The message ended and he hadn't caught any of the actual words.
He cranked up the volume and replayed the message.
"I told you before, I just don't feel that way about you."Her voice.
There was more that Cord couldn't make out. Then, his voice:"You'll see. Once we get back home, you'll see."
Home. Austin?
Cord's hands shook as he dialed the sheriff's office. He relayed the message he'd heard and spent too long figuring out how to forward them the voicemail from his phone. All the deputies on duty were already out, tending to people who'd gotten in car accidents thanks to the ice, including one with major injuries. There was no one who could scour the roads immediately, though the dispatcher promised to send help as soon as she could.
Cord hung up, feeling desperate.Soonwasn't going to be enough. Molly was already in Toby's clutches.
If they were headed toward Austin, they would've taken the southbound branch of the state highway. He turned his truck that direction.
The slow pace made him frantic. When he sped up too much, the truck's tires lost traction and he slid.
But Toby had at least three hours head start. He could be anywhere.
And Molly...
Was she hurt? Frightened? No doubt she was living her own personal nightmare.
He needed to find her.
He left the town limits behind, moving at a snail's pace on the two-lane state road. Another hour passed, and his hope was dying with each breath. The roads were deserted, the sky gray.
He was approaching a concrete-and-steel overpass when he caught sight of her truck off the side of the road, crumpled into the concrete barrier. The front of the truck was obliterated, smashed into the concrete.
No. No no no.
He parked farther back than he wanted to, afraid to slip on the ice and send his truck crashing into Molly’s.
His boots hit the ground, and he tried to run, but the shoulder was a sheet of ice and he couldn't get traction.
As he jogged in what felt like slow motion, he saw the entire passenger side of her truck was crumpled into nothing against the concrete barrier.
"Molly!" he shouted.
Nothing was moving, and the eerie stillness terrified him.
There was no other traffic, no one for him to flag down for help. He fumbled for his phone even as he was moving toward the crumpled truck. He dialed 911, yelled his location to the dispatcher in those few frantic moments, fearing they’d need an airlift, if she was still alive.
He went around the back of the truck, because there was no way he could've pried open the twisted metal that was the passenger door.
On the driver's side, the door had been flung open. The driver seat's was empty. He braced himself, forced himself to look inside the cab.
It wasn't Molly's body crushed in the mangled steel.
Relief made his legs week, and he sagged against the door.
The man who must be Toby was almost unrecognizable. And unresponsive. Cord didn't spare a single second to try and get a pulse.
Where was Molly?
He scanned the roadside, registering for the first time a trail of blood, as if she’d dragged herself away from the crash site.
A dark bundle was half-hidden behind the far side of a concrete barrier. Almost out of sight, which was why he hadn't seen her at first glance.
