“Send up a drone with FLIR. It can cover—”

“Have you even noticed the weather, Chief?” Ghattas held out a hand, and snow accumulated in his palm. “The snow screws with the infrared.”

Truman held very still, his vision tunneling on the agent.

Don’t . . .

“The forecast for the next few days isn’t any better.” Ghattas looked aside and rubbed his neck. “The Labrador’s handler is concerned about a third day of work in the snow. It’s hard on the dog. It needs some downtime.”

“Don’t do this.” Truman could barely speak.

Regret filled Ghattas’s face, his gaze soft and his mouth turned down. “I gotta put a halt to the outside K9 search for now—”

“No!” Rage and despair lashed out in his shout. “Not yet!”

Jeff and Eddie stepped forward, concern in their eyes.

“Don’t come any closer.” Truman pointed at them, his arm stiff. “Do something, Jeff! You know this isn’t right!” He inhaled, air rasping in his dry throat. “Mercy’s out there somewhere, and we’re not going to pause. Not now. She comes first!”

“Truman . . .” Eddie’s eyes were wet behind his glasses. He clamped his jaw shut and turned away, wiping his face.

Truman stared from one of them to the other.

This isn’t going to happen.

“Fuck you,” he said in a low tone as a mad upheaval rose in his chest and turmoil boiled over in his nerves. “Fuck you,” he yelled directly at Ghattas. “You tell whatever asshole sits above you that you’ve got a missing agent, and you’re not stopping until she’s found!” He lunged into Ghattas’s personal space, making the man raise his hands in defense. “You can spare men to search for her. I don’t care what the weather is supposed to do. It doesn’t matter. Get more dogs—”

“I’m working on getting more dogs,” Ghattas shouted, moving closer until Truman could feel his breath on his face. “Chief Daly, I sympathize, and you have no idea how much I hate to do this.” His eyes narrowed to angry slits. “But you are out of line. Go home.”

Not in a million years. “No, I’ll keep—”

“That’s not a request. That’s an order. You are no longer welcome at my crime scene. We’ll continue to search for Mercy, but you are done. I know Jeff warned you to keep your behavior in line, but you just stepped over that line. Now get out.” He no longer shouted; his words were deliberate and even. And cut even deeper. The SSA stepped backward, not releasing Truman’s gaze.

He meant business.

Truman saw red. I don’t care. I won’t give up. “Just because you—”

“Get out, Chief Daly. You’ve got ten minutes to pack your stuff. If I see you in this base camp or in the compound, I will have you arrested.”

Truman couldn’t speak. His heart was a jackhammer, pummeling his ribs. Jeff’s expression was numb. Eddie had moved away from the argument and braced his hand against a tree, refusing to watch.

They can’t help me.

He studied Ghattas’s face. Closed. Impenetrable.

I’m on my own.

Truman strode away without looking back.

THIRTY-TWO

Ollie stared at his boots as Truman spoke, the words reverberating through his head.

Mercy missing.

He swallowed, his dry throat protesting. If Truman was sitting here in Mercy’s apartment explaining what had happened instead of out hunting for her, the situation was bad.

Beside him on the couch, Kaylie was shaking her head, clutching her cat to her stomach. “No. No,” she repeated over and over during Truman’s story. Tears streamed as she listened, and Truman moved from his chair to sit on her other side, his arm around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, and Truman looked at Ollie over her head, his eyes stricken.

Ollie pulled inside himself, staying rigid, refusing to give in to the emotions shooting through his nerves. He wasn’t like Kaylie; he couldn’t cry in front of her, and the effort was making him numb.

There’s something he’s not telling us.

He’d been told that Truman had left town as part of the investigation into the murdered man Ollie had found alongside the road. Either that story had been a cover-up for why Truman had really left, or the local murder was part of Mercy’s investigation.

Ollie wouldn’t ask in front of Kaylie.

“Why is this happening?” Kaylie sobbed into Truman’s jacket. “I hate her job.” She lifted her head and looked at Truman. “I hate your job too. Why is helping other people more important to you two than us? This is my father all over again—he didn’t think about how his actions could hurt our family.” She crumpled, her shoulders collapsing and her head bowing low over Dulce on her lap.

Ollie winced. Bad decisions had put Kaylie’s father in a dangerous situation, and he’d been murdered. It wasn’t the same with Mercy and Truman; their jobs were to help people.

Truman rubbed Kaylie’s back. The broken look on his face stabbed Ollie in the gut.

“What was Mercy investigating?” Ollie asked. He felt as if he were floating. He was still sitting on the couch, but he saw Truman and Kaylie as if from a great distance.

“An ATF robbery. A lot of stolen weapons.”

“Fucking weapons.” Kaylie’s words were muffled, spoken into Dulce’s fur.

“We’ll find her,” Truman repeated for the tenth time, determination in his tone.

“How?” Kaylie asked, wiping her nose. “They made you leave.”

“I’m going back out there. Evan Bolton told me about a private search-and-rescue canine he hired a year ago. The woman and her dog really impressed him. He contacted her, and she’ll meet us there tomorrow morning. Bolton insists on going back with us.”

“A search-and-rescue dog?” Ollie asked. His dog, Shep, had amazed him with his tracking ability in the woods. There was no one Ollie would rather be lost with.

“The search dog that the federal agencies brought in was great,” said Truman. “Since I can’t work with them any longer, I hired my own. I think it’s the most effective tool to finding her. We’ll search away from the compound, because the first dog did a thorough job. We need to look at the area farther out.”

“But it’s snowing,” Kaylie pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter to the dog. This woman says her dog has found several people in poor weather.”

A very small spark of hope touched Ollie. He hung on Truman’s words, searching his face for the truth. If Truman was optimistic, then he would be too. Forest survival was tough. No one knew better than he, and snow made it even tougher. But Mercy wasn’t just anyone. She was resourceful and a fighter.

This was his family. Mercy, Truman, and Kaylie. The upcoming wedding would be a milestone for Ollie. His favorite people were bonding for life. And their happiness was a part of him.

With Kaylie’s help, he’d found a wedding present. Kaylie had adored the idea, and they’d agreed it’d be from them both. Just yesterday Ollie had placed the order. The cost had been high, but he’d known it was the perfect gift.

A tribute to their patched-together little family.

Now it ripped him apart to think of the present. If it arrived, and Mercy hadn’t come home . . .

Stop. Don’t go there.

Kaylie shuddered. “Please bring her back, Truman.” Her voice cracked.

Ollie’s soul echoed her words.

Truman watched Mercy’s sister Pearl slide into mothering mode with Kaylie. He’d informed Mercy’s family of the situation before he told the teens, and asked Pearl to come stay with Kaylie so he could return to the search. Rose and Owen had both descended on their parents’ home with their families, keeping vigil.

He watched Ollie out of the corner of his eye. The young man appeared stoic, but Truman suspected it was a shield to keep Kaylie from seeing his real feelings. Truman knew how to read the teen, and saw he was crushed and worrying inside.

In the kitchen Truman poured a cup of coffee, wishing it were something much, much stronger, and Ollie joined him.

“You told us you went out of town as part of the investigation into the guy I found by the road,” Ollie said quietly as his eyes searched Truman’s.

It felt as if a spotlight were shining in Truman’s face. Even with all the media hype, the ATF had kept the murder of their agent, Timothy O’Shea, out of the news. The media knew the compound was tied to the death of the two ATF agents from the weapons heist but did not know an FBI agent was missing.

But he couldn’t lie to Ollie.

“That murder was related to Mercy’s investigation.” He kept it simple but true.

Ollie was silent, scrutinizing, and Truman felt as if Ollie saw right through him.

“How?”

Truman searched for an explanation that wouldn’t alarm Ollie. “The dead man was from the compound.”

“Why was he murdered?”

“He was against the compound leadership.” Still true.

The teen turned to check on Kaylie and Pearl, who sat on the couch, their heads together in comfort and sorrow. “Did the leadership believe Mercy was against them?” he asked quietly when he faced Truman again.