“This address.” He said it slowly. “It’s not the same one Deputy Knox called in.”
Naomi turned the words over in her mind.
Two addresses. Two possible locations.
“So either your deputy has the wrong location . . .” she started.
“Or Gio does.” Micah’s eyes cut to hers. “Or Gio is purposefully sending us somewhere we’re not supposed to be.”
The thought sat between them cold and heavy.
Naomi looked down at her phone. At Gio’s name on the screen.
She thought about the way he’d shown up unannounced. The way he’d watched her on the porch.
Then she thought about that text.I knew better than to try and approach to help. I followed them instead.
“He didn’t have to contact us,” she murmured.
“No,” Micah agreed. “He didn’t. But his clue, if he’s being truthful, means we need to head in the opposite direction.”
They had maybe two minutes before he had to decide which direction to head. If they picked the wrong one . . . then Grace’s abductors could get farther away.
Naomi looked at him. “What do you think?”
His eyes stayed on the road. “I think we have a baby to find.”
He reached for the radio.
Micah sent two deputies to the address Knox had called in. Then he turned toward Harlan Road.
It wasn’t the decision he would have made twenty-four hours ago. Trusting Gio Moretti wasn’t something that came naturally, and he doubted it ever would. But Naomi’s logic had been sound—a man trying to mislead them had easier ways to do it than this.
So he drove.
The turnoff came fast—a gap in the tree line he would have missed if he hadn’t known to look for it. A dirt road, rutted and narrow, curving away through the trees. And at the entrance, half-hidden by overgrown brush, a rusted gate hanging open.
Micah slowed to a crawl.
“There,” Naomi murmured.
The dark SUV sat in a clearing ahead, pulled up close to a low clapboard building. Same vehicle. Same plates.
Gio had been telling the truth.
His car was there, parked in the shadows about thirty yards ahead. As Micah drove past, he caught a glimpse of Gio inside—watching the property, phone in hand.
Micah pulled off the road behind a thick stand of trees and cut the engine.
He climbed out and crossed to Gio quickly.
Gio rolled down his window. “Sheriff.”
“Stay in your vehicle,” Micah said. “Do not approach the property. Are we clear?”
“Clear.” Gio glanced toward the building, then back at Micah.
Micah turned back toward his SUV. He reached for his radio and gave his deputies the updated location, told them to redirect and approach silent, no lights.
