“What about cleaning service? Or yard service?” I suppose the pool guy would never need to come up to the house. That might be true for the yard service, too.

“Cleaning service uses the side door. The only people who use the side door are Sophia, her friends, and her dad. There’s no video inside the garage. If anyone arrived by car, parked in the garage, and came in the house that way, we wouldn’t know. Erik confirmed that with the Wolf man yesterday.”

“Right.” I cross my arms and look at the last photo on her monitor. She said they are on the network, and she is texting me, but I like tangible material. “Can you print those for me?”

“Trees are crying all over the land,” Shiloh says, but she hits print.

The typical kidnapping perpetrator profile doesn’t fit this case. Unemployed with drug or alcohol problems doesn’t fit anyone within Jack Sullivan’s circle that we met so far, but we need background checks to confirm this. Male between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five is too broad to be helpful. Once we get the frequent visitors identified, we can confirm employment status and search records.

Someone went to a lot of effort to pull off this abduction. And according to Jack, his personal life comprises Sophia and work.

“Hey, Shiloh, can you also send me everything you find on Sullivan Arms? All the financial reports you gathered for Mr. Wolfgang?” I’ll review those later.

“Yep.” She rolls her chair back in front of her desk and types. “So, you doing the Wolf man?”

“What? No.” I playfully shove her shoulder. She’s as bad as Sabrina.

She giggles. I met her all of twenty minutes ago, and she’s teasing me like we’re mates.

“I met him two days ago.”

Ryan steps out of his doorway and motions for me to join him.

“Got to go.”

“Yeah, you do.” Shiloh slips headphones over her ears. I tap her, not liking her tone, and give her a displeased face. The kind of jocular displeased expression I’d give Sophia during a FaceTime call. Shiloh smirks, and I roll my eyes. The familiar jesting pattern twists my insides. The reality that I might not see Sophia again filters through my conscience. It was one thing to believe she’d been rebellious. It is another thing to know she’s been abducted.

Ice-blue eyes patiently track my route through the desks. I don’t have to look to know he watches. His unreadable expression sends tingles across my skin. I stand straighter and push my shoulders back.

As I approach the wall of man, my oxygen supply dwindles. He easily stands half a foot taller than me, but his physical prowess isn’t derived merely from height. It’s his width and breadth, combined with the perma-scowl and those piercing light blue irises. His wavy dark hair and defined jaw round him out with a potent masculine beauty. My stomach knots, my pulse quickens, and I force my gaze to rise from the floor, up his strong legs, trim waist, and broad chest, to face the ice head on.