Chapter 10 Forest
Forest
The cabin sat at the edge of the world.
We parked a mile out, hiked the rest under the cover of trees, the moon breaking through in thin silver slants. Fraiser had his rifle slung over his back, muttering about coordinates while I kept my eyes on the dark windows ahead.
“Power’s on,” Fraiser whispered.
“Means nothing,” I said.
It could mean he was here. Could mean he left it on so it looked like he was here. Either way, my gut wasn’t liking it.
We crouched low at the tree line. The place was quiet. Too quiet.
I scanned the yard—gravel drive, one beat-up truck, trash cans by the porch. A wind chime tapped lazily against the gutter, the only sound in the whole damn woods.
“Something’s off,” I murmured.
Fraiser adjusted the scope on his rifle. “No movement. Not a shadow.”
“That’s what’s wrong.”
Guys like Jarod Kennedy didn’t leave things this neat unless they wanted you to walk right in.
We circled the place slow, checked the back windows. Inside, the cabin was dark but not empty. A table with maps spread across it. A laptop is still open. Beer cans are stacked in the sink.
“Either he’s here,” Fraiser said, “or he left in a hurry.”
I shook my head. “Not in a hurry. A plan.”
Because everything in that cabin screamed control. Not chaos.
And that meant Jarod Kennedy knew we were coming.
“Look at this,” Fraiser said, nodding toward a corkboard by the far wall.
Photos.
Not just of Jenny.
Of Liam. Poppy. Even me and Fraiser, from when we stopped for gas earlier today.
“Son of a—” Fraiser hissed.
“He’s ahead of us,” I said flatly.
Because he wasn’t just hunting Jenny anymore. He was watching anyone who stood between him and what he wanted.
And that meant the clock just started ticking a whole lot faster.