Page 84 of Loco

“I want Dahl out,” the mayor said bluntly. “Man’s too clean. He’s in the way. Start planning. I don’t care how.”

The recording cut out.

“I already called Ned,” Judd said, shutting the laptop. He just laughed and said it’s one of ten death threats he gets a week, but I called his security detail anyway. They’re on alert.”

I glanced at Judd. “This about Cyn?”

His mouth twitched, but he didn’t deny it.

“Partly,” he admitted. “But Ned’s one of the few left who still gives a damn about doing the right thing. We lose him, and we lose a hell of a lot more than a politician.”

I nodded, but my mind had already shifted. “You said Imogen and Kapono were going through the digital evidence?”

“Yeah,” Judd confirmed. “Kapono’s already flagged three potential names, and Imogen’s checking for coded entries in our information. If there’s a trail, they’ll find it.”

They would, I trusted them with my life.

But then Judd looked at me again, a different kind of concern in his voice. “None of Sayla’s trackers are pinging. Was she wearing the ring?”

A cold wave washed over me, and I swore under my breath. “No, she takes her jewelry off at night.”

My mind reeled, racing through every mental image I had of that morning. Her work shoes had been sitting by the front door, right where she always left them. Her purse, too. Her phone was still in my back pocket. She hadn’t grabbed anything before she’d been taken, which meant every tracker we had—her purse, her shoes, her car, her phone, the ring—all of it was useless.

They’d taken her and the kids into the night without leaving so much as a breadcrumb behind. Now, it was just silence and shadows, stretching out endlessly in every direction.

I had never felt more helpless in my life. The weight of that realization settled in my chest like a stone—heavy, unmoving, and cold enough to steal my breath. It wasn’t just the fear of not knowing where they were—it was the idea that they couldbe anywhere, enduring anything, and I was standing here with nothing but gut instinct and secondhand scraps of evidence to go on.

But helpless didn’t mean hopeless. I wouldn’t let it. I couldn’t let it.

If there was even the faintest trace left to find, I knew Kapono and Imogen would uncover it. The two could see through smoke and static, find order in chaos, and pull answers from the smallest, most insignificant fragments. If the trail were faint, they’d sharpen it. If it were buried, they’d dig it out.

And if there wasn’t a trail at all, I’d carve one out with my bare hands. I had no choice because there was no version of this story where I didn’t bring them home.

Judd’s phone buzzed, vibrating against the hood of the truck where he’d set it. He glanced at the screen and picked up immediately, putting it on speaker without a word. I could tell by the crease between his brows that whatever he was hearing wasn’t good.

“It’s Imogen,” his voice was tight.

From the other end, her tone was urgent but level. “Kapono’s been checking some of the vehicles we tagged. Most of them parked or stayed close to town, but one stood out. It passed by Roque’s house right after he left.”

My heart kicked hard in my chest.

Imogen continued, “He ran the plates. It's registered to one of the property companies linked to the mayor's office. He’s tracked it to a residential address in the center of Palmerstown—it’s parked at a house near the old square.”

Judd straightened, already more alert. “He’s there now?”

“He was headed that way for a drive-by,” she replied, “but he passed a van driving toward him on the way there. Said it looked beat-up, but the shape and size matched the one from the scene. He was going to see if—” The line went dead.

Judd pulled the phone from the hood and looked at the screen like it might explain something, but the call had dropped clean.

“Shit,” he muttered, “signal’s gone. Towers are still spotty this far out after the storm.”

But my gut twisted. The timing was too perfect, too sudden.

Keir stepped closer. “You think someone cut her signal?”

“I don’t know,” Judd said, already redialing. “But I don’t like it.”

I stared at the horizon, the morning light finally settling across the trees like a cruel mockery of peace. Somewhere out there, Kapono was either driving into something or already had.

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