Page 9 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

“Afghanistan, Syria, and Africa,” Cain murmured.

“You know all that?”

Cain shrugged. “Not the redacted stuff, but the main thrust of it, yes.”

“Tell me how they haven’t worked out that Aubrey Mitchell is actually August Fox, and why they haven’t connected him to the murder of his husband?”

“There were a few key pieces of background information and deception. It wasn’t common knowledge outside of August’s black ops leader. No one knew he and James weren’t really married, it was part of his cover. A change of identity was a given, a new name and an elaborate backstory with falsified records to match.” Simon glanced at me, and from his expression, I got the feeling there was something else happening here, and I didn’t question it. He cleared his throat. “The Cooper River Cartel would have no reason to suspect August.”

“I understand that.” I gathered as much patience as I could, given my expertise with technology. I might not be on the same level as Sanctuary, but I was good enough to know not everyone could hide. “But, Cain, back me up here, no one is completely untraceable, so what are we walking into?”

Cain let Simon answer, but he shot me a look that spoke volumes, and I knew for sure, it had been him who’d created a backstory and audit trail that would stand any test.

“Don’t forget there’s been a significant time gap between the incident involving his pretend family and August’s infiltration into the cartel. The cartel targeted James Lerner as a message to the DA on a case against Colter Diaz, one of their remaining lieutenants.” Simon paused and glanced at me, because that was exactly what he’d said. “The cartel is structured into cells, and four of the seven lieutenants are gone. Three arrested on August’s intel, and one dead, throat slit, and his body dumped outside a nightclub.”

“So, the cartel is responsible for killing the girl’s father, August goes undercover to get closer, I get that, but why did the cartel take the girl in the first place?”

“We have a working idea,” Cain said, and exchanged glances with Simon.

“Go on.”

“James Lerner had intel on the Cooper River Cartel, documentation that tied the incumbent DA to some shady dealings. He was only days away from presenting a completed case to those who could deal with it.”

“Which is why he was taken out, but again, this doesn’t explain taking his daughter.”

“Whoever killed James, might have seen his daughter as nothing more than collateral, maybe not significant in their line of work. After all, it appears they targeted James as a warning to anyone digging around the DA’s office. Why the cartel is still keeping her is a mystery, but maybe she’s being groomed because she’s too young for trafficking.”

“Jesus Christ.” I felt sick.

All three of us were silent, then Simon continued. “How she ended up in this compound, at this time, we don’t know, but that is where August is, and we are now in over our heads backing him up. The intel he gave us on the cartel so far included detailed instructions about leaving him the fuck alone, his words not ours, to concentrate on getting his daughter out. End of story.”

“Then, let’s get it done.” I was ready to get into the thick of it.

“We’re coordinating with local and federal agencies,” Simon began, “but this is the location we have from August’s intel,” Simon said, his voice a mix of determination and concern as he pointed to the screen. It showed a house embedded in the thick foliage of the Francis Marion National Forest.

I leaned over, studying the image, watching as Simon spread his fingers apart to zoom in, until the images pixelated.

The main building, a sprawling structure of stone, seemed to emerge from the forest itself. The fences that surveillance had picked up under the canopy were imposing, tall, shadowed by towering trees cut back to keep this space clear, giving the impression of a fortress hidden away from the world. The roof was steep and angular, and heavy blinds and bars shrouded the house’s occasional windows.

It was clear this was no ordinary residence; it had the air of a stronghold, designed for privacy and defense. I could make out the faint outlines of what appeared to be guard posts. The dense canopy of the forest provided camouflage, shielding the house from prying eyes, making it almost a part of the landscape.

“How does a place like this even exist?” I muttered, more to myself than Simon.

“Money,” he deadpanned.

“And no trail on the money to anyone bankrolling this.”

“Nothing.”

The surrounding terrain was rugged and untamed. Thick underbrush and clusters of trees created a natural barrier, while the uneven ground hinted at hidden pitfalls and treacherous footpaths. It was easy to see how approaching this place undetected would be a challenge.

But I could handle this.

Despite its isolation, there was something deliberate about its placement. Every aspect of the house and its surroundings seemed calculated for maximum security and strategic advantage. It went beyond being just a hideout; it was a command center from which operations could be overseen with an iron grip. The spider sitting at the center of the web.

And whoever it was, August told us this was where the child was.

As I studied the image, I couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for the mind that had chosen this location. They knew what they were doing, and they’d done it well. But that only bolstered my determination. No matter how well-fortified, no stronghold was impregnable. We would find a way in. We had to. For the little girl called Annie.

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