Jude presses his lips together. He draws in a breath through his nose and nods. “I’m good. Go. I’m okay.”
I hold onto him a second longer, scanning his face to make sure he’s telling the truth. Satisfied, I let go and head over to the fire crew.
I catch Ramsey, the arson investigator, as he’s hopping out of the truck. We’ve worked together a number of times in the past and he’s good people, ex-marine, but I can’t help thinking Freya would deem him even grumpier than me.
“I haven’t even looked at the scene yet, Park. Come back later.”
“Can’t do that. We’re on the clock.”
He gives me a look. “When are you not?”
I keep pace with him as he walks to the SUV. “Give me your gut feeling,” I say.
“I need to collect evidence, analyze. You know, do my job.” He drops his bag on the ground and takes a look at the damage.
“The person who did this has Oz, Ramsey.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks back at me. People call Ramsey angry and brutal, but I see the softening in his eyes that most would miss.
“At least give me your best guess,” I press.
He runs a palm over his rugged, mountain man beard. “We’re looking at a small bomb. The fire spread but I don’t think the aim was to create a large amount of damage. The blast area is concentrated around the navigation system. If I were a profiler, I’d say whoever did this wanted to take out the GPS tracker.”
“That’s why we couldn’t find the car straight away.”
Ramsey nods. “Now let me get to work and I might find you some real evidence.” He doesn’t wait for my response before turning his attention back to the car.
I give him his space. I’m walking back over to Jude when I spot the tracks in the dirt. They’ve been somewhat disturbed by the fire fighters and the cops, but they look recent. I call a couple of techs over and get them on it, with any luck we’ll be able to identify the make of tire and, from that, narrow down the type of car we’re looking for.
It’s been four hours now since we came home to find Oz missing. Just under that since Freya went off on her own to bring him home. Part of me hopes she’s having better luck than us. The rest of me doesn’t want her to find him, because I know what it means for her if she does. Freya’s twin took Oz for a reason and every profiling instinct in my body is telling me he was just a means to an end. A way to get Freya away from us. Ever since I’ve met her, Freya’s sparked my protective instincts, but apparently, I need to get better at protecting her from herself.
“River!” Jude’s shout breaks me from my reveries. He runs towards me, his phone pressed to his ear, his eyes wide and alert.“I’ve got him. It’s Oz.” Jude chucks me the keys and we sprint back to my car.
Eli catches up with us and hops in the back while Jude rides shotgun and I drive.
“Where am I going, Jude?”
“He’s at a gas station- Oz, Oz no, stay where you are. Oz, listen to me.”
Eli grips Jude’s headrest and leans forward. “What’s he doing?”
Jude shushes him.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I turn onto the highway. We leave the worst of the smoke behind, but a gray haze still hangs beneath the cloudy sky. I want to put my foot down but there’s no point speeding anywhere until I know where I’m going.
Jude sits up straighter, his face screwed up in concentration. The air is sucked out of the car. All of us waiting. “Yes sir, he’s my friend. No, don’t call the police, we’re FBI and we’re on our way to pick him up now. If you could just give me your address...”
We need to get to Oz. I know Jude’s spoken to him, that he’s alive, but something’s wrong. If Oz was in his right mind the first thing he’d have done is give us his location.
Finally, Jude rattles off an address and I step on the gas.
“Yes, sir,” Jude says. “Thank you, sir. We’re on our way now. Just keep him there please. I know. I know. Thank you.”
Jude ends the call. He stares out the windscreen, his leg jigging up and down. “Can you go faster?”
I’m already going over eighty miles per hour. Still, I press down on the accelerator.
“How bad is it?” Eli asks from the back.
