“And your friend didn’t tell you that when he recommended him?” Ethan demanded.
“No, and I’ll be sure to find out why after I find Katie.”
“What does this have to do with Katie?” Ethan asked.
“The second call was from her boss in LA. The two remaining Alessi brothers left town yesterday. If that isn’t bad enough, they now know who the informant in their department is. Kurt Sinclair.”
“Well fuck!” Buster snarled. “Adding things up in my head, suggests that possibly that asshole deputy of yours is selling her off and that Sinclair is involved in the entire thing.”
“It’s a leap, but I got there too,” Cubby said. “We need to move now. Tex, get out your helicopter, take Annabelle up with you and stay in contact with me. I need your eyes over Pearson’s hut and the area surrounding it. Tank, Rick, Newman, Buster, and Jake, we’ll hit the trail on foot.”
“I’m coming.”
Cubby didn’t argue with Patrick McBride as he stepped to his side. The man was fit, he’d keep up.
They armed themselves and drove to the trail. Walking in, they started in silence, eyes everywhere. He heard Ethan’s bird in the distance, and prayed he found something, anything to tell them where she was.
“She’s a cop, and a good one, so that should keep her safe until we get there.”
Cubby hoped Buster was right.
“There’s a chopper on the other side of the ridge; it’s on the floating landing pad the charter flights use, below Pearson’s hut, Cubby.” Annabelle’s voice came over his radio.
“Stay up there, because if it leaves I need you to follow it, but keep your distance, no risks.”
“Roger.”
“We split up here. I want us to surround the hut and come in from all sides. Jake, you take your dad and Rick, and I’ll take Tank, and Newman. No risks, you call in anything you see.”
“We’ll get her back.” Newman rested a hand on Cubby’s shoulder, but he felt nothing. He wanted Katie, needed her. She made him feel alive, gave him a reason to be the best person he could be, and he wouldn’t lose her now.
Pearson’s hut was just below the ridge. It was surrounded by dense bush. Old man Pearson had been a hermit who’d lived there, alone, for years before he died.
“Can you see any signs of movement?”
“Not from here,” Cubby said, crouching beside his friend. “I’m going closer. Tank, stay here and cover me.”
Newman followed as he’d known he would, and they made it to the front of the hut.
“Stay here.” Cubby pulled out his gun and moved to the door. Trying the handle, he found it unlocked. “Put your hands in the air!” He charged inside.
“Is she there?”
“No, but she was.” He dropped to his knees and picked up the small piece of her race number.
“Seems like your deputy was storing supplies.”
Cubby looked around the small space and found Brady had made the place comfortable. He found a laptop, food, drink, and maps. On the floor, stacked in a corner, was clothing.
“Cubby, there’s people running down the ridge!” Annabelle’s words had him and Newman sprinting from the hut.
“Find me, Belle, and tell me how close I am!” Cubby tried to find gaps between the trees as he sprinted so the helicopter above could direct him.
“Right, go right!” Annabelle cried.
He cut right, with Newman on his heels. He heard the others following.
“They’re making for the helicopter!”
