Chapter 45
Wyatt kept his expression neutral and his hands on the wheel. There was no reason to alarm Kori until he was certain.
He checked the mirror again. The headlights were high and wide—a truck, most likely. The beams were slightly uneven, the left one aimed a fraction higher than the right.
Something shifted at the base of his neck.
He’d seen that uneven beam pattern before.
Outside the restaurant tonight, he realized. Whoever had been watching him was back, determined to finish whatever it was he’d started.
Lord, not now. Not with Kori in the truck.
He pressed the accelerator harder.
This time Kori glanced at him. “Anxious to get home?”
“I’m fine.” He kept his voice even. “Just watching the road.”
She nodded and looked back out her window.
Wyatt checked his mirrors once more.
The driver behind them accelerated.
He couldn’t outrun this vehicle on this highway. Not safely, at least. And not in the dark on a road still littered with patches of ice from the last storm.
The next turnoff was three miles ahead.
Three miles was a long way in these conditions.
The truck pulled into the oncoming lane.
Wyatt tracked the driver in his peripheral vision. He kept his hands steady on the wheel, every muscle coiled and ready.
For a suspended second the vehicle ran parallel to them—close enough that Wyatt could see the outline of the cab and the dark shape of a driver behind the tinted glass.
Then it cut hard to the right.
“Wyatt!” Kori’s voice was sharp.
“Hold on!” He wrenched the wheel toward the shoulder, fighting the instinct to overcorrect as gravel sprayed beneath the tires and trees rushed toward them in the headlights.
The truck fishtailed on a patch of ice. Kori gasped and reached for the grab bar above her.
He steered into the turn and felt the rear end catch.
Thunder scrambled in the back seat.
The passenger side mirror clipped a low-lying branch and snapped back.
Then the tires found pavement again, and the truck straightened.
Wyatt stood on the brakes and brought them to a hard stop on the narrow shoulder.
Silence stretched in the aftermath.
He gripped the wheel still, unable to move.
Beside him, Kori sat rigid with both of her palms flat against the dashboard.
He glanced out the window, his heart still pounding out of control.
The road was empty.
The other driver had kept going.
He exhaled and loosened his grip on the wheel finger by finger.
“Are you okay?” He glanced at Kori again.
She stared through the windshield, breathing heavy. “That was intentional.”
“Yes, it was.”
“That driver must have followed us from the staging area.”
“Probably.”
She turned and looked at him. “What’s going on, Wyatt?”
His lips tugged down in a frown. “I wish I knew. I really do.”
Kori’s hands shook.
She pressed them flat against her thighs and willed them to stop. But her body wasn’t interested in cooperating. Adrenaline still moved through her in waves, hot and electric, and there wasn’t anywhere for it to go.
She watched Wyatt on the phone.
He’d called Micah.
As they talked, she looked through the windshield at the empty road. The trees on both sides stood dark and still. No headlights appeared from either direction.
Whoever had run them off the road was long gone.
Her stomach turned.
Thunder’s head appeared between the front seats. He looked at her with his steady eyes, and she reached without thinking to put her hand on his face.
He stayed there and let her.
She focused on his warmth and made herself breathe.
Wyatt ended the call and turned back to her. “Micah has a unit looking for the truck. Same description as the one outside the restaurant tonight.”
“It’s the same vehicle?”
“I’m almost certain it is.”
She nodded and looked back at the road. “Whoever this guy is, he’s been following us all evening.”
“Since the hospital at least.” His voice was careful. “Possibly longer.”
She thought about the man watching them from the sidewalk outside the restaurant. About the drive to the staging area on the logging road with its single lane and its dark trees on both sides.
The man had opportunities to strike before this one.
“Why now?” she asked. “Why this road, this late?”
“Because earlier there were too many people around. Out here there’s no one.”
His words made sense.
The highway remained empty in both directions, the white center line fading into darkness.
She thought about what would have happened if Wyatt hadn’t been watching his mirrors. If his hands hadn’t been as steady as they were. If the shoulder had been a few feet narrower.
“You doing okay?” Wyatt murmured as he gazed at her.
She considered the question before answering. “I’ve been frightened for days. I’ve been exhausted and worried and heartbroken.” Her jaw tightened. “And my sister is somewhere in those mountains with these people.”
Wyatt let Kori talk, not interrupting.
“I’m angry.” She looked out the window again. “And I’m scared. I don’t say that easily.”
“I know you don’t.”
“I’m scared that we’re running out of time. That the storm will come, and we won’t have found Mackenzie. That whatever these people need her for—” Her voice caught. “That they’ll decide they’re done needing her.”
Wyatt reached across and put his hand over hers where it rested on the seat beside her. He didn’t say anything. He left it there a moment, warm and steady.
Then he squeezed once and pulled his hand back. “We’re not done. And neither is she.”
Kori looked at him.
He meant his words. Kori could see that truth plainly. This wasn’t reassurance for its own sake—it was a statement of intent.
She appreciated that more than she could express.