This has to be for real.

He glanced at his dad and saw that he and Ava were watching Lilian closely, too.

“Could they trace the call?” Jake asked.

Ava shook her head. “A disposable cell. Triangulation of the cell towers indicates the call originated from downtown Portland. He picked the most densely populated area to place the call from.” She glanced at Mason. “I’m going to change into jeans and boots and we can go.”

“Is it bad terrain?” Robin asked.

Ava nodded. “Some of the worst. Riverbeds and cliffs. We’ll see exactly what it’s like when we get there.” She strode out of the room.

Jake watched her leave. Please God, let this be true. He glanced at the clock over the fireplace. An hour before we hear any news? I’ll go crazy waiting. What am I going to do?

McKenzie.

No. Not now. Not when we’re so close to finding Henley.

He studied the adults in the room. Lilian abruptly spun on her heel and went down the hall. Jake heard the guest bedroom door close and knew she wouldn’t be out until they got some news. His mom got up from Lucas’s lap and started loading dishes in the dishwasher. Lucas stared into space for a few moments and then grabbed his tablet and started tapping on the screen.

There was nothing to do but wait. And he could do it alone, or somewhere else, with someone to talk to.

I’ll just be gone for a little while. I’ll be back before Dad calls us about Henley.

No one noticed as he left the family room.

22

77 HOURS MISSING

Mason floored his SUV up the twisting highway. Ava had spent the majority of the ride on her cell, talking to both Sanford and ASAC Duncan. Sanford was on his way to the same location with a dozen agents. He’d contacted the Forest Service and Search and Rescue. Both were going to have teams at the site. Mason had watched the temperature gauge on his dashboard slowly drop as they’d left the city limits. It had been hovering at forty degrees for the last few minutes.

“Not much farther,” Ava commented, studying a map on her phone. She’d changed into hiking boots, jeans, and a heavy jacket. Mason had swapped out his cowboy boots for the hiking boots he always kept in the back of his vehicle. Ava had grabbed a duffle from her trunk. He figured it held the same basics as the one he kept in his vehicle: extra clothing, blanket, ammo, water, protein bars. Whatever a cop thought they might need for a sudden twenty-four-hour mission with no time to stock up. He’d offered to drive, suspecting Ava had phone calls to make, and he’d been right.

They’d soon left the city behind. The highway followed the twisting path of the Sandy River up toward its source in the Cascades. Fir trees towered on both sides of the road, sometimes leaving breaks that gave breathless views down a steep slope to the riverbed. As they rose in elevation, the temperature went lower. Mason hadn’t seen any snow along the road, but he expected it any minute.

Please let her be safe.

Was this a real call? Would it direct them to a little girl or a corpse?

“Take the next right,” Ava directed.

Mason saw a small clearing on the right side of the road a hundred yards ahead. He slowed and pulled into the opening of a Forest Service road. The metal gate was open. Had the Forest Service opened it or had their caller? He had a hunch those roads were all closed this time of year. The Forest Service typically closed the dirt roads during the winter to keep drivers from getting stranded.

He spotted fresh tracks in the thick mud at the gate. He knew from Ava’s last call that Sanford had just arrived with his men and they were getting ready to trek into the woods.

“Your car wouldn’t have handled this,” Mason stated as he shifted into four-wheel drive to move through the mud. Some of the ruts looked a foot deep.

“Definitely not,” Ava said. “Thank you for driving.” Stress showed in her tight jaw.

He understood her tension. What would they find down this road?

They bounced through the ruts, and Ava grabbed her door to stay still in her seat. A half mile in, they spotted a group of other trucks. The familiar odd green of the Forest Service vehicles stood out from the drab colors of the FBI’s SUVs. People stood in small groups, and Mason let out a breath. It appeared no one had set out yet. He parked behind the closest vehicle and grabbed his personal weapon out of the console. Ava watched him check the weapon but said nothing. He was licensed to carry his own concealed weapon. His boss couldn’t take that away from him. He slid the nine millimeter into his shoulder holster under his coat.

They strode to the group, and Mason nodded at the faces he knew from the FBI. A short guy seemed to be giving commands. Not FBI. Sanford introduced Mason and Ava to the group. The short guy was Jim Wolf from the Madison County Search and Rescue, and he was also a deputy in their sheriff’s department. He sized up Mason and Ava in a single glance, seemed to find them acceptable, and continued his explanation of what was about to happen.

Former military.

It showed in Wolf’s stance and delivery.

“The GPS coordinates indicate a location to our south,” said Wolf. “We’re going to divide up into three groups of six, and one of my guys will lead each group. We’ll all be headed in the same direction. It’s downhill and steep. Watch your step. Use your ropes and your brains before doing anything that doesn’t seem right. Hopefully, we won’t have to go very far.”

Mason raised a hand, and Wolf nodded at him. “Was the Forest Service gate locked?”