Olivia clasped her hand over her mouth and let out a guttural cry. Fletcher reached for her as he replied. “Where are you? What do we need to do?”
She scrambled out of bed and switched on the light, then dressed as he nodded, listening to the caller. His big eyes never left hers.
Then he hung up.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
He was impressed Oliviahadn’t asked him one single question. She had simply sat in the passenger seat, clenching her hands together and staring out into the dark of the early morning as he drove to the address Adrian Black had given him.
“You might have to wait in the car,” he said.
“What?” Her head shot around. “Why? No. If they have Sammy—”
“Liv, I just don’t know. These people are... we have to do as they ask, okay?” he replied.
She nodded, and he kept driving.
“But they have her?”
“Yes.”
“’K.”
And that was it. He pulled into the parking lot of a Lower Manhattan building and saw the white van.
“Oh, God.” Olivia said, bursting into tears.
He reached for her hand and squeezed. He knew what she was thinking. It felt like they were in some fucking horror movie or serial killer documentary being reenacted.
“Stay here. Please,” he said.
He might trust Black Hawke with recovering Sammy, but that was out of necessity. He wasn’t putting Olivia anywhere near them. If he could have left her at home he would have, but there was no way she would stay there, and he would never ask that of her.
He pulled on his jacket and baseball cap and, shooting her one last look, he got out of the car.