Page 153 of Strays
The second I reach them, Shane takes the purse from my hands and flips it open. It’s all there: her phone, her truck keys, her ID. Everything.
I can’t deny it anymore. The reality slams into me, and it doesn’t hit like a blow; it hits like a vacuum.
“She didn’t get turned around,” I say. “Someone took her.”
Inside a courthouse. A federal building full of security cameras and officers.
I grab my phone, tap into the garrison network, and send out a mass ping.
Our nyra is missing. Inside the courthouse.
Shane bolts for the doors and returns with Fontes, Renner, Jayme, Jo’s uncles, and all the garrison packs right behind him.
My voice comes out low and rough. “I want this building shut down. No oneenters or exits. One team sweeps the perimeter. Another interviews every staff member in this courthouse. Now.”
Jayme and Renner exchange a confused look, still processing, but the aegis and Fontes are already moving.
I clock a court officer across the hallway and cross the distance fast. “Take us to the security control room.”
I don’t raise my voice, but he flinches like I did. Maybe it’s my tone, maybe it’s my face. I don’t care.
“Now,” I snap.
He jumps and starts trotting down the hall. My brothers and I follow on his heels.
We burst into the security room. A man at the monitors looks up, startled. He opens his mouth, but Shane’s already issuing clipped, precise instructions. The officer doesn’t argue, probably too afraid. He turns to the console and starts pulling footage immediately.
Jo isn’t anywhere on the live feed.
“Go back,” I say. “Courtroom 3B. She walked toward the restroom about ten minutes ago.”
The officer rewinds and finds her in seconds.
She exits the courtroom calmly, just ahead of us. She goes right, toward the end of the hallway. We go left, toward the main entrance.
How could we have been so stupid? We’ve been with her every second for the past two weeks, alert and ready. And today, we just let her go alone. We let her walk into this.
The image shows a woman approaching Jo in the middle of the hallway. She gestures toward something, pointing left. Jo nods and follows her down another corridor. Casual. Trusting.
The tech switches to another camera. Jo and the woman enter a side hallway, and I recognize it as the one where I found her purse. Up ahead, a man in a maintenance uniform stands near a door. He opens it and steps inside, leaving the door half-open.
As Jo reaches the door, he steps out casually. Then, quick and clean, he angles toward her and presses something to her side.
Jay leans in. “Pause. Zoom it.”
The image isn’t perfect, but it’s clear enough to make my heart start pounding in my throat: he’s pressing a gun against her ribs.
The tech resumes the video. Jo jolts and her purse slips off her shoulder, hitting the floor. The man leans in close, his mouth near her ear, probably a warning. Jo’s head dips and she goes still. She’s cooperating.
The man lowers the gun and tucks it out of sight. The woman presses herself on Jo’s other side, and the three of them walk forward, exiting the frame.
Another camera picks them up in the employee hallway. They reach a lockedsecurity door, and the man swipes a keycard. The door opens, and they just… leave.
I swallow back the bile burning my throat, my heart beating fast as the reality sinks in. This is not a nightmare. This is real. Jo’s gone.
I turn to the officer who brought us here. “I want every piece of data you have on these two. Now.”
On-screen, the feed switches to the exterior cameras. A gray sedan idles at the curb.
