She smirked faintly, then went back to tapping, the odd honks and squeals popping out of the speaker.
“I can’t think about Trudy being hurt right now,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the game. “If I do, I’ll lose it. And if I lose it, I can’t think about the details.”
Garrett shifted in his chair, his gaze still locked on her. “What details?”
“The ones we saw in the house.” Her tone sharpened, her voice steadier now. “The office torn apart. The laptop missing. The shadowy figure who shot at you. And what Trudy said before she blacked out.”
Garrett’s jaw tightened. He heard the words again, as if Trudy were saying them now, weak but certain.I think I know who took him.
The memory set his pulse beating harder. Because if she had meant what he thought she meant, then the past they had both tried to bury was clawing its way back.
Garrett’s phone buzzed against his thigh. He pulled it out and saw Noah’s name on the screen. A short text glowed in the harsh hospital light.
Still at the ranch with the county deputies. Sheriff Deacon Raines is on his way to the hospital to talk to you both. CSIs haven’t turned up anything yet. What’s Trudy’s status?
Garrett exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the phone. He typed back fast.No change on Trudy. Still in recovery. We’re waiting.
He hesitated a second, then added,Haven’t had a chance to ask her about what she said before she went under.
He showed Isla Noah’s texts and his reply before he locked the screen and sat back, his mind circling that one jagged phrase.
I think I know who took him.
The words refused to let go, echoing as if Trudy were still lying on the floor, blood on her blouse and her voice breaking. Garrett rubbed a hand over his jaw, the need for answers grinding against the helpless wait.
Isla let out a long sigh and tilted her phone away. “Since you won’t stack zombies or clowns, then try this.”
Garrett arched a brow. “What now?”
Her blue eyes slid toward him, a spark of mischief slipping through the exhaustion. “Remember when we were kids, and I’d take a line from a Christmas carol and swap out a word with something dumb? Like…Deck the halls with boughs of longhorns.”
The corner of his mouth twitched before he could stop it. He remembered. She’d done it every December until Trudy finally banned carols in the house unless they were sung right. Isla had never cared. The quirkiness was just who she was.
He shook his head. “You were relentless with that.”
“And you secretly liked it,” she shot back, her grin faint but real.
Garrett didn’t answer, but the memory stirred something sharp in his chest. She was still that girl in flashes, the one who could turn even grief and chaos into something bearable, even if only for a breath.
The waiting room door swung open. Garrett lifted his head as a man stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, his tan uniform fitting him like it had been cut for him alone. Late thirties, sharp jaw, dark hair trimmed neat, the kind of man who carried both authority and the weight of it without effort.
“Garrett. Isla.” Sheriff Deacon Raines gave them a nod, his voice low and steady. He looked tired, lines bracketing his eyes, but his focus was sharp.
He stopped in front of them, his hat tucked under his arm. “How’s Trudy?”
Isla lowered her phone, the brightness on her face fading. “Out of surgery. She’s in recovery. They won’t let us see her yet.”
Raines gave a slow nod, his mouth pressed tight. Garrett knew he and Trudy went back years. The sheriff had grown up not far from the ranch, and Trudy had been like a second mother to half the county.
“Did you finish giving your statements to my deputy?” Raines asked.
“Yeah,” Garrett said. “He wrapped up and left about an hour ago.”
Sheriff Raines shifted his hat in his hands, his gaze flicking between Garrett and Isla. “There’s something you should know. About a month ago, Trudy came to me asking for the official records on Harris’s disappearance. I gave her copies.”
Garrett straightened. “And?”
“They’re gone. My CSIs checked her office at the ranch, checked her bedroom, too, and the living areas, and the files weren’t there.”
