Page 74 of Tracking Safety

“Maybe. But we were inside the cottages. He could have slipped by. He’s quiet like that.”

“True.”

Luke paused and forced himself to think clearly.

Liam was eight years old. He knew this property. He’d been coming here since before the shelter existed. He knew where the paths went and where the creek ran and how far back the tree line extended.

He also knew—because Luke had made sure of it, repeatedly and without softening it—that he was never to go into those woods alone.

Which meant he’d either gone somewhere on the property Luke hadn’t checked yet or he’d gone somewhere he wasn’t supposed to go.

Or . . . there was a third possibility. But Luke didn’t want to face that one yet.

Instead, his jaw tightened.

Jenna appeared beside him, pulling on her coat. “He didn’t take his jacket. But his shoes are missing.”

Luke turned to Caleb. “Take the east side of the property—the path along the fence line toward the creek. Check the equipment shed while you’re at it. I’ve found him hanging out there before.”

Caleb was already moving. “Got it.”

“Max.” Luke raised his voice toward the porch where Max had appeared in the doorway. “North end, past the cottages. Check there.”

Max nodded and stepped off the porch.

Luke turned toward Jenna. “You’re with me.”

The truth was that he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

She didn’t argue or ask where they were going. Instead, she just fell into step beside him as he turned toward the south end of the property—the long stretch of open ground that ran down to the fence line.

Liam knew he wasn’t supposed to go past that fence.

Which made Luke’s anxiety skyrocket even more.

They walked fast, neither of them speaking. There wasn’t anything to say yet that wouldn’t make the other person’s fear worse.

Luke’s mind kept running the same loop it always ran when something was wrong with one of his kids. Location, time elapsed, possible scenarios.

He was good at managing fear when it was other people’s fear. His own was harder to run to ground.

His gaze drifted to Jenna as they walked.

Her face looked tight. Most likely, she was doing the same thing he was—running the loop, keeping the worst of the possibilities below the surface, putting one foot in front of the other.

Whatever else she was, however the last couple of years had changed both of them, she was still Liam’s mother. She was still worried—deeply worried. He could see that plainly in the set of her jaw and the way her eyes darted around them.

They reached the fence and stopped.

The woods in front of them were quiet. No sound of movement, no snap of branches, no small voice answering a question no one had asked yet.

“Liam!” Luke’s voice carried through the trees and came back as silence.

Beside him, Jenna called too. “Liam!”

Nothing.

Luke looked at the woods and then at the fence. Finally, he found what he was looking for—a small disturbance in the moss on the other side.