Colt took the driver’s seat, Brenna slid into shotgun, and Harlan shoved Gary into the back seat before climbing in behind him. Colt started the engine and turned them back toward Crossfire Creek, tires crunching over gravel.
“Gary is disarmed,” Harlan let them know. “His two guns are in my pockets. And he’s mad as hell about it.”
“You bet your ass I’m pissed. I’m on your side,” Gary snarled. “I came here because I thought someone wanted to help us figure this out.”
“Maybe,” Brenna said quietly, keeping her eyes forward.
But that was something she’d have to do some thinking, and investigating, about later. For now, they had to get back to Crossfire Creek.
“We found Wallace’s phone,” Brenna said, turning in the seat to look at Harlan. “Blood on it. No sign of him. Just a note nailed to a tree telling us we might be able to save him if we follow instructions. Then this text came in, directing us to theCrossfire Creek Bridge.” She showed him the message on her phone.
“Could be a setup or a trap,” Harlan muttered, reading the text for himself. “But we have to follow it.”
Colt nodded, eyes locked on the road ahead. “Wallace could be running out of time.”
The SUV hummed along the narrow two-lane road, the low hills of the Texas Hill Country rolling past them in muted golds and greens. Morning sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the windshield. The weight of silence filled the vehicle until Harlan pulled out his phone and made the call to Noah.
Brenna couldn’t hear what Noah was saying on the other end, but Harlan’s half of the conversation was crisp.
“Yeah. Brenna and Colt found the phone and the note. Still in place? Hang on.” Harlan turned toward her. “You didn’t move anything, right?”
She shook her head. “No. I figured tampering with it could destroy evidence. We left it all untouched.”
Harlan relayed that to Noah with a short nod. “Yeah. They left it clean. Blood on the phone. The note was nailed to a tree.” A pause, then, “Got it.”
When the call ended, he tucked his phone away. “Noah’s sending a cop he trusts to collect the evidence. Should be there soon.”
From the backseat, Gary leaned forward, eyes sharp. “Will someone finally tell me what’s going on?”
Brenna twisted in her seat to face him. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. You got a text, the same as an investigative reporter did. Similar phrasing, similar threat. The only difference is yours included directions to that exact spot. Why you?”
“I told you, I don’t know,” Gary insisted. “Maybe because I was part of the Timberline op.”
“Have you been digging into Timberline lately?” she pressed. “Talking to anyone who might have ties to this? Shared theories? Told someone you’re looking for answers?”
Gary hesitated, jaw tight. “I’ve talked to a few people over the past year. Guys I used to work with. A couple of the victims’ relatives reached out. Some of them still have questions.”
Brenna narrowed her eyes. “And what did you say to them?”
“I said I had questions too,” Gary admitted. “I never stopped thinking about that mission. About what went wrong. But I never threatened anyone. I sure as hell didn’t send those messages.”
Brenna turned back around, unease prickling at the back of her neck. She wasn’t sure if he was lying or telling the truth. But someone out there had roped him into this, and that meant they were dealing with a game that was far from over.
Colt kept the SUV’s speed steady but fast. The tires hummed over the asphalt, blurring the edges of the winding two-lane road that curved toward Crossfire Creek. Since she’d never been to the bridge, Brenna pulled up satellite images of it as they drove.
“It’s on a narrow country road,” she said, scanning the terrain. “Trees on both sides. Thick brush. Way too many places for someone to lie in wait.”
Colt didn’t glance over, just gave a clipped nod. “We approach slow. Controlled.”
She agreed and tucked the phone away. “When we get there, Gary stays in the vehicle.”
In the backseat, Gary immediately bristled. “Like hell I do. If someone is watching us, they’ll know I didn’t follow through. I got that message for a reason.”
“You can argue with someone who cares,” Harlan growled without looking at him. “Or you can get out now and walk therest of the way.” He put his hand on the door handle. “Middle of nowhere. Your call.”
Gary clamped his mouth shut. Brenna didn’t miss the way his jaw worked or the heat in his eyes. But he stayed quiet.
Good. The last thing they needed was another variable when they were already walking into what could be a trap.
