Page 93 of Lost and Found

Wes headed her way.

Her chin snapped up, anger flaring in her expression as she gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“What’s wrong?”

She held it up with an iron grip. “A text from an unknown number.”

Hiding won’t work. Choose a different story.

He tapped the screen to pull up photos of her empty carport and office—taken through the narrow glass window by the door, lit by a flashlight beam. This guy hadn’t taken long to realize she’d left town.

“Mom,” Matt called, arching backward to get the longest downward arc, “you’re not pushing.”

Wes moved in, waiting for the backswing, then rocketed Matt forward. He squealed at the top of his lungs. The woman pushing her kid next to Matt arched her eyebrows. A few other adults looked over as Matt flew high. Some laughed. Others judged. Wes shrugged. Matt was having a blast. It wasn’t as if he’d launched the kid onto the soccer field. “First time pushing on the swings. What are you gonna do?”

Bailey scowled at her phone, swiping through the pictures again. “I still don’t have a clue. Not a single stupid guess who killed Caitie. In New York. Years ago. And yet, somehow, he knows that I am not at home. Seriously,” anger grew in her voice, “how is it possible?”

Electronic surveillance. Someone in the police department was paid off. A leak from Titan Group—that had happened years ago with Callum and Grace and never been completely smoked out. A tracker on her car or on her laptop. He could go on, but she sounded more rhetorical.

“I’ve been doxxed,” she pressed on. “Yelled at. Called every name in the book. But never this. It’s ridiculous and unhinged.”

“It means you’re close.” Wes pushed Matt again. This time, not as hard. No need to accidentally send Matt into orbit.

“You keep saying that, and we’re stuck with nothing of any substance.”

“We noticed a pattern this morning.” He pushed Matt again, and shrieks of delight followed. “We’ll let Dean try to trace the message—”

“He’ll turn up nothing but a dummy account.”

“Or maybe not. Dean will find something from the key and Ryan’s cell.” It’d only been an hour since they left his office, but Wes hoped Dean had nothing else to work on that morning. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Really, he’s magic with sniffing out electronic trails.”

Bailey shoved her phone into her bag again and crossed her arms, watching Wes push Matt, and the anger on her face tightened into fear.

“Matty’s okay,” he offered quietly. “He’s safe. You’re safe. I’m tracking both of you.”

Their eyes locked. Her lips rolled together, and she dropped her chin. “I’ve lost two people close to me.”

Fear wasn’t theoretical to her. She’d buried two people she loved. He wanted to protect her from ever knowing that again. “I promise. Nothing will happen to Matt or you.”

She bit her lip. “I know.”

He didn’t know if she truly believed him. All Wes could do was keep them safe.

“If this wasn’t Caitie’s case…” She shook her head, disappointed in herself. “I might’ve dropped it.”

“I don’t know if that’s true. You’re a bulldog with a bone when it comes to an investigation. You’re finding a way to do what needs to be done while letting me keep an eye out.” Wes’s phone vibrated. He pushed Matt, then checked the screen. “It’s Dean,” he said, answering. “Hey.”

“I have news on the key.”

Excellent. They needed good news. “What do you know?”

“It’s custom-made. Heavy-duty. Telescopic pin technology. This is the kind of key that banks and military installations rely on to avoid key duping.”

Strange Ryan would have it to begin with. “Can you pinpoint the manufacturer?”

“Not yet, but I’ve narrowed it down. It’s one of a kind, that’s for sure. Bailey’s sure she doesn’t know why Ryan would have anything like that?”

“Nope. Not the first clue.” He shifted the phone to the other hand so he could keep pushing Matt. “Another thing to loop you in on: she received a message on her cell from an unknown number. Pictures too.”