Chapter 3

THREE

CROOKED CREEK POLICE STATION

Ranger Cord McClain strode into the police station, his fists knotted. It was Thanksgiving Day and he wanted to talk to Ellie. But he hadn't heard a peep from her in three weeks.

Three weeks of hell for him.

He'd stopped by her house a half dozen times and there was no sign she'd been home in a while. Her boss, Captain Hale, mentioned he'd ordered her to take some time off after the last grueling case, but Cord had figured that meant a day or two tops. Ellie thrived on work and was not a slacker. He'd assumed she'd gone off on a case—or a romantic vacation—with Special Agent Derrick Fox and had tried to accept it.

But he had to talk to her anyway. If she was happy with Fox, he'd wish her well. They'd still be friends. He also wanted to keep working with her and Fox on the task force.

Deputy Shondra Eastwood sat at her desk in the bullpen. She and Ellie were friends so he strode toward her. She looked up with a small smile, her gold turban accentuating her creamy dark skin. "Hey, Ranger McCord."

"Hey. Do you know where Ellie is?"

A frown pinched her face. "No, I haven't heard from her."

"What about Fox?"

"He hasn't been here either."

"I'll try him and see if she's with him." Still, a bad feeling climbed up his neck the way it did when he was on a rescue mission that didn't end well. He stepped into Ellie's office to make the call. Fox answered on the third ring.

"It's McClain. Is Ellie with you?"

"No," Fox answered. "I haven't talked to her since the last case."

Hell, if she wasn't with either one of them, where was she?

"I'm at the station and Deputy Eastwood and the captain haven't heard from her either. Have you talked to her father?"

Fox cleared his throat. "Randall's not exactly friendly with me. Why don't you call him and let me know what he says."

Things were tense between Fox and Ellie's father because Randall, the sheriff at the time Fox's little sister went missing years ago, had dropped the ball on the investigation. Just recently Fox reopened it, and he and Ellie had found his sister's body.

Cord ended the call then quickly punched Randall's number.

"Reeves," the man said in a gruff voice when he answered.

"It's McClain. How're you doing, sir?"

"Fine except I'm worried about Ellie," Randall said. "I talked to her early this morning and she promised to be home for Thanksgiving dinner tonight but it's almost six and she isn't here yet. I warned her a snowstorm was coming and to get home, thought maybe she got snowed in. But she's not answering her phone."

The bad feeling in Cord's gut morphed to borderline panic. "Where was she?" Cord asked.

"Emerald Falls Inn on Coal Mountain."

Cord's mind raced. That was a little over half an hour from Crooked Creek. He'd worked SAR, Search and Rescue, with FEMA for years. With the sudden snowstorm, freezing temperatures and the miles of untamed land on the Appalachian Trail, even experienced hikers could get lost or slip and fall. Or succumb to the elements. There were also dangerous animals in the woods. A wild boar could blow a pint-sized woman like Ellie away in seconds.

"I'll drive up and check on her," Cord said.

"Thanks, McClain. I'd go with you, but Ellie would have a hissy fit if I showed up acting all parental."

Cord bit back a chuckle. He was right about that. Ellie was as stubborn as a mule and independent to a fault.

"Copy that." He hung up, contemplating whether or not to go alone. But if Ellie was in trouble, he might need help.

He punched Fox's number and relayed his conversation with Randall. "I'm heading to Coal Mountain as soon as I pack some gear."

"I'll go with you."

Cord agreed, then told Shondra and hurried outside to his truck. He'd pick up his SAR dog, Benji, on the way.

But as he stepped outside, the snow was thickening and the temperature was dropping quickly. If whiteout conditions occurred and Ellie was hurt or trapped in the woods, it might be difficult to find her.

They had to hurry.