She nodded. They could at least exclude the twins’ mother from their list of suspects. Lilly Reeves had passed away giving birth to them six years ago. Ana struggled to control the racing pulse at the base of her skull. Benning had asked for her help with this case, but given the last time they’d been in the same room—the same bed—she didn’t understand why. A single phone call had changed everything between them, and he’d moved on. He’d married a woman in town and had children not long after Ana had left. Now she was expected to reinsert herself back into his life in order to find his missing son.
There were far more qualified agents to handle this investigation, agents who hadn’t put their entire career at risk because of one wrong decision. Agents who didn’t have a personal connection to the case. What was she supposed to say to him after all these years? They hadn’t spoken since that night, despite the small part of her that’d urged her to reach out, to reconnect with the only person she just couldn’t seem to detach herself from. She swallowed through the tightness in her throat. No matter what’d happened between her and Benning, she couldn’t let emotion cloud her judgment this time. A little boy’s life was at risk.
“I’ll look into the traffic cameras.” Agent JC Cantrell shoved to his feet, locking light green eyes on her as he stood. Specializing in surveillance operations, the former soldier led most of TCD’s surveillance ops, but whether those ops were completely legal was another question. Right now Ana didn’t care. There was a six-year-old boy out there—alone and afraid. This was what their division had been trained for, what she’d been trained for. She wouldn’t make the same mistake with this case as she had when Benning had been in her life the first time. JC headed for the door, Duran at his side. “With any kind of luck, I’ll have a license plate for you and a location of the getaway vehicle in the next hour.”
“Keep me in the loop and stay close to your phones. I’ll call you if I need you.” Ana pushed away from the conference table to stand, her long, dark hair inherited from her Hispanic father sliding over her shoulder in front of her. Sevierville wasn’t far, only thirty miles southeast of TCD headquarters here in Knoxville, but if she wanted to interview Benning’s daughter before the girl’s medical team gave permission to local PD, she had to leave now. With a nod toward Director Pembrook, she pushed her chair into the edge of the table. “I’ll brief you as soon as I’m finished interviewing Olivia Benning.”
“Be careful, Ramirez.” The director’s voice carried across the conference room, stopping Ana in her escape toward the double glass doors. The weight of those steel-gray eyes drilled straight through her. “I assigned you this case because you have a connection to the victim’s father and he’s made it clear he won’t play nice with anyone else, but don’t let your emotions and that connection get in the way of doing your job.” Pembrook’s voice softened. “We can’t afford to lose anyone else. Understand?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but she couldn’t turn around. She couldn’t face the reality of Jill Pembrook’s warning. Gravity increased its natural pull on her body. The backs of her knees shook as a fresh wave of memories penetrated the barrier she’d built over the past seven years. She curled her fingernails into the centers of her palms, and just as quickly as they’d charged forward, she closed the lid to the box at the back of her mind. She’d gotten good at that. Compartmentalizing, detaching herself from feeling the things she didn’t want to admit to herself. Especially when it came to Benning Reeves. But underneath the numbness and denial, Ana understood the director’s advice. Getting Benning’s son home to his family would be her last chance to save her career. She’d failed a victim once. She wouldn’t let it happen again. “Yes, ma’am.”
BENNING REEVES CROSSED the small room for the eighth—or was it the ninth?—time in as many minutes. It’d been almost five hours since he’d woken in the middle of his house, his children gone. And Olivia... He slowed at the side of her hospital bed. Her small body nearly disappeared in the heaping of pillows and blankets he’d packed around her as her chest rose and fell in smooth, rhythmic breaths. The sedative the nurse had given her would keep his daughter unconscious for the next few hours. It was the only way to ensure her brain would get the rest it needed. He smoothed her short brunette hair away from her face. Truth was, the doctors had no idea if her memories would come back. Something about trauma-induced amnesia. Dissociative? She’d barely remembered her brother’s name when she’d been questioned, let alone what’d happened to him after she’d escaped the SUV.
Tremors racked through his hand, and he forced himself to back away for fear of waking her. The kidnapper should’ve made contact by now, given him further instructions or proof of life. His ears rang. He needed to be out there looking for his son, but he didn’t dare leave Olivia here on her own, either. Not after what she’d been through. Heat built in his chest. Someone had broken into his home, knocked him unconscious and taken his children. All because of what’d he found on that construction site.
The fire spread under his skin, and he closed his eyes as the all-too-familiar feeling of instability he’d kept in check all these years
