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ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE

GNAT’S LANDING

Cord had a bad feeling in his gut as he battled the storm to reach Huller’s house. He’d tried to call Ellie and Fox on the way but neither one of them was answering.

Not a good sign.

As soon as he spotted the house, he saw Ellie’s Jeep parked to the side. No one was in it.

They must be inside the house.

Aware they were tracking a sinister killer, he surveyed the house before he climbed out. Lights off. Except for the rain slashing the house and his truck, everything seemed quiet.

Raincoat and hood on, he slogged through the storm to the house. He paused at the doorway and called Ellie’s name, then Fox’s. No answer.

His gut tightened into a knot.

“El,” he shouted as he went inside. “Fox, are you here?”

They had to be. Ellie’s Jeep was outside.

Pulse hammering, he moved through the rooms quickly, gaze taking in the faded furnishings, checking the closets as he went. Den empty. Kitchen empty. Bathroom empty. Bedroom and closet empty.

Then the office. He noted the scattered papers and pictures of the girls, his anxiety mounting.

Huller was definitely their killer.

But where was he now?

Knowing how Fox’s mind worked, he imagined he’d gone to search outside. If Ellie had finished in here, she might have joined him.

He rushed outside, using his flashlight to help see through the fog although that created a glare. The rain was coming down so hard he could barely make out the trees.

He eased his way around the side of the house, senses alert for an ambush, his flashlight panning the house and yard. A minute later, he spotted the mangled brush and weeds and saw two jean-clad legs sticking out from the crawlspace. A man’s.

A curse spewed from him. He rushed over, stooped down then spotted Fox’s credentials in the grass.

Knowing he shouldn’t move him, he lay on his belly, inched closer, enough to check for a pulse.

Seconds ticked by as he held his breath. One minute. Two. A third. He finally felt it, low and thready. Fox was alive.

He quickly called 9-1-1 and requested an ambulance and the sheriff, relaying the address and Fox’s condition to the operator.

While he waited, he ran to his truck, grabbed a tarp and hurried back then covered Fox’s body to protect him as much as he could from the elements. With the heavy clouds, the temperature was dropping fast.

His gut churned as he stared at the woods. Had the bastard taken Ellie?

Terrified, he called his SAR team and requested help. Miles agreed to dispatch his team right away.

As the rain began to slack off, Cord combed the backyard for Ellie, repeatedly calling her name. A few feet from where Fox lay, the ground looked disturbed as if there’d been a fight.

There was blood on a rock.

If Huller had attacked Ellie, she’d fought back. Was that her blood or his?

Careful not to disturb the scene, he followed the blood to a spot near the edge of the woods with a tree cover where he found more tire prints and footprints.

A man’s.

Tire tracks were visible in the mud, tracks that led along the edge of the woods to the road. The tire tracks appeared to be from a van.

The one they were looking for. Although the ground was damp, he spotted more blood on a small boulder under the cover of a tree.

Fear choked his throat. Huller had Ellie. Was she alive?