Page 30 of North

“Seriously?”

“Stabbed. Could have been a robbery.”

North stalked to his car. “Sure it was.” His gut churned. “She might have headed to a local motel. I’m headed there now.”

“Be careful.”

Yeah, sure, whatever. North hung up.

The Cashmere Motor Inn sat next to a veterinary clinic in a semiresidential area under the shadow of the Cascade Foothills. Two stories and painted a deep gray, the place bore the look of a recent remodel.

He got out at the entrance and went inside.

The desk clerk stood behind a wooden counter and looked up from his phone as North approached. Young guy, maybe twenty, with a name tag that read Justin.

“Checking in?”

“Looking for someone who checked out. Woman with two kids?”

“Oh yeah. Early this morning.” Justin straightened. “Guy with them paid cash. Had a weird scar on his face.”

Wow, Justin probably needed a chat about guest security, but North wasn’t complaining. “Did they say where they were headed?”

“Nah. Sorry, man.” Justin went back to his phone. “Nice guy, though. Real polite.”

Nice guys didn’t plot international terror attacks.

North stood in the parking lot, rain soaking through his jacket. A jogger ran down the street, which was otherwise empty in both directions, just small-town Washington waking up.

Where are you, Seels?

Another memory surfaced—her hands gentle on his face after an incident in Mariposa, cleaning a cut above his eye that he’d gotten slapping through the trees. “You don’t always have to be the hero,” she’d said. “Sometimes it’s okay to just be human.”

But being human meant feeling things. Like fear. Like the way his chest tightened every time he thought about…

Maybe her breaking up with him had been for his own good. Because sometimes he couldn’t think straight around her.

But he certainly couldn’t think straight without her, either.

Perfect.

The door behind him opened. Justin stuck his head out. “Hey. I was just talking with our housekeeper—she said she suggested the Paradise Café to them.”

“Where’s that?”

Justin gave him directions. Something about turning at the mini-storage place. He’d figure it out. He got into his tin can just as his phone buzzed again.

“I’m not sure why we ever hang up.”

“Scarlett called,” Ham said. “Selah’s cell pinged on about an hour ago. Scarlett tracked it north of town for a bit, then it went dark.”

“North of town?”

“Over the river and into the woods.”

“Are you being cute?”

“Get some coffee. I’ll send you a pin.”