My stomach drops immediately.
I get out of the truck fast, moving before I can even fully process what I’m seeing. I rush over to the car, ripping the door open, checking for a pulse on the driver and the deputy in the passenger seat.
Neither of them are dead, thank fuck. But no amount of shaking or calling their names wakes them up. Drugged, then.
Fuck.
Panic spikes hard in my chest, and I turn and run for the house.
“Cash! Everett!” If they got here before me, maybe they were caught up in this. Maybe they know something. But there’s no answer. “Harper!” I yell her name, but no one answers back.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I get inside, and immediately I know something’s wrong. There’s a scuff mark on the floor and one of the chairs in the kitchen is knocked over. The blanket that lives over the back of the couch is thrown on the floor, a book scattered on top of it like it was tossed aside hastily.
My stomach is in knots as I climb the stairs, keeping my ears open for anything. The master bedroom door is wide open, light shining into the dark hall.
I step in carefully, noting that the sheets are half off the bed. The lamp that usually sits on the nightstand is shattered on the floor, like someone grabbed for it and dragged it off.
And worst of all, Harper’s scent is strong all over the room, but it’s not just hers. It’s mixed with something else. Something unfamiliar and sharp that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Shit. Cora! Cora, are you here?”
There’s a small sound from the closet, barely a whisper, and I run over, tearing the door open.
Something settles just the slightest bit at seeing Cora there, huddled under a blanket, tucked into a little nest in the corner. Her eyes are wide, and she clutches her ratty stuffed animal like it’s the only thing keeping her together.
“Oh thank fuck,” I whisper, reaching in to gather her up. Her small frame shudders hard as she clings to me, letting me scoop her into my arms. “Are you hurt?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
I check her over just in case, relief hitting me hard to see her alive and unharmed.
Footsteps pound on the stairs, and I whip around in time to see Cash and Everett come bursting into the room.
“What the fuck happened?” Cash demands. He takes one look around the room, and his expression shifts immediately.
Everett does the same, his investigation hat coming on as he looks everything over and his face settles into grim lines.
“It was Geoffrey,” he says. “It has to be.”
“I can’t find Harper,” I tell them. “Cora was in the closet, so she must have hidden her, but…”
“Fuck. I’ll go make sure she’s not here somewhere. And that no one else is either.” His face promises that if anyone is hiding in here, they’ll wish they weren’t before too long.
He dashes off and Everett pulls out his phone, starting to make calls. He calls in favors all across the county, pulling every contact and every string he can to see what we can do to find Harper.
I just keep a hold of Cora, stroking a hand down her back to try to keep her calm.
“Did you see anything?” I ask her, hating that I have to, but needing to know.
She swallows hard, still shaking. But she points toward the window, toward the back road that runs behind our property. “Bad man,” she whispers. “Mama scared.”
“Is that where they went?”
She nods, and my heart aches, thinking about her watching through the window as someone dragged the closest thing she has to a mother now away.
“We’ll get her back,” I murmur.
Cash and Everett come back in, and I tell them what Cora said. “The maps,” Cash says. “Of the property and thesurrounding area. When we bought the place, a survey was done of the area. We can see if there’s a way to track them.”