this small," the cleaner observed haughtily, and Cade suppressed the impulse to punch his stupid face.
"Just go do your job," he spat out.
The cleaner just raised an eyebrow and continued toward the house, while Annabeth urged, "Cade, calm down."
"I can't! This is all my fault. I shouldn't have let him come with us. Fuck!"
He slammed his fist down on the hood of the car once, twice, three times before he felt an iron claw around his wrist. He whirled around, fully intending to punch whoever stopped him, to unleash the anger and guilt consuming him.
"Cade, stop!" Tag barked.
Stunned that Tag used his real name and that his face lacked its usual sneer, Cade hesitated for a moment, then stopped struggling.
"I know you're upset, but you need to pull yourself together so we can find him.
" Tag kept his voice calm and steady, and even though part of Cade wanted to lash out, he clamped his mouth together and tried to steady his breathing.
When the burn of rage fizzled to a simmer, an icy dread replaced it.
Cade inhaled and pushed out one final, deep breath and answered, "Okay."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm okay."
Tag released him, and they both turned to Annabeth as she took charge. "Okay, what are the possibilities?"
Cade spoke first, trying to squash his emotions and think logically. "I don't think he would walk off. He'd want to see Natalie too badly to leave."
"If he did go to the trees and was injured, we would have found him," Tag observed.
"He could have gone further away. To a neighboring house, maybe?" Rodriguez suggested.
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know, maybe someone came, and he was trying to hide?"
"Wouldn't he come back in that case?"
"Someone took him," Cade said flatly, knowing in his gut it was true. Over the whooshing in his ears, he heard Natalie gasp and internally flinched.
"What makes you say that?" Tag asked.
"He wouldn't leave. He knew we'd bring Natalie to him, so he wouldn't leave unless he was forced. If he was just hiding, he'd be back by now." The truth of the words settled like lead in his chest.
A few seconds ticked by in silence.
Annabeth said, "Okay, besides that, any other theories?"
No one spoke.
The wordless confirmation squeezed Cade's lungs and choked off his words.
"If he was taken, then by who?" Annabeth asked.
"Someone in the operation," Taylor concluded.
"Maybe they came to the house and found him? Realized what was going on?"
Tag countered, "Why take him? Why not kill him?"
The soft choking sound Natalie made felt like a blow to Cade's solar plexus. Damn it, he should be protecting her, like he should have protected Tristan.
But he failed them both.
"Information, most likely. But where would they take him?"
"To the boss?" Taylor suggested.
"To the Handler," Cade answered, instinctively knowing that was the answer.
"Who we don't know how to find," Tag concluded.
Cursing viciously, Cade ran a hand through his hair and tried to push away the ugly thought that Tristan could already be dead. The thought of his face, slack and lifeless, his body bloodied and battered, made him want to vomit.
"Maybe they're holding him as a hostage?"
"The Handler is going to know soon that we've gotten all the girls out and his guys are dead. What information does Tristan know besides that? What reason do they have to keep him?" Tag pressed.
"He wants the Broker's laptop," Cade concluded. If the Handler did have Tristan, that was the only plausible reason to keep Tristan alive. But what would Tristan tell him? And what would the Handler do to get that information out of him? Fuck, would he torture him?
Bile rose in Cade's throat, and he choked it down while the others digested that intel for a few heartbeats. Annabeth broke the stony silence by asking Natalie gently, "Hey, I know this is a lot, but we'll find him. Try to trust us. Is there anyone you want us to call?"
"No," Natalie answered, her voice quivering, "There's no one, just me and Tristan."
Cade winced, and Annabeth shot him a concerned look over Natalie's shoulder.
"You can stay with us. I met your brother and liked him a lot. He was smart and brave, and he did everything possible to find you. When I get a chance, I'll tell you all about it."
"Okay," Natalie agreed in a small voice.
"Let me update Hamm. Hold tight," Annabeth said, heading toward her van.
A desperation clawed at Cade unlike any he had ever felt before. The urge to act, to do something, was overwhelming, but there was nothing to do, no steps to follow, no leads to pursue.
Stomach clenching as despair suffocated him, Cade went to the front steps to regroup and gather his thoughts. As he hung his head, the instinct to cry and scream flared, but as much as he hated to admit it, Tag had been right. He had to stay composed.
Sensing someone sitting next to him, he looked over to find Natalie regarding him silently. He didn't speak, didn’t know what to say, or even if he could force words past the lump in his throat.
Finally, Natalie asked. "So, you said you and Tristan were close?"
"Yeah."
"He never mentioned you before."
"Because we just met, like, six days ago."
Jesus, had it only been six days since he saw Tristan at Wilson's house? Had it really been less than a week since Tristan came into his life and changed it? Changed him?
Natalie peered at him with eyes eerily like her brother's. "How did you meet?"