“I will,” Ryan promised.

Sharp disconnected. He looked up to see that Stella had walked back into his office. She was staring at him, grim-faced.

His heart stuttered, and his stomach curled up in a defensive ball. “What?”

“Olivia’s car was spotted about twenty minutes from here.”

Sharp jumped to his feet. “Where? Is she in the car?”

Stella held up one hand. “They don’t know yet. It’s in a ravine.”

He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him light-headed. A moment later, Stella was holding his arm, but he hadn’t noticed her walk closer.

Had Olivia been in a ravine, dead, for the past two and a half days? Could she be alive? People had survived longer. So many thoughts, hopeful and dire, ricocheted through his head. Sharp could barely form questions.

He sputtered, “What condition is the car in?”

“I don’t know.” Stella shook her head. “I spoke to the state trooper on scene. They can only see the rear bumper. It looks like the car went off the road just before the bridge. The trooper was driving by, noticed snapped saplings, and pulled over. The incline is steep and covered with trees and brush. They’re going to need rappelling gear to get down to the car.”

Sharp headed for the door on shaky legs.

Stella lifted his jacket from his coat hook and handed it to him. “Why don’t you call Lance and let him know?”

He nodded. His throat felt rusty, and he couldn’t form words. In silence, he put on his jacket. Adrenaline pumped through his system, and his pulse felt thin and too quick. Nausea churned in his empty belly as he led the way out of the building and locked the back door. In the passenger seat of Stella’s cop car, he used his phone app to engage the office security system. He performed these functions on automatic pilot. His brain was consumed with only one train of thought.

In what condition would they find Olivia?

His thumb sat poised over the buttons to call Lance. It felt stupid, but he hoped Lance could get to the crash site. He was the closest thing Sharp had to family.

In thirty minutes, would he know whether she was alive or dead? And would he then wish he didn’t know?

What if not knowing was better?

Stella had her radio turned low. He stared out the windshield and listened to the soft chatter. She drove out of town and picked up speed on the interstate. He wanted her to drive faster, but at the same time, he didn’t.

Because most of all, he was dreading arriving on scene in time to identify Olivia’s dead body.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lance pulled over behind two state trooper vehicles and Stella’s dark-blue cop car. “I don’t even know what to hope for.”

“Neither do I.” In the passenger seat of the Jeep, Morgan exchanged her heels for the flats from her giant bag. “What could this mean?”

“I don’t know. Let’s wait and see what we find in the car.” He glanced at her. She was shivering. “There’s a warmer jacket in the back.”

They’d been close to Scarlet Falls when Sharp had called. Lance had changed course to head west toward the crash site. Then he’d pushed the Jeep to ninety.

They climbed out of the Jeep. Morgan opened the hatch and exchanged her wool jacket for his heavier coat. It was wind- and waterproof. She pulled gloves from one pocket and a hat from the other.

Lance spotted Sharp and Stella behind the ambulance and hurried over. Sharp’s face was as white as the line running down the shoulder of the road. Stella introduced the two troopers. Lance didn’t catch their names. He was focused on Sharp—his pallor and the darkness swirling behind his gray eyes. Then Lance moved to the side of the road and looked over the edge.

He tracked a line of broken underbrush and small trees. At least forty feet down, a white car was ass end up. The vehicle appeared to have been stopped by a stand of large trees. The first half of the descent was steep, but then the slope dropped straight down for the last twenty-five feet. They definitely needed rappelling equipment.

Could anyone have survived that crash?

“We just got here a few minutes ago,” Stella said. “A fire crew is en route with rescue gear.”

Trooper One said, “ETA is ten minutes.”

Sharp pointed toward the ravine. “That’s my girlfriend’s vehicle. I’m not waiting. I’m going down.” He moved away from the group. He turned to Lance. “You have rope in your Jeep?”

“I do.” Lance pivoted. There was no changing Sharp’s mind. If it had been Morgan’s car in that ravine, nothing could have stopped Lance from climbing down. Nothing. But he wasn’t going to let any harm come to Sharp either. “I’m going down with you.”

“Thanks.”

Lance opened the cargo area of his Jeep. He kept his vehicle stocked with emergency supplies, and this was not the first time he’d needed to use them. He handed a coil of nylon rope and a carabiner to Sharp and set the same aside for himself.

Starting with the midpoint on his left side, Sharp fed the rope around his waist, between his legs, and around both thighs, forming a half hitch on each hip. He tied the rope off with a few more knots on his left side, away from his dominant or brake hand, giving him an emergency rappel harness, also known as a Swiss Seat. He attached a carabiner to the front of the makeshift harness.

Lance followed suit. He slung two more sections of rope over one shoulder. Sharp returned to the group, and Lance backed the Jeep closer to the ravine. With no tall trees on the side of the road, they tied their ropes to the tow bar on the back of the Jeep.

They picked their way around rocks, brush, and tree trunks, then paused at the top of the drop-off. From this angle, Lance had a better view of the vehicle. “The car isn’t at the bottom. Those trees are keeping it from sliding any farther.”

Sharp looked over his shoulder. “The clearest path is on the driver’s side.”

“Right,” Lance said. “We don’t want to land on the vehicle in case our weight makes it fall the rest of the way to the bottom.”

Another twenty-foot drop could kill anyone who might still be alive inside.

“Watch the broken trees.” Lance went over the edge backward, letting out his rope slowly, making his way down the ravine. Sharp descended next to him. They stopped parallel to the car. The roof was partially caved in, and the exterior badly dented and damaged. Spider cracks and holes covered the windshield. The driver’s door hung open. Lance stopped, bracing his foot on a tree root, to lean out and peer into the vehicle. The driver’s seat was empty.

“She’s not in the front,” Lance said.

Broken glass and debris filled the inside of the car. The airbag had deployed and deflated. Despite the damage, the interior of the vehicle remained intact.

Sharp stared down at the ravine floor. “The occupants could have been ejected in the crash or fell or climbed down afterward.”

“It’s possible.” Lance looked for blood on the seat, steering wheel, and dashboard. “I don’t see any blood in the car. I would expect to see some blood if a person rode this car all the way down that slope.”

Sharp nodded. “Maybe whoever was driving got lucky.”

“Maybe.” But Lance doubted it. Even restrained by a seat belt, a person would have been banged up in that crash.