The taller man dragged her toward the open back door of the black SUV. She fought wildly now, nails clawing, heels digging trenches into the dirt. The farmhouse blurred behind her. They shoved Cal into the floorboard first. Izzy was thrown in after him, her shoulder slamming against his ribs. The door slammed, the child locks clicking into place with a final, mechanical snap. The SUV shot forward, gravel spraying behind it, leaving Cal’s empty vehicle idling alone in the dirt.
Through the rear glass, Izzy caught one last glimpse of Bridlepath Farm. The front door still open. The farm disappeared behind dust and trees.
Izzy looked toward the driver.
“Where are you taking us?”
The driver adjusted the rearview mirror slowly, meeting her eyes for the first time.
His expression never changed.
“You’re the one with the secrets, Izzy,” he said quietly.
“We’re here to find out what they are.”
* * *
Jackson County Museum — 5:11 PM
Caitlin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the restoration room, balancing her phone against her shoulder while locking a display case.
She smiled when Izzy’s contact popped up.
Or tried to.
The smile faded when the call rolled straight to voicemail.
Caitlin frowned and pulled the phone away from her ear.
That was odd.
Izzy had been answering almost immediately all day.
She hit redial while walking toward the front desk.
Far away, in the black SUV racing through the mountains, Izzy’s watch buzzed softly against her wrist.
Izzy jerked at the sound.
Caitlin.
Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.
She tried to keep her face neutral as the vibration continued against her skin.
Beside her, Cal was still half-conscious on the floorboard, blood at the corner of his mouth.
The taller man in the passenger seat glanced back once.
Izzy slowly slid her hand over the watch face and killed the call.
The vibration stopped.
A few seconds later?—
Buzz.
Caitlin again.
