A zone?

“A landing zone,” Caz said quietly.

Gabe nodded, even as cold ran through his veins. If Audrey got in a plane, the chances of finding her grew infinitesimal. He forced his mind to keep working. “Helicopter or float plane?”

“Earl said something about a chopper and started making suggestions, but Matthew Mark woke up, and I didn’t hear more.” Tears filled her eyes. “Earl left. He didn’t say goodbye; he just left.”

Because he was in a rush to get revenge on Gabe. To get his blood money. The asshole. And this woman had known and…

He shook his head and kept his voice gentle and firm. The woman was in a cult. Brainwashed. “Have you heard from him since?”

“No,” she whispered. “Phones are for men, not women.”

Jesus. Gabe bit down on his temper. He’d be looking more into the Patriot Zealots in the future, oh yes, he would. “I understand, MaryEllen.”

After a few more questions, Gabe and Caz left her sitting in the kitchen.

Erica and her mother were in the living room, and Gabe paused to ask the two women to keep an eye on MaryEllen. That she wasn’t to leave or use the phone.

“No service out here anyway.” Erica sent an angry look toward the kitchen. “We’ll keep her here for you, Chief.”

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “Erica, this mess isn’t her fault.”

Caz took over. “You know, the Patriot Zealots believe a man should do all the thinking. Foolish, yes, but it is what she believes, which means, without her husband to make her decisions, she’ll be lost. I’ll notify social services, but they can be slow to respond. If you could help MaryEllen get by…”

“You’re right.” Erica gave Caz a rueful smile. “She’s going to have a rough time coping, isn’t she?”

“She is.” And how many more MaryEllens were there behind the compound’s razor wire-topped fences?

Back at the station, Gabe and Caz hugged a frail-looking Lillian. The guards were there, shamefaced and furious at being tricked.

After Gabe updated everyone, Bull and Dante pulled up a map of the area on the computer, looking for potential landing areas outside of town. They eliminated clearings with obstacles, unstable or rough ground, or not enough room. Once a possible site was found, volunteers headed out to check for parked vehicles—especially Baumer’s or rentals.

Chevy and Knox were using Gabe’s computer.

“Yeah, a copter could land in any of those,” Chevy said. “Hey, Chief.”

“Find something?” Gabe joined them.

Knox tugged on his hefty mustache and pointed to the three-D map display. “Earl and I hunted up there a while back. There’s a bunch of unmarked trails, a couple of cabins and stands. The trailhead is behind some undergrowth. A 4-wheel can get back there to park and can’t be seen from the road.”