Chapter Thirty-two

Greyson

Dante Dellinger had instigated the sale. I knew it in my bones. The only proof I’d been able to secure was video footage of him at the greasy diner in South Boston. The day I saw him there wasn’t his first visit. He was also there five days earlier, meaning that he was at the diner on the day Cecilia was taken. He’d also been there the day before I found her. In my gut, I believed he facilitated her transfer.

Before we’d left the cabin, I began running a program to access the rear parking lot of the diner, the place where I’d killed the three men who held Cecilia and hurt her. If I could prove that Dante was there when they unloaded Cecilia from a vehicle, I would have irrefutable evidence.

So far it was circumstantial at best.

From my phone, I knew that my laptop was now off-line.

Another dead end.

“Tell me,” Cecilia said, her large brown eyes staring at me with more trust than I deserved.