The morning sun painted long shadows on the track as Tori and Javi fell into a steady jog, their sneakers rhythmically thudding against the gravel. They were alone except for the occasional flutter of a bird or the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Tori's hair was tied back tightly, swaying with each stride. As they rounded the first bend, she glanced at Javi.
"Naomi's story is solid," Tori said, her breath measured despite the exertion. "Her alibi for the night of the accident is airtight. Witnesses, time-stamped footage... it all checks out."
Javi nodded, his focus unwavering. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean she's not involved somehow. What about her crew? There has to be a connection there."
"Exactly." Tori’s mind raced faster than her legs could carry her, patterns and possibilities weaving through her thoughts with every step.
"Someone she works with could be our key to understanding Tally's involvement," she continued, squinting ahead as if the solution lay just beyond the next curve of the track.
"Let's dig deeper into her team then," Javi proposed, his eyes briefly meeting hers before scanning the surrounding area—habitual vigilance. "There must be something we're missing. A discrepancy, a slip-up."
Tori's breath came in measured bursts, a rhythm that matched the steady thumping of her sneakers against the rubber track. She could feel Javi's presence at her side, both of them drenched in the effort of their run, yet undeterred in their mission. As they rounded another bend, the motel became a distant backdrop to their investigative discourse.
"Javi," Tori panted, the idea sparking like a flare in the back of her mind, "we need to double-back on the seismic center—Early Response. There might be financial ties between them and Tally we haven't uncovered. Maybe he's connected some other way"
Javi glanced over, his stride never breaking. "Think they'd keep records of something shady?"
"Maybe not openly," Tori replied, pushing a strand of white hair from her face.
"Alright," he agreed with a nod, "it's worth a shot."
The conversation settled into silence as they reached the final stretch of the track. The morning air was thick with the promise of rain. Without a word, an unspoken challenge passed between them. Their pace quickened, legs pumping harder, arms slicing through the humid air with newfound urgency. They were no longer just running—they were racing, each driven by the other's determination.
Side by side, they sprinted, the world around them blurring into streaks of color and light. Tori's heart hammered in her chest, each beat fueling her forward. Javi's breathing grew ragged beside her, but he matched her speed, neither willing to concede. The finish line loomed ahead, a tangible goal that mirrored the intangible one they sought: the truth.
With one final burst of energy, they crossed the line together, their bodies leaning into it as if it were the culmination of all their efforts. For a moment suspended in time, they stood shoulder to shoulder, chests heaving, grins spreading across their faces.
"Good run," Javi said between breaths, his grin a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.
"Great run," Tori corrected, her eyes shining.
As their laughter faded into the cool morning air, the two of them turned back towards their waiting vehicle, a somberness returning to the mood as they hastened towards the car.
Tori’s brow creased. Another visit to the seismic center would be met with more blockades. But one piece at a time, they were chipping away at the obstacles. Eventually, something would have to give.
***
The Early Response seismic detection center loomed before them, its angular modernity a stark contrast to the natural backdrop. Tori's gaze swept over the structure, her mind already sifting through the possibilities of connections hidden within. They approached with purposeful strides, the afterglow of their race still warming their muscles.
"Let's hope their records are as transparent as these glass walls," Tori muttered, eyes narrowing as they entered the lobby. The air inside held a sterile chill, much like the case that had been giving them both cold shivers since it began.
"Transparency isn't their hallmark, but we'll find a way in," Javi reassured her, his voice steady and confident.
Tori pulled out her phone with determination etched into the lines of her face. She dialed Janice, the boss at the agency, and waited for the familiar click of connection.
It came nearly instantly. “Is this Agent Spark,” the woman said.
Tori blinked in surprise. Janice was a competent one. She’d have to keep an eye out.
"Yes, it's Agent Spark," she said without preamble. "I'm at your office.”
“Here?”
“Downstairs.”
“What can I do for you agent? I’m busy, as you can imagine.”
“Do you know Gabriel Tally?”
A long pause. Too long.
“The millionaire?” Tori pressed.
“Why?”
It wasn’t denial. “We need to know if Tally or any of his relatives have ties here. Anything that connects him financially or personally. Especially if someone is involved in Naomi Fisher’s crew.
She paced a tight circle, her other hand clenched into a fist. Javi watched her, knowing better than to interrupt when she wore that look of fierce concentration.
"Financial transactions, grants, sponsorships, anything at all," Tori pressed on, her words sharp and quick like the cuts of a knife designed to carve out the truth.
She had entered the HQ, and could feel the receptionist watching her. But she hadn’t gone upstairs.
This was intentional.
Tori hoped that by staying downstairs, it might implicity advise Janice that if she cooperated, she wouldn’t have to interact with the FBI. But if she didn’t… they were right on her doorstep, waiting to pounce.
“I can come upstairs if you like,” Tori pressed. A bit heavy-handed, but she could feel the pressure of passing time.
A pause. “Let me check.”
The line went suddenly quiet. Tori waited, frowning, pacing back and forth. The receptionist was still staring at them from under the government logo over her head.
Javi watched curiously, but said nothing. His trusting nature often gave her more leeway than any partner might provide. Especially as she was newer to the agency than he was.
She waited a bit longer.
The line beeped a second time before Janice's voice filtered through, marked by an unusual hesitation. "Well… this is unusual.”
“What is?”
“There was a banquet Tally underwrote for us—a few months back."
"Anything else?" Tori's question shot out with practiced urgency.
"His niece or nephew, I think... works here," Janice continued, her tone uncertain. "I can't recall who exactly. I'm sorry."
“Anyone here by the name Tally?”
“I checked. No.”
Tori frowned. "Thanks, Janice," Tori replied, masking her frustration with a measured breath. She ended the call and turned to Javi, her gaze expectant.
"Let's see what we can dig up on this end," Javi said, having overheard the conversation and already thumbing through his phone with brisk efficiency.
Tori nodded. “Niece or nephew,” she said. “Didn’t know which.”
“No one named Tally at the office. We would’ve seen in the records.”
“An in-law? Someone who took on a different last name?”
Javi just shrugged, still tapping away on the device. A relative in the mix could be their missing link, the thread to pull that would unravel Tally's carefully woven tapestry of deception.
Minutes stretched into an excruciating void as Javi's fingers danced over the screen, sifting through digital records like a miner panning for gold. "Nothing," he muttered at last, the word falling heavy in the silence between them. "No connections to any of the employees. It's like Tally's personal life is scrubbed clean."
“Does he have any record of nephews or nieces?”
“None,” Javi said, wrinkling his nose. “No record of siblings either.”
“DMV? Birth certificates?”
“Nothing.”
“Shit.” Tori grimaced. "Maybe we're not looking in the right places," Tori said. “A millionaire might have… illicit children?”
Javi met her determined stare, his own resolve mirroring hers. Together, they stood in the dim glow of the Early Response center’s overhead lights, the weight of unanswered questions pressing down upon them. But it was not a weight to crush; it was a challenge to lift, and Tori had seen what Javi was capable of in the gym.
It wasn’t a testament of physical strength that mattered. But rather one of discipline and will.
The stuff of souls.
Javi's phone buzzed with a notification that drew both their attentions away from the abyss of fruitless search results. A social media alert, one that neither had expected but which now flickered on the screen like a beacon in the dark sea of uncertainty they were navigating.
"Wait, look at this," Javi said, his voice low but urgent as he angled the device towards Tori. “I sent an AI scrubber through Tally’s social media.”
Tori frowned. “With what parameters?” she leaned in.
“Naomi’s response team.”
“It wasn’t a large team.”
“No. But one of the names hit. Jason Fields,” Javi read off slowly, frowning at the screen. He turned it so she could see.
On the bright screen was an image, candid and seemingly innocuous, yet it sent a current of adrenaline surging through Tori's veins. Jason Fields, Naomi Fisher's right-hand man, stood shoulder to shoulder with Tally at some local event, both men sporting the kind of smiles that spoke of shared camraderie. The backdrop of the photo was a banner for the seismic detection center's charity banquet—the very one Janice had mentioned.
"Jason Fields," Tori murmured, her mind racing as fast as her pulse. "He's been at every single scene, Javi. Every one. I remember his name. He was with Naomi.”
"Too coincidental for comfort," Javi agreed, his eyes narrowing. He locked his phone and slipped it into the pocket of his joggers. With a single glance exchanged between them, no words necessary, the decision was made. It was time to confront Jason Fields directly.