Chapter 27
Hunter
I killed the engine of Jada’s car and sat outside the cabin for a beat, letting the silence settle before pushing the door open.
The sun hadn’t fully crested the trees yet, but pale gold light bled over the horizon and across the cabin’s gravel drive. My legs and back were feeling it from driving all night, but none of that mattered. I just needed to see Jada.
I’d called twice—maybe three times—on the road up from Colorado, but there hadn’t been any answer. I figured she was working at Pawsitive Connections and keeping herself busy. Lark didn’t like phones in the animal barn. Fair enough.
I twisted the key in the door and stepped inside. The place was quiet. Still. But not the kind of still you got in the early morning when everything was just starting to wake up. This was…off.
I didn’t move at first. Just stood inside the door and listened. Nothing. I crouched beside the cardboard box we’d tucked in the corner and found it empty. Had she decided to sleep with them? That had happened once.
“Jada?” I called, already heading down the short hall to the bedroom. The door was open, lights off, bed made. No sign of her.
I backed out slowly, hands on my hips, brain shifting gears. Maybe she got called in to Pawsitive early. Could she have taken the kittens with her?
I needed to try to call her again. I started to turn, but then?—
Meow.
I froze. Another tiny meow followed it, coming from somewhere low and to the right. I dropped to my knees and tilted my head under the couch.
All three kittens were wedged together under there, eyes wide, trembling little bodies curled into one another like they were hiding from the boogeyman.
“Hey,” I murmured. “What are you guys doing under there?”
I coaxed them out one by one, brushing dirt off their fur as I placed them back in their box. Once in their normal spot, Moose and Biscuits almost immediately curled in on one another and went to sleep. Sir Pounce just looked at me with his big eyes, so I picked him back up.
Balancing the kitten in the crook of my arm, I had my phone out to call Jada again when I saw the note centered on the counter. Just a scrap of notebook paper. Torn edge. Folded once, slanted handwriting in pen.
I shifted the kitten again and reached for it, hand already twitching before I’d even unfolded the damn thing.
I couldn’t stay.
I’ve decided this isn’t what I want.
That was it. Ten words plus her name. No salutation. No explanation.
Just a blow straight to the gut.
I stared at the note, waiting for the words to rearrange themselves into something that made sense. They didn’t. I read it again anyway. Then again.
I’ve decided this isn’t what I want.
My jaw clenched as I looked around, suddenly seeing the kitchen with clearer eyes. Jada’s bag was gone, as well as her coat.
I set the kitten back into the box with his siblings and turned slowly toward the corner of the counter. The vial was still there. Unmoved, resting against the back of the kitchen counter. My gut clenched at the sight of it. She hadn’t decided to take the antidote—thank God.
But I had to admit I was surprised she’d left that behind. The last we’d talked, she was against taking it but still hadn’t discounted it completely. I couldn’t believe she’d robbed herself of the option by leaving it here.
I couldn’t believe I was so pathetic to think that if it was still here, maybe she’d come back to get it. Maybe I could talk some sense into her. Maybe we could work through whatever had spooked her and figure it out together.
I rubbed a hand down my face and stepped out the front door. My truck was still right where I parked it. Which begged a whole new question—how the hell did she leave?
And why hadn’t she waited one more day for me to return? She would’ve had so much more. Her car. Her clothes. Her passport, birth certificate, insurance papers.
Unless this whole time, she’d been waiting for me to go so she could run.
But that didn’t track either. Not with the way she’d clung to me at night. Not with the way she smiled when she didn’t think I was looking.
And what about the kittens? She hadn’t known when I would be getting home, and I couldn’t believe she would’ve just left them out like that where they might have gotten out of the cabin or even hurt. Even if she’d wanted to avoid any confrontation with me, I couldn’t believe she would’ve left them helpless.
I was going to get to the bottom of this. The kittens mewled in protest as I grabbed them in their box, walked out, and set it in Jada’s car since it was still warm. I started it, shoved the gear into reverse and backed out fast enough to send gravel skittering into the brush.
The drive to Pawsitive Connections only took a couple minutes. The early-morning fog still clung low to the ground, and the rising sun kept blinking through the trees like a strobe light. The whole world felt wrong.
I pulled into the gravel lot just as Lark stepped out of the barn, her auburn braid slung over one shoulder and a feed bucket swinging from her hand. She squinted toward the car, then waved when she saw it was me.
“You’re back early,” she called. “Jada wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”
I didn’t waste time. I rounded the hood of the car and met her halfway. “Is she here?”
Lark’s brow knit. “No, she worked yesterday, but I didn’t see her much. I had to drive into Missoula for supplies. Was gone most of the day. Why?”
“She wasn’t at the cabin when I got in.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the note. “Found this on the counter.”
She read it twice. Her frown deepened with each pass.
“She’s leaving? Just like that? No goodbyes, didn’t even want to stop by and get paid for the work she’d done? That doesn’t make sense.” She looked up, eyes sharp. “She was asking me about permanent part-time work a couple days ago. Wanted to help train the smaller animals. Said it made her feel…settled.”
I nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. Something must have spooked her pretty bad.”
“And she just left the kittens?”
I jerked my chin toward the box in the car. “They were under the couch. Scared out of their minds.”
Lark’s lips pressed into a thin line. “She was obsessed with those babies. Kept asking if we could find a way to keep them all together.”
“She didn’t even have a way to leave,” I said, my voice dropping. “My truck’s still parked out front. And I was driving her car from Colorado. She would’ve had to hitchhike or something.”
The thought of how dangerous that could be had a cold sweat breaking out along his spine. No matter how badly something had scared her, she shouldn’t have just jumped into a vehicle with a stranger.
Maybe she hadn’t. The night of family dinner, Evelyn had offered to find Jada a car if she decided she wanted to leave. She hadn’t wanted Jada to feel trapped. Maybe she had taken Evelyn up on it.
Maybe Evelyn would know where Jada was going.
“Something doesn’t feel right here, Hunter.”
I nodded. “Let’s start making some calls. See what we can find out.”
I pulled out my phone, and Lark did the same as she carried the box of kittens to the warmer barn. I got in the car to ward off the cold and called my cousin Lucas. He picked up on the second ring.
“If this is you finally accepting the job to head up Warrior Security, I want it in writing before you change your mind.”
I exhaled hard through my nose. “Not exactly.”
His tone shifted fast. “What’s going on?”
“Jada’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“She left a note,” I said, pressing the folded paper against the steering wheel. “Said she couldn’t stay. That this wasn’t what she wanted.”
A beat of silence passed on the line.
“She left the kittens behind without making sure they were cared for. So in my mind, that means she got pretty fucking spooked and ran without thinking things through. Can you ask Evelyn if she arranged a vehicle for Jada?”
He let out a slow breath. “Shit. Hang on.”
I heard muffled movement, voices in the background. A moment later, Lucas came back. “Evie says no, that she hasn’t talked to Jada since you guys snuck out of family dinner for your lovefest.”
Okay, no vehicle. Making even less sense. I rubbed at my forehead.
“Any chance things went south with Kenzie and they had some kind of confrontation?”
“Hold on.” Once again, muffled voices. “Evie says no. Kenzie’s been fine. If something had gone sideways, she would’ve heard about it. You know how the group chat lights up.”
“Yeah.” I stared out at the barn, thumb tapping absently against the wheel.
“How can I help?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “It all keeps coming back to the kittens. I wouldn’t like it, but I could understand if she just panicked and decided she couldn’t stay. But leaving them helpless? They’re like her babies.”
There was another beat of silence. “Mothers sometimes leave their children. It’s a shitty fact, but it’s still true. Maybe Jada cracked in some way while you were gone. Maybe she’s not even aware of what she’s doing.”
That was an even more terrifying thought.
“All I know is that this doesn’t sit right in my gut.”
Lucas didn’t hesitate. “I trust your gut. If you say something’s not right, then we treat it as such. I’ll get everybody up and on it. If she’s on foot, she could have gotten only so far. We’ll see what we can find.”
Relief flooded through me. I wanted as many eyes looking for Jada as possible. “I appreciate it, Lucas.”
“And for the record? This is why we need Warrior Security. Shit like this? It’s always gonna find us.”
“We find Jada safe, and I promise I will seriously consider it.” Although if Jada was gone, I didn’t know if I’d be able to stick around.
We hung up, and I got back out of the car. Lark was still on the phone when I looked over. She paced near the barn, one hand on her hip, a crease between her brows as she listened intently. When she caught sight of me, she shook her head—nothing yet.
I hesitated, phone still in my hand, thumb hovering over my contacts. I didn’t like this next call. I didn’t like dragging law enforcement into anything unless it was absolutely necessary. But if there was even a chance that Jada had run because of a warrant or some new legal firestorm coming her way… I needed to know.
I found Lachlan’s name and hit dial.
He answered after a few rings, voice groggy. “This better be good. I didn’t get in till almost one. Some jackass flipped his pickup into a ditch and took out half a fence line. Cattle everywhere.”
“It’s Hunter Everett.”
“Hunter.” He sounded more awake. “What’s up?”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “I’m concerned about Jada. She?—”
“She still shaken up about the interview yesterday?”
My spine snapped straight. “What interview?”
“Two detectives came by from out of state yesterday afternoon. Said they had questions for her.”
Cops from out of state? Everything Caleb had said about cops visiting him a few days ago asking weird questions about Jada danced around in my head. Was it the same ones?
“Were they threatening arrest?”
“No, said it was routine follow-up about Alan Ard’s death. Why, is she worried? I watched the interview and thought she handled it fine. Said her memory loss was from trauma—they didn’t push for more details. They left right after the interview. I brought Jada home myself.”
“You brought her home?” Then Lachlan would’ve been the last one to see her. “How was she? Was she upset?”
“Not really. Tired, I guess? Felt like she’d dodged a bullet with the other officers, maybe. But not upset. Why? What’s going on?”
“Jada is gone.”
“What do you mean gone ?”
My jaw was locked tight. “She left a note, saying she couldn’t stay. And I get it, Lachlan. There’re a lot of factors surrounding Jada and her situation that might cause her to bolt. But this isn’t sitting right with me.” I explained my argument: not being willing to wait one more day when it would’ve given her so much more to start a life with—clothes, car, ID.
And then especially the kittens.
Another long pause. Then Lachlan’s voice sharpened. “Yeah, I agree. Something’s not right here. Meet me at the station as quick as you can get there. We’ll go through the interview recording together. Maybe you’ll see something I missed.”
“I’m on my way.”