Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
As soon as Duke and Andi walked into the TV station, they were ushered from one place to another: sign-in, microphones, chairs, lights. It was enough to make Duke’s head spin.
How had he gone from Army investigator to Alaska tour guide to nationally known podcaster? It all seemed surreal sometimes.
Mariella had brought fresh clothes for them—she’d picked out their wardrobes. She’d insisted they all needed to exude certain personas on the tour.
Andi wore her black leather jacket to radiate a cool, urban vibe.
Duke wore an army camo jacket and jeans.
Ranger wore all black and had to keep his beard trimmed.
Matthew kept the computer-nerd persona. Simmy wore soft pastels that made her look sweet and approachable.
And Mariella . . . she wore pink clothes bedazzled with gemstones.
Everyone changed into their outfits. Hair and makeup had taken less than ten minutes. Someone dusted Duke’s forehead with powder, adjusted his collar, and clipped a mic to his jacket.
Then the team met in the hallway, all ready for the camera.
Before they were ushered on set, Andi gathered the team around her. “Do we want to bring up Gina?”
Duke had wondered about that also.
Everyone exchanged glances.
Mariella finally spoke. “I wish we had more time to talk about this. I don’t know if we want to jump into that without talking through the details.”
“I agree,” Ranger said. “There could be benefits—but it could also spook her abductor. We need to be careful.”
Andi nodded. “I’ve thought about those things too. How about if I bring up something vague? I don’t have to say her name.”
Everyone nodded, and they agreed on that approach.
On air, the team was solid. They talked about their most popular cases as well as the local cold case they were covering while they were in town.
Andi navigated questions with calm authority, redirecting when needed, answering just enough to intrigue without exploiting anyone’s pain.
Mariella shone beside her, always at ease in front of the camera.
Ranger spoke sparingly, which only made people lean in when he did say something.
Simmy offered encouraging smiles and a compassionate take when everyone else became too factual.
Matthew handled the technical questions with dry precision.
They spoke about the rest of the tour.
But they didn’t mention Gina. They couldn’t chance it.
From the corner of his eye, Duke caught Rupert hovering just off-camera, gesturing emphatically at a producer and mouthing wrap it up, his panic contained only by the fact that everything—miraculously—was still on schedule.
When the cameras shut off and the studio lights dimmed, relief finally eased Duke’s shoulders.
Yet the quiet that followed felt fleeting.
Duke knew this was far from being over.
Backstage at the TV station, Duke clocked everything at once—the tight knot of people, the cluttered folding table, the lack of clear exits.
The team gathered in a loose circle near a row of tall metal stools, half-empty coffee cups and crumpled makeup wipes scattered like evidence of controlled chaos.
A production assistant hovered nearby with a clipboard, eyes flicking between her watch and her phone as crew members threaded past with headsets slung low around their necks.
A makeup artist brushed by, calling out names while scanning faces, and a red-haired intern handed out bottled water like offerings before disappearing down the corridor.
Duke noted it all automatically—movement, proximity, who lingered and who didn’t.
The whole space buzzed with motion and urgency—people going places, schedules tightening, seconds being counted. Too many variables for a conversation that mattered.
Keeping his voice low, Duke and Andi gave the team the condensed version of the coffeehouse meeting with Emily.
“That’s . . . unsettling,” Simmy said, shivering as if suddenly chilled. “I can’t believe that woman pretended to be Gina’s sister. What sense does that even make?”
“That’s what we need to figure out,” Andi murmured.
Ranger crossed his arms, his expression turning stony. “So what now?”
Duke glanced at Andi. She held his look a beat longer than necessary, and he knew both of them were mentally reviewing options—and coming up short.
“The law firm where Gina works is closed today,” Andi said. “So, we can’t talk to Gina’s coworkers until tomorrow—if we want to go that route. Police already shut us down. And we don’t yet know where the real Pam is beyond being mid-flight somewhere over the Atlantic.”
“I can talk to some of Gina’s neighbors, see if they saw anything,” Ranger said. “I’d be happy to do that tomorrow.”
“Great idea,” Duke said.
Ranger nodded slowly. “Until then, we wait.”
“We wait,” Duke echoed.
Duke knew all about waiting. There was something he desperately wanted to talk to Andi about.
However, he was waiting on someone else first. But Andi was smart and observant.
She clearly knew he had a secret, and he hated that.
But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. One more piece needed to click into place first.
Rupert, mercifully distracted with a producer, didn’t argue when they told him they were headed back to the hotel and then grabbing dinner. Duke wasn’t convinced the man even heard them.
They stepped out into the evening air together, the city glowing with streetlights and reflections off damp pavement. Hunger gnawed at Duke now that adrenaline had finally worn off.
The gang was halfway down the sidewalk, still talking—about timelines, fake names, motive theories—when it hit him.
That familiar prickling at the base of his neck.
Duke stopped mid-sentence and turned.
Nothing.
Just pedestrians heading home. A couple laughing near a crosswalk. A man locking up a bike.
Still, the feeling didn’t fade.
He scanned the street again, slower this time. Deliberate.
But he didn’t see any movement that didn’t belong or any shadow out of place.
His instincts didn’t care.
He’d learned a long time ago that the worst threats weren’t the obvious ones.
They were the quiet ones.