Jo’s jaw tightened. “Kevin’s searches. You were deleting them.”
“Yes.”
“How did you know it was Kevin?”
“I built a monitoring program years ago. It flags certain keywords—my name, my mother’s name, case numbers my father sent me.” Wyatt paused. “When Kevin’s searches started hitting, I traced the geolocation. His house. That’s how I knew who was digging.”
Jo nodded.
“Someone else was searching too. My father’s people. Same keywords—Binding Chain, witness protection, disposal procedures. But different access level. Read-only. Whoever it was could see everything in the system, but couldn’t change anything.”
“If they can hack in, why do they need you?”
“Because they can look but can’t alter. That’s what I’m for.” Wyatt’s voice was bitter. “I figure it was my father’s people. Probing the system, mapping what exists, preparing for me to destroy it.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I got the geolocation for those too. Motel 8. Just the type of place they would stay.”
Jo went still. “Motel 8?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Shaw is staying at Motel 8.” Jo’s mind was racing. “And she’s on personal leave. No official assignment. Whatever she’s doing here, it’s not Bureau business.”
Wyatt stared at her. “You think Shaw is?—“
“Running searches on the same files? On leave but showing up uninvited? Taking surveillance photos of the station?” Jo’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. I think Shaw might be our problem.”
The implication hung in the air between them. An FBI agent, working with the syndicate. It would explain so much—her unexplained presence, her questions, the way she seemed to have her own agenda.
Wyatt was quiet for a moment, processing. Then he shook his head slowly. “There’s more. Something worse.”
“Tell me.”
Wyatt hesitated. His hands were shaking slightly—Jo could see it even in the dim light. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“I found a list.”
“What kind of list?”
“Loose ends.” The words came out ragged. “People the syndicate is cleaning up. Witnesses from old cases. People who saw things they shouldn’t have, knew things they shouldn’t have known. Names, descriptions, last known locations.”
Jo’s blood went cold. She already knew what he was going to say.
“There was an entry,” Wyatt continued, his voice hollow. “No name. They don’t know who she is yet. But the details—female, mid-twenties eight years ago, involved in disposal of evidence, last seen in the northeast.” He looked up at Jo, and his eyes were wet. “All the details matched. Age. Region. Timeline. The description of her involvement.”
Jo couldn’t breathe. “Bridget.”
“I didn’t know for sure. Not at first.” Wyatt’s voice was desperate now, pleading for her to understand. “But the more I dug, the more the pieces fit. And when Kevin started searching—when I saw what he was looking for, the Binding Chain, disposalprocedures, witness protection—I knew if his searches hit the wrong servers, if the wrong people saw what he was hunting...”
“They’d find her.”
“Yes.” Wyatt’s face crumpled. “So I deleted his searches. Changed some of the details in the file—her age, her description. Anything that might throw them off the trail. I couldn’t let them find her, Jo. Not through me. Not because of something I did or didn’t do.”
Jo stared at him. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
“You’ve been protecting my sister.”