Chapter 5: What Reeves Sent First
By six in the morning, Alessandro had been moved.
I didn't see it happen.
Daniel came to the waiting room where I had taken Logan — who had finally woken up, eaten half a granola bar, and fallen asleep again across two chairs with Captain Bear on his face — and told me quietly that the room had been compromised.
A hospital administrator had been approached.
Someone had asked questions about the patient in the VIP wing, about who had been present when he regained consciousness, about whether a woman with a child had been seen on that floor.
"Who asked?" I said.
"A man with a federal badge," Daniel said.
"The administrator didn't get a name."
We were in a car twenty minutes later.
Logan sat in my lap, still half-asleep, sneakers blinking against the dark interior.
Daniel drove.
I didn't ask where we were going.
I watched the side mirror instead.
Alessandro had been taken somewhere else by his own people.
Daniel had a number to reach them.
That was all I was given.
"Reeves is FBI," I said.
"He has resources.
He has reach.
If he wanted to find us, how long does he have?"
"Depends on how much he wants to keep this quiet," Daniel said.
"If he moves officially — warrants, field agents, the full infrastructure — then he has to explain why.
He has to justify the search.
That creates a record."
"And if he moves unofficially?"
"Then he's faster and we have less warning."
Logan stirred against my chest.
"Mommy.
Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe, baby."
"Is Captain Bear coming?"
"Captain Bear is right here."
He settled back down.
I kept my hand on his back and my eyes on the mirror.
Daniel's phone rang through the car speakers.
He answered without taking his hands off the wheel.
"It's me." A voice I didn't know.
Male.
Older.
Controlled.
"The administrator talked to more than one person.
There's a report filed.
Reeves has it."
"How long ago?"
"Forty minutes."
Daniel's hands tightened on the wheel.
"Does he have her name?"
A pause.
"He has the name on her hospital badge."
I closed my eyes for one second.
"Catherine Winters," the voice said.
"He ran it.
He has her address, her employment record, her son's preschool enrollment."
Logan's preschool.
The small blue building on Calvert Street with the handprint mural on the front wall and the teacher who always remembered that Logan was allergic to tree nuts.
"He won't touch the boy," Daniel said, and I couldn't tell if it was a statement or a hope.
"He'll use the boy," the voice said.
"That's different."
The call ended.
I pressed my lips against the top of Logan's head and breathed.
"Daniel." My voice was steady.
I made it steady.
"We need to get to David before Reeves does."
"I know."
"Not eventually.
Today."
"I know, Catherine."
"Because if Reeves gets to David first—"
"I know." He glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"I've been trying to get to David for six weeks.
Every time we get close, something moves.
Reeves has someone inside.
Someone who knows our timing."
"Inside where?"
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
"Daniel.
Inside where?"
"Inside Alessandro's organization," he said.
"We don't know who yet."
The car was quiet except for Logan's slow breathing and the sound of the highway.
Someone in the room last night — one of the men who had filed out when Alessandro told them to leave — had already made a call.
I thought about the young guard who had stared at Logan.
The one who had left with the others.
"The guard," I said.
"The one who kept watching Logan.
What was his name?"
Daniel's eyes went to the mirror again.
"Why?"
"Because he was the only one in that room who looked at my son instead of at Alessandro when the monitor started beeping."
May you like
Daniel said nothing for three seconds.
Then he picked up his phone.
