Chapter 48

ERIC

I gripped the edge of my seat as Alex's truck flew down the dirt driveway. I'd talked to the troopers a few minutes ago. With no one in the house or the SUV, they were about to search the barn. If Riley and the driver weren't there, they'd wait for more backup before searching the forest.

I checked my watch. It had been forty minutes since the security system's alarm was triggered. Even if Riley and Sherlock had gone into the forest, it didn't make sense that they hadn't returned. Unless they'd seen the SUV.

As soon as Alex stopped the truck, two troopers were waiting for us.

The first held out his hand. "I'm Trooper Ray Winchell, and this is Trooper Moira Sanderson."

I shook their hands. "Have you found them?"

"Not yet. The barn's clear. The NYPD has spoken to the woman who rented the SUV. Gloria Torrington works for Craig Sturgess. Mr. Sturgess flew into Broomfield Airport this morning."

I ran my hand through my hair. "I can't believe it."

"You know him?" Alex asked.

"He's my literary agent." I turned to Trooper Winchell. "Did Gloria say why he's here?"

"He wanted to make sure you're all right."

My jaw clenched. I appreciated Craig's concern, but he should have called. "Riley must have seen Craig and decided to stay away."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Or he could have hurt himself while he was with Sherlock."

I looked around the property. "It's possible but unlikely. Riley isn't reckless. He wouldn't do anything that could harm him or Sherlock unless it was a life-and-death situation." The dry grass surrounding the house shimmered in the hot afternoon sun. "He left the house to take Sherlock outside. It's hot. Unless Sherlock was on his leash, he would've looked for shelter under the trees."

I hurried toward the house.

Trooper Sanderson followed me. "Be careful what you touch. We don't know what's going on yet."

"I know Craig. He wouldn't hurt Riley." I opened the door. The first thing I saw was the mixing bowl. I walked across to the table and touched the rim. "Riley was baking before he left."

"The oven's still warm, but he had enough time to turn it off." Sanderson pointed to the satellite phone. "He didn't read the message you sent."

I slowly turned around. Sherlock's leash was still draped over the coat stand. I frowned at the assortment of jackets, boots, and bags beside the front door. Something wasn't right.

I hunted through the bags. "One of the packs is missing." Hope flared inside me. I ran outside to Alex. "Did you move one of the backpacks?"

"No. We left them by the front door in case we needed to make a quick exit. Do you think Riley took one of them?"

"He must have." I looked over my shoulder at Sanderson. "I know where he's gone."

Trooper Winchell pointed toward the trees. "Is that Craig Sturgess?"

I held my hand above my eyes, then started running. "It is," I yelled over my shoulder. "Get the first aid kit. He's hurt."