CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

F ollowing Forbes, Brooklynn unlocked her phone and found the number Jon had sent. Whoever had answered her call to the FBI earlier had ended it. Maybe they'd been able to track the call. Maybe they’d sent help, but she couldn’t count on it.

“What are you doing?” Forbes whispered.

“Calling in the cavalry.”

“What? How?”

She stopped and tapped a text to the state police detective they’d spoken to earlier.

We were ambushed leaving the house. Taking cover in the woods. Send help.

“We need to move.”

“One second.” She watched the screen, but the message hadn’t sent yet. Were they too deep in the ground?

Lord, send it. You are bigger than cellphone networks.

Seconds passed. Forbes’s impatience was palpable, but she needed to be sure the text was sent. Who knew what they’d find at the cove? They needed help.

Finally, the text was delivered. But it went unread for seconds.

Brooklynn wanted to call, to be sure, but even the low sound of a ringing phone or the woman’s answer might be too loud in the rocky corridor.

Forbes sucked in a breath, looking beyond her as if threats were moving in.

She’d done all she could. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and followed Forbes deeper into the darkness.

The path sloped downward, and she moved carefully, using the cave walls to support her when she needed to put weight on her ankle.

Even so, every step with her injured leg sent pain. She gritted her teeth and kept moving. Toward the rocky headland and the beach and the surf and…

“Wait. Stop.” Her whisper was vehement.

Forbes twisted. “Are you hurt?”

“No, but… When I was talking to Leo, there was a noise in the background.”

“An engine. I assumed he was driving.”

“But it was rhythmic. I didn’t process it at the time, but I think it was…”

“The surf?”

“He was already here,” she guessed. “At the cove.”

Forbes turned back and peered at the path they’d just traversed, then ahead. “Okay. Maybe. Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”

“No.” She grabbed his wrist. “We need to stay together.”

“We need to know if it’s safe to go on or if we should go back.”

“Back? We can’t go back.”

“We can’t stay here for the rest of our lives. We need to get out, one way or the other.”

“We can wait until Putnam moves in.” She would, wouldn’t she?

Except the last time Brooklynn had tried to summon help—had it just been a few hours before?—nobody had come to her rescue.

Nathan hadn’t been trustworthy.

Maybe Putnam couldn’t be trusted, either.

No. She refused to consider that. There were untrustworthy people in the world, but Forbes wasn’t one of them. And neither was Grant. If Grant said Jon was trustworthy, and Jon said Putnam was trustworthy, then Brooklynn would believe them.

“She’s going to send help.”

“I can manage…” But his words faded. He huffed a breath and blew it out. “No, you’re right. We need help. But we can help them too.”

“Meaning?”

“If there are men on the beach, Putnam needs to know. I promise, I won’t be seen. I’ll just listen, learn what I can, and be right back. I’ll be safe.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, adding, “I promise.”

He disappeared into the darkness.