Forgotten Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

he ducked under a large tree limb and motioned his father forward. “I’ve got a bad feeling someone’s out there. I can’t tell which way he went. You?”
    The man who’d trained all his children to track and survive bent down, squinting at the area in the flashlight’s range, then slowly shook his head. “Guy knew how to cover his tracks. I can barely tell he wiped them away. He was here, but he could’ve headed in any direction, including back to the road. Trouble is, I didn’t see any tire tracks, either.”
    Weapons drawn, they searched through the grove before moving into an area of wheatgrass. A glint drew Thayne’s attention. He squatted down.
    A phone. His gut twisted.
    “It’s Cheyenne’s. I’d know that bright-red case anywhere.” His father leaned over Thayne’s shoulder.
    Thayne shoved on a protective glove and scooped it up. Within seconds, he’d placed it into an evidence bag and tapped the screen through the plastic. The phone lit up. “It’s locked. Do you know her password?”
    “Her birthday.”
    “Damn silly choice. Too easy to break,” Thayne muttered, but he tapped in the numbers. “It worked. When we find her, I’m making her pick a new code.” Thayne searched photos, texts, and even e-mail. “She hasn’t used it since she called me.”
    “No message? Nothing? I can’t believe that.”
    “Whoever took Cheyenne must’ve dumped it.”
    “And then carted her off to God knows where.” Thayne’s father studied the road heading toward the National Forest. “It’s too easy. They’re not headed into the woods. They’ve covered their tracks well so far. Why point us in the right direction?”
    “I agree. So, back the way we came?”
    The sheriff grabbed his shoulder mic. “This is Sheriff Blackwood. Expand the BOLO for the black SUV and Cheyenne to all the neighboring states. And get Pendergrass out here. We have a secondary crime scene.”
    While his father barked out orders, Thayne walked the area around the phone’s location, searching for anything they might have missed, some clue to lead them to Cheyenne.
    He circled tightly, focused on the ground cover, but nothing appeared out of place until . . . He froze at a radius of ten feet, unable to move or breathe.
    God, please no.
    On the edge of a group of shrubbery . . . freshly sifted dirt, and just beyond that, a small ditch covered with dead branches and leaves. With a sidelong glance at his father, he hurried to the site. A fox scampered away, streaking below the evergreen leaves.
    Thayne knelt down.
    Please don’t be here, Cheyenne. Please.
    He braced himself and shoved aside several branches.
    Buried beneath the logs, an old, shredded tent and a few fence posts lay embedded in the earth.
    Thayne’s knees gave way. He fell back in the dirt. Hard. Thank God.
    “What’d you find?” His father’s clipped voice jerked Thayne out of the intense relief. “Is it her? Is she . . . ?”
    Thayne stood up and quickly strode to his dad. “It’s not her. It’s remnants of the last flash flood.”
    His father closed his eyes. Thayne hated being grateful they hadn’t found Cheyenne, but for a moment, he’d believed he’d uncovered her lifeless body. He never wanted to feel that way again. Not ever.
    The radio sparked.
    “Sheriff. It’s your mother. She’s awake, but it’s not good.”

    The streets of DC never slept. Even well after midnight. Horns honked nearby, a car alarm pierced through the dark, and Riley squirmed in the seat next to her boss. He’d been too quiet since they’d left the crime scene. His silence didn’t bode well.
    Tom pulled up in front of Riley’s apartment building and shifted into park, the rumbling purr of his government vehicle nothing but a reminder that he’d been lying in wait since they’d left the hospital.
    “You look like hell,” he said, his voice soft but clipped, his gaze hard and knowing. “And not because of that bullet graze. When’s the last time you