“Maybe, I guess,” Alice answered. “But she was going pretty straight.” A glance at Tania, youthful insouciance fading into shaky disquiet. “Tans? Did something happen to Miri?”

“I hope not.” Tania stroked her sister’s back. “I’m sorry we can’t help more,” she said to Will. “I’m so worried.”

Taking his leave of the two sisters after asking Tania a few more questions focusing on what she knew of Miriama’s favorite routes, Will drove slowly down the coastal road, scanning it on all sides as he went. He saw nothing and Miriama had been brightly dressed, would’ve stood out if she’d -fallen—-or even if a car had clipped her and she’d been thrown. But it was dark, no streetlights to penetrate the gloom. And if she’d headed down to the beach, then the only way to spot her would be on foot.

Jaw clenched, he turned around and made his way to the fire station, which someone had opened up. He was more than half hoping to arrive and find that the call--up of volunteers had unearthed -Miriama—-the news would’ve spread through the town like wildfire. If she’d been in anyone’s kitchen or living room, she should’ve turned up. But he arrived to find the volunteers milling around with anxious looks on their faces.

“No sign of her?” he asked Nikau.

The other man shook his head. “I had everyone do a bit of calling around before they came here. Nothing. Couldn’t get hold of Dominic de -Souza—-the message on his voice mail says he’s been called out to one of the more remote farms and to contact emergency services if there’s an urgent medical matter. He’s probably out of cell range.”

Will nodded. “From this point on, we assume Miriama is down and needs assistance.”

He and Nikau both knew there could be a far more unsavory reason for Miriama’s disappearance, but Will had to go with the most likely option first. Crime in Golden Cove was generally limited to domestic aggression, kids playing up, and a bit of petty thievery. Accidents, however, were more common, the rugged landscape intolerant of mistakes.

“Okay,” he said to the gathered group, “listen up.”

Waiting until they’d all turned to look at him and the murmuring had died down, he started with a detailed description of what Miriama had been wearing when she went missing. “Keep an eye out for any sign of her clothing, shoes, phone, or iPod. Report everything you find. We’ll make the call as to what’s relevant and what’s not.”

He saw a few people taking notes, but most would remember; like Will, they’d probably seen Miriama running in the same outfit multiple times. “I’m going to hand it over to Nikau to coordinate the search because he knows this area a hell of a lot better than I do.” Will ran with the other man nearly every day, but he’d still only explored a small part of the wilderness that surrounded Golden Cove. “Before I do that, however,” he said, “I want to make it clear you’re to take safety -precautions—-we can’t help Miriama if one of you gets injured as well.”

It was a point he had to drive home because many of the volunteers were -hard--living types used to toughing it. “The more time we have to waste rescuing one of you,” he said, “the less time we have to help Miriama.” He got a few nods, knew that peer pressure would do the rest. They’d look out for one another, make sure people didn’t act stupid.

Nikau stepped forward. “What Will is too polite to say is don’t be fucking assholes.” His voice was harsh. “First up, we need someone to stay here and act as base command.”

A female voice sounded from the back. “That’ll be me.”

Will immediately recognized Matilda’s form moving through the crowd. “I’m too fat and slow to be any real help out there,” she said bluntly after thrusting a piece of paper into Will’s hand. “But I know how to run things like this. This isn’t the first time one of us has gotten into trouble.”

When Nikau didn’t dispute Matilda’s claim, Will realized once again that there was so much more he needed to know about Golden Cove. He’d never have thought that Matilda, gentle and with a tendency to fall for abusive men, had that kind of steel to her.

As he scanned down the written list of the people she’d called and what they’d said, Nikau parceled out the various areas, focusing the search in the direction Miriama had last been spotted. But, as there was a slight chance the young woman had decided to circle back and run on another route, he also sent a smaller number of volunteers in other directions. “Does everyone have flashlights and phones that will work through town?”

Nods all around.

“You’re dressed for the weather?” Nikau asked, and though it might have seemed like an obvious question, Will knew why the other man was asking -it—-the weather around here could change in a single roll of thunder. If a volunteer did manage to injure themselves and got stuck out there in the dark, the rest of them needed to know that person wouldn’t succumb to exposure.

That was also what was worrying him about Miriama; if she’d become disoriented as a result of an injury and wandered off into the landscape around them, she’d be vulnerable not only to any injuries she’d sustained, but also to the cold. She was only wearing running gear, had no jacket or anything else that might protect her from the elements.

He saw the same solemn realization on the faces of all those gathered around. It was quiet Vincent Baker, an unexpectedly decent guy for being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, who said, “We’ll be careful.” Expression drawn, he asked, “What should we do if we find her, and we’re out of cell range? Signal can be patchy when the clouds move in.”