Then Burke’s voice went deadly calm.
“Do not touch anything.”
Naomi looked back toward the empty farmhouse, fear spreading cold through her.
“Burke—”
“We’re on our way.”
The line disconnected.
Naomi immediately hit Caitlin’s number next.
Caitlin answered before the first full ring.
“Naomi?”
“They’re gone.”
A sharp inhale.
“What?”
“The house is empty. Cal’s SUV is sitting here open. Front door’s standing wide open.”
For one second Caitlin said nothing.
Then Naomi heard it.
A broken sound.
“No,” Caitlin whispered.
Then louder?—
“No! Please?—”
The cry shattered straight through Naomi.
“I’m almost there,” Caitlin choked out. “Oh my God?—”
The line went dead.
* * *
Highway 107 — 5:24 PM
Grant barely slowed as Burke’s truck flew onto the gravel road leading toward Bridlepath.
Dust exploded behind them.
Burke drove one-handed, phone pressed to his ear while Grant sat rigid in the passenger seat, every muscle in his body locked tight.
“What exactly did Naomi say?” Grant demanded.
“House open. Cal’s SUV there. Nobody inside.”
Grant’s stomach dropped.
