I rubbed my forehead. “What do they need from me?”
“Nothing tonight.”
That answer never satisfied me.
At 2300, I received a message through Sarah from an unknown sender. It had been forwarded from a secure tip line after my speech spread.
The message contained only six words.
I know where Alina Price went.
Below it was a phone number.
Agent Morales traced it.
The number belonged to a prepaid phone purchased two counties away, active for less than an hour. The sender had attached no name. No proof. No demand.
By morning, investigators had made contact.
By afternoon, they brought me into a briefing room because the tip had mentioned me by name.
Agent Morales looked different. Not excited. Focused.
“The sender is Diane Porter,” he said.
“The widow?”
He nodded. “She saw your speech. She believes Captain Price may be alive.”
I gripped the back of a chair.
“Where?”
