But what if she does? A tech savvy person like Tamara might think of it. What if we show up to this little house on the outskirts of Harwood only to discover the earrings are a decoy, and Sarah’s not there at all?

Shit.

Is this what it feels like to be on the verge of a panic attack?

Almost like she’s reading my mind, Rhiannon pats my shoulder. “Don’t assume the worst, D. We’ve got a lot of things going for us. First, it hasn’t been that long. The last text from Sarah was at two-fifty-five, and it’s four-thirty now?—”

“That’s over an hour and a half,” I grit out. My jaw clenches as I try to keep from yelling. “Anything could happen in that time.”

“Yes,” Erik interjects. “But Sarah’s smart. She’s good with people. You know she’ll be trying to figure out a way to work Tamara. Convince her to let her go. Stall. Get the upper hand. Something.”

What he’s saying is true, except… What if Sarah’s hurt too badly? What if she’s unconscious? What if she?—

NO.

Not now.

This is not the time to let my fears overtake me.

This is the time to rely on my skills. My training. My experience on dozens of missions. To do what I’d tell any of my teammates to do—concentrate on tactics and details and laser-focused observation. Use everything at my disposal to get in, neutralize the tango, rescue the target, and get out.

But this isn’t just a target. It’s the woman I love.

“Xav wants to know where to stop,” Erik reports, glancing down at his phone. “Do we want to go with the location Rhi suggested?”

“Yes.” As the driver, I don’t have the luxury of meticulously studying the sat images to find the optimal RP. Besides that, I trust Rhiannon. One of her strengths is geographic analysis, so if she thinks this is the best place, that’s what we’ll do.

“It’s going to be about two miles ahead,” Rhiannon says. “You’ll come around a curve, go up a slight incline, and the driveway for the mobile home is on the right.”

Almost time.

Oh, please.

I can’t fail Sarah again.

As I make a right turn onto the dirt driveway Rhiannon described, I can see a small house in the distance to the west of it; ramshackle and overgrown, with a newer sedan parked out front of it.

Tamara’s car?

“Can you have Matt run the license as soon as we’re close enough?” I ask, directing my question to Erik. “To verify she’s there?”

“Absolutely.” Erik whips out a small pair of binoculars from the duffel beside him and peers out the window. Somehow, he manages to read the license plate numbers as we bounce down the bumpy driveway, and taps out a quick text to Matt.

Just as I’m parking behind the rundown mobile home, Erik says, “He got it. The car is registered to Tamara Morris, Boston address. It’s definitely hers.”

My heart jumps at the bit of good news. If Tamara is still here, it’s likely Sarah is, too. If this were just a decoy, Tamara would be long gone by now. And if she’d dumped?—

I can’t even think it.

In the side-view mirror, I watch as Niall and Xavier pull up behind us. They’d both been in San Antonio when Erik called them, picking up some security equipment for their upcoming job, so they were an hour out from Harwood, just like we were.

Rhiannon lifts her chin in the direction of the mobile home. “See the notices on the door? And all the curtains are gone. It’s definitely empty.”

Shutting off the SUV, I turn to her before getting out of the car. “This was a good call, Rhi.”

She gives me a quick nod. “Let’s get in there and rescue Sarah.”

Once we’re huddled together by the front of the house, I look around at my teammates. “Okay. We need one person to recon the house Sarah’s in. Coming in, it looked like most of the windows were boarded over, but we need to be sure. If they’re blocked, that makes our approach a lot easier.”