“She left before it started raining.”
I shake my head, glancing back at the window. The rain’s coming down in sheets now, visibility already shot. “Forecast said this was going to be bad. Really bad. Flash flooding, roads washing out… and she’s out there in that old Chevy?”
We stare at each other for a beat, the same thought landing at the same time.
“We need to go find her.”
I’m already moving, but Reid’s ahead of me, dialing again, pressing the phone to his ear as he heads for the door. Then he swears under his breath. “Not going through. Either her phone’s off or she’s got no signal.”
I glance at the window again. The rain is getting heavier by the second. “It’s getting worse.”
Reid doesn’t slow. “Doesn’t matter. We have to find her.”
That’s it. That’s the decision.
I follow him out, the cold air hitting as we push through the door, rain immediately soaking through the shoulders of my jacket. We don’t hesitate. Just head straight for the truck.
We’re both trying Tal as Reid pulls out of the parking lot, tires hissing on wet pavement.
He gets through first. “Tal. Did she take the car?”
A beat. Then: “Yes.”
Reid’s grip tightens on the wheel. “Fuck. We have to find her. Where are you?”
“On Bakers Street.”
I lean forward slightly, squinting through the blur of rain ahead. “If she’s got any sense, she’ll avoid the high pass and head for I-70.”
Reid relays it quickly.
“Alright, I’m heading there,” Tal says. “Cut across Temple. Meet me at the intersection to Summertown. We’ll go in convoy.”
“Okay, Tal. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
The line goes dead.
For a second, neither of us says anything. Just the sound of rain, the engine, the wipers fighting to keep up.
Then Reid exhales, low and steady. “We need to figure it out.”
I glance at him.
“To answer your question,” he adds, eyes fixed on the road, “after we find her and bring her back. We need to figure it out because I’m not letting her go again.”
I hold his gaze for a second, then nod once.
He’s right.
“I’m not letting her go either.”
CHAPTER 29
Sierra
The rain is coming down hard now, and it’s not looking like it’s going to stop anytime soon. In fact, quite the opposite. It’s pounding against my little Chevy Impala like it has something personal against it… or against who’s inside it, perhaps. The rain’s so heavy now that visibility is down to just a few yards, and it feels almost like I’m enclosed in all directions within some kind of bubble of trapped air, deep under the sea. The world beyond the glass might as well not exist. No headlights. No movement. Just water and darkness. I shiver involuntarily and try the ignition once again.
“Come on, old girl. You can do it.”