Page 58 of High Intensity

“Actually, her uncle is very concerned about her and is supposed to arrive in the coming days.”

“Wasn’t he stuck in Guatemala?” Wolff asks, putting his hand on my shoulder in a possessive gesture.

Bellinger closely observes the move before lifting his eyes to his former colleague.

“Not for much longer. With the help of embassy personnel, he is currently being transported to Mexico, where we have resources waiting to fly him here.”

Thank God. Having family here will be good for Hayley. Maybe it’ll be a start for her to begin processing and healing from the trauma she endured. Nothing worse than feeling utterly alone in the world when you have a heavy burden to bear.

“Any luck tracking down the guys who paid us a visit last night?” Wolff pushes for more answers.

“We’re working on it. We’re still processing the scene.”

The scene. I’m assuming he’s talking about my house.

“What would they want with me in the first place?”

Bellinger shifts his attention to me and shrugs.

“This would be speculation only, but it’s possible they were hoping you could lead them to the girl. We were able to quietly move her from the hospital yesterday afternoon, but they must’ve found out she was gone. We suspect they had a contact in the hospital.”

“Staff?” Wolff wants to know.

“Possibly. We’re narrowing it down,” Bellinger dismisses him and addresses me. “But these people are dangerous, determined, and ruthless. They’ll have no qualms going through you to get to the girl, and one failed attempt will not deter them for long. And next time you—or your dogs—may not be so lucky. You really should come with us.”

He’s dead wrong if he thinks that comment will sway me. All it does is piss me off, and I also think he’s wrong.

“And what would that accomplish, other than point a giant arrow at my head? All it’ll do is reaffirm the notion I have information they’re looking for. Which, I’ll remind you, I don’t.”

Wolff squeezes my shoulder as he throws in his two cents.

“She has a point, and you know it.” Then he adds more aggressively. “Unless, of course, that is exactly what you’re counting on. Were you hoping to use her to draw them out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bellinger blusters, but I can tell by the reaction of Agent Cohen—who has lingered in the background—Wolff hit a mark.

Angry now, I slip from Wolff’s hold and march to the door of his cabin, flinging it wide open.

“I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome,” I bite off, trying with all my might to hold on to my temper.

Bellinger opens his mouth to say something but, wisely, thinks better of it as he starts walking out, his partner in tow. As soon as Cohen steps out on the porch, I fling the door shut with a bang. Wolff nods his approval when I turn to face him.

“They were gonna use me as bait,” I grumble, still seething.

“Yup.”

“Is that normal FBI practice?”

“I wouldn’t say normal, but it’s not uncommon,” he answers cautiously.

“Assholes,” I vent. “I can see why you left.”

He doesn’t stop me when I walk past him, heading for the spare bedroom where we left the dogs to sleep off the remnants of the drug in their systems. We still don’t know what it may have been they were given, but as I understand it, samples of Nugget’s and Hunter’s blood were sent to the lab first thing this morning.

I was still in bed when the vet texted with an update on Nugget and Hunter. She’d put both of them on an IV and has been trying to flush the drugs from their systems. It’s been more successful on Hunter, who is apparently awake and responsive, although still a little sluggish. Nugget is a little slower to perk up, but Doc Richards was cautiously optimistic. I want to go check on them with everything in me but, as Wolff pointed out before the FBI agents showed up, it’s safer for me to stay put and trust my pups are receiving the best possible care.

Peanut lifts her head when I walk in. All three dogs are sprawled on the double mattress, having had to leave their own beds at home. They even made me leave their food and water bowls behind, which Wolff later explained would be standard protocol in the case of a possible poisoning. The only things I was able to bring were their collars and leashes.

I flop down on the bed and snuggle my pups. All three have their tails wagging, thumping the mattress. I gratefully receive kisses as I spoil them with attention.

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