Chapter 30

30

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

T he road stretches out before us like a ribbon of possibilities, all of them dire. The fog comes over us in billows, and this end of Colorado looks as if it's blinking in and out of existence like a dream. Like a nightmare.

We land in Briarwood in record time and the lights are glowing in Damien Cole's home at this early hour.

We give a brisk knock and Damien comes to the door with hair askew and a coffee cup in his hand, his right hand still bandaged.

"Agents." He straightens. "You found her? You found Lydia?"

"No," Jack says sharply before filling him in on Nikki and why we're here.

Damien shakes his head. "I don't know what's happening, but there must be some mistake. I'm sorry about your colleague, but I don't have her." He pins us both with a dark look. "Take the car. Do as you wish with it. I'm leaving in a few hours for Sugar Pine Lake. The convention starts at six, but there's an event beforehand I need to attend. Like I said, I'm going to task everyone there with the sole mission to find my wife. It seems the two of you are incapable of doing so." He disappears briefly before shoving a set of keys in my hand. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be taking a shower now." He closes the door to the house and the garage door opens with a yawn. A silver sedan reveals itself, nestled next to a black SUV.

Jack and I pull on a pair of gloves and head that way.

Typically, we'd let forensics have the honor, but if Nikki is somehow in there, then we need to act quickly.

I unlock the door, doing my best not to touch a thing. The trunk pops open, and soon we're looking at an empty space lined with dark carpet. There could be blood, sweat, and tears embedded into it and we wouldn't be aware of it. I'm half-tempted to spray it down with luminal right now. But if I botch anything up that could have led to a conviction, I'll never forgive myself.

Jack sends Hale a message to call the tow truck and the two of us offer to wait.

We settle back in his truck, out of the icy mist that's blanketed the neighborhood.

Buddy snores audibly in the back as we stare at both Damien's home and Owen's for what feels like an unsettling amount of time.

"One of them could be our monster," I say.

"Maybe they're working together." He blows out a breath. "I've seen stranger things. Speaking of stranger things, what are we going to do with Marco Rossi?"

"You're not going to do anything," I tell him. "My sister, my problem."

"My partner, my problem," he counters with his gaze searing into mine. "I'm not letting you go at this alone."

"I don't want to think about it right now."

"Hey." He taps his hand over mine. "I'm here for you. I mean it."

"I know. Thank you," I say before leaning over and offering him a spontaneous embrace.

I'm not your touchy-feely type. I am definitely not your happy-go-lucky type. But if you offer to help my family in any way, you warm my very soul. And that's what Jack has done.

I pull back just enough, our arms still clamped around one another.

"You've been a very good friend to me," I whisper.

"I feel like I should apologize," he half-teases.

A small laugh escapes me. "Maybe you should."

Jack's eyes bore into mine and the temperature spikes in his truck from the tension rising between us.

Those eyes, so blue—aquamarine is more like it.

He glowers a bit before leaning in with his mouth poised toward mine.

My lips part as if I'm about to say something, to protest, or not?—

But before any of the above happens, a sharp knock explodes against the driver's side window and we jump apart like a couple of teenagers.

We look up to see Hale growling at us before waving the tow truck in this direction.

This day is already off to a bad start.