Chapter 50

50

Gunnar didn't know what exactly his next options were right now. They had called in everyone they could to help. Even Haldyn was there, looking as weak as Hope did. And terrified. Beyond terrified.

Jarrod had instilled her in the conference room, with one of her techs to look after her and do her bidding.

Jarrod was out there now, getting the security cameras from the Hughes Heights housing division. There was a system in place, but it wasn't as sophisticated as it should have been. It was outdated. Almost ridiculously outdated. Especially for a Lucas Tech product.

Of course, it was. Hughes Heights was a safe place. Security wasn't that big of a priority, even after what Victor Scott had done there to Shelby.

Mel and Houghton were there. Houghton had one of his own security guards with them. The man had tried tracking Powell's bracelet. But it had been turned off. Useless.

They knew it had left Hughes Heights. That was all the information they had.

It was nothing.

What good were those damned bracelets if they were known about? If every damned criminal in Finley Creek knew to just turn them off?

The conference doors slammed open. Jarrod and Jake were there. Jarrod held something in an evidence bag. "We swung by the hospital. Izzie called. She was on duty when the bodyguard was brought in."

"He still alive?" Daniel asked, disconnecting his own call. He'd ordered every TSP road officer in the vicinity of Finley Creek statewide to head in that direction. All that could.

They had nothing. They had people out knocking on every door in Hughes Heights. Hoping for something. Anything to go on.

"Hanging on," Jarrod said. "Izzie found this tucked inside his shirt. We just need to crack the passcode."

He held out a bag. With a bloody cell inside.

"It's Heather's. Ask her family," Daniel said. "I know Cara knows the passcode. I saw her get on Heather's phone and play music videos starring Heather and their family to show Powell in Wyoming."

Jarrod pivoted and headed to the waiting area where Lila had somehow herded the Colesons.

He returned five minutes later, a Coleson with him. "Crispin's going to get into Heather's phone for us."

"It needs processed first," Haldyn said.

"Heather wouldn't have left her phone like that. Not unless there was something she wanted us to see on it. I can guarantee wherever she is, she's not waiting passively for rescue. Not her," Jarrod said. Of all of them, besides Miguel, Jarrod probably knew Heather the best.

"I'll do it, Cris," Hope said. She'd come in behind them. She didn't look too steady on her feet, but there was determination in her face. "I can do it without disturbing too much evidence. You go back, take care of Mom. I want to see what's on that phone before anyone else in the fam does. Go."

It took Hope less than five minutes to find what she was after.

"There's a video. Taken right around the time she disappeared," Hope said. "It's twenty-seven minutes long. The phone probably clicked off after so long."

She hit the button.

"Okay, we'll do what you want, just don't hurt us. It wouldn't exactly be fair, would it? Six men and everything. " Heather's voice came through, calm. Deliberate. "We don't want any trouble. You move your little green and white pill packages of that peach stuff out of here. Right out of Hughes Heights forever in your cute little blue van. And we'll go the other direction, Scarface. We were just out for a walk talking about boneheaded guys. That's all. "

Six men. Moving drugs. Green and white package, peach pills—OPJ. Out of Hughes Heights. Scarface. Smaller blue van. Heather was telling Major Crimes what she could.

" Shit. They're two of Doc Eastman's freaks, " another male voice said, almost too faint to hear, after the sound of footsteps on stairs or hardwood. "Colesons. Ones in the damned news."

" That's Steve's slut, right there. The one Eastman wanted first before Steve knocked her up," another voice said, fury in his tone. " And that realtor bitch that's everywhere. Billionaire's cousin, I think. She's worth millions and has been screwing that cop Erickson."

"Erickson the fucking prick Three is always bitching about ruining things for him?"

"That's the one."

That told them one thing. The men who had them were a part of Wilson's crew. It wasn't a random kidnapping for ransom. Or some crazy after Heather because of Eastman. No. They were the men Gunnar had been looking for from the very beginning. And he didn't know who they were at all. He had been after them for years. Now, they had Powell.

They were deadly. And he didn't know where they were.

" I told you assholes to move the damned Opal faster. Should have done it last night. Then they wouldn't be here now, " another, more cultured voice said.

It was OPJ. That confirmed it. Heather and Powell had just stumbled right into those bastards.

" Grab the bitches, get them in the van. We have to get out of here fast. We are going to have fun with them tonight. I have been waiting to get my hands on Steve's bitch for a long, long time, " the man said. "She's going to pay for every fucking thing she's ruined for years. More than four years I have wanted to make this bitch pay. And Erickson's whore is just icing on the fucking cake."

Then, there were sounds he would never forget. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh. The sounds of women crying out. Struggling.

The sounds of Powell screaming for help would haunt him for the rest of his life. Then she was screaming Heather's name. Begging the men not to hurt Heather any longer. To just stop.

Gunnar would never forget the look on Heather's little sister's face as they listened to that audio. The utter terror and despair as they heard the sounds Heather made.

He reached out. Pulled Hope close as gently as he could and just held her as she cried.

Never had he felt more useless in his life.

All of his years as a cop, all of his training, his experience, couldn't do a damned thing to help them now. Couldn't get him to Powell now that she needed him most.