Nathan was impressed. They’d used a predetermined signal in case Simpson was being held hostage and forced to use her radio. If Henning hadn’t received the three flashes in return, he’d instantly know Simpson was in trouble. Breathing a little heavy from his run, he closed the distance and focused on Billy.

Holly looked at Nathan, then back to Henning. “We’re going to open the garage door. You two okay?”

They both nodded.

Henning crouched down at the opposite corner of the garage.

Holly did the same on her corner. “On the deck, Billy,” she said, “right here in front of me.”

“In the dirt? I’m soakin’ wet.”

“Do it now.”

“It’s just a garage,” he muttered. Because Billy’s hands were secured behind his back, he had to drop to his knees first, then slide his legs out from under him. He plopped over with a grunt and lay still.

Holly nodded to Nathan. “Okay, lift it slowly.”

Nathan pulled his gun and stepped to the middle of the garage door. He grabbed its galvanized handle and began lifting. “Watch for trip wires,” he said.

Henning crouched lower and swept his flashlight in an arc across the garage floor, his gun tracking the beam.

“Clear,” he said.

“Clear,” Holly echoed.

“Check the rafters,” Nathan said.

They both swept the ceiling area.

Nathan raised the door the rest of the way. The garage was mostly empty. Its concrete slab was cracked in random lines, like a black widow’s web. A red Suzuki Enduro occupied one corner and looked like it had rarely been ridden. A small storage rack was mounted above the Enduro’s rear wheel. In the opposite corner, several shovels, hoes, and rakes were secured in a linear bracket screwed into the wall. A workbench occupied the left side. Various household tools were hung on hooks: Saws. Hammers. Pliers. Screwdrivers. Wrenches. Everything was arranged by type and function and nothing was out of place. The opposite wall hosted all kinds of power tools. They looked new or well maintained. And yes, there was a grinder. Most of the empty power-tool boxes were neatly stacked against the rear wall of the garage. Nathan frowned. This didn’t look right.

Henning stepped into the garage and was about to flip a light switch.

“Wait!” Nathan yelled. He looked at Holly.

She nodded her understanding. “It could be rigged.”

Henning stared at the switch for several seconds before backing away from it.

“Okay,” Holly said, returning her attention to Billy. “Stay put.”

“Better let Billy dig up the ammo cans,” Nathan offered. “They could be booby-trapped.”

“Good thought.”

“They aren’t,” Billy said.

“Your cousins tried to frag a dozen federal employees yesterday,” Holly said. “We’re a little short on trust.”

Henning stepped forward and cut the tape binding Billy’s hands. “On your feet. If you run, I’ll shoot you in the back. Clear?”