Page 84 of The Viper
The door was ajar, the room beyond it a mess—but not the kind of mess that comes from a search or a robbery. This was the mess of someone leaving in a panic. Blankets half-pulled off the bed, a chair knocked over, her phone charger still plugged into the wall. The window was open, curtain fluttering in the breeze.
I moved to the window, examining the frame. No signs of forced entry here either. It had been unlocked, opened from the outside. Easy access.
"He might’ve come in through here," I said, more to myself than Noah.
Noah stepped beside me, looking out at the marsh. "And left the same way, probably. No footprints in the mud, though. Ground's too soft to hold detail this close to the water."
I cursed under my breath. "So, we've got nothing."
"Not nothing," Noah said, pulling up his tablet. "I've been reviewing the street cam footage from the last six hours. No suspicious vehicles, no one on foot. But—" He paused, scrolling through something. "There's a gap. Fifteen minutes of dead air, right around the time Hannah called Lexi."
"Dead air?"
"Camera went offline. Could be a glitch. Could be someone who knows how to work the system."
I felt my jaw tighten. "These guys are good."
"Maybe," Noah said. He pocketed the tablet, his expression thoughtful. "We need more resources. More reach."
"Like what?"
He hesitated, then said, "The mayor of Charleston. Natalie Kennedy. She's got connections—police, city infrastructure, access to systems we don't. If we loop her in, she might be able to help."
I frowned. "Why would the mayor help us?"
Noah grinned, and there was something knowing in it. "Because she's dating your brother."
I blinked. "What?"
"Ethan," Noah said, his grin widening. "Didn't he tell you?"
"No," I said flatly. "He didn't."
Noah shrugged. "Ethan's like Atlas—tight-lipped. Keeps his cards close. But yeah, he's been seeing Mayor Kennedy. It's serious, from what I hear."
I stared at him, trying to process. Ethan, my brother, dating the mayor of Charleston. And he hadn't said a damn word about it. Not when he'd flown in to tell me about Byron Dane's secrets, not when we'd talked about Dominion Hall, nothing.
"Why the hell wouldn't he mention that?" I asked, more to myself than Noah.
"Because Ethan doesn't mention anything unless it's mission-critical," Noah said. "You know how he is. The strong, silent type who carries the weight of the world and doesn't ask for help."
I couldn't argue with that. Of all the Montana Danes, Ethan had taken Dad's disappearance the hardest. He'd been the oldest at home when it happened, the one who'd stepped up to help Mom keep the ranch running. He'd turned inward, built walls, and never let anyone see him crack.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I know."
Noah clapped my shoulder. "Well, now you know about the mayor. So, what do you think? Worth reaching out?"
I thought about it. The mayor had resources we didn't—access to city surveillance, police cooperation, the kind of official channels that could cut through red tape. But what would she really be able to do? Track down a ghost? Find a man who'd already vanished into the night?
"Sure," I said finally. "Can't hurt. Though I'm not sure what she'll be able to do that we can't."
Noah nodded, but I could tell he was thinking the same thing. We were grasping at straws, and we both knew it.
Then it hit me.
The answer had been staring me in the face the whole time, and I'd been too focused on the present to see it. I straightened, turning to Noah with a sudden clarity that felt like a door opening in my mind.
"We need to go back to the beginning," I said.
