Page 93 of All Along The Watchtower

I reached into the hollow, and my fingers touched smooth plastic. Pulling it free, I found a zip-top bag in my hand. Inside, I could make out a notebook and something else folded beside it. My hands shook. I didn’t need to open it to know that this was Peyton’s map. She took it everywhere, keeping it close like some kind of security blanket or talisman.

“What is it?” Bree asked, moving closer.

“Peyton’s map. And I think these are Ed’s notes. Her notes.” I held the bag carefully, not wanting to damage the contents. “She wouldn’t have left these behind willingly.”

Bree called out. Sawyer, Willa, Daniel, and Gabi converged on our location.

I held up the bag. “She was here. This was stuffed in the knot of that tree.”

Daniel frowned. “Why’d she shove it in there?” Concern deepened his Louisiana drawl.

“Hiding it from somebody. Nothing else makes sense.” I turned a circle. “If they were on their own up to this point and then heard someone coming, she could have shoved it in there in a hurry.” My kid was nothing if not resourceful. Her cross-country trip from Oregon proved that.

“She must have thought whoever was coming was a threat, otherwise why hide it?” Gabi said.

“And she hasn’t come back for it, so maybe she was right.” Daniel’s tone was grim. “Fan out. Maybe we’ll find some sign of which way they went.”

“Can I see that?” Bree held out her hand for the bag.

I was reluctant to let go of this last connection to Peyton, but did as she asked before turning back to the search.

“Over here!” Sawyer’s voice cut through the drumming rain.

My heart seized as I splashed through puddles toward him. He stood beneath a massive live oak, examining something caught in the lower branches.

“What is it?” My voice sounded strange in my own ears.

He pointed his flashlight at a scrap of purple fabric snagged on rough bark. “This looks like the shirt Peyton was wearing today.”

I reached out with trembling fingers to touch the torn cloth.

“There’s more.” Sawyer swept his beam across the ground. Broken branches. Churned mud. Signs of bodies hitting the ground hard. My stomach lurched as I pictured my daughter struggling against whoever had grabbed her.

“Two sets of adult-sized boot prints.” Sawyer crouched to examine the mud more closely. “Looks like they came from that direction.” He gestured toward the deeper woods. “The girls’ tracks stop here.”

I braced myself against the oak’s trunk, bile rising in my throat. This was my nightmare made real. Someone had taken my daughter. Those federal agents had been right. She’d been a target all along.

“Ford!” Bree’s sharp voice pulled me out of the fear spiral. “You need to see this.”

I hustled back to where she huddled with Gabi and Willa, the notebook open. Their faces were lit by the harsh glow of phone flashlights, casting deep shadows across their worried expressions.

“Read it.” She thrust the book toward me with trembling hands.

“I don’t think now is the time to review her thoughts on a treasure hunt.” My blood beat a frantic rhythm, urging me toact, even though I didn’t know where or how. Every second we wasted here was another second my daughter could be getting further away.

“It’s not her thoughts on the treasure hunt.”

I scanned Peyton’s neat handwriting. The pages were filled with her careful observations, each entry dated and cross-referenced like she was building a case.

“Look here.” Bree’s finger landed on a page headed ‘Island Crime Timeline.’ Her nail tapped against the paper with increasing urgency.

Below it, Peyton had meticulously documented every break-in and search that had occurred since David Galef’s murder. She’d drawn arrows connecting seemingly random events, creating a pattern I hadn’t seen before. My daughter, it seemed, had been paying far more attention to the island’s troubles than any of us had realized.

Theory: Someone’s searching for something specific. But what?

On the next page, she’d noted:

The map was created by Hillary Russell. Signature hidden in the artwork. She was David Galef’s ex-girlfriend. Coincidence?

---