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She nodded. “Like I would my own kids, I promise you.”

I pulled her into a quick hug. “Have Jackie call me when she has the address. I’ll start driving that way now.”

She reached into her back pocket, handing me her car keys. “Yours is trapped by police tape,” she explained, pointing across the street to her car. “Bring her home.”

I nodded and headed toward the car. Just as I was unlocking it, Oliver was by my side. “You know where we’re going?”

“Within reason.”

“Good enough for me.” He rounded the car and hopped into the passenger seat.

Lexington

We sped down the empty highway leading into Cherrytree Hills. We were only minutes away from the spot where I’d found Goldie all those months ago, yet we still had no idea where we were actually headed.

We both knew this was a long shot, but Oliver and I were more than willing to take the risk. It was a guess that she was being held somewhere out here, but a guess was better than nothing—which was what the cops had. Shit, I needed to call Detective Ransom. He would want to know what happened.

“Do you see my phone anywhere?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure if I had brought it with me. I knew I didn’t have my wallet on me, so I should probably stop speeding in case I got pulled over, but at the moment, I didn’t care all that much.

Oliver looked around quickly and shook his head before fishing his own out of his pocket and handing it to me. “You can use mine.”

I cut my gaze between the road and the phone, trying for the life of me to remember Ransom's number. “Do you know Detective Ransom’s phone number?”

He quirked a brow. “Why would I know that?”

“I need to call him. He’ll want to know what’s going on,” I mumbled, choosing to call Jackie instead.

It rang once, twice, before she picked up with an exasperated “Finally!”

“Hey, can you find my phone and get a number off it for me?” I asked quickly, doing my best to stay focused on driving. Not that we had passed another car since pulling onto the highway with the sun setting over the trees and blanketing the world around us in eerie darkness, the only light offered from the full moon high above.

“I’ve called you a dozen times—okay, three—but still,” she exclaimed. “Wait, you need me to get your phone? Do you not have it?”

“He left it at the house,” Oliver said, reaching over to slip the phone from my grip. He tapped the speaker button and held it between us so he wouldn't miss a word.

“Oh, yeah, I should have thought about that,” she muttered. “Well, too late now. About the address—”

“Did you find it?” A spark of hope that we were on the right track and would be able to track her down slithered down my spine.

“Yes and no,” she explained quickly, and I kept myself from outwardly groaning. “I couldn’t find the property you were referencing based on the name you gave me—this Peter Baker guy. I am digging through public files, so they’re not very thorough. It made me think that if I looked at all property owned by Cherrytree Hills residents and filtered by addresses for only those located outside the town itself, I would get closer. I’m throwing darts in the dark here. Anyway, there wasn't a lot left over. Most people don’t own property outside their hometown.”

“Jackie,” Oliver warned, his gaze stuck on me and my probably irritated face. I loved Jackie, but right now I really needed her to get to the point.

She sighed. “Right, sorry. There were five residents with properties outside Cherrytree Hills, and four of them aren’t in the state. But the remaining property isn’t owned by Peter Baker. He doesn’t even own his own home; it’s in a trust that was started by his parents and has executors to manage it all for him.”

I was taken aback for a moment. “Why would Goldie write that in her notebook if it wasn't true?”

“I thought the same thing, and Theo had the idea to ask River if she was writing in the notebook before… well, before everything happened. He couldn’t give us an exact confirmation—I mean, he’s four, I didn’t expect him to. He did say she was on the phone, however.”

“Do you know who with?” I asked, hoping whoever it was might have overheard what had happened.

“We had the same question and went hunting for the phone. We found it under River’s bed, the screen smashed—completely obliterated, but it was still working. We plugged it into the computer, pulled up the data, and I got a name,” Jackie explained, obviously proud of her actions. I was, too; she was acting as her very own detective.

“Who was it—” I began.

“Lex!” Oliver yelled, his arm moving in front of me, his gaze focused on the road ahead. I saw him at the last moment, slamming my foot on the brakes, the sound of squealing tires disrupting the otherwise quiet night and the smell of burning rubber wafting through the air.

I had managed to stop the car just in time to keep from hitting the man in question himself. Peter Baker stood in the middle of the road, his eyes wide in panic, his denim overalls and long-sleeved undershirt soaked through—from rain or sweat, I wasn’t sure.