Page 84 of All Along The Watchtower

“I do. Sorry it took me so long. I’ve been digging between assignments, and I was out of the country for most of the past week. Things got a bit complicated down in South America, or I would’ve gotten back to you sooner.”

I didn’t ask doing what. Since he’d left the Navy, he’d taken on a lot of contract work in arenas where it was best no questionswere asked. The less I knew about his activities, the better for everyone involved. I didn’t know him well enough either way, having only met him through Sawyer a handful of times at various gatherings and celebrations. His reputation for getting answers was what mattered. “No worries. I appreciate whatever you can tell me. Anything you found would help at this point.”

“Northwest Global Logistics looks clean on paper,” Dax said. “Import/export business, specializing in Pacific Rim trade. But dig deeper and you find a pattern.”

My fingers clenched around the phone. “What kind of pattern?”

“Employees who ask too many questions tend to disappear. Five in the past three years. Local police wrote them off as voluntary departures, but their families say different.”

I paced across the back patio. “And Casey was looking into this?”

“She was working with the FBI, gathering evidence of whatever illegal shit they’re into. That evidence vanished after her death. Company’s hired multiple PI firms to track it down, but so far, nobody’s had any luck. So they’re taking… some more aggressive measures.”

Everything in me tensed at the sound of that. “Do they know about Peyton?”

“That’s why I called. They started in Portland, but they’ve widened the search. Word is they’ve discovered your paternity claim.”

The blood drained from my face. “How sure are you?”

“Two of their known contractors were spotted in Norfolk day before yesterday. These aren’t the kind of guys you hire for legitimate business.”

“You think they know she’s here?”

“If they don’t yet, they will soon. The paternity claim creates a paper trail.”

I glanced through the sliding glass door, my hand pressed against the cool surface. Peyton and Bree were sorting through boxes of what looked like old photos, both laughing at something, their heads bent close together. The sight of them together squeezed my heart so tight I could barely breathe. They were my family—the one I’d never known I needed until now. I’d just found them. Just brought them together. The thought that someone might try to take this away made my throat close up. I wanted to be able to hold them close without fear of some amorphous threat hanging over our heads, wanted to protect this fragile new happiness we’d stumbled into.

“What do I need to do?” My voice came out rougher than I intended.

“Keep her close. Maybe up security on your house. I’m working on getting more intel about their operations, see if I can’t help the feds along some. But Ford? These people are dangerous. If they think she knows anything…”

“She doesn’t. She’s a child.”

“Doesn’t matter. I doubt they’d take that chance. I certainly wouldn’t risk it if it were my kid.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face, as if that would erase the horror from my expression. “Yeah, no. Of course not. Do you have pictures of the contractors who were seen in Norfolk?”

“Emailing them your way.”

“Good. Thanks, Dax.”

“No problem. I’ll be in touch.”

I stood in the backyard long after I’d hung up the phone, wrestling with what I’d just been told and what to do about it. So long as the information Casey had gathered was out there, Peyton was in danger. But what could I do? I wasn’t law enforcement. And while I’d burn the world to keep my girl safe, that wasn’t enough for the feds to take the company down. Maybe there was something still hidden among the stuff thathad just been delivered. I’d talk to Peyton about it. And I’d share the pictures of the two men Dax had emailed me with her and the rest of my friends and family. Maybe I should pass them on to Chief Carson as well, so island PD was on the lookout.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Locking down the panic that wanted to take hold, I shoved my phone in my pocket and went back inside to deal with the immediate chaos.

Bree was on the phone, one arm wrapped around her middle as she listened to whoever was on the other end and made the occasional “uh huh” noises in reply. I recognized tension in her posture and crossed the room to join her, even as my already jangling nerves stretched tighter.

“I understand. Thank you.”

She hung up, and for a long moment didn’t move. Then she lifted her face to mine. Tears clung to her lashes and my gut twisted. It had to be news about Ed. I braced to catch her, to weather the storm of her devastation. And then… she smiled.

“He’s waking up.”

Before the words had fully penetrated my brain, Bree threw herself at me with a laugh. “He’s waking up!”

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