“Missing,” Dean says flatly, finishing it for me. “Or hiding. Or dead. We don’t know yet.”
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. Salem’s father pays to save her… and then vanishes? That doesn’t smell like a loving parent who just remembered he has a daughter. That smells like fear. Or guilt. Or both. “What else?” I ask, because I already know there’s more. Dean didn’t call just to drop a family bomb.
Dean sighs once. “We dug into Carl.”
My stomach knots. “And?” I bite out.
“We located him and Salem’s mother,” Dean says. “They’re on vacation. Tropics. Resort. Private bungalow. A place that costs more than either of them should be able to afford.”
My hands curl into a fist. Salem’s mother—who barely cares if she exists—suddenly has money for a luxury getaway. While her daughter is trafficked. I feel something dark rise in my chest, slow and poisonous. “That’s not a coincidence,” I say.
“No,” Dean agrees. “It’s not.”
I press a hand to my forehead, forcing my breathing to stay even. “I’ll have to tell her.”
“Not yet,” Dean says. “I wouldn’t tell her until we have something solid and a plan.”
I glance back through the glass again. The warm glow. The safe quiet. The girl in that bed who thinks her mother might miss her.
My throat tightens.
Dean continues, “I have eyes on them. People following. We’re looking into Carl’s connections. We’re running his financials, his travel, his contacts. We’re pulling everything.”
“Good,” I say, voice tight. “Burn him down.”
Dean’s tone turns sharper. “And one more thing.”
I straighten, adrenaline spiking again. “Yeah?”
“The ring,” he says. “It has a name.”
My skin prickles.
“Goldenbell,” Dean says.
The word feels wrong in my mouth—pretty, delicate, harmless. A name designed to hide the rot.
Dean’s voice goes colder. “I believe Serafina is connected to it.”
There it is. Serafina. The woman who circles Dean like a vulture with a grudge. The shadow behind the other shadows. The reason this world keeps colliding—vigilantes and Maddox Security and safehouses and blood.
My grip tightens on the phone again. “You’re sure?”
“No,” Dean says. “But I’m close. I’ve been tracking her for a long time. Goldenbell is the first tangible thread we’ve had that fits her patterns.”
I close my eyes for a second. Salem isn’t just collateral. She’s a piece on a board I didn’t know existed. And someone is moving pieces that shouldn’t even be in play.
Dean’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “We’re closing in, Ozzy.”
I open my eyes. “How close?”
“Close enough that things will get messy,” he says. “Goldenbell won’t go quietly.”
I suck in a breath and exhale slowly.
“Protect her,” Dean orders. Not as a suggestion. As law. “Until I tell you otherwise, Rainmaker is priority.”
“Copy,” I say instantly. “I’m keeping her safe.”