Andy froze at the request. “You think it happened there?” He frowned. “Wouldn’t other people have seen something?”
“Not if it was quick. Tess parks in the employee lot at the back of the building. If no one else was leaving at the same time, it would’ve gone unnoticed.” He paused. “And if someone had seen it, they would’ve reported it. That’s why I want to see the camera feeds. If it happened there, we might be able to ID a vehicle or some of the gang members. If it happened somewhere else...” He let the rest go unsaid.
He had to run this like any other investigation. One critical step at a time.
Andy swallowed. “I can get in—unless it’s an internal system with no remote access or something heavily guarded, like a federal core system.”
“It’s neither of those. In fact, it’s an older setup. They’ve been talking about upgrading it for years.”
Relief and confidence flashed across the kid’s face. “Then I can do it without tripping any alarms or leaving any footprints behind. No problem.”
Brian exhaled slowly. “Good. Get to it.”
Andy didn’t hesitate. Grabbing his laptop from the couch, he dropped into a chair at the dining table, shoulders hunching as his focus narrowed. Fear seemed to burn off, replaced by something sharper. His fingers flew over the keys, movements quick and sure. Brian stayed close, standing just behind his shoulder, eyes flickering between the screen, the back door, and a clock on the wall by the kitchen.
“Got it. I’m in.”
Brian blinked. That was... fast. “Already?”
Andy nodded, his eyes locked on the screen. “Older systems are low-hanging fruit.”
“Huh?”
That earned him a snort. “Means it was easy.”
“Ah.” He stared at the screen as the camera list populated, one after another. Andy skimmed them with practiced efficiency, scrolling without hesitation.
“Look for the one labeled rear parking lot or employee lot—something like that,” Brian instructed.
“Here it is.” Andy clicked on the folder, and a live feed filled the screen—grainy, but steady. The lot was mostly empty—only a few vehicles remained, including Tess’s. Long shadows stretched across the pavement. “Looks like we can just rewind from here.”
“Go back to four-fifteen.”
“She texted me at four-twenty-eight. I checked it again while you were outside.”
“Then give it a little cushion in case she was already outside when she texted,” Brian said. “Four-twenty-five.”
Andy dragged the timeline back, the footage ticking down minute by minute. He pressed “Play” at the correct time, and they both watched with bated breath.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Tess entered the frame on foot, walking toward her car, with her purse tucked under her arm. She looked tired, distracted—done with her day.
Brian leaned closer, his chest tightening. This is it.
When she was halfway across the lot, digging into her purse, probably for her keys, a white van tore into view from the far entrance—too fast for the narrow aisle. Tess jerked sideways as it cut sharply across the frame and braked beside her, its bulk blocking the camera’s view of her.
All Brian could do was watch helplessly as seconds ticked by. His pulse slammed in his ears.
Suddenly, the van lurched forward again and accelerated out of frame. Tess was gone, leaving only the space where she’d stood and her car waiting in the background.
Andy’s breath caught. “She just... disappeared.”
“Back it up to right before it speeds off.” Brian calmly slipped back into investigator mode. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions get the best of him. Tess needed him to be clear-headed. “Play it again in slow-mo.”
Andy rewound the footage, then let it go forward, frame by frame. Brian tracked the van’s departure again. “Stop it right there! Can you zoom in on the plate?”
“No problem.”
The image sharpened just enough to make out the license plate beneath the rear bumper. Brian memorized it, every number locking into place, then stepped away—putting distance between himself and the screen before the moment Tess vanished burned itself too deep.