Safety Breach

Kellan didn’t add more because his phone rang again. This time it was Jack, and Kellan went back across the room so he could have at least a little privacy when he talked to his brother.

“Owen just told me what Eric said,” Jack blurted out the moment he was on the line. “Did he really say he didn’t kill Caroline?”

None of this was a surprise. Not the question and certainly not the desperate emotion that went with it. Jack loved Caroline, and even though all the signs had pointed to her being dead, Jack would never give up, never heal, until they found her body.

“For just a second, think with your badge and no other part of you,” Kellan insisted. “Eric is a liar.”

Kellan glanced at Gemma to see if she was listening. Maybe she was, but she was also back to working on the computer. Hopefully, not hacking into anything.

“Yeah,” Jack snapped. “But there’s no reason for him to lie about that.”

Sure there was, and it was going to slice Jack, and himself, to spell out what his brother already knew. “If we’re focused on finding Caroline, then we’d be looking in the wrong direction—for Eric. No way would he leave her alive if she could be found and lead us back to him.”

“Maybe she escaped,” Jack insisted.

“Maybe.” This was going to slice, too. “But then, she would have found a way to get in touch with you.”

His brother’s groan was the worst slice of all. Jack was his kid brother, and it hurt to feel him hurting like this.

“I want to talk to Gemma,” Jack snarled several moments later. “I want to work this latest murder investigation with you.”

Kellan had anticipated that, too, and had no intention of refusing. “It might hit close to home,” Kellan warned him. “The marshals might be involved.”

“Rory?” Jack immediately asked.

“Maybe. But also Amanda Hardin. Any idea how and why she became Gemma’s handler?”

His brother paused a moment. “No. I would have done it, but I wasn’t exactly at my best.”

No, because Jack had been in love with Caroline, and she was still missing. His brother had gone a little crazy when they’d found Caroline’s blood and then no sign of the woman.

“You’re asking if I trust Amanda?” Jack concluded. “I don’t really know her that well, but I soon will. Let me see what I can find out, and I’ll get back to you.”

Kellan thanked him, and he turned, ready to face Gemma’s questions about what Jack had said regarding her handler. But it was obvious from her widened eyes that he had his own question.

“What happened?” Kellan demanded.

“Eric,” she said, a new kind of quiver in her voice. “I know where he’s been for the past year, and I think I know how to find him.”

Chapter Five (#u8757b407-d5b3-5821-ae6b-f2fa092a480e)

The fear was gone now. Or at least it had been stomped down for a while and replaced by the relief of what Gemma had found in her computer search.

Now that I’m back on my feet.

Eric probably hadn’t even given it a thought about saying that to her and Kellan. It’d been simply a way of starting his latest taunt. But it had opened a big, wide door for Gemma.

She caught on to Kellan’s arm, pulling him closer so she could show him what was on the laptop. For just a split second he went stiff, maybe because she’d touched him, but it was possible that she looked a little crazy. He might have thought she was losing it.

And then he saw the screen.

The records from a hospital in Mexico City.

“I started doing hospital searches for the last year. Looking for anyone who fit his description. And, yes, some hacking was involved,” she added.

With his eyes fixed on the data, Kellan waved that off, moved out of her grip and went even closer to the screen.

“I figured you’d searched the jails so I excluded those,” Gemma added and waited for Kellan to nod. “So, I decided to go for medical records. Eric obviously used an alias, but that’s him.” She pointed to the name on the file. Joe Hanson. “The SOB used my last name.”

That irritated her, but she pushed it aside, knowing that Eric would have done that with the hopes of her noticing and feeling the sting. Gemma wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Everything fits,” she went on. “The age, height, weight and the small sun tattoo on the inside of his right wrist.” The tat he’d told her that he’d gotten for his eighteenth birthday. To celebrate, he’d said. But now she wondered if it had a sinister meaning, maybe even to mark his first kill.