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I lifted the recorder and hit play.

“You’re too late, Fury,” Auclair’s voice rang out.

“Smug bastard,” Beau muttered.

“I’ve taken her where you’ll never find her. She’s locked up tight…and running out of air.” He laughed.

I ground my teeth together.

“You killed Maurelle fast, but Francesca’s death will be slow. And she’ll know that you are to blame.” There was a shuffling noise. “Plead for your life, so he can hear you.”

“Screw you!”

At Frankie’s sharp voice, my pulse leaped.

“Ow, she bit me,” another man said.

Beside me, Beau chuckled.

“Enough,” Auclair snapped. “Get her out of here.” There was a pause. “Fury, enjoy the helplessness of knowing she’s dying, and there’s nothing you can do. I know you’ll try to find her, but you won’t succeed.”

The recording ended.

I had no clue where he’d taken her.

We were at a dead-end.

I looked up at my brothers. “I don’t know where to look next.”

Colt lifted his phone. “I’ll update Noah. They had to have a vehicle to transport her. He can check traffic cams.”

Frankie.

I felt pressure building in my chest. Images flowed in my head like a movie—Frankie smiling at me, the way she sang off-key in the shower, the way she got lost in her work.

I could lose her.

No. I dug deep and found my control, my focus.

She needed me. I wouldn’t let her down.

I glanced at the chair and touched her blood. Then I spotted something on the dirty floor.

“Wait.” I shoved the chair away and switched on the flashlight on my phone. I held it up.

“Scuff marks,” Colt said. “Someone scuffled.”

“Look at this.” I crouched.

Kav leaned over. “Are those…letters?”

“Yes.” I grinned. “Written in smudged blood. Smart girl. She left us a clue.”

“It looks like C-R-Y-O.” Colt frowned. “Cryo? What’s that mean?”

“Maybe Auclair’s putting her in the fridge somewhere?” Kav suggested.

I snapped several pictures of the letters. “I’ll get this back to PSS. It means something.”