Jake cranked the heat higher. He could barely feel his fingers. “She wasn’t in the water. She got out. She could already be at home.”
“No, she’s not!” Bobby shouted. “Mom would have called on the radio.”
Jake slammed his hand on the steering wheel, not hard, but loud enough to make Bobby flinch. “I know!”
The silence returned, hanging heavily in the cab. Jake sat there, hating himself for yelling at his brother.
He swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Bobby said, “Me, too.” Then, “I’m scared, Jake.”
“Me, too,” Jake said.
He eased the truck forward, kept the high beams on. Scanning the shoulders. The ditches. The fields.
Looking for Avery. Looking for anything that might give him an idea of where she went, and if she was okay.
He didn’t see his sister.
He didn’t see anything except water and the debris the storm kicked up.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Brock laid the contracts on Mitchell Robinson’s desk. “They’re all there,” he said.
Finally. He was almost done with this man. He couldn’t wait to get home and find Sam a doctor.
He didn’t like scaring that family, but he did what he had to do. With the money Mitchell paid, he could take time off to plan for the future. Find a job that didn’t entail him to put his life—and his family—on the line.
Mitchell was going through the contracts one by one, nodding as he put each aside. Brock watched the rain pound on the deck outside the huge windows. If he never saw another raindrop it’d be too soon.
“Did you have any trouble at the McKenna house?”
“No, sir. She was preoccupied and led me right into the house to use the phone. The Coulter contract was sitting on the desk under the phone. I was discreet, slipped it right under my clipboard. There was so much going on that I don’t think they’ll even notice it’s missing. She’ll probably think someone accidentally threw it away or that she misplaced it.”
Clive stepped into the room. “Rick Perez is on the phone for you, Mitchell. One of the McKenna girls is missing.”
Mitchell picked up the phone on his desk. Brock couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he froze when he heard Mitchell say, “Hello, Sheriff, what can I do for you?”
The McKenna girl.
The redhead Rena had taken with her.
Brock needed to be calm. He’d leave her tied up in the Coulter house, they’d find her in the morning. Just like the family he’d left behind. All he wanted was to leave Cooke County tonight, no matter how bad the storm. He regretted taking this job and regretted ever knowing Mitchell Robinson.
Mitchell listened for a long minute, looking straight at Brock. Brock forced himself not to react, and not to look away. “I see, Rick. I’ll definitely be cautious… Hmm. Yes. Of course. How is Greg?” Brock couldn’t read his expression, but Mitchell had a good poker face.
This was fucked. Brock needed his money and he needed to get out of here now. Was Mitchell going to hold this over his head? Was he going to gyp him on the money he owed him?
Brock’s fists involuntarily clenched, and he forced himself to relax.
“Let me know what I can do for Greg’s girls. Anything… Yes, we’re hunkered down for the night, good to hear that the flooding seems to be isolated. Thanks, Rick.”
Mitchell put his phone down on the receiver. He stared at Brock. “There’s a lot you haven’t told me,” he said, voice low and angry.
“I brought you the contracts. Pay up, and I’m outta here.”
“Do you have her?”
