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“Agreed.” Adriel started the motor and rolled away from the blockade. “We’re not just gonna sit on our hands.” He rang Deputy Marco Perez. “Where are you and Paco?”
“On our way again. Just got released from a roadblock.”
“Sounds familiar,” Adriel growled.
They reached the Paddock’s garage. Or what was left of it. Pushing open their doors, they stood and stared at the pile of rubble standing behind the taped off perimeter.
Lord, show me the way.Shep was determined to find Prim if he had to comb every inch of the rez himself.
His phone buzzed with an incoming call. He scanned the caller ID and didn’t recognize it. Accepting the call anyway, he raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Please assure me I’m speaking to Deputy Shep Whitaker,” a woman said crisply.
“You are. Who’s asking?”
“Summer Midraven. I believe you know my daughter.”
He made a choking sound, gripping the phone tighter. “I’m a friend, ma’am.”
“So I’ve heard.” Her voice changed. “I was just notified by the authorities that she’s missing. Do you know where she might be?”
He described the young punk who’d taken her and texted her a photo of him. It wasn’t the greatest photo, but it was all he had.
“I’ll have his rat face on every major news network in the area within the hour,” she promised.
Adriel gave a low whistle. “Connections,” he muttered.
Shep wasn’t convinced that the news networks were going to prove to be much help in Prim’s case.
“No offense, ma’am, but if you really want to help your daughter?—”
“Of course, I want to help my daughter!” Her voice rang out shrilly. “I’ll be on the next flight.”
“Good. Then you can join the manhunt. Call me when you get here. We’ll be combing every inch of these hills until we find her.”
“I’ll call the moment my plane lands,” she promised and hung up.
Her talk of going to the press had given Shep an idea. He shared it with Adriel, and they spent the next few minutes calling everyone he knew who might be able to widen their manhunt. On the Heart Lake side of things, Shep contacted Sheriff Gil Remington, acting Sheriff Luke Hawling, Mayor Heavenly Hawling, the co-owners of Lonestar Security, and his Uncle Caleb. On the rez side of things, Adriel reached out to Chief Lighthorse, several key tribal council members, and a few business owners.
By the time they finished, Marco and Paco had finally caught up with them. Despite Marco’s status as a former federal agent, the agents standing inside the closed-off perimeter refused to let them through.
On their way back to their police cruisers, Shep overheard a couple of agents grumbling about the growing crowd of cars at the entrance gate.
Knowing Uncle Caleb was in the line of cars, Shep rang him. His uncle was happy to inform him that people were getting out of their cars and walking past the unmanned checkpoint — too many for a few dozen federal agents to stop. A flood of humanity armed with ropes, flashlights, megaphones, walkie talkies, cell phones, and medical supplies descended on the rez.
For the first time since Prim had gone missing, Shep’s heart buoyed with hope.
Help had arrived.
“We should join them,” he urged, whistling for his dogs to stand.
Adriel nodded and gave them the signal to move. They spread out and trudged across the hills and forests surrounding the roped off area. Word soon reached them about a sports car located on the side of the road in a ravine.
“It’s Mato’s,” one man shouted.
Pictures of car accidents danced through Shep’s head. When he and Adriel arrived in the ravine, however, they found a custom blue sports car in nearly perfect condition, well, except for a single bullet hole in the back. The tire marks on the embankment weren’t skid marks, though. It appeared that Mato had deliberately driven off the road.
Rook and Bishop picked up Prim’s scent in the passenger seat.
