Phoebe's POV
After breakfast, Brittany and I hit the road.
Our mission was straightforward—grab Joe and drag her back.
Johnson had been right when he said Joe couldn't slip away. He'd been watching her every move like a hawk.
"Check it out, Phoebe. She's got luggage with her. Still thinks she can make a run for it?" Johnson's voice dripped with amusement as he nodded toward the sketchy figure lurking in the distance.
Brittany craned her neck to get a better look. "Seriously? She picks now to bail? That ship sailed ages ago."
Johnson eased the car into a low-key parking spot along the curb, his eyes locked on Joe. She wasn't using her own ride—instead, she stood there in a baseball cap and face mask, thumb out for a rideshare pickup.
"How about we mess with the driver's profile, show up instead, and once we get her in the backseat..." Johnson drew a finger across his throat.
Brittany's face lit up. "Genius. Give me a moment to mess with the app's driver details."
