“There are,” Clay confirmed. “They all went dark for twenty minutes around midnight the night before.”
Tech could have done that. Magic could have done it faster and easier. But wargs didn’t have magic.
Proof we had two killers working together? Or evidence our cinematographer was also a hacker?
“We need to contact the Bureau,” I decided. “Let them know he’s a person of interest in our case.”
But if there were two of them…and they had been coordinating with one another…
“Get the Kellies to cross-check the agents present at each scene.” I let my attention drift back to the film. “We know Kidd was there, so the senior agent assigned to him was too. Who else?”
“You won’t want to hear this, but you need to rest.” Clay checked the time. “It’s almost eleven.”
The whole day was a blur of frantic movement and panicked thoughts, but I couldn’t stop yet.
“Colby is exhausted.” Asa hit me where it hurt. “I guarantee she won’t sleep a wink without you.”
Poor thing was in her rig, but she was drooping. Her antennae hung in her eyes, but she didn’t care.
“I’ll work through the night.” Clay made it a promise. “If I get anything good, I’ll wake you.”
“Okay.” I raised my hands in defeat. “I’ll sit with her long enough to put her to sleep.”
Leaving the guys to continue digging, I edged toward Colby, who was deathly pale for a white moth.
“I don’t want to sleep.” She kept staring at the screen, but it was obvious she wasn’t seeing it. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I’m not fine. No one is fine.” I removed her headset and scooped her into my arms. “It’s been a rough day for all of us.” I aimed us down the hall. “Let’s curl up in your room and unwind.”
“Okay.” She snuggled closer. “We can do that.”
The door to her bedroom stood ajar, and I nudged it wider with my foot.
We discovered along the way that she slept best in a more natural environment. I papered the walls in a forest mural, painted the ceiling with blue skies—thankfully a sea sponge did most of the work for me—and matched it with green carpet. She opted to ditch her bed, and instead I had filled the space with tall artificial plants I fastened to the floor to support her weight if she decided to light on them. In the center of it all, I had strung a Colby-sized hammock that blended with her surroundings. I set her down in there.
In the far corner, a gray beanbag chair, representative of a rock, gave me a place to lounge with her.
“I’m going to veg on my phone,” I told her. “You shut your eyeballs.”
“I can’t shut my eyeballs, but I can close my eyelids.”
“Don’t sass your elders, smarty fuzz butt.” I switched off the light with an effort of will. “Sweet dreams.”