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“Yeah. We should leave within the next fifteen minutes. But you don’t have to come if you’d rather stay here and work on… whatever you were doing.”
She’d kept her voice cool. Even. She didn’t want to make a scene. Make Brody uncomfortable. She’d done that already, and it had accomplished nothing.
“No,” he said. “I want to go with you. Let me get my keys.”
He hurried through the kitchen and into the mudroom, returning a few seconds later with his keys jangling in his hand. “Ready to go?”
“I’m set,” she said.
When they reached the truck, Lainey opened the door and began to climb in, then noticed the neat coil of rope on the seat. “Sorry,” he said from behind her. He grabbed it and stuffed it behind her seat. “I got that in town and forgot to put it away yesterday.” He set his hand on the seat, and she turned to look at him.
“I was in too much of a hurry to find you,” he said quietly. He cupped her elbow and helped her climb in, then closed the door once she was settled. Then Brody walked around the truck and swung into his own seat. As the truck rumbled down the driveway, Lainey stared at her lap, thinking of Brody yesterday, so anxious to see her that he’d forgotten his rope. She bit her lip, determined not to cry.
As they approached the compound, Brody swore beneath his breath, then pulled over to the side of the road. “There’s someone here,” he said, nodding at the silver SUV on the shoulder.
Lainey stared at it. Swallowed. “Larsen?”
“That’s not his truck,” Brody said.
“There’s a sticker on the window.” Lainey craned her neck, trying to get a better look at it. “Looks like a rental. Maybe Larsen rented another vehicle and stashed his somewhere out of sight.” Her gaze roamed over the compound, but she didn’t see a thing. “Like in the compound.”
“That’s possible,” Brody said slowly. “I’m going to take a look. You lock the doors behind me and stay in the truck.”
“Maybe you should call the sheriff instead,” she said. “Let him take a look.”
“I’m not going far. Just going to step inside the gate and look over the grounds. See if I see any sign of Larsen.” He glanced at her, pinning her to the seat with serious eyes. “Promise you’ll stay in the truck with the doors locked.”
“I promise,” she said. “You couldn’t pay me enough to explore that compound right now.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Lainey…” he began.
She shook her head. “Go. Take a look, then come right back. I want to get Phoebe and get back to the ranch.”
He flinched a little, as if he hated hearing her describe it as ‘the ranch’ instead of ‘home’. Then he nodded and slid out of the truck. Slammed the door. Waited until she’d locked it, then strode toward the gate.
Lainey watched him until he disappeared around a building, then studied the surrounding area, not sure what she was looking for. Edgy and nervous, she turned toward the compound, wondering what Brody was doing. What was taking him so long? The minutes dragged past unbearably slowly.
She was just about to climb out of the truck to find him when a movement from the hillside across from the compound caught her eye. A man burst out of the undergrowth and rushed toward the truck.
She couldn’t see his features as he crossed the road, but when he ran in front of the truck, she got a good look at him.
Art Larsen.
Holding a shotgun. He lifted it and pointed it at her window, his hands rock steady. “Get out of the truck. Now.”
