She didn’t look convinced.

Morgan pointed out the one thing that would get through to Tina. “If something happens to you, Kirk will get custody of Evan.”

Tina’s shoulders caved forward. “OK.”

They stayed with her until the deputies arrived and took charge. They put the note in a plastic evidence bag.

Despite the coffee, Morgan was bone-weary as she climbed back into the Jeep. “Do you want to go back to the office?” she asked.

“No.” Lance glanced at his watch. “It’s past nine o’clock. Let’s take a run by Scarlet Lake. Damn it. We already missed bedtime.”

Morgan’s house sat on the Scarlet River, which ran into Scarlet Lake, so the lake was close to home.

“It’s all right. I checked in with the girls while you talked to the sheriff. Mia and Ava seem to be fully recovered from the virus. Gianna gave them their baths. Grandpa read them their bedtime story. They’re not neglected by any means.”

Lately, Lance was their choice to read bedtime stories, though they were happy enough when their great-grandfather took over.

“I’m the one who minds missing bedtime.” Lance reached across the console and took her hand. “Before we started dating, I had no idea how attached I would get to the kids.”

Three months ago, Lance had moved in with Morgan, and she’d accepted his marriage proposal. He’d become a part of their lives. He drove the girls to playdates and walked them to the bus stop in the morning.

Morgan smiled. “They do grow on you.”

“I can’t imagine going back to living alone.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.”

Morgan thought of Tina and her absolute despair when she’d thought her son had died. At this moment, she was all alone in a hotel room, worrying about Evan, maybe afraid to hope that he was still alive. If he wasn’t, she’d have to live through his death all over again.

“I’d really like to set a date for the wedding,” Lance said.

Morgan sighed. She should be excited about getting married, but every time she started thinking about plans, memories of her first wedding intruded. John had died in Iraq more than three years ago, but she still saw him smiling at the altar in his uniform and holding each of the babies when they’d been born. Then she saw his flag-draped casket being unloaded from the plane. She loved Lance with all her heart. But she’d never stopped loving John either. His death had devastated her. Damn it.

How could she resolve feelings she didn’t truly understand? “We have so much going on right now. Can we get through the renovations and then plan the wedding?”

“Grant says the kitchen reno will take three months. The addition at least another three.”

“So nine months.” That was a long time to put off setting a date.

“Three plus three equals six.”

“Not in contractor time.” Morgan shook her head. “Haven’t you ever watched HGTV?”

“Do you want to wait that long?”

“You don’t?”

“Not really.” Lance frowned. “I was hoping we’d be married this year.”

“It’s already June.” A tiny sliver of panic raced through Morgan’s stomach. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to plan a wedding?”

“Apparently, I do not.”

When they were halfway to the lake, rain began to fall on the windshield. A minute later, lightning flashed and thunder boomed. By the time they arrived, the rain had turned into a downpour, and the parking lot was empty.

Wedding details swirled in Morgan’s head. “Let me call my sister and think about it. We don’t need anything too fancy.”

“If you want fancy, we’ll do fancy.” Lance released her hand to shift into park. “I can wait.”

“Do you want fancy?” she asked. “You’ve never actually said where or how you’d like to get married.”

He turned to face her. “I want you to have whatever you want for our wedding.”

“That’s not an answer.” She sighed. Their wedding was their day, not her day.

Silence ticked by for a few seconds. She listened to the sound of rain beating on the roof of the car. After John had been killed, Morgan had sunk into a dark place for two years. She’d quit her job at the prosecutor’s office in Albany. She’d moved back into her grandfather’s house with her girls. She’d hidden from life for a very long time. But Lance had changed all that. She was living—and loving—again.

She was thrilled to be engaged to Lance, but she hadn’t realized how many sad memories their engagement would bring back. Maybe she hadn’t fully let go of John. How did one do that? She’d better figure it out or she’d ruin her second chance of happiness. Lance deserved better. He asked for so little from her and gave so much.

This was her issue, and she would have to deal with it.

“Let’s get back to finding Evan,” she said.

They climbed out of the car. Morgan opened an umbrella and held it over her head as they walked past the playground and picnic tables to the beach.

Lance ignored the rain. The downpour quickly plastered his hair to his head.

The sandy area spanned about a hundred feet of lakeshore. In the middle, smoke plumed from a pile of charred wood, the remnants of a very recent bonfire.

“We just missed whoever was partying out here.” Lance kicked a branch. They could not catch a break.

Morgan stared out over the lake.

Evan, where are you?

Chapter Fifteen

Unable to sleep, Lance rolled onto his back and studied the dark ceiling. No matter how hard he tried to put Evan’s face out of his mind, it didn’t work. He checked the time on the nightstand clock. One a.m.

Evan had been missing for just over twenty-four hours.

Next to him, Morgan hogged three-quarters of the bed and blankets. She was not a nighttime cuddler but slept with her long limbs sprawled out on the queen-size bed.

Distant thunder cracked softly, but Morgan didn’t stir. She had the unique ability to sleep through loud noises, but she woke up instantly at a single peep from one of the girls. It was as if she was tuned only to their frequency. He wouldn’t wake her. She’d been exhausted from dealing with a week of sickness.

He turned over onto his side, but sleep wouldn’t come. There was no point lying there. Useless. When he’d lived alone, he would have gotten up, poured a glass of whiskey, and played his piano to relax. But his piano had burned to ashes with his house when it had been set on fire three months before.

Needing to move, he eased out of bed. The dogs slept around Morgan’s feet. Snoozer didn’t budge. Rocket lifted one irritated eyelid, sighed, and closed it again. Lance grabbed dark pants, a T-shirt, and socks from a basket of clean laundry in the corner, then crept from the bedroom. As he passed the dining room, he snagged an energy bar and a bottle of water from the makeshift kitchen. His boots stood in the rubber tray by the front door. Carrying them, he let himself out of the house, being careful to lock up and reset the alarm system.

The downpour had slowed to a steady drizzle. The only remaining sign of the storm was the occasional flash of lightning and the quiet crack of thunder as the storm moved away. Water puddled on the ground and dripped from trees. He put on his boots and climbed into his Jeep. He needed a plan. He could cruise by the lake again, but there were no buildings at the beach. Evan was a smart kid. He would find somewhere to get out of the rain.

Where would Evan take shelter in the storm? If Evan were able, he’d contact one of his friends for help.

Jake? Or Rylee?

Lance thought of Steve Duncan’s farm, with its big barn and numerous outbuildings. Lots of potential places for a teenage boy to hide there. Jake could come and go as he pleased. If Evan were hiding on the farm or somewhere else, Jake would visit him at nighttime. Lance couldn’t see Jake going to Steve for help in hiding or feeding Evan. Hiding a runaway minor would be breaking the law, and Steve was a rule-following kind of guy. In fact, Jake would likely be afraid that Steve would kick him off the farm for such an infraction.

Lance decided to drive toward the farm. At the end of his and Morgan’s road, the river had spilled over its banks and across the pavement. He had to backtrack and leave the neighborhood through the other exit. He made a note to check the crawl space for water. Morgan’s house sat high above the riverbank, but the rain had been relentless for the past few weeks.

As he approached the farm, his headlights shone on a car parked alongside the road in the shadow of the overhanging branches of a large tree. Lance noted the vehicle’s details in the brief second his headlights illuminated it. Dark four-door sedan. He couldn’t tell what make or model. Shadow of a driver behind the wheel. But the car was angled to provide the driver a better view of the farm’s driveway through its windshield, and Lance did not get a read on the license plate.

Cops drove unmarked four-door sedans. Could a county detective be watching Jake? The sheriff could have easily come to the same conclusion as Lance.

He drove past the vehicle without slowing. He continued driving for a half mile until the road curved enough that the sedan driver would not see him stop. Then he pulled the Jeep off the road, ironically tucking it into a shadow for concealment, just like the driver of the sedan had.

He killed the engine and turned off the dome light. The rain would help conceal him, but light would be too visible in the country. Lance reached behind the seat for the black watch cap he used to cover his bright-blond hair. He located his penlight in the center console, then got out of the vehicle. A large flashlight was useless when one wanted to remain invisible at night. He didn’t bother with rain gear. Nylon was noisy and cumbersome.

He estimated the cleared land of the farm to be about fifty acres. Woods surrounded the fenced area. If Lance ran within the tree line, the sedan driver would not see him. He crossed the road and jogged through the trees in a huge arc. The humid air made the eighty-degree night feel much hotter. Rain and sweat soaked his T-shirt. When he emerged from the trees, he made sure the barn was between him and the sedan.