Stella put her foot down. “I won’t let your vehicle anywhere near the property. If you’re going, you’re going with me.”

She could not have the Barretts going rogue on her out in the woods and possibly being shot by law enforcement. “You both must stay at the command post. That’s not negotiable.”

She knew the Barretts well enough to predict they were going to ignore her instructions.

“Of course,” Hannah said, bumping Grant with her elbow. “We don’t want to get in the way.”

Grant’s expression said he very much wanted to do just that.

A rumble of distant thunder foreshadowed the stutter of lightning on the horizon. Another storm was rolling in.

“Let’s go.” She gestured to her car. Hannah slid into the backseat. Grant rode shotgun. And as much as Stella worried about their presence, something about having the two of them in her car bolstered her confidence. She drove out of the lot as the storm burst from the sky.

She no longer cared if she was fired. The only thing that mattered was finding Mac and Gianna.

If they were still alive.

Thirty minutes later, they gathered outside their dark vehicles near the old stone barn. Stella tugged her cap over her brow to keep the rain out of her eyes. Horner went around the back side of the barn with two uniforms. Drawing her weapon and flashlight, she instructed Grant and Hannah to stay in the car. Then she led Carl and two more officers toward the front door.

At the entrance, she hesitated. The last time she’d faced a dark barn, it had blown up in front of her. She checked the doorframe for wires but found nothing.

The door wasn’t locked. She pulled it open and went in, sweeping the space with her weapon and flashlight. Something rustled to her left. Stella spun. A raccoon scurried out the door.

The building was empty.

They took a few minutes to check the floor for trapdoors.

“No one has been in here for a long time.” Horner lowered his light. “Let’s go check the rehab center.”

They returned to their vehicles and drove to the center. Repeating the procedure, Horner covered the back while Stella and Carl banged on the door. They heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Stella held her weapon ready as the door opened.

Reilly stood in the lobby in a pair of cotton pajamas. The front was buttoned all the way to his chin, and they appeared as if they’d been ironed. But his hair was rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. A sinking feeling settled in Stella’s belly.

They’d gotten it wrong.

“What’s going on?” he stepped back.

Stella and Carl pushed past him. “Is anyone else here?”

“The patients are all sleeping in their rooms. I did bed check a half hour ago.” Reilly scratched his forehead.