“Someone’s been monitoring my searches. Deleting files in real time.” Kevin’s jaw tightened. “At first I thought it was a glitch, maybe a virus. But it kept happening. Every time I found something connected to the Binding Chain, it vanished.”
Jo’s mind was already working. “You were searching law enforcement databases.”
“Some of it, yeah. Court records, federal files, archived case notes.”
“Which means whoever’s deleting your searches has access to those systems.” Jo felt the pieces clicking together. “Remember what Shaw said in the briefing? Cooper thought there was someone inside law enforcement working with this organization.”
Kevin nodded grimly. “And now we know she was right. Someone with database access is actively covering tracks.”
“So you set a trap,” Jo said. It wasn’t a question.
Kevin nodded. “Fake documents. A fictional case number, a made-up informant—specific enough to look real, butcompletely fabricated. Something that would only matter to someone who knew what I was searching for.” He paused. “I saved the files, left them visible on my system. Checked them that night—still there. Next morning? Gone. Deleted overnight.”
Jo’s mind raced. “Wyatt.”
“That’s what I think. He’s got the skills. The access. And he’s been acting off for weeks—you’ve seen it too.”
Jo had. The way Wyatt flinched at his phone. The tension in his shoulders. The way he volunteered for tasks that kept him near a computer.
“But there’s something else.” Kevin glanced at Bridget, then back at Jo. “I found partial records before they were wiped. An internal list from the organization. Names, descriptions, notes on people they’re looking for.”
Jo’s stomach dropped. “Bridget’s name?”
“No. But there was a description.” Kevin’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Female. Late teens at the time of involvement. Auburn hair. Distinctive scar on the left forearm. Ran with a crew in Portland before relocating to the Northeast. Participated in cleanup operations. Witness to leadership.”
Bridget’s voice was hollow. “That’s me. Every detail.”
Jo sat back, processing. Her sister. Her team. Everything tangled together in ways she was only beginning to understand.
“There’s something else you should know,” Jo said slowly. “I had Mick look into both FBI agents. Keller checks out—clean record, legitimate investigation into his partner’s murder.” She paused. “But Shaw’s different. She’s on personal leave. No official assignment. Whatever she’s doing here, it’s not Bureau business.”
Kevin frowned. “So she’s running her own investigation?”
“Looks like it. I caught her taking surveillance photos of the station yesterday. Back entrance, parking lot, officers’ vehicles.She gave me some line about standard procedure, but she was lying.”
Bridget’s face had gone pale. “So there’s someone inside the department who might be compromised, and an FBI agent running a secret investigation into the same people who—“ She couldn’t finish.
“Who might be looking for you,” Jo finished quietly. “Yeah.”
The room fell silent. Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows.
Jo stood, her face hardening into the mask she wore when she was working a case. The emotions—the shock, the hurt, the fear for her sister—she pushed them down, locked them away. She could deal with those later.
Right now, she had work to do.
“Don’t do anything yet,” she said, her voice steady now. “Either of you. Don’t change your behavior, don’t ask questions, don’t let Wyatt—or Shaw—know we suspect anything.”
“Jo—“ Bridget started.
“I mean it.” Jo turned to look at her sister, and some of the hardness softened. “I believe you. I understand why you kept this secret. But right now, the best thing you can do is act normal. Go to work. Bake your cookies. Don’t give anyone a reason to think anything’s changed.”
“What are you going to do?” Kevin asked.
“First thing tomorrow, I’m talking to Sam. He needs to know what we’re dealing with.” Jo’s jaw tightened. “Then we figure out what Wyatt’s actually doing. Whether he’s compromised or being coerced. What Shaw’s really after. How all of this connects.”
She paused, looking back at them—Kevin with his hand still on Bridget’s shoulder, Bridget with tears drying on her cheeks, both of them watching her with a mix of fear and hope.
“And Bridge?” Jo’s voice softened. “We’ll deal with the rest of it later. All of it. But right now, I need you safe. Can you do that for me?”