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How could she just leave him up in that cave? Had he been hurt when that lunatic shot at him?
She glanced over her shoulder. She wasn’t alone.
Weaving around trees, zigzagging as much as possible, Chloe hoped to keep from being an easy target.
But she had no idea where she was going. Was she running right into a trap? Would a rock face tower over her? Would a bear trap snap around her ankle? Or worse, what if the mountain she ran on just stopped, and she plummeted a thousand feet to her death?
What if Josh died?
That was worst of all.
Why had she been so stupid over the last seven years? Could they have been something before now? Happily married with kids?
She’d never know. Would she?
She ran. And ran.
Only the sound of her feet hitting the ground echoed in her ears.
No one was behind her now. Where had he gone? She searched the woods behind her but saw nothing.
She slowed her pace.
But it was too late.
Ahead of her, the ground sloped severely. She stopped moving her feet, but her body continued forward and over the edge.
Her feet flew out from under her. She hit the ground and slid down. Down. And down.
Saplings and sticks smacked her in the face and scratched her legs. She grappled for anything to stop—even just slow—her descent, but it was futile. She was falling, sliding, plummeting to a forest floor even lower than where she’d been. Farther and farther from Josh.
Chapter Nineteen
Gabe,Buck,Aliza,Amelia,and Poirot walked into the sheriff’s office outside a little town up in the mountains near the North Carolina border.
The young deputy at the desk dropped his feet to the floor. “Whoa. What’s with the dog?”
All four of them flashed their badges. Gabe spoke. “We’re investigating a missing persons case that has led up to your jurisdiction, and we’d like your cooperation and assistance. Poirot, here, is one of the missing persons’ search and rescue K-9, so if anyone is going to find them, it’s him.”
“Poirot? Like the Agatha Christie detective?”
Gabe ignored the question. “We were wondering what you could tell us about the Bortsov family. Any run-ins with them?”
“Nah, they’re good people. Shame what happened to Peter.”
An older gentleman, the sheriff, poked his head out of an office. “Tristan. We’ve got a missing persons case.”
“I know, the Knoxville cops are here.”
The sheriff came fully into the room. “What do they have to do with a missing person up in these parts?”
Gabe said, “My sister and her friend are missing, and we believe they were kidnapped by a local up here.”
“Well, that has nothing to do with our case. I’m sorry, folks, but we have our own issues to deal with today.”
The door opened behind Gabe, and a behemoth of a man entered. “Y’all gotta help me find her.”
The sheriff extended his hand. “We will, Elliot.”
