Page 33 of Enduring Promise

Hillary’s stomach twisted. Thirty-five acres of thick forest would be almost impossible to search thoroughly, especially at night. She forced herself to take a steadying breath. “Then that’s where we’ll start,” she said firmly. “The police need to know.”

Madame Fournier nodded. “I’ll inform them immediately. I’ll have them dispatch a helicopter for the search.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she straightened, her natural authority taking over.

Hillary reached out, placing a comforting hand on the older woman’s arm. “Claire is smart,” she said, her voice steady. “She’ll do everything she can to stay alive. She knows we’re coming for her.”

Madame Fournier gave a nod, her composure returning as she turned to make the call. Hillary didn’t wait any longer. She spun on her heel and headed toward the woods, her flashlight slicing through the darkness. Russ appeared at her side moments later, his face set in a determined grimace.

“They were spotted heading this way,” he said, gesturing toward the tree line beyond the lake. “If they’re in the woods, they’ll have a hell of a time moving fast. It’s dense in there.”

Hillary glanced toward the trees, their towering silhouettes stretching into the night sky. Even from a distance, she could tell the terrain would be rough—thick undergrowth, uneven ground, and low-hanging branches that would snag at clothing and skin. But it also meant Michael wouldn’t be able to move as easily either. Especially if Claire was fighting him. That thought gave her a small glimmer of hope.

“Let’s go,” she said, adjusting her flashlight. “If we can get to them before he does something rash?—”

“He won’t hurt her,” Russ cut in, his voice tight. “Not yet. He needs her too much. But that doesn’t mean we have time to waste.”

They reached the edge of the woods, the distant sounds of the search party fading as the thick trees swallowed them. The air was cooler here, damp and heavy with the earthy scent of moss and pine. The beam of Hillary’s flashlight illuminated the underbrush, every step forcing her to push aside branches and vines that clawed at her arms and legs.

The woods were eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The towering trees loomed overhead, their thick canopies blocking out much of the moonlight. Hillary stumbled on an exposed root, catching herself against a nearby tree.

“Careful,” Russ muttered, his voice low. He reached out to steady her, his own flashlight casting shifting shadows against the trees.

“I’m fine,” Hillary said, brushing off her scraped hand. She kept moving, her pace quick despite the challenging terrain. Every now and then, she’d stop to listen, her ears straining for any sound—a voice, footsteps, anything that would lead them to Claire.

The farther they went, the thicker the woods became. The underbrush was a tangle of brambles and ferns, and the ground was uneven, littered with fallen branches and patches of slick moss. Hillary’s heart raced as her flashlight caught movement ahead, only to reveal a startled rabbit darting into the shadows.

“They could be anywhere,” she said, her frustration bleeding into her voice. “Thirty-five acres... this could take all night.”

“Not if we stay smart,” Russ replied. He gestured toward the trail they’d been following—a narrow, overgrown path thatwound deeper into the woods. “If Michael’s trying to get away, he’ll need to stick to trails like this. Forcing Claire through rough terrain would slow him down too much.”

Hillary nodded, the logic making sense. They pressed on, their flashlights casting long beams ahead. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent her heart racing, but the woods remained stubbornly silent, the oppressive darkness closing in around them.

After what felt like hours, Hillary stopped abruptly, holding up a hand. Russ froze beside her, his flashlight aimed at the ground. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

Hillary crouched, her beam illuminating a set of footprints in the soft earth. “Look,” she said, pointing. “Two sets.”

Russ knelt beside her, his jaw tightening as he examined the tracks. “They’re fresh,” he said. “They can’t be far.”

The two of them exchanged a glance. “Let’s go,” Hillary said, feeling suddenly unsure of what they would do if they did catch up with Michael.

They followed the tracks deeper into the woods, their flashlights cutting through the suffocating darkness. The path twisted and turned, the underbrush growing denser with every step. Hillary’s pulse pounded in her ears, each step bringing them closer to Claire—and to Michael.

“Stay alert,” Russ muttered, his voice barely audible. “If he knows we’re close, he could get desperate.”

Hillary nodded, gripping her flashlight tighter as they pressed on. The tracks were leading somewhere—and she wasn’t stopping until they found out where.

CHAPTER 32

Russ moved swiftly, his ears straining to catch every sound as they pressed deeper into the woods. The far off thrum of a helicopter echoed in the distance, its searchlight casting fleeting beams of light over the treetops. Somewhere farther away, voices called Claire’s name, the desperate cries blending with the rustling of leaves in the cool night air.

But here, in the thick undergrowth, it was eerily quiet save for the crunch of their footsteps on the forest floor. Russ tightened his grip on his flashlight, glancing at Hillary ahead of him. She moved with purpose, her party dress snagging on brambles and vines but her pace relentless. Her sneakers were the only thing saving her from a worse fate in this terrain, and Russ struggled to match her speed.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the stillness, sharp and heart-stopping. Russ froze for half a second, his breath catching in his throat.

Hillary didn’t hesitate. She took off in a sprint, her flashlight bouncing wildly as she weaved through the dense trees. “This way!” she called back over her shoulder.

Russ cursed under his breath and followed, pushing himself to keep up. Twigs and branches lashed at his face and arms, buthe barely noticed the sting. His mind raced, every nerve on edge as he tried to process what they’d just heard. Claire. That scream had to be Claire.

Another scream cut through the night, more desperate this time, and Hillary veered sharply to the right without slowing down. Russ could hear the thud of his own heartbeat in his ears, the sound mingling with the distant barking of dogs. Police search dogs, he realized. They must’ve been deployed to join the effort. The thought gave him a shred of hope, but it was quickly drowned out by the fear clawing at his chest.

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