Dean felt his world tilting on its axis. Seven hours. If someone had attacked Lacey and left her somewhere in these woods with a serious injury, they might already be too late.
But he couldn't think that way. He had to believe that Lacey was still alive, that they could find her before it was too late.
"Let's get those dogs working," Dean said with grim determination. "We're going to find her."
As the search teams prepared to fan out into the darkness, Dean stared into the forest and made a silent promise. Whatever it took, however long it took, he was going to bring Lacey home safely.
The alternative was simply unacceptable.
20
DEAN
The forest around Ember Lake had transformed into a coordinated search operation within thirty minutes of discovering Lacey's abandoned rental truck. Emergency vehicles lined the access road, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows through the trees as search teams organized themselves into systematic patterns.
Dean found himself paired with June as they prepared to canvas the developed camping areas while other teams took responsibility for the wilderness trails and deeper forest sections. The decision to search every cabin and tent, regardless of the late hour, had been unanimous. When someone's life was at stake, social conventions about disturbing people after ten o'clock at night became irrelevant.
"We'll take the family camping section," Holt announced, dividing up the search area on a hand-drawn map. "Dean and June, can you handle the cabin rentals on the north side of the lake?"
"Of course," Dean replied, accepting the flashlight and emergency radio Holt handed him. His chest felt tight withanxiety, but his breathing was still manageable as long as he stayed focused on the task at hand.
The cabin rental area consisted of about twenty small structures scattered through the trees, ranging from rustic one-room buildings to larger family accommodations. Most showed signs of occupancy despite the late hour, with porch lights on and the soft glow of interior lighting visible through curtained windows.
"We'll start at the far end and work our way back toward the main road," June suggested as they approached the first cabin. "That way we're not doubling back on ourselves."
Dean nodded, grateful for June's practical approach to the search. Having her beside him helped keep his mind focused on the immediate task rather than spiraling into worst-case scenarios about what might have happened to Lacey.
The first several cabins yielded nothing useful. Concerned vacationers and local residents emerged in bathrobes and pajamas to answer their urgent knocking, all expressing sympathy and offers to help when Dean and June explained the situation and showed them Lacey's photograph. But none of them had seen anything suspicious or noticed anyone matching Lacey's description in the area.
It wasn't until they reached a larger cabin near the end of the row that they got their first real lead.
"Mom, Dad, there are people at the door asking about that lady we saw earlier," called a teenage voice from inside the cabin when Dean knocked.
A middle-aged man appeared at the door, followed closely by his wife and two teenagers, who looked to be about 15 and 17 years old.
"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Dean began, "but we're looking for a missing woman. Dr. Lacey Peltz. She disappeared this afternoon, and her car was found in the lake."
"Oh no," the woman gasped. "Is she all right?"
"We don't know," June replied, showing them the photograph on her phone. "Have you seen this woman anywhere around the campground today?"
The teenage girl immediately perked up with recognition. "Yes, that's her. We saw her this afternoon, maybe around four or five o'clock."
"Where did you see her?" Dean asked urgently.
"She was walking toward the back of the camping area," the boy added. "Toward that old burned-out cabin that's all cordoned off with police tape."
Dean felt his blood turn to ice water. The burned cabin. The site of the fire that had claimed five lives ten years ago, including his son Shaun.
"Was she alone?" June asked, her voice carefully controlled.
"Yeah, she was by herself," the girl confirmed. "We thought it was weird because nobody's supposed to go back there. There are signs and everything."
"Which direction exactly?" Dean managed to ask.
The father stepped onto his porch and pointed toward a barely visible trail that led deeper into the forest. "There's an old path that goes back about half a mile to where that cabin used to be. The whole area has been off-limits since the fire, but you can still follow the trail if you know where to look."
"Thank you so much," June said quickly. "You've been incredibly helpful."
