face the beefy lawman. The cave entrance loomed large and dark and foreboding behind him.
“Jaci, we saw a lotta diff’rent ways they coulda gone once they got in there.” Sheriff Blaine’s grimy face dripped with perspiration. “Can ya think of anything that might give a clue as to which way to go?”
Jaci squeezed her eyes shut while she spoke, trying to remember every detail Kyndal had talked about. “There was a room with a column in the middle and a windowlike opening. The window was high—she had to jump to get to it. The room on the other side of the window was full of crystals.”
“Crystals?” The sheriff’s voice was skeptical.
Jaci opened her eyes and met his gaze directly. “Crystals. Solid crystals, top to bottom.”
He let out a low whistle. “Sounds like a vug.”
“That’s it! That’s the word Chance used.”
“Vugs aren’t very common, so that should make this easier. Thanks.” He popped his gum a couple of times, then turned back. “They’ll find them.”
The sincerity in those eyes pushed air deeper into Jaci’s lungs than it had gone since this nightmare started with her call to the Shop-a-Lot this morning. The manager informed her Kyndal hadn’t shown up for work last night or today. He was on the verge of pressing charges because Kyndal had “made off” with equipment belonging to the stores.
The next call to Chance’s office didn’t help. The secretary seemed unconcerned—at the time. Her distressed callback later confirmed Chance hadn’t been in his office apparently for a few days.
Calls to Sheriff Blaine, to the Brennans who’d just returned from New Orleans, to Kyndal’s mom who still wasn’t home. Calls, calls and more calls—and her best friend might be dead or dying because she hadn’t made any of them sooner.
A sob blocked the next breath Jaci tried to get into her lungs. She sent a silent prayer into the darkness, ahead of the rescue team and the dog.
“They’ll find them.”
Jaci turned toward the hand resting on her arm. She hadn’t heard Emily Brennan approach but was relieved to see that the willowy blonde appeared to have regained her composure. The heart-wrenching hysteria when they found Chance’s and Kyndal’s cars in the garage had been more than Jaci could bear.
Jaci firmed her chin and nodded. “I know.”
Emily’s hand tightened around Jaci’s arm. She stared, unblinking, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “God wouldn’t dare take my other son from me.”
Without thinking, Jaci put her free arm around Emily’s shoulder and pulled her close. Emily’s arms dropped to her sides, unresponsive, as though she didn’t understand the meaning of a hug. Jaci held on. Even if Emily didn’t need the hug, she did.
This is what it meant to be a mother—constant worry. Sadness that could rupture your heart beyond repair. She couldn’t bear this…wasn’t a strong enough person to be a mother…never would be.
Emily’s posture softened, and Jaci felt the hesitant grasp of both arms around her waist. She was surprised when a third arm crossed her back. Bart hugged both of them against him. She was blessed to have such a loving husband. Did she really need more? Did she tell him that often enough?
And Kyndal. Did her best friend realize how thankful she was to have her in her life?
Over Bart’s shoulder, Jaci could see Bill Brennan watching their group hug.
When his eyes met hers, he turned coldly away.
* * *
SNAP…SNAP…SNAP. The sound of Kyndal’s camera should have been encouraging—and for the first couple of hours it had been. After Chance had gotten the water into her, she’d rallied—had even insisted he retrieve her bag so she could get some shots of the painted room. But now, she seemed to be drifting into a stupor, taking random shots as if her fingers were on automatic pilot.
He knelt to check the water gourd again. Snap. Barely a quarter-inch of water. Snap. A couple of tablespoons.
Gingerly carrying the bowl so as not to lose a drop, he crawled over to where Kyndal sat leaned against the wall, staring at him, her expression blank. “Here, baby. Drink this.”
She opened her mouth mechanically and swallowed the few drops he dripped onto her tongue.
“I…love…you.” Her rough, jagged voice sliced his heart wide-open.
“I love you, too.” Her hands…so tiny and fragile. Her fingers…so cold as he kissed them.
She pushed her fingertips against his mouth. “I’m glad…we had…this time.”
No! No! No! Her words had a finality about them that froze his blood. She had endured so much. They had come so far. He