Page 95 of Rekindle My Heart

“Ryan.” Erica’s voice was soft and reedy.

“Ryan, are you there?” Tears laced her voice.

“Erica, where are you?”

“Ryan, the corruption—” The phone went dead.

“Fuck.” Ryan jumped up. “That’s proof enough for me.”

“For sure, it’s a burner phone, but we should set up a trace. He’ll call back.” Trey pulled out his phone—no doubt getting the trace set up.

His phone buzzed a second later. A text from a blocked number. He clicked on it.

Blocked: You have proof of life. You want her alive, you’ll do as I say. No police involvement. I’ll know.

He showed Amy and Trey. “Johnson doesn’t realize I know it’s him. You’re the first I’ve told.”

“Reply back. What does he want?”

Ryan typed out the message with shaky hands.

“It can’t be money. He must know you’re close to figuring it out.”

“Why take Erica?” Amy asked.

Trey raised a brow and gestured to Ryan.

“Sorry, stupid question,” she said.

It felt like hours but was probably only two minutes before the text came in. Ryan fought to focus his eyes as he read the message. The message instructed him to erase all the files from the main system, then the kidnapper would text back with instructions as to where to pick her up. He was giving him one hour.

“You can’t do that. Can you?” Amy asked.

Ryan shrugged.

Trey nodded. “If anyone in the department could, it would be Ryan. He has the computer skills to override the security.”

Amy tapped an unpolished fingernail to her lip. “But if Sergeant Johnson is our guy and has computer skills, why wouldn’t he just wipe the files?”

“I don’t think he has the tech knowledge. I’m willing to bet he has just enough to run and maintain the site, but I think Stevens or Lindstrom set it up. Even with the skill I have, it would leave a trace, like a digital fingerprint.” Ryan rubbed his temples. “He’s setting me up to take the fall. Besides, I bet Trey has backup copies of all the files.”

“I do. Even screenshots and the documentation you’ve sent me.”

“Do you think he’d let Erica go?” A whisper of hope skirted along his spine.

The somber head shake from Trey said it all. “He has to know I have copies. Plus, you’d keep a copy of the text he sent.”

“You heard her. She would have risked her life to tell you who had her. He couldn’t trust her to read a message. Maybe the text was a backup plan.” Amy tapped the pen on the pad.

“Her call, besides her words, what else did we hear? Can you play it back?” Trey moved closer.

Ryan’s throat clogged at the sound of her scared voice, but he tried to focus. He got nothing.

“Play it again. Listen for background noise,” Trey said.

On the third replay, Ryan picked up a horn. “That wasn’t a car horn. What was it?”

He should be able to place it, but the sound slipped through the cracks of his stressed mind.