Chapter 23
twenty-three
The bunkhouse became ground zero.
Nobody sat down. Nobody ate. Time had new rules now, measured in leads and lost minutes.
Ghost’s skin crawled with the need to move, to hunt, to find—but these men had a system, and for once in his life, he forced himself to trust it.
Walker hung up on his call. “Corbin Brandt is pulling strings for us at the federal level.”
That was good. Brandt was a U.S. Marshal. If anyone could get Sheriff Goodwin to cooperate, it would be him.
“River, X.” Walker pointed at the two men. “Go to the Rusty Spur, see what the drunks are flapping their lips about. I’d bet my favorite belt buckle someone there knows something. Find them.”
X nodded, already shrugging into his leather jacket. “On it, boss.”
“Don’t worry,” River added, his usual smirk finally creeping back. “We’ll kick every hornet’s nest between here and the county line if we have to.”
Boone glanced over, his phone still pressed to his ear. “Try not to start a bar fight this time.”
“No promises,” River said, following X to the door. “Some of my best intel starts with a right hook.”
Boone exhaled and dragged a hand over his beard, then pinned Walker with a scowl. “You’re asking for trouble sending them to the Spur. I’m gonna be bailing them out of jail by the night’s end.”
Boone was the only one at the Ridge who could talk to Walker that way. Nobody else would dare.
Walker just raised a brow. “You’d rather I send one of the sober guys to the bar?”
Boone grumbled, but didn’t argue. He went back to his phone conversation, barking orders at someone on the other end.
Walker turned to Jonah and Jax. “I bet they’re holding her somewhere off the grid. You two are my best riders, so take horses up the mountain and look for anything out of the ordinary. Start with the old logging roads that branch off Highway 93.”
Jonah nodded. “We’ve got it covered.”
“Anson, you good staying back and manning the command center?” Walker asked.
Anson nodded, his face grim beneath his dark beard. “I’ll keep everything running smoothly here. Just find her.”
Walker nodded his approval, then turned to Bear. “Dane, you stick with Owen and Greta.” He always used everyone’s given names, rather than nicknames. “When they find Naomi, she might need medical care.”
Bear stood by the fire, massive arms crossed over his chest, King at his feet for once behaving himself.
The big man’s expression was granite, but his eyes flickered toward Greta more than once.
She paced near the window, cell phone pressed to her ear as she coordinated with her search and rescue teams.
“What about tribal lands?” Ghost’s voice sounded strange to his own ears. Rough, like he’d swallowed glass.
Walker’s jaw tightened. “Boone and I have contacts with tribal officers. We’re heading there next. Julius Charlo is waiting with a search team.”
Julius, who had already lost his sister and was probably now losing his mind about his cousin.
Ghost’s gut twisted. “Is… he okay?”
Walker lifted his brows in surprise. Everyone else paused and looked at him with varying expressions of shock. It made his skin crawl.
“What?” he snapped.
“You’ve changed.” Jonah pointed at him with a pen. “You never ask how anyone’s holding up.”
Ghost scowled, heat prickling at the back of his neck. “Yes, I do.”
Boone snorted. “No, you really don’t.”
“Well, I’m asking now.” He couldn’t explain why he cared about Julius’s mental state. Maybe because the man was Naomi’s family. Maybe because he understood what it was like to lose someone and feel powerless to stop it.
“Julius is holding it together,” Walker said after an awkward beat. “He’s worried. Pissed off. Ready to turn the county upside-down to find her.”
“And we will find her,” Jonah said, always the optimist.
Ghost nodded, eyes fixed on the map, tracing the winding roads that led from Solace to the reservation and all the spaces between—the vast stretches of wilderness where a person could disappear forever.
His chest felt too tight. He forced himself to breathe through it.
Cinder pressed against his leg. He buried his hand in the scruff of her neck, drawing on her steadiness. She’d forgiven him faster than he deserved after his meltdown at the Hub, and he was selfishly glad for it. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.
“They’re good men,” Greta said, suddenly at his side. She’d ended her call and now watched the organized chaos with approval. “Better than this town gives them credit for.”
Ghost didn’t respond. Didn’t know how.
“My K9 team just called in,” she continued, lowering her voice. “They got a strong alert at the northeast boundary of Valor Ridge property, right where it borders Evander Cole’s land.”
Ghost’s head snapped toward her. “Cole? The hermit with the off-grid cabin?”
“That’s him.” Greta nodded, checking her watch. “Tracker says their dog lost the scent at his property line, but was very agitated. Could be something, could be nothing.”
“It’s something.” Ghost was already moving, blood humming in his veins. A lead. Finally, a fucking lead.
Boone intercepted him halfway to the door. “Slow down. We do this right or we don’t do it at all.”
Ghost bristled, but the man didn’t back down.
“We’ve got no concrete reason to search Cole’s property,” Boone continued. “And he’s not exactly the friendly type, especially not with us.”
Ghost was aware Evander Cole had history with the Ridge, but it had happened before he arrived, and he’d never been able to find out the details.
All he knew for sure was that Cole ran on his first night at the ranch, like all new guys did, and he was the one man Boone hadn’t been able to talk into coming back.
“I don’t give a shit about Cole’s property,” he snarled. “If she’s there—”
Walker’s voice cut in. “Evander’s dangerous, but he’s not unreasonable. Greta, you’ve worked with him before?”
She nodded. “He takes hunters out into the backcountry for me sometimes. We’re... not friends, but he doesn’t immediately try to shoot me when I knock.” A small, strained smile. “Usually.”
“Then you three go,” Walker decided. “Greta, take point. Dane, Owen, you follow her lead. Cole respects her. He might talk if she’s there.”
Ghost wanted to argue—he wasn’t used to following anyone’s lead—but the urgency of finding Naomi outweighed his pride.
Greta was already by the door, double-checking her backpack. “Got a horse for me?”
“Take Dakota,” Boone said. “He’s solid in rough country.”
“Perfect.” Greta slung her pack and strode out into the bright morning. “Let’s go.”