Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(129)

Kol gave the vehicle a wide berth as he circled it. “I see her. Moving around the SUV. She stops here.” He pointed to a cluster of footprints in the dirt. “Someone else comes. Size indicates male. They move this way.” He traced a path in the distance.

“Toward the trail,” I growled.

Kol nodded. “The trail.” His gaze flicked to my SUV. “You think you can work with the dog?”

My gaze moved to Yeti, watching us through the open window of my 4Runner, on alert. I wasn’t sure, but I could try. “I need something with Brae’s scent.” I was already moving back to my SUV. “Evidence bag?”

Kol was moving then, too, grabbing something from his truck.

The coldness in me intensified as I took the bag from him, registering the word EVIDENCE in block letters, the orange seal. I didn’t want to put anything of Brae’s in a bag like this. But I didn’t have a choice.

Opening her pack, I pulled out a sweatshirt, using the bag so I didn’t touch it. The sweatshirt was a burst of color, with rainbow stripes so opposite to the darkness swirling inside me.

I moved to my SUV and let Yeti out. I didn’t know all the fancy French commands, but I tried for English. “Come.”

Yeti answered instantly, happily panting away. She had no idea what was wrong. That someone had Brae. My lungs constricted, but I bent down, trying to remember how my hellion had done it.

“Find Brae, Yeti. Find.”

Yeti sniffed the open bag and let out a happy bark. Her nose dropped to the dirt as she ambled around. Finally, she caught the trail near the SUV. She circled it and then took off toward the trail.

“We’ll keep you updated,” Kol called to Maverick and then turned to me. “Let’s go.”

But I was already there.

Yeti moved quickly down the trail, her nose ghosting over the dirt path. Brae had explained to me once that Yeti was trained in trailing, a specific type of tracking. But she was starting to work with the dog on air tracking, where she didn’t just follow a footstep path but scents in the air.

Yeti’s progress faltered for a moment, and as I looked over her head, I saw why. That coldness in me turned to icy shards. Something had fallen across the path. Someone.

I was running before I consciously gave myself the command. As I did, I took in things in snapshots: a tan uniform, a male form—long and lean. A familiar face.

“Fucking hell,” Kol muttered.

I crouched, pressing two fingers to Sheriff Miller’s neck. I shook my head. “Gone.”

There was no pulse, and his eyes were wide and unblinking. Emotions warred within me. Relief that it wasn’t Brae. Fear that whoever likely had her was capable of cold-blooded murder.

Kol pulled out his phone, barking out information, likely to the sheriff’s department and his own Forest Service agency contacts. But Yeti was still moving. She circled the area and then started off the trail, heading into the woods.

Her nose moved from the forest floor into the air, and she sniffed as if struggling, ambled a bit.

“Someone’s carrying her,” Kol clipped. “There are signs of a struggle, maybe someone falling on the path.”

I locked down the fear that wanted to take hold and welcomed the fury instead. They wouldn’t hurt her. I would tear them apart before they could.

Yeti caught something moving deeper into the trees. The brush grew thicker, the pines closer together, but the dog kept leading us on. Then she stopped, confused. But I saw it.

ATV tracks.

“Goddammit,” Kol muttered, pulling out his phone again.

Mine let out a ding. A text flashed.

Orion



I think I see her. Through my binoculars. I’m a good three miles away. Between the ranch and where Three Creeks trail meets West Ridge trail. Cabin. Male suspect. She doesn’t look conscious. Sending coordinates.





It was the longest text I’d gotten from Orion in years. But I could only focus on one thing. She doesn’t look conscious. Which meant she might not be breathing, alive.

I shoved the fear down again, harder this time, and locked it away. Then, I let the darkness free.

Kol looked up from his phone, clearly having read the same text. “We’re about a mile from these coordinates. You and I move out? Or wait for backup?”

There was a reason to wait for our area’s SWAT team or some kind of backup. But I couldn’t. There was no way I would risk something happening to Brae while we sat around.

My gaze locked with my brother’s. I knew what kind of risk I’d be putting Kol in, and I couldn’t. “I’ll go alone.”

“The hell you will,” Kol snarled. “You go with me, or you wait for SWAT.”

I muttered a curse. “You and me. But I take point.”

Kol jerked his head in a nod, then bent, pulling his backup weapon from an ankle holster. “You need it.”

Everything in me recoiled. But this was for Brae.

I took the weapon, feeling the weight of it in my hand. The XD Sub-Compact 9mm was light but, at the same time, incredibly heavy. I checked the safety, the grip. I let myself feel the weight of something that could end a life. And then, I let the darkness take over. For Brae.

“Let’s go.”





55





BRAEDYN