Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,96

what she wanted to do.

But it was risky.

Very risky.

She was already more involved with the duo next door than she’d ever planned to be, and if anything happened to Molly— Her lungs stalled, and she clutched the back of a folding chair as the truth ricocheted through her.

Whether she backed off now or chose to get closer, it would be Cincinnati all over again if this night didn’t have a positive outcome.

Because a burrowing beagle, an endearing little girl in need of TLC, and a man of character and integrity who honored his promises despite the cost to himself had shattered her defenses.

Jeannette let out a shuddering breath as the safe, predictable world she’d created crumbled around her.

She shoved her trembling fingers into the pockets of her jacket—and as they brushed the key Charley had found during their walk on the beach, several of his comments replayed in her mind.

“No matter how hard we try to maintain the status quo, the world changes around us . . . and changes our world in the process.”

“Sometimes, while we might only recognize it in hindsight, changes that shake up our world can be positive.”

“Love is the great stabilizer.”

Perhaps their resident sage was right.

Yes, she was more vulnerable now than she’d been six weeks ago, but her life was also richer, more vibrant, and filled with possibilities—if she had the courage to embrace them.

And as she exited into the rain and ran for her car, one final thought from Charley looped through her mind, ramping up the urgency of the decision she faced.

Most doors didn’t stay open forever.

26

It was raining hard now, but Sherlock wasn’t stopping—and neither were they.

Logan turned up the collar of his jacket as he and Thomma followed Lexie, the dog, and his handler.

They had to be at least two miles from the house at this point, past the farthest grid anyone had searched, paralleling 101 away from town, twenty yards back from the shoulder.

How had the girls managed to . . .

“We have something.”

As Mark called out and aimed his flashlight toward a large bush, Logan’s phone began to vibrate.

He ignored it and broke into a jog, as did Lexie and Thomma.

It took him no more than a second to identify the abandoned Disney princess suitcase through the foliage.

“It’s Molly’s.”

Lexie pulled out her phone. “I’ll have one of our officers pick it up. Mark, does the scent end here?”

“No.” Sherlock was already straining at the tracking line. “It continues along the same path.”

Meaning they hadn’t been snatched. They’d simply ditched the suitcase after it became too cumbersome to lug around.

Logan exhaled.

Thank you, God.

“That’s good news,” Lexie confirmed. “I’ll wait here until the officer arrives, then catch up with you.”

Logan and Thomma fell in behind the man and dog again.

Another quarter of a mile down the road, the rain tapered off as the trail veered inland, toward a copse of trees.

The going got rougher, and a hundred feet in the dog alerted again on the edge of a small creek.

“Do either of you recognize this?” The handler called the question over his shoulder.

Logan dashed forward, Thomma at his side.

A limp, bedraggled lavender ribbon was caught in the tall grass.

“Yes. It’s Molly’s.”

“Let’s leave it until the chief arrives. Why don’t you put a couple of those rocks next to it to mark the spot?” The handler motioned to several large stones beside the water.

Logan complied as the dog strained at the leash.

Mark waited for him to finish before letting Sherlock move forward.

The dog splashed through the creek and continued into the trees.

Less than a hundred yards later, he sat.

Mark lifted his flashlight higher.

And there, in the arc of light, stood two dirty, wet little girls holding hands and staring at them with wide, fearful eyes, one clutching a doll, the other clinging to a blanket, a backpack slipping off her shoulder.

Every muscle in Logan’s body went limp.

Thank you again, God.

Mark clicked off the flashlight as Logan and Thomma surged forward.

“It’s me, Molly. Uncle Logan.” His voice was as shaky as his legs.

Thomma spoke too.

Logan dropped to one knee in front of his niece and wrapped her in his arms as tears streamed down his face. “Oh, sweetie. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I love you so much.”

Her arms crept around his neck as the words spilled out of his mouth, and he hugged her tighter, this child who’d entered his life out of the blue . . . transformed his world . . . and