He stopped and tested one of the panels, giving it a firm pull. It didn’t move.
Good.
Sarah had spared no expense when she had this installed.
A smile wanted to emerge on his lips at the thought of his sister, but it didn’t. Sarah had loved decorating, and this property had been her dream.
A dream that had ended horribly.
The reality of her situation stabbed at his heart, as it always did when he remembered what his sister had been through.
A few steps later, Hamilton halted. His ears angled forward, body stiffening a fraction.
Caleb followed the dog’s gaze into the woods.
Trees crowded the slope as the ground curved near a small stream. Branches still threaded with colorful autumn leaves filled the space. It was too dark outside to see the brilliant hues, but he knew they were there. Beyond the fence, the ground sharply dipped away, rocks half-buried beneath damp leaf litter.
In the fall, the woods easily lied. Leaves shifted with the slightest hint of a breeze. Sound scattered instead of carried, making it hard to tell if something other than nature made the leaves crunch—and if so, how close it really was.
Caleb waited, staring through the trees.
Wind slid through the branches on the other side of the stream, higher up the ridge, a dry whisper. The water trickled. A squirrel scampered.
Nothing moved, but Hamilton didn’t relax. Neither did Caleb.
“What is it, boy?” Caleb asked, his voice low.
Hamilton’s nose lifted. He took a slow step forward, then another.
Caleb grabbed the flashlight at his belt.
The beam cut across the trees, pale light skimming trunks and rocks. Shadows stretched and shifted.
He swept the ground first, then angled higher.
That was when he saw it.
A nearby branch bent at an odd angle, hanging lower than the rest.
Not fallen. Broken—and fresh enough that the leaves hadn’t wilted yet.
Caleb used his key to unlock the back gate. He and Hamilton slipped through and walked to the spot. He crouched there, fingers brushing the split. The inside of the wood was pale, not yet darkened by cold or moisture.
Someone—or something—had pushed through recently.
Hamilton let out a low sound, not quite a growl. His stance widened, weight settling as he braced himself.
Caleb slowly straightened and surveyed the dark woods.
He saw nothing, no one.
But the shadows offered too many places to hide.
He stepped past the broken branch and scanned the ground for prints. He only saw scuffed leaves and a small, disturbed patch of dried grass near the fence.
Caleb backed away, every sense tuned sharp.
The branch could have been broken by a deer. Or a stray dog. Something ordinary.
