Page 146 of Better the Devil

‘Should we get Tyler and Sinead back in?’ Ben asked.

‘No. Not yet. Leave them,’ Logan said.

Dave put a finger in his ear, gave a quiet acknowledgement, then turned in his chair. ‘No sign of anyone at Curtis Neil’s address.’

‘Shite!’ Logan hissed.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, arms folded, fingers drumming as he studied the board, trying to make sense of it all. Everything they’d gathered, everything he’d heard.

Herbag.

Hercar.

‘Wait!’ Fleck cried. He hurried back to the desk he’d been using and opened up a web browser. ‘Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!’

‘What?’ Logan demanded. ‘You got something?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe. Give me one sec,’ Fleck said.

He looked up at the ceiling, then shut his eyes, concentrating. Then, he held his breath as he typed a few characters and hit the Return key.

‘Yes! I’m in.’

Logan and Ben both joined him at his desk. The web browser showed a very simple webpage full of animated GIFs and colourful typefaces.

‘The hell’s this?’ Ben asked.

‘It’s the HAWKS membership site,’ Fleck told him. He clicked randomly through a lengthy menu of several dozen options. ‘I think… If I can just…’

A final click brought up a map of the whole north of Scotland. A few dozen dots covered it like a dose of the measles. Fleck found a dropdown menu up near the top and clicked on it, revealing a list of names.

He started to type, and by the time he’d reached the second letter of Curtis’s name, only one dot remained on the map. It blinked on and off, drawing attention to itself.

‘Yes! His vest. He’s got his vest with him. The tracker. He’s got the tracker on!’

‘Where is that?’ Ben asked, squinting at the screen. ‘Looks like it’s in the Cairngorms.’

Fleck turned the scroll wheel of the computer mouse, zooming in. The dot stayed the same size, but the terrain around it grew. It zoomed in on the mountain range, in on the dirt track, in on the little square building miles from anywhere.

A bothy.

A bothy in the shadow of the Cairngorm Mountains.

At the foot of The Devil’s Point.

The thought that was trying to claw its way out of Logan’s head forced him to screw his eyes shut.

Her car.

Her bag.

Her first husband.

Jack’s eyes snapped open.

Oh, God.

‘Gavin, get your car round front. We’ll take that,’ Logan barked.