Page 12 of Stolen Beauty

“I’m just picking up vibes, man. And in my experience, women don’t drive for a week straight to get help. Her ‘Oh, I didn’t think to call the police’ raises questions. And ‘My dead brother left me a note two years ago’ isn’t the best excuse either. But if you’re positive she’s not some psycho stalker, I’ll drop it. I’ll sleep with a gun by my bedside and the window open in case I hear gunshots at night, but I’ll drop it.”

“Jesus, Max. Stalker?” I give him a lethal glare, disgusted by where his thoughts are going. “If you have questions that will help us figure this out, fine. But watch how you ask the questions. Don’t make her feel like she’s a suspect.”

“Noted. Just be careful you’re thinking with the bigger head.” The guy can be a total fuckwad. “The scenario she’s drawing doesn’t hold water, which doesn’t make her a suspect, but it does mean there are questions.”

“What scenario has she drawn?” I’m gonna lose it on him any second now.

“Someone kidnaps her sister and then sends a hitman to kill her. And her brother packed her guns and ammo in a duffel bag.” Max steps forward, hands on his hips. “Let me repeat that. A hitman. I know she’s your friend, and she’s our teammate’s little sister, but we gotta look at all the angles here. Who sends a hitman to Asheville-in-the-middle-of-bumfuck Carolina? Let’s say someone has her sister. Why worry about a sibling? What could she possibly do? She lives in a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s the age of the Internet,” I say with an edge. But he isn’t wrong. We need to look at all angles. Why would anyone consider Sage a threat? Why would Sam prepare her for this scenario?

“Not to mention. Did you see what Erik sent over?” Another one of Arrow’s founding partners, he heads the tech side along with a woman named Kairi. They work interchangeably, only Erik is a gruff bastard while Kairi is always amenable. “She’s got hundreds of friends on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and TikTok. You don’t think one of those friends might have been a better choice than driving cross-country?”

“I told you. She’s a sweetheart. She’s the type of person with a lot of connections. But that doesn’t mean they’re close connections.” Erik’s still looking into both of the Watson sisters. He only shared the account information for me to verify he was looking at the right person, but he’s got a team diving deep. He says there could be leads in those posts and comments.

The two of us don’t have social accounts. We deleted them ages ago as we climbed ranks. But, from what I remember, you could become friends with someone you barely knew, or even not at all. The report also said that her posts were school-related, and she hadn’t posted since June. The woman is a kindergarten teacher. Where does Max get off being so suspicious of her?

Frustration rips through me. I pace in front of Max, sorting through his points.

The front door opens. Sage holds out my phone. “Someone’s calling. I thought you might want to get it.” She glances between me and Max. “Everything okay?”

With four broad steps, I reach her and take the phone. “It’s Erik.” I hold the phone up to Max so he can see our colleague and the source of our background reports is the guy on the line. Pushing the door open wider, I gesture for Sage to head back inside where the dog awaits her. “Everything’s fine,” I reassure her, then with a press of the button, answer Erik’s call on speaker, following her back inside. “Hey, man. Did you learn anything?”

“Am I on speaker?”

Max enters and closes the door with a slam. His hiking boots thud on the wood.

“That you are,” I announce, giving Max a look that I hope communicates to quiet the fuck down.

“Can you pick up?” Max’s gaze catches mine. My heart rate kicks up a notch. I select the phone option, then press it to my ear.

“You’re off. What’s up?”

“The woman who arrived at your house. We got it right? Her name is Sage Emory Watson?”

“Yep.”

“Age twenty-nine. Birthdate November twenty-second, 1994?”

“Yeah.” Trusting, concerned, baby brown eyes meet mine. I wink, letting Sage know everything will be fine. “That all sounds right.”

“She’s listed as missing. Her house burnt down three days ago. Arson is suspected, but the investigation is ongoing.”

CHAPTER 6

Sage

Knox’s jaw clenches, and he jams the phone flat up against his head. His fingers cover his other ear. What he’s hearing isn’t good.

When you witness bad news being delivered frequently enough, you develop an instinct, almost like a sixth sense. When his troubled eyes meet mine, I know. My stomach bottoms out.

“Is it Sloane?” Knox’s Adam’s apple flexes in his throat. “Is she hurt?” Movements slow around me. Max steps closer. Millie’s nose rubs my fingers. The scent of vinegar tickles my nose.

“Nothing like that,” Knox says. “I’m gonna put this back on speaker. So if you have questions, you can ask Erik.”

“Who’s Erik?”

Max answers from behind me. “Our tech guy. He manages a team of worker bees all over the world. Give him a keyboard with Wi-Fi, and he can find anything.”

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