“You have good instincts, Reece. Any hunches on this one?”
Reece scrubbed his hand over his beard. “At this juncture, I don’t know what to think. Neve tries to reach you, then me right afterward. She doesn’t keep an appointment with a very upset pet owner—which isnotlike Neve—and Dr. Bunting is missing.” A light bulb blasted on in Reece’s head. “Have you tried tracking Dr. Bunting’s phone?”
“As a matter of fact, we have. Hang on. I’m getting something now.” Excruciating silence stretched and stretched. When Shane came back on the line, his usual drawl was missing, replaced by a telltale urgency. “We found Neve’s Tahoe.”
Reece’s blood pressure spiked. “Is she in it? Is she okay? Where is it?”
“The Tahoe was parked behind the depot. Scuff marks, like something was dragged from it, but no sign of foul play. The only sign of Neve is her winter jacket.”
“The blue one?”
“Yes.” Her warmest coat, the same one she’d been wearing when Reece had last seen her, which meant she could be out in the elements without any protection. Shane continued, “Also, we’ve picked up a few pings from Bunting’s cell phone, all in the same area. You’re heading right toward it. Seventeen miles from your current location.” Shane gave him the mile marker. “I’m getting in my vehicle now, and I’m headed your way.”
Desperation burst through its confines. “I need to find her, Shane!”
“I know, buddy, and you will. Remember, it’s what you do best.”
But would he find her in time? Reece and his team had failed to rescue people in these same conditions, instead recovering their bodies. A shudder racked him.
Don’t go there. It’s not gonna help you find her.
Lark Bunting was the key. Somehow she was tied to Neve. Whether she too had been taken or was responsible for Neve’s disappearance, he could only guess, but if he found one woman, he was certain he’d find the other.Twoneedles in a haystack.
He depressed the accelerator, his tires spitting gravel as the truck launched from the turnout and hurled down the highway.
Chapter 32
Detritus
Neve dreamed she wasin a cold, dark place, her body curled up in a fetal position and leeching its warmth into unyielding rocky ground. But when her heart began pounding against her rib cage like a prisoner trying to break out of a cell, she quickly realized this was no dream. It was an all-too-real nightmare.
Where was she? How had she gotten here? As fragmented memories slid their way back into her consciousness, a double dose of panic and adrenaline flooded her veins. Images, each one fuzzy around the edges, flashed on her mind’s movie screen. A needle stick to her neck. A woman manhandling her, her harsh voice ordering her to walk, a jostling car ride, the same voice ordering her into the back of a strange vehicle, a smelly tarp settling heavily on top of her, the beginning of another chaoticcar ride, then the light going out. And now she was here—whereverherewas. She was outside, and it was dark and freezing. What was this place?
She rolled onto her back, ready to prop herself up on her elbows, when pain shot up her arm, through her shoulder, stealing what little air her body had stored in her lungs.
Shit! What’s wrong with my arm?
Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.
The mantra didn’t work.
Instead, the fuzzy memories crystallized, and her instincts screamed at her to get up, to get moving, that more danger lurked nearby.
Though she was dizzy and confused, a new chant sounded in her head:Run, run, run!But where? If only she could make sense of where she was and, more urgently, the location of her kidnapper, she could solve that question. She needed to get her bearings, but her vision wasn’t feeding her any clues.
A new question surfaced:What would Reece tell a survivor to do?She slowed her breaths, tried to box breathe, lost her rhythm, and started up again. Meanwhile, she tested her other arm, relieved when it held her weight. Wiggled her toes, her feet. They tingled with numbness, but they worked.
Trying to make sense of her world, she blinked, struggling to focus. A canopy of tree limbs stretched overhead, fading into an occluded, inky sky, so it was difficult to tell one from the other. She could smell snow coming. What time was it? She felt her back pocket but didn’t find her phone. Worse, she no longer wore her down jacket, and shivers ran a race track over her chilled body.
“Get a grip,”a voice sounded inside her head.“You gotta move, girl.”
The mountains were not her friend. It was dark. She was cold. She was lost. And she was scared.
She tucked the hurt arm against her side and dug her good elbow into the rocky ground, gritting her teeth against the bite of sharp points poking tender spaces. She felt every single stone as she oh-so-slowly pulled her body upright, gasping when she jostled her bad arm. Panting from the exertion, she sat still and took inventory. Her entire body ached. Pins and needles fired off everywhere, and they hurt like hell, but she welcomed the sensation. At least she couldfeel. And if her legs worked, she could get out of here.
A warning voice in her head told her to be as quiet as the air surrounding her. What if her abductor lurked nearby and heard her struggling? Heard her breathing? Came and finished the job?
At last, her vision began to clear, adjusting to the darkness. A vague thud made her pulse skyrocket. Whoever had done this to her might be creeping toward her now. She was exposed, vulnerable. What should she do? Flatten herself against the ground like a wild rabbit and hope that, by keeping still, they wouldn’t see her? Or should she run for it, footfalls and noises be damned? How far could she get? Her one arm was useless, and she didn’t have a lot of faith in the rest of her body. All these thoughts bombarded her foggy brain like an incoming hail of bullets. She had to decide.
