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Noelle woke in the dark, not sure what had disturbed her sleep. She abruptly sat up straight, realizing she wasn’t in her bed.

I’m in Lori’s house.

Noelle had gone home with the detective in the early hours, when she could no longer keep her eyes open at the sheriff’s department. She swung her legs out of the bed, took a few breaths to get her heart to slow, and then grabbed her phone to check for texts.

There were none.

No news is good news?

She started to search for the hospital phone number to call about Savannah and realized the staff wouldn’t share medical information with her. The detective assigned to the case would be the only person outside Savannah’s family to get updates. She shot Bolton a text, asking for one.

While waiting for a reply, she got dressed and went downstairs, smelling coffee. The kitchen was empty, but Lori had left a note saying she’d gone to work. It was nearly 7:00 a.m.

Lori never works this early.

Something happened.

She fired off a text to Lori and a second one to Bolton, demanding answers. She quickly scanned local headlines online, looking for any mention of Adam Langton. Nothing. She glared at her unanswered texts.

They’re avoiding me.

I’m not assigned to the case.

“Dammit.” She called dispatch and identified herself, asking for the locations of Detectives Bolton and Shults.

The dispatcher informed Noelle of the discovery of her vehicle and the recent 911 call about an intruder with a gun in the same area.

She thanked him, hung up, and raced to grab her bag and coat. Then slammed to a halt.

I don’t have a vehicle.

I’m stuck.

Her mind searched for solutions. It was too early to rent a car. She didn’t want to take an Uber to a crime scene. Who would loan her a vehicle?

That 911 call has to be about Adam.

Is Lucia okay?

I can’t just sit here.

Her gaze fell on the door to Lori’s garage. She yanked it open and hit the light switch. Parked inside was a shiny new Ford Bronco. Her heart lifted.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

She knew Lori had waited months for the custom vehicle; the detective had talked about it dozens of times, totally infatuated with the SUV. Noelle turned back to the kitchen and started pulling open drawers. She found a remote for the Bronco in the second one.

“Sorry, Lori,” she whispered. “I’ll take good care of it.” She grabbed her things and pressed the garage door opener. She opened the Bronco and slid into the driver’s seat as the early-morning light filled the garage. She hit the start button and a pattern of happy musical notes sounded.

They won’t be pleased to see me.

But nothing would keep her away.