"What about Susan and Richard?" Emily asked. "They're the connection between these families and Rice."
"We need to monitor their movements," Gideon replied. "Eric can hack their phones, track communications."
"Already on it," Eric confirmed, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "I'm also checking financial records. If Rice is paying them, there will be a trail, no matter how well hidden."
Emily's shoulders slumped slightly under my hands. "And the children already missing? How do we find them?"
A heavy silence fell over the room. It was the question we were all dreading—the one with no easy answer.
"That's where it gets complicated," Gideon admitted. "Once they're in Rice's pipeline, they could be anywhere. Sold to private buyers, moved across state lines or even internationally."
I felt Emily tremble beneath my hands, and I leaned down to speak softly near her ear. "We'll find them, Emily. We've done this before."
She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting mine, filled with a desperate hope that made my chest ache. "Promise me," she whispered.
"I promise to never stop looking," I said, which was the only one I could give her.
Gideon cleared his throat. "There's something else we need to discuss. Emily, your safety remains our primary concern right now. We need to keep you out of sight until we can neutralize the threat."
She frowned. "I'm willing to stay somewhere other than my apartment, but I'm not willing to stop working. I have kids that need me now," she protested.
"Absolutely not," I decreed. The thought of her putting herself in danger made me feel physically sick. There was no way—
"So, you lied?" she asked softly.
"Lied?" I repeated, taken aback.
"I agreed tooneday sick and I would tell you all I knew." I took in the stubborn set to her jaw and flashing eyes and sighed. Emily was going to be impossible.
"We can arrange a wire and tracking," Eric said.
Her eyes flashed to him. "What sort of tracking? I'm not having confidential conversations recorded."
"Compromise," Maddox suggested before I intervened again. "We track your vehicle and the new phone that Eric brought, but don't actually put a wire on you. We need to know if, for example, your boss calls and gives you instructions."
"We also need to be able to find you in an emergency," I added, and thought about the pendant Maddox had for Clare so he would always know where she was. I needed to get one of those for Emily.
I walked the guys to the door after Eric had set up both her car, which had been delivered here, and the new phone. I shot off a quick text to Eric and explained what I needed. He smiled when he read my message so I knew it would be handled.
I stood in the doorway, watching Emily pace the living room after the team left. Her face was drawn, the professional mask slipping to reveal the anxiety underneath. She stopped when she noticed me watching her.
"You really have a whole team that does this? Rescues people?" she asked.
"We have different specialties," I answered, crossing to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee. "We were all military, all working in the same unit. When we got out, Gideon suggested we go into business together. Salvation was born, and our other activities came from knowing a group in Denver who do exactly this. All ex-military. It evolved from there. They run a security company though, not a BDSM club."
Emily's breath caught. She might have associated me with a nightclub, but this was the first time I'd admitted to being involved in any kind of kink.
Something flickered in her eyes before she quickly masked it. I'd have loved to have seen longing in her gaze, but it wasprobably disgust. "I should call Susan. I promised to update her."
"You sure that's wise?" I asked, measuring coffee grounds. "After everything we just discussed?"
"If I don't call, she'll get suspicious. Besides, I need to know if she's reassigned any of my cases." Emily's voice took on that professional tone again. "Some of those kids... I'm the only stable person in their lives right now."
I couldn't argue with that. "Alright, but stick to the stomach bug story."
Emily nodded, accepting the phone I handed her, programmed with her same number. While she made her call in the living room, I busied myself preparing lunch—simple sandwiches and fruit. I couldn't stop thinking about how she'd allowed me to feed her breakfast, the way she'd opened her mouth so naturally, the blush that had spread across her cheeks afterward. It had settled something inside me, and I craved that feeling again.
When she returned to the kitchen, her expression was troubled.
