Chapter 71
Thursday morning
“No,” DuBois said.
He stood behind his desk staring down at the text message. He read it aloud. “Noon. Cindy’s Pancake House. Pacific Beach. Come alone.” DuBois scowled. “That doesn’t give us much time.”
Urban stood near a whiteboard filled with timelines, addresses, and photographs connected to Hannah Caldwell’s disappearance.
JP was still near the doorway, arms crossed tightly.
“He’s not going to bring her if I don’t go,” Sabre countered.
DuBois looked skeptical. “And you think he is if you do?”
“Yes.”
Urban cut in. “This is controlled contact by a highly manipulative offender. We do not send civilians alone into situations like this.”
Sabre folded her arms. “Hannah won’t show up for the police.”
Urban frowned. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do, and I think you do too.” Sabre pressed her point. “She remembered me for eight years. She sent Bay to find me specifically. She’s been sending me text messages. If there’s any chance Hannah walks into that meeting willingly, it’s because I’ll be there.”
They all accepted the truth of that.
DuBois rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck. “And if he bolts the second he sees surveillance?”
“He bolts anyway if I don’t show.”
Again, nobody argued.
“He doesn’t want us getting the lay of the land,” Urban said, “but a public restaurant makes no sense.”
“It does if he doesn’t plan to stay long,” JP said quietly.
Everybody looked toward him.
JP stepped forward. “He’s choosing someplace public because it reduces the odds of an immediate takedown.”
“Not if we lock the place down quietly,” Urban argued.
JP shook his head. “He’ll be watching before she ever gets there.”
DuBois looked toward Sabre. “You said the pancakes meant something.”
Sabre nodded. “The last time I saw Hannah, I promised to take her for pancakes after court.”
Urban tilted his head. “So, this is psychological.”
“Everything with him is psychological,” JP said.
The room fell quiet for a second.
Then DuBois spoke again. “Here’s the problem. A restaurant gives him too many eyes.” He pointed at the map spread across his desk. “Too many civilians. Too many exits. Too many variables.”
JP even closer now. “What’s around it?”
Urban answered first. “Beach access across the street. Parking lot behind the building. Alley access south side.”
JP nodded. “He won’t stay inside.”
That worried Sabre. “You think he’ll make contact outside?”
“Yes.”
That actually made more sense. The pancake house wasn’t the meeting point. It was the setup. Rourke wanted her to be off balance emotionally when she arrived.
Urban crossed his arms again. “He could have Hannah walk in alone while he watches from somewhere else.”
“No,” Sabre said quietly.
Everyone looked at her.
“He won’t risk losing control.”
JP nodded. “Exactly. Rourke would want visual control, emotional control, and escape control.”
DuBois looked toward JP. “You’re staying out of sight.”
“Sure.”
Urban gave a short laugh. “That believable where you come from?”
JP ignored him completely.
DuBois pointed toward him. “I mean it. If he sees you—”
“I get it. He already knows who I am,” JP interrupted. “And if Sabre walks in completely alone, Rourke may actually believe he’s winning.”
Sabre looked between them. “So, what are we doing?”
“Wide surveillance only.” DuBois looked toward Urban. “No units near the restaurant itself.”
Urban nodded reluctantly. “We cover outer perimeter and beach access.”
“No uniforms,” JP added.
“Obviously,” Urban muttered.
Sabre looked at the location again. Cindy’s Pancake House, a promise from eight years earlier turned into bait. Somehow that frightened her more than if Rourke had simply threatened her outright.