Page 102 of Speechless
Luna settled at his feet; Sarah sat beside him.
He couldn’t find his tongue. Whatever had happened, it was bad.
She blew out a shaky breath and pressed a button on her phone. “Zeke?”
Her husband asked immediately, “Are we on speakerphone?”
“Yeah. Connor’s right here.”
“Okay. I’ve had a call from my father, Connor. Hadley and the psych boys didn’t arrive at the hospital with Jenna. All contact with them was lost, so Hadley’s unit sent a team to track their route.” Zeke fell silent for a moment. “They found the SUV on one of the back roads about an hour away. Looks like an RTA—the vehicle’s smashed up good from what I’ve been told.”
“J-Jenna?”
Sarah stifled a sob.
“It wasn’t an RTA, Connor. Or at least, not an accidental one. All three men were shot in their seats—both men from the psych unit are dead. Hadley’s not far behind but he’s holding on. The medics think the cold saved him from bleeding out completely.”
Dead inside, Connor tried to make sense of what Zeke was saying. Two dead, and a man he considered a friend halfway on the journey to the pearly gates. But it was the one Zeke wasn’t mentioning, it was Jenna who filled Connor’s vision as hallucinations of her body jerking under the onslaught of bullets haunted him. “Jenna, Zeke?”
The other man sighed. “They haven’t found her, Connor. There’s evidence she’s badly injured according to the FBI crew currently on scene. A lot of blood they think hasn’t come from the shooting victims. The snow’s covering too much, but there’s…fuck, Con, I’m sorry. There’s a bloody trail under the snow where it looks like she’s been dragged out of the SUV.”
“I…” Dumbfounded, Connor stared at his hands. “I…”
“Breathe, Connor.” Sarah scooted closer, rubbed his back in firm circles when his chest grew tight. “They haven’t found her, but that means they haven’t found a body either. If she was dead, they wouldn’t have taken her body.”
“Not they.He.”
“Yes,” she amended softly. “He.”
“Have…have they got dogs out…looking for her?” Fuck, his throat kept slamming shut at the worst times. Bearing down, digging deep beneath the terror in his gut and the surge of grief, Connor fought for slippery hold on a rational thought. Any thought that didn’t scream Jenna’s name like a prayer.
“They’re bringing in search and rescue teams. They’re more accustomed to working in these sorts of weather conditions, but you have to keep in mind…” Zeke hesitated. “The snow’s bad, Connor. Tire treads, footprints, blood…it erased all of them before the FBI arrived on scene. That was two hours ago. Any scent markers, any trace of her is going to be fucking hard to find. Whoever did this thought it through.”
“No.” Connor blinked away the cobwebs of shock. “No, they didn’t. If the petition went through so early this morning, how did he know Jenna would be forced to leave the house? Unless he’s been hiding close by, watching the house to wait for the opportunity, but that could have taken months. He knew. He fucking knew.”
It honestly made him sick to think that motherfucker had been anywhere near Jenna during her recovery. But Connor took that nausea, and the trembling fury he felt at the thought of Sire having his hands on hisfucking Twenty-Twoagain and put it into devising his next step.
Because therewasa next step.
Until he found Jenna—dead or alive, God help him—there would be no stopping. He’d take step after step, pushing forward no matter what bullshit got in his way, until he found the woman he loved.
She wouldn’t be left to defend her again for three years. Hell, he was damned if any stone remained unturned in the next three days in his hunt.
“Hadley believed there was a mole in the FBI,” Sarah whispered, shocked. “All the evidence going missing, getting damaged. If he was right, it’s not just a mole. It’s a murderer.”
“Oh, he’s right. Murderer, abductor, fucking traitor.” Connor shoved to his feet, unable to contain the sudden flood of nervous energy in his system demanding to be used. His legs felt weak, but he forced himself to walk the room in a slow, methodical circle as his thoughts unwound. “If there’s one in the FBI, Sire has them all over. Sheriff departments, morgues, laboratories. Anywhere he needs them, he’ll find a way to get them on his roll. Which means…”
“The fucker has money,” Zeke finished. “This will cause a ruckus in the main FBI building. Internal Affairs kind of ruckus. I need to update the senator. He’ll want to know so he can get the ball rolling. If he can get IA involved immediately, we might be able to start pinning moles before they go deep.”
“We?” Connor questioned.
Zeke chuckled, and Connor imagined the big man scrubbing his hand over his chin. “Ploughing snow off the roads is a hobby, Connor. Politics might not be my thing, but justice is my real job. Classified,” he added sternly, “so this doesn’t go any further.”
“My mouth’s sealed.” Invigorated by the fresh direction, Connor knew what his next move needed to be. “I’m dropping Sarah off outside your door in ten minutes, Zeke. Make sure you’re there when I do.”
“Why, what are you—”
But Connor tapped his watch and gave Sarah a meaningful look before striding from the room. Finding Jenna was his only priority—leaving Sire and his lackeys to the now-mysterious Zeke seemed the logical thing to do.