“Why weren’t you with her?” Nate snaps.
The guilt slams into me harder than if he had punched me. “I needed to take a call.”
“And it was more important than my sister’s safety?”
“It was about her safety,” I shout, patience wearing down to its final thread.
Nate watches me, reading my expression and searching for something. He must find whatever it is he’s looking for because his jaw tightens.
“We’ve got blood,” an officer shouts from farther down the alley.
My heart lurches as the three of us start jogging across the asphalt.
“Stay back, Riggsby,” Davis demands, grabbing my arm.
I jerk out of his hold, but stay at the edge of the alley, where officers and crime scene techs gather. Even from here, I can see the puddle of blood reflecting in the light.
My phone vibrates, and my hand digs it out on instinct.
TB
Found her.
TB
The Willow has a camera pointing toward Main Street. Exact make and model of the camper van was headed north five minutes ago.
My vision blurs as I read the text again.
I was five minutes too late.
I glance back to where they’re evaluating the blood, but find Nate watching me.
“What is it?”
I jerk my head, motioning for him to come closer, and when he does, I show him the text.
“Dammit, Riggsby,” Davis grumbles, pushing closer to us. “I told you to stop interfering.”
“He’s done more than you and your team have,” Nate defends, pointing my phone toward Davis.
His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline as he glances up at me.
“I told you…”
“I don’t care what you told me; there’s your confirmation we were right.” I clench my jaw. “Either cuff me, or get the hell out of my way. Because I’m not standing here while she’s out there with him.”
Davis reaches for his cuffs.
“Fuck this.” Nate steps forward. “You ride with me and stay in the car.”
Davis starts to argue, something about protocol, but Nate cuts him off again. “We don’t have time for a pissing match. Let’s go save my sister.”
Without waiting for permission, I start jogging in the opposite direction—the way Nate arrived. I hear Davis barking out orders as Nate makes a call over his radio. Sounds like they’re bringing in the cavalry. I don’t care who they call as long as they bring my girl home…safely.
The SUV lights flash as I near. Jerking open the door, I’m hit with a wave of coffee, beef jerky, and…ass.
“Jesus, Nate.” I chastise, scrunching my nose at the stench of his car.
