Page 101 of Whispers in the Night

“Not like this. Not as bait for a serial killer who’s been obsessed with you for five years.”

They stared at each other, the tension thick between them.

“I’m doing this,” Harper said quietly. “With or without your support. But I’d rather have you with me.”

Silas was quiet for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“No. But I can promise I’ll be as careful as possible. That I’ll follow protocol, listen to the team, not take unnecessary risks.” Harper moved closer to him. “I need to do this. Not just to catchSutton, but because I’m the only one who can draw him out. Please understand that.”

Silas sighed then pulled her into his arms, held her tight. “I understand. I hate it, but I understand.”

They stood like that for a few minutes, drawing strength from each other. Then Silas pulled back slightly.

“If we’re doing this, we do it right. Full tactical support, every contingency planned for. And I’m on the backup team. Non-negotiable.”

They were finally getting somewhere. The relief she felt was instant. “Agreed.”

At six a.m., they were at the station. The conference room was already filling with officers and detectives, all looking grim and determined. Captain Holloway stood at the front, a dark sentinel they all looked to for guidance and support, a large map of the region spread across the table.

“Sutton’s been gone for eighteen hours,” Holloway began without preamble, one thick finger pinning the map to the table. “Last confirmed sighting was his sedan heading east on Highway 26. We’ve established roadblocks, alerted all neighboring jurisdictions, and issued a BOLO to every law enforcement agency in the Pacific Northwest.”

He stabbed his finger onto the map with two dull thuds. “This is our search grid. The area east of Blackridge covers approximately five hundred square miles of mixed terrain—national forest, logging roads, abandoned structures. We’re dividing it into sectors and conducting systematic searches.”

Morris pulled up aerial imagery on the monitors. “We’ve identified forty-three structures in the search area. Old mining operations, logging camps, summer cabins, hunting lodges. Most are accessible only by logging roads or hiking trails.”

“We search every single one,” Holloway said. “Teams of four, full tactical gear. Sutton is armed, dangerous, and he knowswe’re looking for him. Treat every structure as a potential hostile situation.”

“What about air support?” Holt asked.

“Oregon State Police is providing helicopter support starting at oh-eight-hundred. They’ll do aerial reconnaissance of the entire search area, looking for vehicle movement or any signs of occupation.”

Harper studied the map, her profiler’s instincts kicking in. “Sutton would want somewhere isolated but with good sight lines. Defensible. Somewhere he could see people coming but they couldn’t see him.”

“That describes half these locations,” Morris said.

“Look for structures with good access routes but also multiple escape routes,” Harper continued. “He’s a planner. He wouldn’t hole up somewhere he could get trapped. And he’d want access to supplies—water, food. Somewhere he could sustain himself for days or weeks if needed.”

Sanchez highlighted several locations on the map. “That narrows it to about fifteen structures. Old logging camps with multiple access roads, a few abandoned ranger stations near water sources, and three hunting lodges with generator power.”

“We start with those fifteen,” Holloway decided. “Three teams, five locations each. Check in every thirty minutes. No one goes in alone, and everyone wears body cams.”

As teams geared up and assignments were distributed, Harper pulled Holloway aside.

“I want to propose an alternative approach,” she said. “In addition to the search teams.”

Holloway’s dark expression suggested he already knew what she was going to say. “The bait plan.”

“Sutton won’t stay hidden forever. He’s building toward something, and I’m at the center of it. If we give him an opportunity—”

“You mean if we dangle you in front of him like a carrot.”

“In a controlled environment with full tactical support.” Harper pulled up a proposal she’d drafted. “I go to a public location. Somewhere he’d expect me to be. The cabin, maybe, or even back at the station. We set up surveillance, position teams close-by. When he makes contact, we take him.”

“And if he doesn’t make contact? If he just watches from a distance?”