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Three weeks to find Kyle and drag him home, to make sure he stayed long enough for the judge to see that Netta was better off with him than with Harley. Or, at the very least, to have him temporarily sign over his parental rights.

Except it’d been eight days since she’d arrived, and she wasn’t any closer to finding him.

Assuring her mom that she would have Kyle home by then, she handed the phone back to Oliver. “The trial date—”

“I know.”

“Oliver, I have to find him.”

There went his scarred eyebrow. “In three weeks? He’s been missing for months.”

“Then it’s as good a time as any to bring him home. I’m taking your car.”

She could figure out how to drive on the wrong side of the road. If worst came to worst, she’d write herself a little Post-it or something. Keep left.

Then his earlier words reached her. She stared at him. “Wait… You know? You’ve known about this?” The anger burned like wildfire. He fucking knew. He fucking knew she was three weeks away from losing Netta, and he hadn’t helped. “How long have you known?”

“A week.”

That didn’t sound right at first. He couldn’t have known, couldn’t have kept it from her all this time—not while seeing how desperate she was to keep Netta safe. He’d watched her search his house, had seen her desperation rise with every passing day, and he’d never said a word. He’d let an entire week tick by—seven days that could mean everything to Netta’s safety, wasted.

“You asshole.” Her voice came out quieter than she’d intended. The shock of it must have messed with her vocal cords. She tried again. “You put my niece’s life in danger.”

“There was nothing either one of us could do.”

She almost laughed. Nothing? Like she hadn’t resigned herself to staying in this cave with him, hoping it would lead somewhere. She could have been out there, searching. Following the useless private investigator around—he’d been exorbitant and so far not worth a dime. Hell, hiring a replacement. Doing something—anything—that actually mattered.

“Fuck you.” Finally. The volume she’d been looking for. “We could have tried harder to find Kyle instead of lazing around here. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The jackass. She’d been an idiot to think staying here with him would move the needle. Oliver would never share even a scrap of information with her. A child’s life meant nothing to him. She’d drive to Dublin and meet up with Roman and Mandy. Three brains were better than one.

First, she’d pack. And then go out there… in the rain…

Her heart knocked against her healed ribs. She hadn’t driven at night in the rain in years—an impressive feat for a Pacific Northwesterner. She hated the dark, and she hated the rain, and together they dragged her back to that mountainside.

The last few nights, when the rain had gotten stronger, she’d stayed up eating cookies until it passed.

Driving in it now wouldn’t be easy, but she’d do it for Netta. Besides, the sun set late here in the summers. “Where are the car keys?”

His fingers curled around the back of the closest chair. “And where are you planning to go?”

“Dublin, to start. Tell me what you know about my brother’s whereabouts.”

But he stayed silent.

Wow. Even with Netta on the line, he hoarded information. That told her everything she needed to know about him. The man had the right to hate Kyle, but she refused to let Netta be collateral damage.

What kind of car did he drive anyway? Did it even start? Was the tank full?

She had to see for herself.

Striding into the dark hallway, she headed for the front door that would lead her to the car.

He followed right behind her. “You’re not seriously going to drive in this weather.”

“It’ll clear up.” Though she didn’t believe that herself. “I’m going to look for his so-called wife.”

“What if his wife isn’t in Dublin?”