Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
That they would possibly kill her in the end?
“Tell me more about Adam,” I demand.
Jensen’s expression darkens. “He thought they were up here for some kind of spiritual journey—at least that’s what Lainey told him. But I got the sense he was just humoring her, letting her have her little adventure before he…” He trails off, jaw tightening.
I press my fingers into the table. “Before he what?”
“Before he pulled her away from everything she cared about,” Jensen says bluntly.
“The way abusers do,” I whisper.
I swallow hard, guilt settling like a stone in my gut. I’d known Adam was bad news. Had seen the warning signs. But I’d been too wrapped up in my own problems, my own life, too willing to take Lainey’s assurances at face value. Too much the FBI agent who could see clearly on the job but was blind to what was right in front of her at home.
Some investigator I am. I deserve to have my badge taken away.
“On the fourth day,” Jensen continues, “we reached a spot just beyond Benson Hut. Down in the valley. Close to Soda Springs.” He pauses, rubbing his palms against his thighs as if trying to warm them. “Lainey was convinced we were close to where the McAlisters had camped. Where Josephine was born. She wanted to explore some caves she’d found on old survey maps.”
“And did you?”
He nods, eyes distant with memory, the flames from the fire jumping in them. “We made camp at the base of the ridge. Plan was to explore the cave system in the morning. But that night…”
He falls silent, gaze fixed on something I can’t see. Something that still haunts him.
“That night?” I prompt, trying to be patient but still frustrated at the same time.
“Adam and Lainey had a fight,” he says finally. “I couldn’t hear everything—I was keeping watch a little ways from camp—but it was bad. He was shouting, calling her crazy, delusional. Said it was time to stop indulging her insanity and go home. I heard a slap, saw her stumble out of their tent. She had a red mark on her face.”
Rage blooms hot in my chest. “He hit her?”
“Yes,” Jensen confirms grimly. “I was about to intervene and beat his fucking ass when Adam stormed off into the woods. Lainey followed him, telling him to come back, that it wasn’t safe. I went after them both, but the terrain is treacherous even in daylight. At night…”
“You lost them,” I finish for him bitterly.
“I heard screams,” he says, voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Adam’s, then Lainey’s. By the time I reached them, there was blood on the ground. Drag marks leading into the trees.”
My heart hammers painfully against my ribs. “Like with Hank.”
“Yes. I followed the trail as far as I could, but it led into a cave system at the base of the ridge. I…” He hesitates, shame evident in the set of his shoulders. “I was afraid. I was fucking afraid, like I’d never been before. I’d seen movement—shapes in the darkness that moved too fast, eyes that reflected blue in the moonlight. Feral people. Hungry people. One of them started toward me, and I ran. Didn’t have my rifle on me. Should have had my rifle on me. They came for me like an animal and I leaped out of the way, fell down a cliff, broke my leg.” He taps his right one. “Screamed for help but there’s no one to hear you scream in these mountains. So I dragged myself back to camp for supplies, for my rifle, but by then a snow storm had moved in. Like this one, but one of those late spring surprises.”
“And you never found them,” I grind out. “You just let her go.”
“I couldn’t get anywhere,” he says, his brows coming together in a plea. “I tried. Managed to get a signal eventually, stroke of luck, then Eli came to get me but by then I was delirious. I couldn’t have searched then, but I did as soon as I healed enough. Came right back up here despite knowing what I saw and I searched for three days. There were a few signs of a struggle, blood. But no bodies.”
“And you didn’t report it to the authorities? Didn’t tell anyone what happened?”
Jensen looks away, unable to meet my gaze. “No. I was scared. Scared of what I’d seen in those caves. Scared of what the police would think—a man alone in the mountains with two missing people? Above all, I was scared of Marcus.”
“Marcus?”
“Marcus Thorne. The man who owns most of my debts. The man who effectively owns the ranch.” Jensen’s face is carved with bitterness. “He’d be uncovered. The ranch would be finished. My mother’s care would be finished. Everything my family worked for and tried to protect over the generations would be gone.”