Chapter 69
Wednesday early evening
Nobody spoke for a full minute after the call ended. They drove through evening traffic while the silence settled heavy between them.
Finally, JP said, “He’s setting terms.”
Sabre stared down at the dark phone screen in her hand. “I know. There was no anger or panic in his voice. That’s disturbing.”
Daniel Rourke wasn’t acting like a desperate fugitive. He was acting like a man trying to manage a negotiation.
JP turned onto the freeway. “Do you think he’ll contact you again tonight?”
“Yes.” Sabre already felt it coming. “He wants control.”
The phone rang again. Another unknown number.
JP pulled the truck onto the shoulder. “Answer it.”
Sabre hit speaker. “Daniel.”
“Are any police listening?”
JP and Sabre exchanged a quick look.
“No.”
“I need you to listen carefully,” Rourke said.
Outside, traffic hissed past.
Rourke’s voice was calm and measured. “I know Detective DuBois is involved. I know I was followed. And I know you think you’re close to something.”
Sabre said nothing.
“You aren’t,” he continued quietly. “Not unless I allow it.”
“What do you want?” Sabre asked, trying to sound casual.
“I want you to stop.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
For the first time, frustration slipped into his voice. “You still think this is a rescue.”
Sabre’s pulse quickened. “What is it then?”
“Harm. It didn’t have to be, but you involved police, you forced her into a system she no longer understands. You dragged her through courts, interviews, psychiatrists, reporters—”
“She was abducted as a child.”
A long silence followed, then softly, “You don’t know what happened.”
Sabre heard sincerity in Rourke’s voice. He believed himself.
“Hannah survived because somebody protected her,” Rourke said.
Sabre closed her eyes briefly. “No,” she said quietly. “Hannah survived despite what happened to her.”
Another brief silence. “You always did believe the system could save people.”
It didn’t sound like he was mocking her. It was almost sad.
Sabre gripped the phone tighter. “Where is she?”
This time when Rourke answered, the warmth had disappeared completely. “Here’s the deal, Sabre.”
JP tensed.
“If you continue involving law enforcement,” Rourke said calmly, “you will never see Hannah Caldwell again.”
Sabre’s heartbeat suddenly felt loud.
Rourke kept talking. “You come alone, and I’ll let Hannah decide what happens next.”
JP mouthed, No.
Sabre ignored him. “You expect me to trust you?”
“I expect you to decide whether finding her means more to you than arresting me.”
The real choice, an ultimatum.
Rourke lowered his voice. “She’s terrified right now. Not of me.” A pause. “Of you.”
Sabre felt that hit deep and painful, because she feared it might be true.
“She remembers you,” Rourke said. “She asked about you for years.”
JP mumbled under his breath. “Damn him for knowing exactly how to reach her emotionally.”
Sabre forced herself back to the point. “How do I know she’s alive?”
“You’ll get proof tomorrow morning.”
JP shook his head again and mouthed, trap.
“No police. No surveillance. No JP.”
This time JP actually laughed under his breath, but he didn’t look amused.
“You violate that,” Rourke said quietly, “and she disappears permanently.”
Sabre swallowed hard. “Where?”
“Tomorrow.”
Then one final sentence. “I hope you make a better choice this time.”
The line disconnected. Silence filled the truck again.
JP finally turned to her. “You’re not going alone.”