Shit. “Affecting tonight?”
“Affecting everything.”
Beyond shit.Fuck. “Okay. Where?”
He gave me a location. A pull-off on the mountain road north of town, near the bridge over Kettle Creek gorge. I vaguely knew the spot. Scenic overlook and bridge.
“Just you,” he said. “Leave Jolly. If this person sees a military-looking dog, they’re not going to cooperate.”
“He needs as much rest for tonight as possible. Give me twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
“Vance.” I turned toward the wall so no one would overhear. “Do I need to bring backup? Get Rawlings in on this?”
“No. Not yet. Just…come out here. It’ll all make sense.”
“Okay.”
I pocketed the phone, told the duty sergeant I’d be back before staging, and walked out to my truck, wondering what the hell was going on.
The road north of town climbed through switchbacks, the headlights carving into dark forest on both sides. No moon. The darkness boded well for our op in a few hours but made these mountain roads scary as shit.
Vance’s unmarked sedan sat at the pull-off, tucked against the guardrail where the road curved along the gorge. Below it, somewhere in the dark, Kettle Creek cut through rock on its way to lower ground.
I parked behind him and got out.
Vance was standing beside his vehicle. Jacket over histactical vest, hands at his sides. I didn’t see anybody else around. He stepped forward.
“Thanks for coming out.”
“What’s going on, man? We don’t have time to fuck around tonight.”
“Walk with me a second.” He moved toward the front of his car. “I appreciate you coming out here. This couldn’t wait.”
He stopped. Turned sideways. Stepped back from the passenger door.
Kayla was in the front seat.
My brain stalled on it. Kayla. Here. Why? Why was she here on a dark mountain road, sitting in Vance’s car?
Had something happened to William? Had there been an emergency and Vance brought me?—
Then I saw how she was sitting. Her body angled awkwardly toward the center console, her shoulders torqued, her posture wrong in a way that didn’t make sense until the headlight glow caught the plastic around her wrists.
Zip-tied to the steering wheel.
Everything inverted. Instantly, not gradually.
My body understood before my mind finished processing—the location, the isolation, the man I’d trusted standing three feet from the woman I loved.
Vance had kidnapped Kayla.
My hand immediately went to my sidearm.
“Don’t. I don’t want to shoot her, I really don’t, but don’t doubt I will.” Vance’s weapon was already out. Not aimed at me. Aimed through the window at Kayla, the barrel close enough to the glass that she’d flinched toward the center console. “Take your weapon out. Two fingers. Set it on the ground.”
Fuck. My hand froze at my sidearm.
