Page 154 of Peaks and Promises

“Yeah,” Garrett answered.

“Axel took Nate,” Reese said, his tone all business. “Grabbed him while he was at Lumberjack Park. I put a GPS tracker in his shoe, so I’m following south on ninety-seven. Looks like he stopped. If I give you the location, can you alert local law enforcement?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Reese told him the location based on the tracker, and we waited while Garrett relayed the information over his radio.

“Stopping for dinner?” Garrett asked when he got back on the line. “The guy has balls, I’ll give him that.”

“Might just be to use the restroom,” I said. “Nate is notorious for needing to pee on long drives.”

“Local cop is on his way,” he said. “I know you want to rush in and get Nate back, but let the officer handle it.”

Reese gripped the steering wheel and his jaw hitched. He didn’t like that. “I know.”

“We’ll touch base in a bit,” Garrett said. “Hopefully Nate is there.”

“Thanks,” Reese said.

The call ended, and I gave Reese a worried look.

“Hopefully Nate is there? Where else would he be?”

“Either he’s there, or his shoes are.”

A sick feeling spread through me. Nate had to be there. If he wasn’t—if we couldn’t track him with GPS—how would we find him?

My eyes remained glued to the tracker on Reese’s phone while he drove, closing the distance to that precious dot on the map. We approached the exit, and my heart rate rose. I was afraid for my son, but more than anything, I was furious. It was going to take a lot of self-control not to launch myself at Axel as soon as I saw him.

The restaurant wasn’t far from the highway. No bikes in the parking lot, but I had a feeling Axel was in a different vehicle. The local cop was already there. His car was out front.

Reese parked while I held up the phone, trying to determine where the signal was coming from.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s inside,” I said. “How precise is the signal?”

He took the phone and glanced around. “I think it’s coming from the silver car.”

I practically flew out of the SUV. Reese called out after me—probably telling me to wait—but I didn’t listen. I hurried to the silver sedan and looked in the windows.

Empty.

“Where is he?” Panic rose, making my throat feel tight, and I struggled to catch my breath.

Reese looked in the windows, his brow furrowing. “Let’s go talk to the cop.”

He took my hand, and as we went into the restaurant, I scanned the dining room, desperate for a glimpse of Nate. A few of the tables and booths had customers, but most were empty. And no sign of Nate. Or Axel.

The police officer stood near the entrance to the kitchen talking with a man in a white shirt and blue tie. Probably the manager.

We hurried over. “We’re looking for my son,” I said. “He should be here, but I don’t see him. Has anyone checked the restrooms?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the cop said. “It doesn’t sound like he’s been here.”

“Haven’t seen any kids,” the manager said with a shake of his head. “Not since earlier this morning.”

“He’s tall for his age.” My voice sounded desperate, fear overriding every other emotion. “He might not look like a child at first glance.”

“He has a GPS tracker in his shoe,” Reese said. “It’s coming from a silver sedan parked out front.”