Page 119 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“There is no tomorrow,” Bryce insisted. “We have no solid intel.”
A chill ran down my spine. There was definitely a tomorrow. And it was something big. Arresting Razor would not change that. Men like Charles Huxley worked with precision. They would have planned for all kinds of scenarios. They would have backups.
“You did good, Mila,” Parker said. “They’re running scared. This is how we build cases. The wheels are in motion and justice will prevail.”
As much as I wanted to believe her, my gut was telling me this wasn’t over yet.
Parker, her tone a little more easy, said, “You can come home soon.”
“As soon as possible,” Portnoy cut in. “We need to question you. We can send a plane—”
“No.” I needed more time to think. “We will call Finn and arrange a ride home. It’s already dark here.”
After another few minutes of conversation, we hung up. The minute the connection was severed, I pulled my laptop out of the backpack. “Where is the battery bank?”
Jude hopped to his feet. “On it.”
We set up the computer and the phone on the small table and plugged both in. Then I played a recording from the poker game. Then another. I’d collected so many over the last year.
As the men on the recording talked about Friday the thirteenth while glasses and poker chips clinked in the background, I closed my eyes, taking myself back to that smoky room, envisioning the faces at the poker table, remembering the drink orders I’d filled.
After only minutes, I was overwhelmed with impatience. I stood and paced the small space, running my hands through my hair.
“It’s still happening tomorrow,” I said. “I know it in my bones.”
“Let’s call Parker.”
I held up my hand, then turned to cross the room again. “Don’t. She’ll think I’m crazy. I need to think.”
At the window, I spun around, only to find Jude blocking my path. He pulled me into his chest and pressed his lips to my crown. “Whatever it is, you will figure it out. You are brilliant.”
His words ignited a tiny spark of hope in my chest.
I eased out of his hold. “Can we look at the maps of the restricted bat territory again?”
“Sure.”
The laptop screen wasn’t big, but we studied the map section by section, reviewing the most recent restrictions.
“Where was the fire?” I asked. “The Sinistre Nord.”
Jude took off his glasses and used the hem of his shirt to clean them, shaking his head. “It’s hard to say, looking at this map. But it was in the northern section of our land, bordering the state section.”
“Is any of that area included in what’s closed now?”
Squinting, he zoomed out, then in again.
“Possibly. The fire happened before I was born, but I do know it destroyed the old river road.” He traced his finger along the river. “It ran right here.”
“And that’s one of the roads we suspect they’re using now?”
“It would make the most sense, seeing as it’s a direct shot to Sainte-Louise,” he said. “Let’s look at one of the big aerial maps.”
He toggled around in my folders until he located it.
Once it had loaded, we studied it silently.
“Look,” I said when I caught sight of the river trail. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. “If you head west, you hit the border, where we know they’re crossing to avoid detection.” I traced my finger down the map on the screen, scrolling down. “And if you follow the river trail.”
