“Bender’s been working all day like I have. No, I’m on this. It’s my responsibility.”

“You take too much on yourself.”

“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same if this were some church emergency.”

“Maybe I would, but that is different. I don’t carry a gun or worry that people will shoot me. I care about you, Tess. Your dedication is as attractive as it is terrifying.”

“I have to go.”

She disconnected. The cold hit hard, but for Tess the hit on her heart was the hardest. What chance did she and Oliver have if he didn’t understand her responsibility to her job?

Tess had to take a minute while Bender and Yarrow discussed routes. She’d hit a wall thirty minutes ago, and if she didn’t refocus, she’d be useless on this search. She asked herself a question: What would my dad do?

The answer came to her immediately: He’d pray.

Prayer had always been his default position, and tears threatened as Tess realized that was her weakness. Oliver’s words about her taking too much on herself came blaring back to her. It wasn’t a weakness to need help or backup.

Tess prayed, asking for strength, clarity, and most of all, for another miracle, for Janie’s safety and a good end to this nightmare day.

41

Ice’s eyes were heavy. He had a full stomach, he was warm and dry . . . it would be easy to drop off to sleep. But when his body shifted, pain stabbed him awake. His chest got more painful as the bruise settled in. It only served to make him angry and more committed to making the woman who’d shot him pay. Not to mention the fact that the cut across his cheek would ruin his looks forever.

“Women like scars. Don’t worry about it,” Digger had told him just before he left the plane, saying he had something to do for Cyrus. He and Cyrus had had quite the phone conversation. Digger hadn’t said much, so it was obvious that Cyrus was giving the instructions and he had a lot to take care of in a short amount of time.

At this point Ice didn’t care what women liked. He hated the angry red slash across the right side of his face.