28. Gabe

TWENTY-EIGHT

Gabe

I'd been doing chores for my dad for hours, and all I could think about was Kat.

The house was quiet today; Dad's nurse hadn't been able to come in with the snow. That meant I was responsible for getting the driveway shoveled, weatherproofing the house…whatever he needed.

He always liked bossing me around.

When I was a kid, it bothered me; now, I didn't mind it.

Snow crunched under my boots, shovel in hand, breath misting the cold air. Another snowstorm was coming, but Dad's nurse had said she'd try to make it over before then—I wanted to make sure she had a place to park. Soon, I would leave here, swing by the diner, and grab food for the girls.

Then, home .

Home with the woman I loved—and who loved me back.

I was heaving another load of powder off to the side when the crunch of tires on snow caught my ear. I straightened, rubbing a gloved hand over my face, and squinted against the gray sky.

Chris's squad car rolled up. Not normal, him coming here without a call first.

My gut clenched. This couldn't be good.

He killed the engine, the door swung open, and Chris was out before his car had fully stopped humming. In his grip, he held a file, thick and ominous. Snow kicked up from his urgent steps.

"Sorry, Gabe," he said, voice tight, eyes all business. "Need you to see this. Inside?"

"Sure."

We trudged through the threshold, me trailing Chris, both shedding snow. The door shut with a thud behind us. Dad looked up from his coffee, a grin on his face that faded fast when he caught sight of Chris's frown.

"Chris," Dad said, the smile slipping away. "What brings you out here?"

"Morning, Mr. Mitchell." Chris nodded, but his eyes didn't meet Dad's. "Got something for Gabe."

"Something wrong?" Dad asked.

"Yeah—I'll show you," Chris said and headed straight for the kitchen.

I followed, throwing a puzzled look over my shoulder at Dad. He was close on our heels, quick even with his walker. In the kitchen, the air felt too still. Chris yanked out a chair, motioning for me to sit. I did, slowly, watching him spread papers across the worn wooden table.

"Okay," I started, "what's all this?"

"Those two goons who broke into Kat's place," Chris said, tapping the file, "they're singing."

"About what?" Dad's voice cut in.

"Trying to dodge a heavier sentence. They've given us something to work with." Chris's gaze pinned me, steady, serious. "They talked about Kat."

"Kat?" Her name punched the air out of me. "What did they say?"

"Seems they were hired. And they're willing to deal to avoid going down for something bigger."

"Who'd hire them to go after her?" Dad asked, leaning forward, knuckles whitening on the tabletop.

"Here's the thing," Chris said, his voice low, "they don't know much about the guy. But they let slip he mentioned selling land. So I dug around."

"Selling?" My pulse hammered in my ears. I reached for the papers, trying to make sense of them. "Selling what land?"

"Ben's," Chris said, and it was like a jolt through me. "He was planning to sell some property. Might be why he got shot before he could spill too much to Kat."

I stared at the documents, lines and words swimming before my eyes. Unfinished paperwork, signatures missing, deals left hanging in the air…

Shit.

"So it was the developer, right?" I asked. "He hired these guys to kill Ben and…"

Chris shook his head. "Jones has an alibi and the guys have never seen him. Maybe they're covering for him, but I doubt it."

"Then who?" Dad's voice was sharp with concern.

Chris hesitated, then dropped the bomb. "Multiple sightings in town. Kat's cousin, Owen, seen with Nia George. And guess what? The description the home invaders gave? Matches perfectly."

"Owen," I echoed, my thoughts racing like a wild river breaking its banks. He'd always been a troublemaker, yeah…and he'd always wanted to screw Ben over. Every time Ben and I had fought, it had been instigated by Owen.

Owen, who was always salty that he hadn't inherited that ranch.

"Yep." Chris spread his hands on the table, a grim look in his eyes. "Nia's been around, stirring the pot. And if these guys are talking, it's because they're scared of something bigger than jail time."

"Damn." Dad ran a hand over his beard, eyes narrowing. "Owen and Nia, huh?"

"Looks that way." Chris said it plain and simple, but his voice had an edge sharper than any knife. "The sheriff is headed over to Owen's place now, and he has another squad on their way to track down Nia. Heard you were over here so I swung by on my way to the ranch."

"Kat needs to know." The words burst from me before I could think them through. "We've gotta tell her. Now."

"Agreed." Chris stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor.

I grabbed my coat and hustled out the door, Chris hot on my heels. We bolted to his squad car, tires crunching over the frostbitten gravel. As Chris turned on his emergency lights, I hit Kat's number on speed dial, the phone pressed so hard to my ear it might've left a mark.

Ring after ring, but no answer.

"Come on, Kat," I muttered, redialing the moment it went to voicemail. No luck. She wasn't picking up.

Fumbling with my phone, I pulled up the security app only to find static where there should've been a live feed. "Cameras are down," I said, a sinking feeling in my gut. Jesus…Owen had been there the day I installed the cameras. This was bad, bad, bad… "Nothing's working."

"Damn," Chris cursed under his breath. He gestured toward a lockbox under the dash. "This is… very much against protocol, but the code is 7511; you need to be armed, just in case."

I looked over at him, knowing that meant he suspected the worst.

If she was hurt…I would burn down the world to destroy anyone who'd harmed her.

The two of us armed, we skidded into the Martin Ranch driveway, the squad car's tires spitting up snow. I leapt out before we'd fully stopped, boots slipping on the ice. There was Kat's car, hatch gaping like an open wound, no sign of her or Livy. The front door to the house hung loose on its hinges, swinging lazily in the biting wind.

"Kat!" I yelled, voice swallowed by the vastness of the ranch. No response. "Livy!"

"Check around back," Chris barked, already heading for the side of the house.

"Right." My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing fear.

Fear for Kat. For Livy.

We cleared the house room by room, finding nothing but the cold silence of absence. No Kat. No Livy. Just emptiness and the lingering scent of fear that seemed to permeate every corner.

"Outside," I said once we came up empty. "She has to be here somewhere."

"Let's move." Chris's voice was grim, and we headed back into the winter air.

Just as we got back outside, a bark shattered the stillness, frantic and insistent. Bandit. I bolted towards the sound, Chris on my heels, our boots crunching in the snow.

"Where are you, boy?" I called out, breath clouding before me.

The barking grew louder, more desperate as we neared the barn. A bag of feed lay spilled about halfway there, forgotten. I grabbed the barn door, icy metal biting into my skin, and hauled it open.

Bandit burst out, his fur bristling, barks morphing into low growls. He skidded past us and sprinted to the driveway, nose to the ground, sniffing frantically. We followed…and it was only then that we saw them.

Tire treads, barely visible under fresh snow.

"Almost covered over…he's a good dog," Chris muttered. "Someone was here, and it looks like they left in a hurry."

"Damn it." I stood up, fists clenched. "This is bad, Chris. Real bad."

"Let's follow them."

I glanced up at the sky, the clouds heavy and darkening by the second. "We gotta find her, Chris. And fast."

"Another storm?" he asked, following my gaze.

"Yep. A big one." I swallowed hard. "We don't have much time."

"Okay; I'm working on getting a trace on her phone." Chris pulled out his phone, tapping rapidly. "I'll call it in. Get a search team ready."

"Good." I paced a tight circle, every nerve on edge. "Let's go; the search team can join us."

I turned, following Bandit's lead, the dog still tracing the scent of the intruder. Whoever had taken Kat and Livy had just made the biggest mistake of their life.

Because I wouldn't rest until I brought them home.