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Luke ached for Carrie.

He’d clasped his hands behind his head, pulled his elbows together in an effort to ease his torment, as he waited at Clay’s garage for an update out of Harris County.

We’re losing time.

Investigators continued processing and searching Clay’s property. Down the winding lane, more news crews had arrived. They sought an official briefing. Speculation was swirling online, and media helicopters thundered overhead—one landed at a clearing nearby, picking up a news team.

Against it all, Luke heard Mallory’s phone ring. The detective answered, keeping the phone pressed to his ear, a palm covering his other ear, nodding, asking a few quick questions. When he ended the call, he turned to Cobb, Ellerd, Vern and Luke.

“Nash delivered a Challenger in the Houston area. On the way back, he picked up a Barracuda and was hauling it to Clear River.”

“What about Carrie?” Luke asked.

“No other details yet.”

“Where in Houston?” Ellerd asked.

“They’re texting me the location.” Mallory’s phone chimed. “Got it! We have the address. Everyone’s moving on it now. Let’s go!”