Page 55

Ashby flips a page. “There’s more. He has one sister, Maggie, who’s missing.”

Missing?

I exchange a glance with Briggs while my chest pulls tight.

A voice surfaces before I can stop it. Tight. Controlled. Coming from beside me thirty thousand feet in the air.

My sister is missing.

I stare at the table, telling myself not to follow that thought… willing Briggs to keep quiet.

He leans forward, massive forearms braced on the table. “Missing how?”

“Unknown. That’s the problem,” Ashby replies.

“When did this happen?” Briggs asks, not looking at me.

Ashby shakes his head. “Details are thin. But Laurel is back because of her.”

Shit.

Laurel. No denying it’s her now.

Sitting beside me on a plane, voice taut, a wire pulled too far. Her hand clutching mine like a vice. Her mouth…

I take another drink.

Ashby’s watching Briggs now, but I can feel the edge of his attention flick toward me, measuring my reaction. He’s always measuring.

“Okay,” he says. “What do you know?”

“Not enough.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Ashby shrugs. “It’s the only honest one I’ve got right now.”

Briggs exhales through his nose. Irritation. The contained kind. “A missing woman is a problem. One related to Ben…”

“Agreed.”

“You talk to her?” he asks Ashby. I grip my beer almost hard enough to break the glass, trying not to look as though I’m waiting for the answer.

Ashby hesitates before replying, “Briefly. She wasn’t exactly… receptive.”

I can picture her immediately, arms crossed and chin tilted slightly upward, those hazel eyes daring anyone to get too close.

“Didn’t push it,” Ashby adds. “Didn’t feel like the right moment.”

Briggs nods once, respecting the decision. “Timing matters. Even when urgency doesn’t,” he says, then asks, “So, we just wait?”

Ashby’s mouth tightens. “We don’t do nothing.”

I sit back, letting the wood press into my spine. The room sounds like it usually does, glasses clinking, chairs scraping, conversation rolling through the bar, but none of it feels normal anymore.

“What’s the angle?” I ask finally.

Ashby glances at me. “We gather what we can. Quietly. No assumptions yet.”