He turned to look at the monitor that displayed the west wing of the house, where the girls’ bedrooms were located.

“The girls,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.

“He knows Benjamin would pay any amount of money, sign any waiver, or destroy any evidence to get those four girls back safely,” Marcus said. “And with the storm blocking the main pass, local police response is at least forty minutes away.”

“We need to get to them,” Pierce said, already moving toward the door. “Marcus, lock down the west wing doors. Nobody gets in or out.”

“I’ve tried,” Marcus said, his fingers flying across the security keyboard. “The master override isn’t responding. The system is showing an external bypass.”

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“Vance built the security integration for Caldwell Systems,” Marcus said, his face tightening as he grabbed his winter tactical jacket from the hook. “He has the administrative backdoors. He’s shutting down the internal locks.”

On the screen, the headlights of the SUV outside the gate suddenly flickered off.