Shifting uneasily, Knox flushed. “Means that the wildlife troopers aren’t liable to catch someone who’s hunting off-season.”

Gabe only sighed. “Does that area have a place for a chopper to land?”

“Yeah, a few.” Chevy pointed to the clearings on the display.

Dante and Bull had followed them in. Dante frowned. “Huh. I didn’t know there were trails in that area. I didn’t send anyone to check it.”

Gabe studied the monitor. Hidden parking, unmarked trails. That’d weigh heavy for Spyros.

If there was a cabin where the kidnappers could wait out the rain until the chopper could land? Well, Baumer liked things easy.

“You know how to get there?” Bull asked Knox.

“Been awhile, but yeah.”

Hang in there, Audrey. I think we might have a lead.

Gabe looked around the squad room. The last few people had headed out to scour the roads, randomly looking for Baumer’s car. The only people who remained were his brothers, Knox, Chevy, Dante, Lillian, and Regina.

And Gabe. Damned if he’d stay behind at this point.

“Dante, can you, Lillian, and Regina hold down the fort here? Coordinate efforts as needed.” He gave the old vet a smile. “I know you haven’t forgotten how.”

“Can do.” Dante glanced at the weapons locker. “Arm your men, Chief.”

Gabe already had the keys in his hand.

The cold rain beat down on Audrey and plastered her inadequate T-shirt to her chilled body. Her strength was fading as she stumbled behind Earl Baumer on the narrow forest trail.

Despair weighed down her heart even more heavily than the useless pistol dragged down her right ankle.

Walking behind her, Spyros jabbed his fingers into her spine. Cruelly. Painfully. “…and then I’ll cut you here.”

Since the first step on the trail, he’d been telling her how she’d die.

Earlier, at the trailhead, Earl and the New Yorker had dragged her out of the SUV and thrown her on the ground. Another car had pulled in. Four men climbed out.

And then she’d looked up…into the face of her nightmares.

Spyros. Oh God. Terror flooded her, drowned her. His right eye was gone, the lid scarred and sunken. White scarring stood out starkly against his swarthy skin.

“You got the maláka. Good, good.” He gave her a malice-filled smile before asking the New Yorker, “The backup team?”

“On schedule.”

Earl frowned. “What backup?”

“Just a few more men. A precaution. In case we run into trouble.” Spyros yanked her to her feet. With the two vehicles concealed by the shrubbery growing next to the shoulder, the group headed up the trail. Along with Spyros, Earl, and the New Yorker, there were three more brutal-looking men.

Too many men. She was going to die.

She’d known it then—and knew it now.