Colt moved cautiously, sweeping his rifle across the tree line while Brenna stayed just behind him. The phone lay in a patch of trampled leaves, its screen dark, the casing smeared with what looked like blood.
He held up a hand to stop her from getting closer. “Wait. Could be wired.”
Brenna nodded, watching as he circled the area. He checked the underbrush, the branches, even the ground beneath the phone. Nothing. No wires. No traps. No sign of anyone nearby.
Satisfied, Colt stepped forward. “Clear.”
Brenna joined him, crouching beside the phone. She tapped Wallace’s number into her own and hit call. The ringtone buzzed beside them.
“This is his,” she said quietly.
Colt’s gaze swept the area again. “Then where the hell is he?”
Something caught his eye. A pale rectangle nailed to a tree about twenty feet away.
He walked to it, heart already pounding. A sheet of paper fluttered slightly in the breeze, one edge stained red. He read the words printed in thick, jagged font.
“Do exactly as you’re told, and you have a chance to stall true justice, you have a chance to save Wallace Kemp.”
----- ? ----
Chapter Six
----- ? ----
With her stomach twisting and the frustration roaring through her, Brenna stared at the note Colt had just read aloud.
“Damn it,” she muttered, fingers tightening around her phone. “This bastard’s playing with us.”
Colt stepped back from the tree, scanning the woods again. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp, but there was nothing. No sign of Wallace. No trail to follow. Just the eerie silence of the forest and the echo of the threat pinned to the bark.
“There are no instructions,” she said, voice low with frustration. “Nothing about what we’re supposed to do to try to save him.”
Colt gave a small shake of his head. “She wants us waiting. Nervous. He’s pulling the strings.”
Well, it was working. Her nerves were soaring, and that wasn’t a good thing. She needed to be on her A-game for this. Hopefully, she remembered how A-games worked.
They turned and started back toward the clearing where Harlan was waiting with Gary. Every step made her feel more wound up, more on edge. She hated this, being behind the curve, always reacting instead of getting ahead.
Her phone buzzed, silencing her racing mind, and she stopped, looking down at the unknown number. And the text she’d just gotten.
One line.
Crossfire Creek Bridge.
Brenna turned the phone toward Colt, her voice tight. “He sent the next location. Crossfire Creek Bridge.”
Colt’s expression darkened. “Then we move. Now.”
They broke into a flat-out run, cutting through the trees, and spotted Harlan and Gary waiting near the edge of the clearing. Colt didn’t slow down.
“Let’s go,” Colt called. “We’ve got a lead.”
Gary straightened. “What kind of lead? What’s going on?”
“Shut up,” Harlan snapped, grabbing his arm and pushing him forward. “You’ll find out when we get there.”
Gary scowled but didn’t fight it. They all moved fast through the brush, cutting back toward the SUV parked off the road.
