Then the taller man reached over and killed the overhead light.
Darkness swallowed the room instantly.
For the first time since they’d dragged him off the farm, Cal felt something he couldn’t fight with his fists or the Hollis name. Panic slid in under his ribs, sharp and unfamiliar.
The steel door slammed shut.
Locks clanked into place.
And somewhere outside?—
An engine started.
51
Jackson County Sheriff’s Office
The bullpen was alive when Burke and Grant came through the doors.
Phones ringing.
Radios crackling.
Deputies moving fast beneath harsh fluorescent lights.
Fear and adrenaline hung thick in the air.
Burke walked straight through the middle of it.
“Jenkins,” he barked.
Deputy Jenkins looked up instantly from one of the desks.
“Sir.”
“Call everybody in.”
Jenkins straightened. “Everybody?” “Everybody except Scout. He stays in position.” The air in the room shifted. Burke kept moving. “Luke, Baker, Sara, K-9. Full gear. I want everyone ready to roll the second I get back.”
Luke Hale came out of the equipment room already pulling on a vest.
“What’ve we got?”
“Possible hostage location.”
The room went dead quiet.
Grant stood off to the side near Burke’s office, pacing hard, running one hand through his hair over and over.
Barely holding it together.
Burke looked at Jenkins again.
“You tell dispatch nobody leaks this location over open channels. I don’t want this mountain lit up with blue lights before we get there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Burke turned toward his office—and stopped.
