Chapter 7
Max waited until Hadley was gone before he headed back outside to meet Sheriff Sutherland and Caleb by the gate. He needed to call Stephen, but he wanted something more definitive to tell his friend first.
Max slowed as he approached the two men. “Anything new?”
Caleb shook his head. “We went back over the footage. Same thing as before. She climbs over the gate and heads out. The camera didn’t catch any vehicles.”
“I’m going to take a look along the road,” Sheriff Sutherland said. “Maybe there are some footprints.”
“I can help.” Max stepped past him.
They walked past the gate and paused near the road. The snow here was thinner, packed down in places where vehicles had come through and softer along the edges where it hadn’t been disturbed.
Sheriff Sutherland nodded toward the stretch of road leading out from the gate. “She came this way.”
Max was already moving, his attention locked on the ground as he followed the edge of the asphalt.
The wind had picked up just enough to blur things. Not enough to erase tracks completely—but enough to make them harder to read. Tire marks overlapped in places. Footprints broke apart and disappeared where the snow thinned.
He slowed, scanning carefully.
There had to be some kind of sign she’d been here.
He stepped off the pavement and onto the shoulder, his boots crunching through the softer snow. He crouched, studying a set of partial impressions. But they were too shallow and distorted.
Max stood again, his jaw tightening as he headed a few steps farther down the road. His gaze swept back and forth, catching on every shadow, every uneven patch of ground.
Nothing.
For a second, unease crept in.
What if they were too late?
What if there was nothing to find?
He pushed the thought away and kept moving.
Then something caught his eye—a break in the pattern.
A darker shape lay near the edge of the pavement, half-hidden where the snow had drifted unevenly.
Max’s focus sharpened as he stepped closer.
He crouched beside the object, brushing a thin layer of snow aside with his gloved hand.
A phone.
The screen was cracked along one side, a jagged line running from corner to corner.
“Sheriff Sutherland,” he called.
Footsteps approached behind him. “You find something?”
Max nodded at the phone. “Think this was Lyndee’s?”
Sheriff Sutherland crouched beside him and examined the device. “Maybe. It hasn’t been here long.”
“My thoughts too.”
Sheriff Sutherland frowned as he stared at it. “Looks like it took a hit.”
Max glanced back toward the road. “In other words, someone didn’t just drop it here.”
“No,” Sheriff Sutherland agreed. “Most likely, someone tossed it.”
Caleb joined them. “So what are you thinking?”
The sheriff’s gaze tracked the direction Lyndee would’ve come from. “She climbs the gate. Comes out here.” He gestured toward the phone. “Someone was waiting for her just out of sight and wanted to make sure her location wasn’t tracked.”
Max didn’t like the sound of that.
Sheriff Sutherland pulled on some gloves before slipping the phone into an evidence bag from his pocket. Then he hit the screen.
To Max’s surprise, it lit. A message appeared on the screen.
Come outside now, or I’ll burn the whole place down.
His breath caught. “He threatened her.”
“He threatened all of you,” Sheriff Sutherland muttered with the shake of his head. “We’ll see if we can get anything else off it. Incoming and outgoing calls, texts, location timeline—anything that helps.”
Max dragged a hand over the back of his neck, the weight of everything pulling taut in his muscles.
He knew he wasn’t personally responsible for Lyndee leaving, but he liked to think of himself as the guardian of this place. Max liked to keep an eye on things. He’d promised Stephen he’d help his sister.
And last night he’d failed.
Hadley tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she turned onto Main Street.
Max’s face flickered through her mind.
Again, she wondered what had happened between him and Kendra. Whatever history they carried, it wasn’t something she needed to untangle, she reminded herself.
Besides, finding Lyndee was the most important thing.
There was a lot going on, and the day had only started.
Please, Lord . . . be with Lyndee. Keep her safe. Keep everyone safe.
She swung by The Grind House to get some coffee and a muffin. After chatting for a few minutes with Jess, her favorite barista, Hadley headed to her clinic.
Blue Ridge Hollow Animal Care Clinic was farther down Main Street, tucked between a small bookstore and an art gallery.
The building’s brick exterior was worn just enough to give it character, and the picture windows at the front looked inviting.
If you looked close enough, you could still see “Main Street Antiques” etched onto the glass behind the clinic’s name.
Inside, the space had been updated, but the bones of it remained—high ceilings, dark wood trim, and floors that creaked no matter how carefully you stepped.
Then there were the personal touches she’d added. The quirky pictures of dogs and cats. The funny gifts she’d been given over the years were displayed on the shelves, including her favorite: a coffee mug that read The Dogtor Is In.
Hadley paused and smiled. This was hers. Her own practice.
She’d opened a month ago, but the exhilarating feeling hadn’t faded. Every time she stepped inside, something in her chest lifted. She still couldn’t quite believe this place was hers.
Down in Georgia, she’d worked in a busy practice with eight other vets. Their schedule was always crammed with appointments. She’d learned a lot there, but she’d also gotten used to being one voice among many. Here, things were quieter. Slower. The decisions were hers—and the responsibility too.
For the first time in a long while, that felt right.
“Morning!” Susie Smith—her receptionist and vet tech—called from the front desk before Hadley had fully closed the door behind her.
Hadley smiled as she set her coffee on the counter—and the second cup beside it. “Morning. I come bearing caffeine.”
Susie sat behind the desk, a stack of files already neatly arranged to one side. “You’ve got your first appointment waiting. Exam room one.”
Hadley glanced toward the hallway, a small flicker of anticipation settling in. First appointments were usually straightforward—routine checkups, vaccinations, nothing complicated.
“Thanks,” she said, sliding one of the cups toward Susie before grabbing the chart.
The name at the top made her pause.
Travis Henderson.
She’d heard her cousins mention the man before—and never in a good way.
She paused a second longer before she pushed the thought aside and headed down the hall.
The door to exam room one was already closed.
Hadley knocked lightly before stepping inside.
A man stood near the counter, one hand resting on a cat carrier. He looked up as she entered, his gaze settling on her with a quick assessment that felt . . . deliberate.
“Mr. Henderson?” she asked.
“That’s me.” His voice was easy enough, but there was something behind it that didn’t quite match the casual tone.
Hadley offered a polite smile. “I’m Dr. Chase. Who do we have here with us today?”
He tapped the carrier lightly. “My girlfriend’s cat has been acting off.”
Hadley stepped closer, crouching as she peered through the grated door. A gray tabby stared back at her, wide-eyed and alert. “What’s her name?”
“Luna.”
Hadley nodded, opening the carrier carefully and easing the cat out onto the exam table. Luna stiffened at first but didn’t fight, her ears flicking as Hadley began a gentle exam.
Hadley listened to the cat’s heartbeat, then checked her gums, her eyes, her abdomen. Nothing immediately alarming.
But the way Travis kept staring at her made her skin crawl, and she had the feeling his presence here was intentional—and not because he was worried about this cat.