Her answer was ignored as soon as the passenger door of Tony’s truck opened, and Addis Kensington carefully slid down until her feet hit the ground. Then, moving in front of the vehicle where she was backlit by headlights, she opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a squeak before her knees buckled, and she started to crumble to the earth. Tony’s frightened eyes darted between both weapons trained on him even as he dived forward, catching her before her face could hit.

And then there was movement everywhere, but it was the way Addis sobbed into Tony’s chest as he soothed her, rubbing small circles into her back, his words flitting through the breeze and over to Alyssa that convinced her there was more to this story than she was seeing. She couldn’t stop the flutter of hope that she was somehow wrong, that there was no possible way her friend and teammate was in any way involved.

‘It’s okay,’ Tony said. ‘You’re going to be safe now. Remember that kickass lady I told you I work with, the one who knows your Aunt Grace? That’s her, right there. I told you she wouldn’t give up until she found you.’

Still reassuring Addis, Tony lifted his gaze to meet Alyssa’s and cocked his head once toward his truck where Emerson Childress still sat in the cab, her body visibly trembling. Both hands covered her mouth, and from the dome light shining down on her, Alyssa could clearly see the tears that fell like a late October rainfall down her face.

Holstering their weapons, Alyssa and Cord approached as understanding warred with relief that there was no way Tony would’ve risked telling the girls about them unless he had been the one to rescue them. Had he known all along where they were? Was that why he’d skipped out this past week? Or could this be a rare case of true coincidence? Though the guilt of doubting him was like ingesting spoiled food, the question of the threatening photographs delivered to Holly – photographs that Tony had access to – kept Alyssa from entirely trusting him. But for now, she was forced to set that aside because the truth was, she needed his help.

Victoria, along with the other members of the search and rescue team, scurried over to Tony’s truck. ‘Looks like a bad sprain or possibly a broken ankle,’ she yelled.

If all they had to contend with in the way of physical injuries was a bad ankle, Alyssa would count herself lucky.

A chorus of organized chaos erupted all around them as Victoria and her team readied Addis and Emerson for transport back to the Glorieta home base where she’d radioed ahead for an ambulance to meet them.