Page 52 of A Mile of Ocean

“I’d say maybe ten hours. But three or more could get the job done in half that time. We chop up the ranch into grids and cover more ground, checking every location you deem as an area where he could hide. I’ll make the call and get it approved. Theo and Colt love any excuse to use drones.”

The next few hours were spent in Barrett’s study, mapping out unexplored areas and targeting dense woods, preparing for an exhaustive drone search. Once Colt and Theo joined theeffort, they input the waypoints into a 3D software program, uploaded the mission to the drone, and generated three diagrams to follow.

The ranch was vast, but their resolve was unwavering.

The whirring sound of the drones filled the air as they ascended from the ground, their rotors slicing through the stillness of the afternoon. The drones were equipped with high-resolution cameras and thermal imaging sensors, perfect for the meticulous job. They moved in precise, systematic patterns, sweeping over the vast expanse of the property with methodical precision.

The drone feed streamed live into Barrett’s study, where Trent and Tate monitored the screens. Each drone was assigned to a specific sector, creating a patchwork of aerial views. The images captured every detail, from a pile of leaves in the dense woods to the jagged contours of the rocky slopes. The drones swooped low over areas particularly thick with underbrush, their cameras penetrating deep into the shadows where the human eye might miss important details.

As they moved across the terrain, each operator adjusted their flight paths, ensuring no stone was left unturned, no crevice unexplored. The dense woods required slow, deliberate movements to avoid missing anything. The rocky slopes demanded careful navigation to maintain stability and clarity in the images. Every nook and cranny was scrutinized, every potential hiding spot given attention.

Occasionally, Trent and Tate would exchange tense glances, their faces illuminated by the glow of the monitors. The clock ticked on. The hours slipped away as the drones continued their relentless search. The sheer size of the ranch was daunting, but their determination unflagging.

Hours passed, and the search was painstakingly slow but thorough. Yet they found no trace of their elusive quarry.

When Savannah joined them, she noticed both siblings were fixed on the monitors. She saw the stress on their faces. “Did you two get any sleep at all?”

“Too much to do,” he replied, his mind racing, considering every possibility, every angle. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something they were missing, some clue that lay just beyond their grasp.

Tate shook her head. “After my blowup with Duchess, I couldn’t close my eyes.”

“Are you seriously considering returning to patrol tonight with no sleep? I slept for four hours, and I’m still exhausted.”

Without looking away from the monitor, Tate nodded. “I’m not sure what else we can do.”

“Have they found anything yet?”

“Not a trace of him,” Trent muttered.

Savannah skirted the desk, standing behind them to peer over their shoulders. “It is fascinating to watch the drone coverage. Where could he have gone?”

Finally, just before six o’clock, Eastlyn announced that they had finished. “There’s no sign of him anywhere.”

Colt backed her up. “We can take the footage and review it at the station. But you saw what we saw in real time. Nothing.”

“There’s no indication he returned to his original campsite,” Theo concluded. “There’s no sign of him setting up another one, either. He’s not hiding in the foothills. I think he’s taken off.”

“Maybe he did hike out of the foothills, used a trail over the mountains, and took off toward San Sebastian,” Eastlyn proposed.

“Maybe. We need to figure out if we should still keep the patrols in place. I don’t feel the timing is right yet for disbanding them,” Trent said to Tate. “Any comments or concerns?”

Tate rubbed her temples, the fatigue evident in her eyes. “We need to cover all possibilities. I’d feel better if we kept thepatrols in place for tonight, but we should also consider other options.”

“Like what?”

“What if he tricked us into thinking he’s gone?” Tate explained. “Birk and Beckett offered to stay until Thursday. I think they should.”

Eastlyn gathered the maps spread across the table. “Hawk still insists his team isn’t leaving, either.”

Tate and Trent exchanged a glance, both understanding the gravity of the situation.

“There’s something about not trusting the results,” Trent indicated. “What if he knows we’re out looking for him? He could be using tactics to avoid detection. We should probably continue the patrols at least through Thursday, keep Birk and Beckett on until then, and God willing, Hawk and his men will remain on the job.”

Savannah reached out to Trent and cupped his chin. “If the patrols are ongoing, then you need a few hours of sleep.”

“She’s right,” Tate told him. “We need to stay sharp. This guy isn’t smarter than we are. We have a couple of hours to regroup and get back out there. Make the most of it.”

“I’ll send out texts to everyone with an update.” He took out his phone and notified them to be ready by eight-forty-five. Turning to Savannah, he took her hand and gently steered her outside onto the back porch. “If we only have two hours, I want to spend them with you. By ourselves. Alone. Shut out the chaos for a while and pretend it’s just us. Too soon?”

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