Five minutes later, the dot was stationary. It was still in Portland. In fact, when she zoomed in on the map, Bridget knew exactly where Bob’s assistant was. Not at a Mount Hood cabin.

She was at Costco.

Bridget groaned. Costco. She hoped Ajay hadn’t picked this time to check out the tracker.

After a shower, she made herself an oversized mug of coffee. She had a second one with her cereal and started to feel slightly human. She toggled back and forth between her email—nothing from Ajay—and the tracker—Joanne was still at Costco. Probably picking up cleaning supplies to give Bob’s house a really thorough going-over while he was in Flanders.

But then the dot started to move. First it was on Interstate 5, then Interstate 84. And when it turned onto Highway 26, Bridget was sure she knew where it was going. Highway 26 was the road to Mount Hood.

The dot kept moving until finally, after about forty-five minutes, it came to a stop on a street called Hoot Owl Road. Somewhere near the Zigzag River, but several miles from even the smallest town.

Someplace isolated. A perfect place to hold someone hostage.

Bridget waited until midafternoon to see if Joanne left. But the dot stayed put. She had to leave now if she didn’t want to drive in the dark. She put on heavy winter clothes, and waterproof hiking boots. The Leatherman went in her pocket, and the bat and binoculars on the car’s passenger seat.

As she turned onto Highway 26, it was starting to snow, fat white flakes that seemed to suck up all the sound. By the time she turned onto Hoot Owl Road, still three miles from her destination, the snow was coming faster, the flakes smaller, and night was coming on. She turned the wipers up another notch, leaning forward and squinting. Even though Bridget was going so slow the speedometer barely registered, she could not see more than a few feet in front of her. The snow felt like a blanket that had been draped over the car, pressing up against the windows, isolating her.

The rear tires fishtailed. Her heart stuttered even as they found purchase. Should she shift the car into a lower gear? Bridget had never driven on snow before. With a start, she realized she’d gotten closer to the cabin than she intended. She had planned to stop well short and approach on foot, but suddenly it was right there, a faint glow in the dark to her left.

And just as she was thinking that, the car suddenly jolted as it hit something.

DERRICK

Save Him

In Portland, Derrick wouldn’t have paid any attention to the sound of an approaching car. Not even in Cascadia, where a real road ran next to the imaginary battlefield. But in the dead silence of the forest, he and his mom could hear the engine’s low grumble long before they saw it.