Page 62 of Dead Air
"You can't seriously be considering meeting him alone." Claire stood, her voice sharpening with alarm. "Not after witnessing a live abduction."
"I need answers." Lawson moved toward her jacket draped over a nearby chair. "Parks has been straight with me so far. If they've found where Blackwell was taken?—"
"And if they haven't?" Fiona challenged. "If someone has his phone? If he's been compromised?"
Lawson paused, considering the possibilities. Every investigative instinct acknowledged the danger. Yet the alternative—remaining in hiding while answers slipped further away—felt intolerable after five years of searching.
"I'm going." Her voice left no room for debate.
Claire and Fiona exchanged glances, more silent communication passing between them before Claire nodded firmly.
"Then we're coming with you." Claire reached for her own jacket.
Lawson recognized the determined set of both women's expressions. The same determination that had driven Claire to overturn wrongful convictions and Fiona to pursue storiesothers abandoned. Arguing would waste valuable preparation time.
"Fine," she conceded with reluctance that masked genuine relief. "But we do this professionally. Entry strategy. Communication protocol. Extraction plan if things go sideways."
"I have gear in my car." Fiona patted her equipment bag. "Including a portable scanner for police frequencies."
"I know the building layout." Claire grabbed her keys from the counter. "A colleague represented the property management company during a liability case three years ago."
Lawson felt a surge of unexpected gratitude as they moved with coordinated purpose toward the door. Whatever waited at the parking garage—trap or truth—she no longer faced it alone.
After five years of solitary pursuit, she had allies willing to risk their safety alongside her. The weight of Monica's death, carried alone for so long, now was distributed across willing shoulders.
Some burdens became lighter when shared with the right people.
chapter
twenty-three
The River StreetParking Garage loomed over the cobblestone streets, a brutalist concrete structure at odds with Savannah's historic architecture. Yellow police tape stretched across the Level 4 entrance, fluttering in the evening breeze. Patrol cars with flashing lights crowded the ramp leading upward, their red and blue glow reflecting off surrounding buildings.
"So much for a trap," Claire remarked as they approached the scene. She gestured toward the dozen officers securing the perimeter and processing evidence.
Fiona scanned the assembly of official vehicles. "Half the department turned out for this. Something about a journalist's abduction attracts serious attention."
The public nature of the scene contradicted their earlier fears of ambush. Uniformed officers directed traffic. Bystanders gathered along the sidewalk, phones raised to capture whatever drama unfolded. A news van from the local television affiliate had already set up for a live broadcast at street level.
Lawson badged the officer controlling access, who checked her credentials against his clipboard before reluctantly liftingthe tape. "Lieutenant Parks is expecting you, Detective. Fourth floor, north corner."
They rode the elevator in silence, each preparing for whatever awaited above. The doors opened onto organized chaos. Crime scene technicians photographed blood spatter across a concrete pillar. Evidence markers dotted the floor surrounding what appeared to be a makeshift broadcasting station—folding table, laptop, microphone setup, portable lighting equipment.
Parks stood at the center, directing the investigation with efficient authority. He spotted Lawson immediately, breaking away from a conversation with a forensics technician to intercept her group.
"You brought company." His gaze swept over Claire and Fiona with professional assessment.
"They insisted," Lawson replied. "What happened?"
"Still piecing it together." Parks guided them toward the makeshift broadcast area, careful to avoid contaminating evidence paths. "Security camera footage shows Blackwell and her assistant arriving approximately ninety minutes before broadcast."
"Professional planning." Lawson studied the blood pattern on the pillar. "Any sign of her?"
"Blood but no body." Parks lowered his voice. "Chief Wallace personally called this in as a high-priority investigation, but with specific instructions."
"Let me guess. I'm not welcome."
"You're technically a suspect." Parks handed her a preliminary report. "Wallace cited your connection to the Monica Landry case and potential motive to silence Blackwell before she revealed damaging information about you."
