“This is close enough,” Colt said, pulling off the road and cutting the engine. The location where Wallace’s phone had pinged was still about fifty yards in, hidden by trees and uneven terrain. “We go the rest of the way on foot.”
They stepped out, weapons drawn, eyes sweeping the woods. It was quiet. Too quiet. Colt signaled to stay low as they began their approach, moving carefully between shadows and fallen limbs. Every rustle of leaves had him ready to fire.
Halfway up the slope, something shifted ahead. A figure stepped out from behind a thick tree.
“Hold it right there,” Colt ordered, weapon up and locked on target. His voice cut clean through the stillness.
The man stepped out from the trees, hands raised, palms open.
“It’s me,” he said. “Gary. Gary Ward.”
Colt cursed under his breath. The face was unmistakable. Gary looked harder than he had three years ago, thinner too, with dark stubble across his jaw and shadows under his eyes. His jacket was dusty, his boots caked with dried mud.
And he was armed.
He was holding a gun, not pointed at them. He was holding it barrel down toward the ground. Brenna kept her eyes on that gun. On his hand. In case Gary made any move to try to shoot them.
“Do you have Wallace Kemp?” Colt demanded, attention locked on the man.
Gary’s brows furrowed. “You mean Jennifer Kemp’s brother?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. “No, I don’t have him. Why the hell would I?”
Harlan moved to Colt’s side, still covering him.
“Then why are you here?” Colt demanded.
Gary slowly reached into his pocket. “I got a text. No name. Just a message with coordinates and a line that said if I wanted to know the truth about Timberline, I had to come here. Alone.” He held out his phone for them to see.
Colt took it, read the message, and felt a familiar chill run down his spine. The wording was similar to the one Naomi Darnell had gotten.
Someone was playing a dangerous game. And Gary Ward had just stepped into the center of it. Or maybe Gary was the one controlling the whole damn thing.
That was the reason Colt kept his gun trained on the man.
Colt glanced at Harlan, and even though they didn’t speak, they seemed to be on the same page.
Colt gave Harlan a quick nod. They had done this dance too many times not to know what needed to happen next.
“I’ll stay here with Gary,” Harlan said, stepping closer to the man, rifle angled low but ready. “We can have a little chat while you two go find Wallace.”
Gary started to protest. “I told you, I don’t know where he is. I came because—”
“Shut up,” Harlan snapped. “You’re not helping.”
Colt was already moving. “Come on,” he said to Brenna.
They pushed deeper into the woods, the dense tangle of cedar and oak closing in around them. Fallen branches snapped under their boots. The smell of damp earth and decaying leaves hung thick in the air. Colt kept his rifle ready, his eyes scanning the terrain.
The GPS on Brenna’s phone said they were getting close.
He glanced at her and caught the same urgency etched across her face that pulsed through his blood. Every second could count. Wallace might already be dead, but if there was even a sliver of hope, they had to move fast.
There were too many damn trees. Too many blind spots. Too many places someone could hide. Colt didn’t like it. The silence crawled along his skin. Birds weren’t even chirping. The only sound was their breathing and the crunch of dried leaves underfoot.
If Gary was part of this, Harlan would handle it. Colt didn’t know yet what role Gary played, but one thing was clear. Gary had either orchestrated this or else he’d been pulled into something dark and calculated. He’d need to find out which once they were done here.
Colt lifted a hand to slow Brenna as they reached a slight rise. Below them, the ground dipped into a shallow ravine.
And something glinted at the base.
