My boots pound dirt.
My pulse is steady.
My mind is not.
I cross the fence line at a gap and spot the corn dog cart parked crooked, abandoned like someone dropped it and ran. A teen employee stands there, shaking, staring at the ground like it betrayed him.
“Where is she?” I roar.
The kid points, eyes wide. “They— they went that way?—”
I don’t wait.
I follow the line of disturbance like it’s a neon sign.
Grass flattened. Dirt scuffed. A clear skid where boots dragged. Something shiny in the sunlight?—
Her walkie.
My throat closes.
I grab it, thumb the button. “Laney—Laney, respond.”
Static.
No voice.
No laugh.
No sharp “I’m fine, stop being dramatic.”
Nothing.
My vision narrows to a ruthless tunnel.
I scan again. Tire tracks cut across the pasture near the tree line. Fresh. Deep. The kind you make when you’re in a hurry and you don’t care who notices. The tracks angle toward the service road. The same goddamn service road that truck used the other night.
I drop to a knee and run my fingers through the dirt. Still loose. Still warm from recent compression.
Minutes.
We’re talking minutes.
I stand so fast the world tilts for half a second.
I call Gray back.
He answers immediately. “Report.”
“She’s gone,” I say. The words taste like metal. “Confirm abduction. I’ve got fresh scuffle marks and tire tracks heading to the back service road. I need a team. Now.”
Gray doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t need answers to. “Any ID on the suspect?”
I glance toward the teen by the cart and motion him over with two fingers.
“Describe him,” I demand.
The kid swallows hard. “Nice shirt. Like… pressed. Fancy boots. Expensive hat. Smelled like cologne. He was— he was real calm when he threatened me. Like he didn’t care.”
