Teri felt a cold sensation in her stomach. “Get in the car,” she said. “Keep the doors locked.”

The kids didn’t argue—maybe something in her expression let them know she was serious. She deputized Chris to be in charge, then headed to where Gilroy had gone, shivering in the November cold.

She’d expected him to be in the woods beyond the rest stop, maybe digging his go bag up. She hadn’t expected to hear him talking to someone.

There was a man standing next to him. He was dressed in dark clothing, a head shorter than Gilroy. “These kids think you’re in the CIA?” he laughed.

Teri quickly ducked behind the nearest tree.

“I had to do something,” Gilroy said. His voice sounded different now—rougher edged, with an accent creeping in around the edges. “I had to get them out of there and get them on my side or they would have phoned the police. And I couldn’t have that, not when we’re so close to pulling this off.”

“And what will you do with them now?”

“I’ll take care of them.” There was a chilling finality in this answer. Teri forced herself to keep breathing. She wished she hadn’t listened to quite so many true-crime podcasts.

“So to business. You have them?” the other man asked.

“Obviously. You have what I want?”

“Show me the ice first.”

“Right here,” Gilroy said. Then there was a long pause. “I swear they were right here.…”

Teri ran. For once in her life, she didn’t need to ask someone what she should do.

She ran around the back of the rest stop, back across the parking lot, beeping open the yellow car as she went. She threw herself into the front seat—all the kids were in the back—and started the car with shaking hands.

“What’s going on?” Chris asked.

“Where’s Gilroy?” Daryl added.

Teri moved the seat up and pulled out of the parking lot as Gilroy ran toward them, fury in his eyes, the other man at his heels.

“Who’s that?” Chris asked.

“Put your seat belts on,” Teri said. She stepped on the gas as she aimed the car toward the highway, as fast as it would go. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and glanced back at the kids in the rearview mirror. “We’re getting out of here.”

CHAPTER 18

Kat

Beckett?” I asked, even though of course it was him. I was just trying to make sense of it. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said, taking a step to the side so we wouldn’t be in the middle of the sidewalk, and I followed. “Where’s Stevie?”