“He’s right,” I said. “We have to do something. We have to find her, and we have to find out who sent her that shit so we can prove to her that it wasn’t true. We need her, the kids need her, we have to figure this out. Oliver, where is Cade? What have you two learned?”

“When I called him he answered and just said ‘I’ll be there, but I’ll be late,’ and hung up on me,” Oliver said.

I crossed my arms in a huff. Oliver and Cade were our best hope for a lead, and Cade told us that he’d paid some seedy guy he knew down in Florida to track down the person who sent the package, but we hadn’t heard anything additional since then. We had to be able to do something more. We had to be able to find the woman we loved.

“Can’t you do something else?” I asked Oliver. “Did you run the fingerprints?”

“There were about fifty prints on those photos. They’d been handled by everyone from the sales clerk at the place he printed them from, to Joe Schmoe from up the street. The prints are no good,” Oliver explained. “All we were able to learn from the paper is that it was from Florida, which we already knew, and we have nothing to compare the handwriting test to. We ran it through the system to see if there were any matching samples in the system, but came up totally empty.”

“So, what?” Lowe whined. “That’s it? We’re just at a dead end?”

“Right? Can we go back and work the delivery man over a little more?” Rogan added.

“All threads lead back to Florida and the address that we already have. It’s not a residential address, but a police department with over 100 officers. We can’t rightfully ask Cade’s shifty contact to walk in there and yell ‘Hey, any of you chaps blackmailing a guy in Texas that’s in witness protection and not supposed to be talked about, by the way, can you also please not arrest me for the myriad of crimes I’ve committed?’” Oliver was dramatically flailing his arms about in a way that would have made me laugh if I wasn’t so upset. “We’re doing everything we can, guys. We want to find Jordan just as badly as you do.”

“Damn right we do.” I looked over my shoulder and Cade was walking into the kitchen. “And we’ve finally caught a break.”

“You’ve found her?” Lowe said, jumping up from the stool where he was sitting, looking like a puppy being offered a bone.

Cade looked at Lowe sadly. “No, but I did find our blackmailer.” He set a folder on the counter and opened it and everyone gathered around. The top page was a picture of a man with short blond hair, cyan blue eyes, and severe, cut jaw. “An ex-cop from West Palm Beach, Florida, Nathan Greene.”

“The brother?” Rogan said, remembering Harrison’s story from before. “Was running you out of town not enough?”

“Evidently not,” Harrison said. “How did he find me? My new name and location were only known to a select few.”

“Yeah,” Cade said, flipping the top image of Nathan over to reveal a picture of another man with a drill sergeant look to him, with buzz cut hair. “Recognize him?”

“The FPD captain,” Harrison responded. “Milton Jones.”

“Apparently, Milton had a thing for your ex. He was told your identity as a confidant of the FBI to inform them if Nathan tried anything crazy, but he worked with him instead to find you,” Cade said, flipping the top page, and revealing a far off shot of the two of them clinking whisky glasses in a bar. “My guy found them talking about how Nathan had delivered the photos and everything should be falling apart.”

Oliver hissed. “Please, please tell me you had that guy take them out?”

“And have us become the men that Jordan is horrified Harrison is?” Cade responded. “Why would I do that when I have the law on my side?”

Harrison smiled. “Good man.”

“So what’d you do?” I asked.

“I called the FBI of course. I told them that their PD captain had violated a federal law by compromising Harrison’s identity and that Nathan used that compromised identity to blackmail Harrison and threaten Jordan,” Cade explained with a grin on his face. “They’ve both been arrested and being punished to the full extent of the law.” His grin grew into something more mischievous and evil. “Although, just in case they did get the message, I had Liam deliver them some packages of their own.”

Oliver gasped like a school girl at a concert. “Explosive car kind?”

Cade nodded. “Explosive car kind.”

All of the guys and I started clapping and Cade bowed. “Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. The car packages were Oliver’s idea.”

Oliver shrugged. “I figured if they wanted to deliver packages, they could receive them.”

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