But the woods stretched endlessly in every direction, and she had no idea where she was going.
Then she heard a second voice, distant but clear.
“You see her?”
There were two of them now.
Panic surged fresh and sharp.
How was she going to get out of this?
Micah’s typed the address into his GPS.
Cooperstown. 412 Maple Ridge Road.
The device told him the location was twenty-eight minutes away.
He needed to get there faster.
He flipped on his police lights, gripped the steering wheel, and pressed the accelerator.
The speedometer climbed. Sixty. Seventy. Eighty.
His mind spun through scenarios, each one worse than the last.
If Naomi had gone to that address—if she’d walked into a situation without backup, without knowing what she was dealing with . . .
His chest constricted.
Please let me be wrong. Please let Naomi have gone somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But he knew he wasn’t wrong.
He knewexactlywhere she’d gone. She’d quickly become attached to Good Boy and couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to the dog. That had led her to being uncharacteristically impulsive.
And he knew with a sick, cold certainty that she was in danger.
The miles stretched out in front of him, each one feeling like ten.
Finally, the GPS announced he was five miles out.
Then three.
Then one.
He switched off his lights and slowed as he approached Maple Ridge Road.
He scanned the area for Naomi’s SUV.
Finally, he saw her Expedition. She’d parked off the side of the road, her vehicle barely visible through the trees.
He pulled in behind it and threw his SUV into Park. Quickly, he checked the inside.
Just as he feared, it was empty. Naomi wasn’t inside.
Based on where she’d left her vehicle, he had to believe she didn’t charge up to the house. She was too smart for that.
She must have gone through the woods to check out the location.
If so, he needed to find her.
He grabbed his weapon, checked the magazine, and stepped out of the SUV.
Please, Lord. Help me find her. Help keep her safe.
