Brian’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he fumbled it out, whispering “Yeah?”
Charlie said, “Nick goes to voice mail. Is his phone off?”
“Maybe.” Brian swallowed hard and squinted into the dark. “We’re stopped. He’s following McNaught on foot.”
“We’re still driving,” Charlie said. “Dirt roads now. Getting close to your last position. Can you read your GPS?”
Brian wasn’t sure his brain could make sense of anything. “Nick’s alone. I’m going after him.”
“Stay in the car! Rest. I’m on my way.”
“Okay.” He hung up, but when he dug in Nick’s backpack for energy bars, he came across the camera— the one Nick was supposed to have with him to record evidence, with its zoom lens and low light function, and no incriminating texts on it.
He has his phone. Brian set the camera on his knee and ripped into the energy bar. The peanut goodness flooded his mouth and he chewed hard.
He’s alone out there.
Usually, he’d be sleeping at this point, unwakeable, recovering, but he didn’t feel that blanketing exhaustion like he usually would. How much harm could he do following at a distance with the camera? Don’t answer that. He stuffed another energy bar into his mouth, wrapped the camera strap safely around his wrist, and slipped out of the car.
Crouching low, he looked around. Where’s Nick? There was an easy answer to that. He slipped deep enough in his head to pick up that amber-and-steel trace he knew so well. It was easy, floating right there, with the real world misty behind it. Forward.
Moving slowly and silently, he eased down the track past McNaught’s parked truck, each step careful on the rough ground. Up ahead, the bumpy drive looked like it opened into a clearing. What now? He moved over to the trees, but still crept forward. McNaught was a big, tough guy and Nick, for all his skills, was much smaller. Stay safe, Nick, damn it.
He’d reached the edge of the woods when something grabbed his wrist and a hand clamped over his mouth. Amber and steel had risen brightly where he was tuned in to Nick, then vanished with a flare, so the touch wasn’t scary. He could almost taste the lingering honey-warm trace. He slumped against Nick.
“What are you doing?” Nick breathed in his ear.
He held up the camera in answer, his knees starting to shake. Nick guided him to the ground, unwound the strap from his wrist, set him with his back to a tree, and crouched beside him. Brian wanted to ask what was going on, but McNaught was standing fifty feet away, looking at a small cabin with weather-beaten siding. Every line of McNaught’s body was taut and controlled. Brian pressed his lips shut and held still. Fatigue rose and his eyelids drooped, even though he desperately wanted to know what happened next.
Nick pressed the camera into Brian’s hand, and the moonlight was clear enough to see his exaggeratedly raised eyebrow. Are you able to record this? Brian blinked hard and nodded. I’m not checking out. Not this time. This once, I’m not going to pass out and give up at the end of a trace. He pressed his back solidly against the tree, raised the camera, and focused on McNaught.
Chapter 24
Nick crouched beside Brian in the cool grass, watching McNaught pivot in a slow circle, scanning his surroundings. Nick froze, hoping the moonlight wasn’t reflecting off the camera lens that Brian was somehow still able to hold. He should’ve passed out now. There was no time to wonder why he hadn’t. Nick didn’t see any sign of hesitation as McNaught finished his surveillance and turned back to the cabin.
McNaught crouched and picked up a bulky shape, heading toward the open cabin door. A fucking gas can? What’s he up to? The shack was dark and looked abandoned, the porch roof mossy and sagging, the stairs crooked. Could someone be living there? The light was too dim to make out details through the dusty, cracked windows, but it had the look of long neglect.
The smell of gasoline rose sharply as McNaught opened the spout and sloshed the contents over the porch before tossing the can inside the front door. Nick froze, waiting for a match or lighter, but McNaught pulled off the gloves he was wearing and tossed them in after the can. Then he backed away from the cabin and stood there, head cocked as if waiting. Nick was torn between keeping an eye on the man