***

Charley wanted to run up to Wyatt, grab him by the edges of his jacket and hold him so tight he’d never leave. Instead, she banked a laugh at Stuart, who clearly didn’t understand the nature of a secret-a time limit did not apply.

She knew Wyatt would notice the nonchalance of Stuart’s entry. It didn’t matter, though-their meeting didn’t revolve around either of them. They’d come together to find Chase.

Five days had passed since he’d disappeared. Sophie’s return confused the situation, leaving Charley and the detectives with no new information and even more questions.

“Would you like a chair?” She motioned to the spots around the room.

Wyatt shook his head as Stuart plopped onto the loveseat.

Sophie took up most of the couch, so Charley moved to the end and sat on the arm.

“Thank you for coming, Stuart, and you, too, Wyatt.” Charley nodded at each in turn. “Would you like a debrief?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Wyatt said as Stuart’s focus returned to his apple.

Charley went through the details as she knew them.

“Have the police tapped your phone?” Wyatt asked.

She tilted her head toward him. “Yes, but it hasn’t been useful. They didn’t call, and with Sophie back, I can’t imagine they will. There was no ransom request. Nothing.”

“But we do have Sophie’s note.” James handed the paper Charley found to Wyatt.

He studied it a moment. “Has she given you any context for it?”

“No.” Charley shook her head. “None. She doesn’t remember it. What do we do?” Charley said with a hitch in her voice.

Wyatt’s small head shake did not encourage her. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but with three guys in the FBI, she’d hoped they’d unlock a door behind which she’d find Chase. Fantastical, sure, but what mother wouldn’t think through all possibilities, ethereal or otherwise?

“I talked with Detective Bland before we started over. Apparently you guys-” Wyatt pointed to Charley and her group. “You have a lot of people on your side. My mother even.”

Over the years, they’d led Katherine, Wyatt’s Mom, to believe Charley left the house to her granddaughter, named after her. They’d all been too taken in by her to sever their ties.

“Anyway,” Wyatt continued. “They’ve got it all laid out, multiple officers tracking leads and sources-”

“We could assist more.” Cael sat upright. “We have our own resources. We’ve scoured every connection we could come up with on our own already. We need to be prepared for every possibility.”

“Yes, but since you’ve got a vested interest in this, they want you to remain outside the bounds of the investigation.” Wyatt’s gaze tracked to Stuart.

“We need to do something.” Lily spoke through a small hitch in her own breath.

Cael pulled her in tighter to him.

“As the victim’s family, the best thing you can do is let the professionals do their job,” Wyatt said.

Stuart jumped up. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Charley and Lily both jerked back. Cael and James leaned forward, their elbows on their knees.

“Give ’em access, Wyatt. You know you can trust Cael, at least,” Stuart said.

Surprise warred with excitement over the possibility they’d have more to do. Wyatt turned to Stuart, a serious glare in his eye. Charley’s heart skipped a beat; he’d dashed her hopes as fast as Stuart raised them.

“Cael?” Wyatt said. “Can I speak with you privately, please?”

Cael nodded and released Lily, rose from the couch and stood. He lead Wyatt out of the room.

“What does he need to really let us in on this, Stuart?” Charley asked.

She’d give him anything if they could be more active participants. They’d been designed for investigative missions, and Charley knew they would find success if someone gave them entry to the FBI’s greater resources, not just their own.

“I don’t know.” Stuart flopped onto the couch. “He’s Director level, so I’m not privileged to most of his information. But… he is going to transfer me to his department.” Stuart added a sweet smile-one Charley knew meant he’d found his place again with Wyatt.

Her own frustration clouded her happiness for him.

Wyatt came back in, followed on his heels by Cael.

“Wyatt’s going to transfer me to his department, and I’ll get the information we need. Whatever I relay to you must be held in the strictest of confidences-which, of course, most of us know how to do.” He shot a glance at Stuart. “I don’t know if this will help or not, but it’s worth a shot.”

Charley stood and walked to Wyatt. He tilted down to her, his gaze meeting hers-the same but different, mature but young, tough but soft. So many memories, so many times she’d lain in bed and wished him there beside her. The man before her, despite everything she’d done to him, had once again put her first-whether he did it for her or his duty.

“Wyatt-”

“Don’t.” He brought one hand up and wiped away a tear that made its way down her cheek. He closed his eyes as his thumb caressed her skin.

Charley took a tentative inch of a step forward. The connection remained, no matter the number of lies that formed the wall between them.

She laid her hand on his, left his against her face and looked up into his green eyes. “Thank you.” She poured sincerity into those two little words in the hope it could begin to mend what she’d ripped into so many pieces.

His lips firmed into a tight line as he dropped his hand. “Just doing my job.”


***

Charley moved away as Cael touched Wyatt’s arm, taking his attention. Her departure burned right through his core. He’d wanted to crush her against him. He’d wanted to feel her move under him like he’d always imagined. Yet, he couldn’t put the face with the memories.

Instead, he reverted to his work. With the boy as priority, a relationship would lose precedence.

“We can set up here if you have an office, or back at mine if you’d like,” Wyatt said.

“We have an office this way.” Cael walked toward the home’s entrance again.

Wyatt turned to follow with Stuart and James in tow. They traipsed down the hall by the stairs. Art covered the walls, signed by Charley and Cael-who Wyatt remembered he’d known before as Carter.

Cael led him to an office decked out in state-of-the-art equipment-pieces Wyatt had attempted to requisition for years with no luck. Some of it, he knew, cost as much as his car. Thousands of dollars of computer hardware lay in front of him.

“What do you guys do, exactly?” Wyatt asked as he took in the room, three times the size of his own office.

“Exactly what you hired us for. Intelligence,” Charley said from behind him.

Intelligence my ass.

Cael took the controls at the computer, motioning for Charley to sit at the phone. “We just need to dial in Detective Bland before we make this call.”

Wyatt nodded him forward.

Charley’s hands shook as she took the phone. For a seasoned agent who worked with the FBI, her nerves surprised Wyatt.

Cael pressed a few buttons, which meant the call would be recorded.

“We’re good to go here, folks,” Bland said.

Wyatt and the rest placed headsets over their ears.

“You ready, Charley?” Cael asked.

She nodded, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” A robotic female voice answered.

“This is Charley Randall. Who is this?” Her voice lent itself to a plea.

“That doesn’t matter.” The voice held a harsh undertone. “Took you long enough.”

Wyatt bristled at the tone and the implication they’d waited to call.

“Are you alone?”

She glanced up to Cael, Wyatt, James and Stuart. “Yes.”

“Good.” The voice turned deep and menacing. “You found the girl, then?”

Charley froze, her eyes growing wide. “Of course. But what about-”

The voice chuckled. “The boy? What about the boy?”

The room, while silent, remained as still as if frozen in time.

Charley opened her mouth as if to speak, but the voice interrupted. “He was a nice prize once we figured out she wasn’t you, Charley.”

“But-”

“No interruptions. You get this one call to us. That’s it. From now on, we’ll call you.”

Charley shivered in her seat, the phone rattling against her earring. Wyatt’s need to comfort warred with his role as investigator.

“Is he safe?” Her voice carried in a whisper.

“Yes.” The line died with one second to spare on their trace.

Charley dropped the phone and ran from the room with her hands over her face.

Wyatt laid the headphones on the desk. Three faces stared back at him.

“She’ll be on her balcony. I’m sure you can find the way,” James said.


***

Charley pushed through her door and marched onto her balcony. She grabbed one of her afghans and walked to the rail where she flipped the blanket around her shoulders and let it fall across her back.

The cool air calmed the fury which burned within her as the captors confirmed Chase’s containment but gave nothing more away. A fresh batch of tears spilled over her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand as footsteps signaled behind her.

Charley didn’t turn around but breathed deep. Wyatt. She hadn’t led him, but he’d found her.

“James told me where you’d be.”

“I figured one of them had.” She let a small laugh free.

“Can I sit?”

Charley motioned with a wave but didn’t turn around. Her desire for closeness warred with her need to focus on Chase.

“If you’re going to try and convince me Chase will be fine, don’t. You don’t know. We don’t know. No one knows, no matter what they said on the phone, which was nothing. It could all be a ploy, a ruse to build up my hopes.” She continued to stare into the vastness of the fast-approaching night.