Page 75 of Can You Take It?

“Thank you,” Noah says, and we move on to a group of teenagers hanging out nearby.

“Hey, guys, sorry to bother you,” Colton begins, showing them the picture of Luna. “Have any of you seen this girl driving around recently?”

They glance at the photo, exchanging uncertain looks. One of them finally speaks up, “I think I saw a car like that near the woods earlier. Why?”

Noah grabs the kid by the shoulders. “Take us there. Now.”

The group guides us towards the edge of the woods. Luna could be anywhere in there, and time is slipping away like sand through our fingers.

We push deeper into the woods, and Luna’s car comes into view. My heart nearly sinks into my stomach. Did she crash? Or did someone force her off the road? For the first time, I don’t have the courage to look inside. Part of me is terrified of what I might find, hoping against hope that she isn’t in there.

I take a look closer and notice that it’s not parked neatly; it’s covered with tree branches, like someone deliberately trashed it.

“What the fuck?” Noah mutters, eyeing the car with suspicion.

Colton steps forward, his eyes scanning the vehicle. “Looks like someone had a field day with Luna’s car. Asshole probably did this on purpose.”

We approach the car, and it becomes evident that this is no ordinary vandalism. The branches are strategically placed, as if someone wanted to hide the car. We start clearing them, revealing the driver’s side.

I open the door cautiously, half-expecting to find Luna inside. But the driver’s seat is empty. Relief floods through me, so intense it almost knocks me off my feet. She’s not here. Thank God, she’s not here.

Noah, his face hardening, mutters, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Gloves, guys. We need to check for any clues,” I say.

We quickly slip on the gloves as we search the car. Underneath the seats and scattered around the floor, we find fragments of something bone-chilling. A skull, a few scattered bones, and the unmistakable remains of a human skeleton.

“What the fuck?” I mutter.

Colton, staring at the macabre scene, hisses, “This is sick. Someone dumped a dead body in Luna’s car.”

“And it’s been here for a long fucking time,” Noah adds.

“Or someone staged it,” I say, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Who would do this to her?”

“Someone who has her,” I reply, feeling a cold dread settle over me. But why dump a skeleton?

I turn to Colton. “Call for the forensics. We need this shit sorted out.”

Colton nods and pulls out his phone to make the call. The woods echo with the urgency of the situation, and every second feels like an eternity.

Noah takes a deep breath. “I’ll call the local PD.”

I give him a grim nod. “Do it, Noah. And tell them to hurry their asses here.”

As Colton makes the call and Noah barks into his phone, I find a secluded spot and dial Wilson. There’s no time for niceties, so I get straight to the point.

“Wilson here.”

“We’ve got a situation,” I spit out. “Luna’s car, it’s a fucking crime scene. I need backup, forensics, the whole damn cavalry.”

“I’ll get the team ready. Keep me updated, Reynolds.”

Within what feels like both an eternity and a blink, the forensics arrive. They roll in like a well-oiled machine, and I guide them to the scene.

They click photographs, measure distances, and document every detail. The local homicide detective is called in, a grizzled veteran with eyes that have seen too much.

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