Page 115 of Love Me Fearless

Zach gives an impatient huff. “Hutch. If this is a crime scene?—”

I pass through the kitchen to the bedrooms separated by a bathroom in the back of the house. All three doors are open. And empty. There’s nothing of hers visible. Doubt creeps further into my thoughts.

Where, where, where?

I spin around on the faded shag carpeting. There’s a closet between the kitchen and living room, but when I snatch the handle and tug it open, I find only shelves of towels and linens and knickknacks.

“The house is clear,” Zach says into his radio, his eyes locked on mine.

“Shit!” I put my hands on my hips, my mind racing.

“There was a trail in the back yard,” Zach says.

“Tracks?”

Zach shakes his head. “Don’t know. I was focused on the house.”

I try to center my thoughts, but Zach’s radio erupts. “Hayes, report.”

It’s the sheriff.

“We’re going to check the trail in the back yard,” Zach says into his radio.

Leaving the house feels wrong, but maybe moving will help me think. Zach opens the back door and we file down a rickety, narrow set of steps to the soft ground. Thick, tall cottonwoods interspersed with fir and alders crowd in from all sides, but a path leads straight, towards the river.

“Ava!” I call out, then force myself to be still so I can listen.

Unease tickles my gut, but I swallow it down. I have to believe Ava’s alive. Everett escorted her home less than two hours ago. As much as it sickens me to consider it, that would not give Jeremy enough time to…

Zach hurries ahead, his boots sinking into the soupy ground. I force my mind to refocus. Were Jeremy’s shoes muddy when he was led from the house? Was there mud on the front stoop?

I follow Zach, but the farther we get from the house, squelching through mud, the farther away from Ava I feel. But what if that’s just my mind, refusing to consider the worst? The river would be an obvious place to dispose?—

No. I won’t think that.

Zach squats down to inspect the muddy trail leading into the woods. Tread from what looks like large boot prints are barely visible.

I’m no tracker, but these prints look old. And the grass flanking the trail doesn’t look trampled.

“Fuck this,” I grit out, and turn around.

“Hutch!” Zach calls out, but I’m done guessing.

I take off, anger and frustration fueling my momentum, and sprint past the side of the house. Luke is pacing next to his cruiser, one hand on the radio he’s barking into and the other gripping his hip. Everett is in his blue SUV, likely keeping watch on Jeremy.

Luke’s eyes fill with concern as I race past him and yank open the back door of the SUV. Fury fizzling in my veins, I reach in and grab Jeremy by his shirt and yank him from the backseat.

“Hey!” Luke cries at the same time Everett jumps out from the front seat, eyes dark.

But I’m not going to let them stop me.

“Where the hell is she?” I slam Jeremy against the side of the cruiser. He turns his head away, like he doesn’t want to look at me. “Where, you piece of shit!”

His lips curl in a half sneer, his eyes fixed on some distant point. It flashes so quick I almost miss it.

“That’s enough, Hutch!” Luke tears me from Jeremy as Everett ushers him into the back of the SUV.

“She’s here, damn it!” I wrestle against Luke’s hold.

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