“I’m lead,” Hayes clipped.
Calder and I fell into step behind him. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.
No birds called overhead. It was as if even the wind had gone completely still. From years of working with animals, I knew what that meant: a predator was near.
The door to the cabin was wide-open. Hayes raised his weapon. “Carson County Sheriff’s Department. Announce yourselves.”
“Back here,” someone called. The voice was weak, barely audible.
Hayes picked up his pace but didn’t drop his weapon. He cleared the living area we passed, then made his way down a short hallway.
As we stepped into a tiny bedroom, my gaze instantly moved to Ian Kemper sprawled on the floor. Calder immediately holstered his weapon and knelt beside him.
“Damned gut shot,” Ian wheezed.
Calder lifted his shirt and winced. “We need EMTs.”
“They’re already en route in case of injuries,” Hayes said.
On their way because he thought there was a good chance Shiloh could be hurt. I turned to Ian. “Where are they?”
“I gave her a chance. Told her to run. She took off for the woods. Looked like she was heading north. My dad was on her heels, though. August right behind them.”
I started in that direction, not waiting.
“Hold your damn horses. I’m lead, remember?” Hayes barked.
I didn’t say a word. If Hayes wanted to lead, he’d have to hurry the hell up.
We both went quiet as we moved through the trees, listening for any signs of movement. I pointed to a branch up ahead. I would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the beam of light breakingthrough the brush—a few strands of long hair, that mixture of brown and gold. My chest seized.
I should’ve taken it as comfort. Shiloh was alive and running. But for how long?
“We look for the path,” Hayes said quietly.
I saw it now. A broken branch here. Trampled brush there. We had a trail to follow.
A muttered curse had us both freezing. Hayes held up a hand, telling me to stay still. I listened harder.
“Goddamned bastard. My fuckin’ nose.”
My eyes narrowed as I pointed to my left. Hayes stepped off the makeshift path and moved towards the voice. I could just make out a figure through the trees. He was bent over, blood pouring out of his nose. He didn’t even notice our approach.
Hayes lifted his weapon mere feet away. “Carson County Sheriff, don’t move.”
August jolted upright. For a moment, he looked as if he might run, but then his shoulders slumped, and he held his arm up to his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Bastard branch got my nose bleeding again.”
He spoke as if he weren’t caught red-handed as part of a kidnapping plot that would put him in prison for the rest of his life.
“August Ernst, you’re under arrest for criminal trespass and kidnapping.” Hayes began reading August his rights as the cuffs went on.
“Where is Shiloh?” I growled the words low, but they had August struggling to take a step back to get some distance from me. I let my feral edge show then. Let August see exactly who he was dealing with. I was more predator than man at the moment, and I didn’t give a damn.
“I-I-I lost ‘em, but they went that way.”
I picked up to a run, headed back to the makeshift trail. Hayes called after me, but I didn’t listen. I knew he had to secure August in the back of his vehicle before he could keep searching. I didn’t have that kind of time to waste. Shiloh was close. I could feel it. I just had to get to her.
I ran faster, listening for any unusual sounds and looking for any signs of human presence. It was a flash of color that caught my attention—gold caught in the sunlight.