Page 26 of Vanishing Point (Bent County Protectors #1)

In the end, they split the three addresses between them.

Cash took Rosalie and a dog to the one closest to Sunrise and one of Jack’s deputies was going to meet them for a police presence.

The online listing Rosalie had found showed that the sale was really more for the property rather than any of the buildings, though there was a barn still in good shape.

Thomas and another Hudson brother, Palmer, went to the address sort of in the middle of the other two. The thought being if the dogs on either end found something, Thomas could get to either of the other properties quickly and involve Bent County if necessary.

The property he was driving to had included a house and pictures in the listing. A little small, a lot old. Definitely not something someone would buy if they were looking to move into it in the near future.

All three listings gave Thomas hope they were on the right track. Why was the postal inspector looking at land for sale with no houses, no signs of life, if she wasn’t looking for a place to hide? And if she’d found one, now Thomas would find her.

And Vi. Please God, let me find Vi.

Thomas drove his patrol car down the street with Palmer in the passenger seat.

They’d brought a dog with them too, sitting happily in the back, but it wasn’t trained for scent-specific tracking.

Cash had explained the difference, but Thomas hadn’t been paying much attention at that point.

He’d been looking at the property listings.

In the end, he got the gist. The two with Cash and Carlyle could track Vi’s specific scent. This one could only alert him to human presence, not Vi specifically.

The scent-specific dogs would search for Vi thanks to a scrunchie Rosalie had in her purse that Vi had last used, and Thomas’s bag because it had been in the same house Vi had last been at.

The dog in his back seat was more search and rescue, on the scent for any body. Cash had warned that hits with any of the dogs were a pretty big reach considering the sheer area they had to case, but he’d also seen no reason not to try.

And with the addresses narrowing things down, Thomas hoped there was more of a chance.

“Right there,” Palmer said, pointing at an entrance off the highway Thomas probably would have missed. It was covered in over brush, but they could see a green sign with the property number amid the brush. And it wasn’t totally overgrown. Someone had driven through here recently.

Probably in an attempt to sell the place, take the pictures on the listing, etc. The photographer had certainly avoided certain parts of the property. Like the overgrown entrance, the barely-there gravel on the gravel road that would lead to the house.

He followed the road at a slower pace, watching the world around them. Mountains in the distance, and overgrown, poorly kept ranch land around them. Thomas kept an eye open for any thing that pointed to people .

But it was all so damn abandoned. He thought something in the distance was maybe the house, but in the end, it had just been a pile of trash.

A rusted-out car, old appliances, rusty ranch equipment that had no doubt been left to the elements at least a decade ago, if all the overgrowth obscuring half the trash was anything to go by.

And still the gravel road went on, the house not coming into view until they’d been driving a good ten minutes.

It felt like the deadest of dead ends, but Thomas didn’t say that.

They had to check into every possibility.

That was why he was lucky to have so many people helping.

All over Bent County, people were working to find Vi.

He tried to have that be the central anchor of faith he held on to. Because he’d worked a lot of hopeless cases and found hope somewhere along the way. He’d done what felt impossible, time and time again, so why shouldn’t he believe the same was possible here ? When it mattered to him most.

He couldn’t give up hope on Vi.

He stopped his car in front of the house and got out. Palmer got out on his side, then let the dog out. He gave the dog whatever orders it needed, and the dog got to work.

Though the work looked a lot like running around.

Thomas moved for the house, hand on the butt of his gun in its holster on his hip. He did a quick perimeter check, then carefully walked up one of the porches. He tried to look in windows, but most were grimy or covered with curtains.

The knob had one of those Realtor lockboxes on it.

He could get the bolt cutters out of his trunk and take care of it.

Maybe he would, but… He looked out at the dog, who sniffed the porches, and different trees.

But everything seemed heavily deserted, and even the dog didn’t alert to any sign of human life.

Thomas went to the back door, jiggled the knob there, then listened with his ear on the door. But he heard a whole lot of nothing.

Palmer came to stand at the bottom of the stairs of the porch Thomas stood on. He gestured at the dog, bounding through the tall grass of the side yard.

“He’s not coming up with anything,” Palmer said. “Except squirrels. I can send him out into the woods, but…”

“Seems like a waste of time,” Thomas finished for him.

Palmer nodded. “If someone had been around here in the past few days, even if they hadn’t been in the house, the dog should come up with something.

” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I can have the dog trail the car back up to the highway, see if he sniffs anything along the road. I doubt he’ll come up with anything, but you’ll feel better if we cover every base. ”

Thomas blew out a breath. It was the death of any case. Focusing so much on tiny details you missed the big picture—or being so obsessed with the big picture, you missed the details. You had to find a middle ground, and Palmer’s idea was probably it.

“All right.”

Palmer called the dog, gave him some more orders as Thomas climbed in the driver’s seat.

“You don’t have to drive slow enough for him to keep up, just slow enough he can keep us in sight,” Palmer said as he took his seat. Thomas nodded and Palmer rolled down the window and Thomas drove.

Impatience bit at him. Hopefully the other two groups were having better luck, but what if they weren’t? They were reaching a second night of her being gone. Every minute was a chance something bad could happen to her, and he was driving around damn dead ends.

Not dead ends. Lead after tiny lead . But there was a war inside him. Between a detective who knew what to do, and a man desperate to save the woman he loved.

They were not compatible.

About halfway back up the road, Thomas’s phone started pinging, and he realized they’d been out of cell range. He steered with one hand, pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other. He had texts and voice messages coming in. He started with the messages. The first one was from Jack.

“We’ve got something,” Jack said. “We haven’t even let the dog out because there’s a run-down cabin with a car out front. The rental car.”

Thomas didn’t even bother to listen to the rest. He just tossed his phone down, slammed on the brakes.

“Get the dog,” he ordered Palmer, who was already halfway out the door. When Palmer got back in the car with the dog, Thomas put both hands on the wheel and hit the gas pedal. Hard.

V I’S KEEP-A-STIFF-UPPER-LIP MANTRA was slowly fading.

Because she was almost certain Dianne was dead.

Dead. Eric had just strangled her like she was nothing , and it left Vi feeling…

alone or less protected. Even though Dianne had been working against her, she’d been a hope.

She’d been a distraction to Eric. She’d been something .

Now it was just Vi and her ex-husband. Who’d just killed someone. Someone he thought he loved. Or had thought loved him. Vi didn’t even know anymore. She just knew she had to get out of here.

“I thought you were going to draw this out, not kill me,” Vi managed to say, but her voice shook. And Eric grinned. It made her want to throw up.

“I don’t think she’s dead.” He looked back at Dianne’s lifeless body. Shrugged. “Or she is. But you’re right. I’ve got plans for you before I kill you.” His eyes moved over her whole body, until death seemed a better alternative than what she had a horrible feeling he was thinking about.

He put his hand on his belt, laughed when she followed the move with her eyes, no doubt fear and terror evident on every last inch of her face.

“Oh, come on, Vi. You always liked it.”

Vi had to breathe through the terror, the utter panic. How would she fight him off? Kicking and fighting hadn’t worked for Dianne, and she’d had all her limbs free.

What was she going to—

The silence in the room was interrupted by something outside. A kind of… A dog was barking outside. Vi held her breath. Please. Please. Please.

“What the hell is that?” he muttered. “No one should be around here for miles.” He moved back into the kitchen, with absolutely no regard for Dianne’s body on the floor. He grabbed his gun, then disappeared into the hallway. Probably getting those bullets Dianne had mentioned were in the bedroom.

He returned, loading the gun as he walked. He didn’t even look at Vi. Just went to the front door and disappeared outside.

Vi wanted the dog barking to be some kind of sign, some kind of help …well, as long as Eric didn’t end up shooting the help. But she also knew it didn’t matter what happened out there. On the chance Eric came back and the dog barking meant nothing, she had to be free.

She got her tiny board from under her legs and positioned it under her knees again. She realized she was crying when the tears fell off her cheeks and landed with a plop on the wood.

She ignored it all and got to work. Pushing the plastic of the zip tie against the sharp tip of the nail over and over again, as many times as she could, making as many holes as she could.

Maybe he’d come in and catch her. She didn’t care. Dianne still hadn’t so much as moved or made a sound. God, she had to be dead.

It wasn’t going to be Vi. She wouldn’t let it be her. She wouldn’t let herself be a victim for one more second. She wouldn’t abandon her child. She wouldn’t lose a future with Thomas. A future for herself .

But the door flew open. Vi scrambled to hide her lone hope for escape.

“Someone let their damn dogs run loose,” Eric was grumbling. “Stupid country hicks.” He kicked the door shut with his leg. He marched back to the kitchen, without even looking at Vi, so she was able to keep subtly moving her board under her legs.

Eric leaned the gun in the corner, then reached down and grabbed Dianne’s lifeless body.

He dragged her body over the floor. She was nothing but limp limbs. Vi wanted to look away, but something kept her glued to the morbid sight.

He shoved the body against the door. A human block. “There. Let anyone get past that ,” he said, oh-so-pleased with himself.

But Vi could only stare at Dianne. Was she hallucinating or was there still the faint rise and fall of Dianne’s chest?

“Now you. You can’t be anywhere near these windows until I know for sure no one’s lurking around out there.”

Vi tried to think clearly as he came for her. This was better than what he’d been planning just a few minutes ago. She hoped.

He grabbed around the zip tie on her ankles and began to drag her. The plastic dug through her pants and into her skin. She tried to hold back the whimper and the sting of pain, the rough scrape of floor against her back, the bruised shoulder blade from yesterday.

But she did whimper, and he laughed and laughed all the way to a door in the kitchen. He opened it with another loud slam. Inside the dim closet was an array of shelves and some random kitchen items. A broom, a mousetrap, some canned goods. It was some kind of pantry.

He’d dragged her as far as he could from her feet, but she still wasn’t fully in the pantry.

So he started using the boot of his heel to push her body into the pantry.

Then he kicked her once, luckily on a more padded part of her leg so it didn’t hurt as much as he’d probably like.

But she got the hint. She pulled her leg in so that she was completely in the pantry.

“Sit tight. We’ll have fun later.” Then he slammed the door. The closet was completely and utterly dark. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t do anything to free her legs. The doorknob jiggled, so he must be doing something to lock her in here.

But she had put a lot of holes in the zip ties around her wrist. If she could find something in the closet to hook around the tie and then use her bodyweight to pull and put enough force on it, it might break where she’d weakened it.

And then her hands would be free. Which wasn’t much , but if Eric left that gun loaded, and in the kitchen, just a few steps from this pantry door…all she had to do was get out, grab the gun, shoot.

But none of it mattered unless she broke these zip ties, so she set out to do just that.