Maeve #2
“I didn’t say anything,” Warden said.
“You were about to,” Peak grumbled. Warden grinned, and Maeve holstered her pistol.
“Can we focus on the part where Captain is missing, and Mercer knows who has Wren?”
The humor disappeared from Warden’s face.
“Yeah.” He took the burner phone from Peak and entered a code.
A photograph appeared on the screen. Mercer sat in a metal chair; his hands bound behind him.
His face was bruised, but he was conscious.
Someone had placed a tablet on the table in front of him.
The screen showed a woman’s employee photograph.
She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a white laboratory coat—Dr. Elaine Voss.
Maeve studied the name printed beneath the image. “She works for a pharmaceutical company.”
“Worked,” Warden corrected. “The company shut down six years ago after a contamination scandal.”
Peak leaned over the phone. “What’s the company’s name?”
“Bayview Therapeutics,” Warden said. Maeve knew it, not personally, but from an investigation.
Her body went cold. “I’ve seen that name before.”
Peak looked at her. “Where?”
“One of the shell companies connected to the crawler.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” She took the phone. “Bayview bought data from three medical systems before it closed. Patient records, insurance details, prescription histories.”
Warden frowned. “What does that have to do with trafficking?”
“Identity creation,” Peak said.
Maeve nodded. “They can use real medical records to build fake identities. Birth dates, blood types, prescription histories.”
“For the women they move?” Warden asked.
“For anyone,” she breathed.
Peak’s expression sharpened. “Including contractors who need to disappear.” Warden swore softly.
Maeve zoomed in on Voss’s photograph. “If this woman works for the Director, she might be the one creating new identities for the people inside the organization.”
“Or for the victims,” Peak said. The thought made Maeve feel sick. Wren could be living under another name. She could be moved through hospitals, airports, and secure facilities without triggering a single missing-person alert.
Maeve handed the phone back. “We find Voss, we find the facility.”
“That’s the theory,” Warden said.
“Where was she last seen?” Peak asked.
“Mercer claimed that she’s in Maryland,” Warden said.
“That narrows it down,” Peak muttered.
“Near Cambridge,” Warden said.
Maeve’s gaze snapped toward him. “That’s close to the Grave Prowler’s territory.”
“Yeah, it’s close enough that Captain started asking questions,” Warden agreed.
“And then he disappeared,” Peak said. Silence settled over the room again.
The pieces were beginning to form a shape Maeve didn’t like.
The Director’s people had used Grave Prowler docks.
An abandoned station on the Eastern Shore had been part of their network.
Dr. Voss might be operating near Cambridge.
Someone inside the club had leaked information.
Captain had vanished after leaving the motel.
“This isn’t a coincidence,” she said.
Peak nodded slowly. “They’ve been rooted here for years.”
Warden folded his arms over his chest. “Captain always said no other club could operate this close without us knowing.”
“Maybe it isn’t another club,” Maeve said.
The Iron Serpents were visible. They had territory and held grudges, but the Director’s organization worked differently.
It lived beneath legitimate businesses like shipping companies, medical facilities, and government contracts.
People who looked ordinary until someone peeled back the surface.
“What if the Iron Serpents were never the organization?” she asked. “What if they were only one piece of the puzzle?”
Peak’s eyes met hers. “Transportation or protection.”
“Recruitment,” Warden said. Maeve hated that word. Recruitment. As if kidnapped women had filled out applications. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the motel room, and seconds later, thunder shook the windows. The lights remained out.
Peak checked his watch. “We need to move before the storm breaks.”
Warden nodded. “I parked across the highway. We leave the Harley here.”
“No,” Peak said.
“The tracker is on it,” Warden reminded.
“I can remove the tracker,” Peak insisted.
“And if someone is watching the motel, they’ll know the second the bike moves.”
Peak glanced toward the covered window. “He’s right,” Maeve said.
Peak looked at her. “You trust him?”
“No,” she admitted.
Warden snorted. “Appreciate that.”
“But leaving the bike gives them something to watch,” Maeve said.
“We take my truck,” Warden said. “Switch vehicles ten miles east.”
Maeve studied him. “You planned this.”
“I plan everything,” Warden said.
Peak gave him a skeptical look. “You punched a man through a car window because he insulted your beard.”
“That was planned,” Warden insisted.
“It was not,” Peak grumbled.
“I’d been thinking about it for several minutes,” Warden said.
Despite herself, Maeve almost laughed. The humor died when the burner phone vibrated in Warden’s hand.
All three of them froze. The screen showed a blocked number.
Warden answered without speaking and put the call on speaker.
For several seconds, only static came through.
Then a man’s voice said, “You took your time.” It was Mercer’s voice. Maeve moved closer, and Warden’s face darkened.
“How are you calling me?” Warden asked.
“I borrowed a phone.” Ruin’s shout sounded faintly in the background, and Mercer chuckled. “Your vice president is having a difficult morning.”
Warden reached for the motel door, but Peak blocked him. “Wait,” Peak ordered.
Mercer continued. “Maeve, are you listening?”
Her mouth went dry. “How did you know I was here?”
“Because you’re predictable,” Mercer said.
She took the phone from Warden. “Where is Wren?”
“Still asking the wrong question,” Mercer drawled.
“What’s the right one?” she asked.
“Why is she alive?” Mercer said. Maeve’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Peak moved close enough that his shoulder touched hers. “Tell me,” she said.
“Your sister built something the Director needs.”
“The crawler?” Maeve asked.
“Something better.” Maeve’s thoughts raced. Wren had kept the backup. Maybe she’d expanded it or even changed it. Maybe she created another program while in captivity.
“What did she build?”
Mercer laughed softly. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Give me the address where I can find her,” Maeve shouted.
“I can give you something more useful.” Maeve closed her eyes. Every conversation with Mercer was a game—a maze designed to keep her moving while he controlled the walls.
“What?” she asked.
“Captain is alive.”
Warden grabbed the phone. “Where is he?”
“Dr. Voss has him.” Maeve looked at Peak. It had to be the facility near Cambridge. Mercer’s voice continued. “She wants to trade.”
“For what?” Warden demanded.
“Maeve.” Nobody moved. The word seemed to drain all the air from the motel room. Peak took the phone from Warden.
“Not happening.”
Mercer chuckled. “Then Captain dies.”
“Where’s the trade?” Maeve asked.
“Instructions will follow.” The line went dead.
Warden immediately tried calling back, but got nothing.
Maeve stared at the phone in Peak’s hand.
She had known this moment would come. Someone would eventually threaten a life in exchange for hers.
She had spent eighteen months preparing for it.
Telling herself she wouldn’t allow anyone else to pay the price for what she had started.
Peak turned toward her. “No.” She hadn’t said anything. He had read the decision on her face anyway.
“Captain is your president,” she said.
“And you’re not trading yourself,” Peak growled.
“He’ll die.”
“Not if we find him first,” Peak insisted.
“It’ll be a trap,” she said. “Even if they gave us a location, we’ll be walking into a trap.”
“I know,” Peak said.
“Then stop looking like you’re ready to walk into it.” Maeve stepped away from him. “This is exactly what I warned you about.”
“What?” he asked.
“People near me become leverage,” she said.
“Captain made his own choices,” Peak said, moving closer to her.