Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,92

rest of this day held . . . he prayed that despite his many lapses and lack of gratitude for the blessings that had been bestowed on them in the midst of tragedy, God would give him an opportunity to make things right with Elisa.

Yes, she would always remind him of the sweet, gentle woman he’d loved.

Yes, he would always mourn the loss of his beloved wife.

But while Elisa was part of Raca, she was also her own person.

And from this day forward, he would keep that front and center in his mind and do everything he could to cherish the sweet daughter God had entrusted to him.

If he was lucky enough to get a second chance.

25

They were getting nowhere.

And in less than an hour, it would be dark.

Logan retraced the beam of his flashlight around the inside of the large drainage pipe that emptied into the field his team was searching and straightened up, fighting back a wave of panic.

After three hours, none of the teams Lexie had assigned to grids radiating outward from his house had found a trace of the girls.

Yet Molly and Elisa couldn’t have traveled on foot much beyond the perimeter of the area already searched. Not while lugging a suitcase and backpack.

Meaning that if they didn’t find them soon, they’d have to consider other scenarios.

Like a runaway that had turned into an abduction.

He fisted his hands and took a deep breath.

Lexie had already mentioned the possibility of issuing an Amber Alert if evidence began to suggest that outcome—and they were getting closer to that step with every passing minute.

His phone vibrated against his hip, and he pulled it off his belt. The chief.

Pulse surging, he pressed it to his ear. “Any news?”

“Nothing yet—but the handler and dog from Medford are here. How close are you to finishing your grid?”

He gave the partially wooded terrain his team had been searching a sweep. Thomma was at the far end, Jeannette a few hundred feet away, and Steven Roark was in the opposite corner, visible through the trees. They were all close to being done.

“Ten minutes.”

“Perfect. Since Thomma is on your team, why don’t the two of you meet me and the handler at your house as soon as you’re finished? We’ll give the dog the scent and see where he takes us.”

“We’ll be there.”

He pressed the end button and completed his quadrant of the grid at warp speed, scrutinizing the ground for any evidence that could suggest the girls had come this way—a lost hair ribbon, a dropped piece of clothing, small footprints.

Nothing.

It was almost as if they’d vanished off the face of the earth.

Suppressing that gut-clenching thought, he jogged over to Jeannette.

She gave him a hopeful look. “Anything?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

“The dog and handler are here. Lexie wants Thomma and me to meet them at my house as soon as we’re done.”

“I’m finished.”

“I think we all are.” He indicated the other two men, who were walking their direction, and angled sideways so only she could see his face. “Thank you for helping today.”

“It’s what any good Samaritan would do—and Hope Harbor is full of those, based on the number of people who showed up at the high school.”

He wanted to ask her if Christian charity was the only reason she’d volunteered, but Thomma and Roark joined them before he had the chance.

“Any sign of the girls?” A senseless question. One of the men would have given a shout-out if they’d unearthed some evidence of the youngsters’ passage through the area.

“No.” Roark shook his head.

So did Thomma.

Elisa’s father looked as bad as Logan felt—complexion pale, eyes haunted, cheeks hollow, features taut.

Logan explained the latest development, and Roark added a few Arabic words to clarify for Thomma.

He extended his hand to Thomma’s boss. “Thank you for volunteering.”

“Not a problem. I’ll go back to town and sign on for another grid. Hang in.”

“Thank you.” Thomma too offered his hand to the man.

Roark took it and said a few more Arabic words that brought a shimmer to Thomma’s eyes.

“I’ll sign on for another grid too.” Jeannette pulled her keys out of her pocket.

“Would you like to come back to the house with us instead?” Logan retrieved his own keys.

She hesitated but in the end declined. “I’ll be of more use on a search team.”

Logan wasn’t certain of that.

He’d rather have her close by, where he could feel her presence and take her hand if this day got any tougher.

But from a practical standpoint, it was better to have her out looking