“And Agent Cooper was investigating them?” Sam asked.
“He’d made progress. Significant progress.” Keller’s jaw tightened, and for a moment his composure cracked. “Then three days ago, he missed his check-in. I knew—“ He stopped, shook his head. “I hoped I was wrong.”
The room was quiet. Even Major had gone still on top of the filing cabinet.
“You think they made him?” Kevin asked gently.
“I think they did more than that.” Keller’s voice was rough. He pointed to the photos, but his hand wasn’t quite steady. “This wasn’t just a murder. It was a message. To us. To anyone thinking of investigating them.” He turned to face them, and there was something raw in his expression—grief barely held in check by professional discipline. “They’re telling us they can get to anyone, anywhere. Even federal agents.”
Wyatt’s stomach twisted. His phone buzzed again in his pocket.
Sam’s eyes narrowed, but there was understanding in them now. “You have suspects?”
“Several organizations we’re looking into.” Keller pulled a folder from his briefcase—Wyatt hadn’t even noticed he was carrying one—and handed it to Sam. “Everything I can share is in there. I know this is your jurisdiction, and I know how federal involvement can feel like an intrusion. But Cooper was...” He paused, collecting himself. “Cooper was a good man. A good agent. I want to find who did this. I’m hoping we can work together.”
Sam took the folder, studying Keller for a long moment. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him, because he nodded. “Jo, I want you coordinating with Agent Keller. Kevin, workwith forensics on those carpet fibers. Wyatt, help Jo compile the evidence we have so far.”
Wyatt nodded, grateful for a task that would keep him close to what was happening. His phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number:Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.
“I appreciate this, Chief,” Keller said. “I know it’s not easy, having the Bureau walk into your house. But these people—they’re professionals. They have eyes everywhere. If we’re going to catch them, we need to share what we know.”
“Understood.” Sam’s voice had lost some of its earlier edge. “We’ll handle it carefully.”
Lucy had settled at Sam’s feet, still watching Keller but no longer on high alert.
Major’s tail flicked once, twice. The cat’s gaze never wavered.
“Alright,” Sam said. “Let’s get to work. Jo, my office. Everyone else, you have your assignments.”
Wyatt stood, phone heavy in his pocket. As he turned to leave, he caught Sam watching him with that careful look he’d been giving him lately.
They knew something was wrong with him.
But they had no idea how wrong.
Or how deep this went.
The stakes had just gotten impossibly high.
And Wyatt had no choice but to play along.
For now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bridget pushed open the glass doors of the White Rock Police Station, the familiar scent of burnt coffee and old paper hitting her immediately. She adjusted the bakery box in her arms and glanced toward the reception desk where Reese was shuffling papers.
Reese looked up, then at the box, then back at Bridget. A slow smile spread across her face.
“Tell me that’s for me.”
Bridget grinned. “Jo told me you guys found a body in the woods. Figured you could use some sugar.”
Reese leaned back in her chair, eyes flicking toward the hallway that led to Sam’s office. “You’re a smart woman, Bridget. They’re all in Sam’s office. Probably still complaining about the FBI.”
“Perfect.” Bridget lifted the box slightly. “You get first pick, though.”