Cop by Her Side. Janice Kay Johnson

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      Several men stood just outside the yellow tape surrounding her sister’s red Toyota. Aware one of those men was Clay and that he’d turned when he heard her hurried footsteps, Jane initially ignored them to gape at her sister’s Venza, a sporty crossover. Ditch had been a misnomer. Really, it was more of a bank that dropped toward the creek. It appeared as if a cluster of small alders and shrubbery was all that had kept the Venza from plunging another ten feet down into Bear Creek.

      Clay separated himself from the group and approached her, his blue eyes intent on her face. He wore chinos and a polo shirt. She wondered if he’d been working today anyway, or if he had been called in. But no, she realized right away—that made no sense. Like her, he worked major crimes, not traffic accidents. In fact...what was he doing here?

      “Jane,” he said with a nod.

      As always, she reacted to his physical presence in a way that aggravated her. Even his stride was so blasted male.

      “Have you learned anything?” she asked, although she knew better. He’d have called if her sister had regained consciousness or a search-and-rescue volunteer had found her niece.

      “I’m afraid not.” He sounded regretful. “We’ve been going over the ground around the vehicle without finding a damn thing.” Lines furrowed his forehead. “We need to find the driver of the other car that stopped. I’d hoped for a tire impression that would give us something to go on to locate it.”

      “Can’t the hikers you said called tell you a make and color?”

      He grimaced. “They think it was a car rather than a pickup or SUV. But it was apparently parked in front of your sister’s SUV, which blocked their view. They were standing—” he turned and pointed back the way she’d come “—probably fifty yards away. They were aiming to come out at the picnic ground where they’d left their car, but they heard the sound of what they thought was a small waterfall and cut through the woods.”

      “Is there a falls here?” Jane asked, puzzled.

      “No. Not enough elevation change. We’re thinking they heard an engine.”

      She nodded. “What can I do?”

      He led her to a man who appeared to be the organizer of the volunteers here to hunt for Bree. They had initially concentrated their efforts on the creek side of the road, in part because a child getting out of the vehicle would have had to scramble up to the road, while sliding down to the creek would have been easier.

      Jane met Clay’s eyes and knew what he was thinking. If Brianna had been scared and running away. But why would she have been?

      Please, please let her be safe with some friend and her family.

      Not hiding for some reason in the woods. Or—worse.

      Her mind slammed shut on even the possibility of worse. No, no. Worse would mean somebody had snatched her, and that was ridiculously unlikely.

      “What about that old resort?” Jane asked. “It has a bunch of cabins.”

      “A couple of deputies went over there,” Clay said. “Talked to the people who own it. They run some kind of group home and use the cabins that are in better repair for teenage boys. Some of the boys helped scour the place. The deputy I talked to said they even got down and checked beneath porches.” He shook his head. “Nothing.”

      “I wish there was more I could do,” she said helplessly.

      “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you’d rather be here.”

      “Yes.” She made herself say, “Thank you for calling me. I’ll, um...” She gestured toward the search-and-rescue guy.

      “Wait.”

      Surprised, she looked up at him.

      “Your sister and her husband. Were they having any kind of problems?”

      Jane grappled with the question. “You’re not thinking—”

      “I’m not thinking anything yet. Just asking questions.”

      “They’ve been having to tighten the belt,” she said after a moment. “If that’s what you mean by problems. Drew lost his job, oh, probably four months ago and hasn’t been able to find anything comparable. Being out of work is upsetting for him. I don’t know any man who would like the idea of his wife supporting the family. He’s started looking farther afield, and I know Lissa isn’t happy about that, but I wouldn’t say they were fighting about it or anything.”

      “Would she tell you if they were?”

      “One of them probably would.” She couldn’t say Drew would have, because then she’d have to explain that he was more than just her sister’s husband, that it was because of her he’d met Lissa, and that she and her sister had a tense relationship at the best of times—and that these recent months had not qualified as the best of times.

      If she wasn’t imagining it, Clay’s eyes had narrowed slightly. He’d heard something in her voice, even if it was only restraint.

      “How much do you see of them?”

      She looked away from him, watching as more volunteers arrived and were dispatched across the road into the dry woods. From each direction, she heard voices calling her niece’s name. “Oh, you know. Dinner probably once a week. Sometimes I take the girls somewhere.” She watched a middle-aged man in hiking boots and camo pants accepting instruction, nodding, and starting across the road. “I should be with them.”

      “You can join them if you want, but you’ll do more good helping me understand if there’s anything going on here besides a woman running off the road by accident in broad daylight and a kid either being misplaced or taking off.”

      “Bree wouldn’t.” Despite herself, she couldn’t help looking into Clay’s face again, hoping for... She didn’t know. Reassurance? As angry as she still was at him, she knew he was a smart cop and a strong man. It disturbed her now that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His expression was kind, but also detached. “Why would she?” she asked him, even knowing she was pleading. She hated how small her voice sounded.

      His gaze turned from hers to move restlessly over the woods. “If she’s out there, it’s because she’s scared. My first thought was that she’d gone for help. She’s old enough to think to do that. But surely she’d have headed for one of the houses.”

      “Bree is really mature for her age—” She didn’t even want to say this, but had to. “Unless she stopped a car and...and got unlucky. The driver was some kind of creep.”

      A pedophile. Please, God, no. Brianna was a beautiful child. She’d taken after Melissa, who’d always stopped traffic. Melissa, who used her beauty as a way to handle people.

      Clay’s gaze had locked on her face again. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

      “Then where is she?” she cried.

      His jaw tightened. “I don’t know. If we have to seriously start considering this an abduction, though, we need to look at family first. You know that.”

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