Page 74 of Dead Air
"Wrong address?" Lawson ventured, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.
"Or locals who realized they'd taken the wrong turn." Richardson returned his weapon to the table. "These backroads all look the same at night if you don't know them well."
"We should still move this evidence somewhere secure." Lawson gestured toward the folders. "Even if that wasn't Thomas's team or Wallace's officers, they'll be looking for both of us soon enough."
Richardson nodded, gathering the files back into their container. "Five years of investigation. Everything needed to bring down Thomas Hutchinson's entire operation."
chapter
twenty-seven
Rain patteredagainst the beach house windows. Claire paced between kitchen and living room, phone clutched in her hand. Twenty-seven hours since Lawson had left for Richardson's cabin. Twenty-six hours since her last text:Arrived. Will update when possible.
Fiona sat cross-legged on the couch, laptop balanced precariously as she worked through multiple browser tabs. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Neither woman had slept properly since Lawson's departure.
"She should have called by now." Claire checked her phone again, confirming what she already knew. No missed calls. No new messages.
"Phone signal can be spotty in those backwoods." Fiona didn't look up from her screen. "Or she turned it off to avoid location tracking."
"Or she's been arrested. Or worse."
"Not arrested." Fiona finally glanced up. "That would make headlines. Wallace would parade her in front of cameras immediately."
The possibility neither woman voiced hung between them. If Lawson had confronted Richardson and things had gone badly, they might never know what happened.
Claire's phone vibrated. She answered before the first ring completed.
"Lawson?"
"It's me." Lawson's voice came through distorted by a poor connection. "Limited signal. Can't talk long."
"Are you safe? Did you find Richardson?"
"Yes, to both. Richardson has evidence about Thomas Hutchinson's operation. Monica uncovered it before she died." Static interrupted the connection momentarily. "Need you to check something. Criminal cases dismissed during Hutchinson's tenure as a defense attorney."
"Already working that angle." Claire put the call on speaker. "What about Richardson?"
"He's been playing double agent. Building a case against Hutchinson for years." More static crackled through the connection. "Will explain everything when I get back. Signal failing. Don't try to call—I'll contact you."
The line went dead. Claire stared at the phone, relief battling with fresh concern. Lawson, alive and apparently working with Richardson rather than against him. New information that changed their understanding of the former captain's role in events.
"She didn't sound like a hostage." Fiona returned to her laptop. "And that bit about Thomas Hutchinson confirms what I've been finding."
"Which is?"
Fiona turned her screen toward Claire. "Flight records from Savannah private airport. Thomas Hutchinson's personal jet departed yesterday afternoon. Destination Belize."
"Non-extradition country." Claire scanned the flight manifest Fiona had somehow obtained. "Convenient timing given Blackwell's abduction and the subsequent media attention."
"Very." Fiona clicked to another screen. "Airport security footage makes it more interesting."
The video showed Thomas Hutchinson approaching his jet on the tarmac. Tall, distinguished, wearing an expensive suit despite traveling. Executive confidence in every movement. Behind him walked a second figure—hooded, stumbling slightly. A security officer gripped this person's arm, guiding them toward the aircraft steps.
"That build matches Leah Blackwell." Claire leaned closer to the screen. "The height. The slight frame."
"Exactly." Fiona froze the frame, zooming in on the hooded figure. "Note the resistance in her posture. The security guard's grip forcing compliance."
"Not a willing passenger."
