he said, his voice calm.
Her eyes widened and a line of tension drew her mouth.
Molly squirmed in her arms. “I’m scared.”
“Go back the way we came,” Garrett said. He tugged the Beretta from beneath his jacket. “You have your SIG?”
She nodded.
“Be ready.”
She shuffled Molly in her arms.
“Fire in the air if you see anything or anyone and then head back toward the ranch. I’ll catch you. Can you find it?”
She nodded, placing herself at the edge of the clearing, ready to bolt, her hand gripping the weapon.
Garrett pushed through the pines and studied the ground. There were at least two sets of shoes. He sifted the dirt. The fire’s remains were cold. They hadn’t been watching. The tension in his chest eased a bit.
He glanced over at Laurel. She stood alert, watching everything. She would protect Molly with her life. He didn’t like leaving them alone, but he needed to discover who these two people were. He followed the trail. The ground told many truths. One person fell, then scrambled to his feet. Garrett hit some granite rock and the trail vanished, but he picked it back up again on the other side.
Kneeling down, he studied the prints. “Who are you?”
Then he caught sight of a small impression. A kid’s sneaker.
Aah. Quietly, he topped a hill. Below, a man hurried his wife and son across the terrain. The guy looked at him, and Garrett knew he recognized the sheriff’s uniform, even without the star.
His face erupted in terror, but he didn’t pull a weapon. He shoved his wife and son behind him and stared up at Garrett.
Not a great place to cross the border. Especially with a family. Was a coyote nearby? Most of the men who made a living illegally bringing people across the border made Garrett’s stomach turn. They charged thousands of dollars to cross into the United States, and if their “customers” were lucky, the coyote got them to civilization. The unlucky ones ended up dead of thirst in the desert.
Garrett scanned the horizon, searching for signs of a coyote, but he didn’t see anyone.
With a quick nod to the man, he turned and hurried back toward the clearing. He had to get Laurel and Molly to safety.
They might end up much like that man and his family. Living under the radar.
Unless Garrett succeeded where he and James had failed for the past eighteen months.
Garrett shoved his Stetson on his head. Now, though, he had to succeed for more than just revenge—he had to succeed to protect two innocent lives.
He wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t.
* * *
LAUREL CARRIED MOLLY back into the cabin. Her niece was way too quiet. The little girl toyed with the collar Ivy had placed around the neck of her lion.
Garrett followed her in. “I’m canvassing the area once more. Lock the door behind me. I’ll knock three times when I get back. And keep the gun handy.”
“Shoot if someone else tries to get in,” Laurel said. “Got it.”
“Not if it’s me.” Garrett shut the door, putting the box of food on the floor.
Molly wiggled from Laurel’s arms. “I want to go into my fort,” she muttered. “I want Mr. Hairy Houdini to come with me.”
“Want me to play with you?”
The little girl whispered into her stuffed animal’s ear and shook her head, disappearing beneath the afghan.
Laurel sighed and put away the groceries, keeping a close eye on Molly.
Within a few minutes, the little girl was rubbing her eyes and yawning. It had been a tough few days. Not to mention just getting over strep throat.
Massaging her temple, Laurel scanned the room. They couldn’t stay here forever. The only way out was to find who was behind Ivy’s murder. And her father’s disappearance. And stop them.
Garrett knew more than he was revealing. She believed that, and she didn’t know who he was, really. That uneasy feeling at the base of her neck increased the urgency. She needed to do something. To protect Molly and herself. Not just for the moment, but for the future.
Laurel checked once more on her niece, but the little girl had zonked out.
Careful not to make any noise, she opened Garrett’s office door and walked inside. She propped the door open so she could hear Molly or anyone outside and turned the machines on.
She’d had an idea. Maybe, just maybe, it would work.
Growing up with her father’s ability to discover what his daughters were doing, Laurel had become adept at hiding her tracks. She’d joined the computer club at school. Yeah, it had helped her get into college, but more important, it had taught her a few tricks. Tricks that came in handy at her job, and that might come in even handier now.
She risked a lot doing this without Garrett here, but she had to try. It was her last chance or they’d have to go with Garrett’s plan.
She navigated to a portal leading into some of the intelligence organization’s unclassified databases.
When the log-in came up, she tapped her finger on the keyboard.
If she entered her information, she was starting a ticking clock. Eventually they would know she’d entered the system; they’d know what she discovered.
Garrett still hadn’t returned.
She took a deep breath. She had to take the chance.
Her finger trembled typing in the password.
She was in.
Glancing at the time on the computer screen, she quickly navigated to the travel database. Relatively low priority. She entered her father’s name.
Access denied.
Interesting. She backed out, this time searching for Ivy’s name, then hers. Finally, with her own name, she received a different screen.
Clicking on a link pulled up her personal data.
Status: Missing, presumed dead.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Strickland cursed. “Waiting around in this godforsaken town is getting us nowhere.” The December Texas sun heated up the SUV and sweat trickled down his neck. He wiped his arm on his forehead.
