Page 98 of Montana Memory

I crouched behind the overgrown hedge and scanned the windows. Nothing moved. No blinds shifting. No shadows passing behind the glass. Still, I didn’t trust it. I moved to the back and paused just below the kitchen window, listening.

Silence.

My pulse was steady, my breath tight. I adjusted my grip on the gun, crept up the steps, and took position by the door. Breaching this place alone wasn’t an optimal plan, but I wasn’t going to wait. They could have Jada in the basement or something, doing horrible things to her. I was seconds away from forcing it open when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Lucas.

I ducked back off the stoop and answered quietly, “I’m about to breach Johnson’s house.”

“What the hell do you mean breach?” His voice was low but sharp. “Alone?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to wait if they might be hurting her.” I shifted my weight against the wall, trying to keep my voice even, but the frustration was bubbling up fast. “She could be inside, Lucas.”

“Not going to do either of you any good if you get dead.”

I let my head fall back against the siding, eyes closed. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take. I don’t have any other options. I don’t have a team.”

“Actually, you do. Lachlan and I are en route to you right now. We’re five minutes out. We caught the next flight after you—Lachlan figured he’d get further with CBI in person since he’s fellow law enforcement.”

Relief washed over me so fast it left me dizzy. I hadn’t realized how much I needed backup until I heard those words. Lucas had never let me down, not once, and with Lachlan along—especially with his badge and connections—we’d have options I didn’t have alone.

“I’m behind the house,” I muttered. “Nothing looks off, but it’s too quiet.”

“Stay put. We’re close.”

I ended the call and pocketed the phone, taking a long breath through my nose. Just five more minutes. I could wait that long if it meant doing this smart. Getting Jada out alive.

Three minutes later, a dark SUV slid down the street and parked near my rental. Two figures got out, moving quick and low. Lucas reached me first, Lachlan right behind him. No handshakes. No greetings. Just nods and tension.

We didn’t need to say anything else. We were already moving.

Lucas crouched beside me, behind the overgrown hedge, while Lachlan scanned the back perimeter. The three of us hadn’t worked together like this before, but the rhythm settled quickly—instinct and training clicking into place. I pulled my Glock from my waistband and flicked off the safety, my fingers already itching for the breach.

“Lachlan,” I said, glancing over at him as he came back around to the side yard. “You sure you’re good with this? This is an illegal entry, and you’re still a badge.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Sometimes the law and justice aren’t the same thing. I signed up to protect people, not follow brokensystems. If Jada’s in there, I’ll deal with the fallout. After we get her out safe.”

I nodded once, that tight knot in my chest easing just enough for air to get in. Most guys in his position wouldn’t risk it, wouldn’t cross that line. But Lachlan didn’t just say the words—he meant them.

“Front or back?” Lucas asked, voice low.

I pointed to the back entrance. “It’s more concealed. Curtains are shut, and I didn’t see a camera.”

Lucas took point, I followed, and Lachlan covered our six. We moved in sync, quiet steps across the deck, breaths held. I watched for movement in the windows, for the flicker of a shadow or the telltale glow of a light. Nothing.

Lucas knelt and tested the knob. Locked. He looked up at me. I nodded, then stepped forward and kicked hard—doorframe cracking, the sound loud as hell in the stillness. We slipped in fast.

The kitchen was empty, a faint scent of garbage and stale coffee lingering in the air. Dishes in the sink, one crusted over with dried tomato sauce, but nothing fresh. No noise, no rustling, no voices.

We fanned out, weapons drawn.

Living room—clear.

Two bedrooms—clear.

Bathroom—empty.

The place had that hollow feel. Not like someone had just stepped out for coffee. This was days-old quiet. No sign of Johnson. No sign of Kelly. And worse—no sign of Jada.

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