I leaned against the corridor wall. A clown bustled past, busily tying balloon animals. Behind him strode a cluster of doctors, deep in consultation.

“I have no—” I stopped abruptly.

The warehouse. That’s where the drugs were. That’s where Ben would go.

We reached the conclusion at the same time. “He went to the warehouse, didn’t he?” Nate said.

Adrenaline surged through me. “No!”

But Nate had already hung up.

I hurried to the accessible bathroom and locked myself inside. I dialed Gabe on the other phone with shaking fingers.

“You need to get to the warehouse. Now,” I hissed when he answered. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Already on my way. Ben called. Said to meet him there ASAP.”

My mind stuttered. Ben had called him?

“Nate’s on his way there right now,” I said. “We need to move everything. Fast.”

I STRODE down the hall to Josh’s room, peeked in. Moira was still reading her book. Josh’s cheeks were flushed, but he was sleeping soundly. With a last glance in the room, I went to the nurses’ station.

“Can you check on Josh again?” I asked our nurse, Katie. “I need to run out to my car.”

She nodded, and I hurried toward the elevator.

Outside, night was descending, and tiny flakes of snow were just beginning to fall. Cold wind buffeted my cheeks and snaked beneath my coat. I hurried across the parking lot to my car, my shoes slapping against the wet pavement.

The warm lights of the hospital quickly disappeared as I drove as fast as I dared up the mountainous road and over the bridge, turning down the road that wound along the river’s edge in the direction of the warehouse.

About five miles from the mill, I saw a flash of blue lights. I braked abruptly. Police cars were blocking one side of the road. A crime scene crew was working behind yellow police tape.

I recognized Kia as I drove slowly past. Her short dark hair blew in the breeze, snow landing on her police jacket, her jaw clenched as she scowled at something on the ground.

I mentally cursed. Why did I have to live in such a small town?

A cop waved me around the roadblock. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, hoping Kia wouldn’t recognize me. But just as I thought I was clear, she turned in the direction of my car.

In the rearview mirror, I saw her staring after me.

I drove the rest of the way to the warehouse in white-knuckled terror that Kia would follow, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they ached. I finally pulled over, parking in front of the broken chain-link fence, and got out. Nate’s cruiser was parked on the shoulder a little way down.

He was already here.