“Glad you drove because I don’t have the faintest idea where we are.” Max gazed out the passenger window of Allie’s SUV as she made a sharp left and floored it.
Had minutes passed or hours since she’d heard Hope’s voice on the phone? If she couldn’t be sure, she could only imagine how distraught Max must be feeling.
“We’re going to find her, Max.” She took one hand off the wheel to squeeze his. “You just need to hold on a little longer.”
“By my fingertips if I have to.”
“Sun’s coming up. That’s only going to help.” She swerved back into her lane, distracted by trying to remember every detail she could about her dream. The more time that passed, the more foggy the images became. The spinning lights in the distance bolstered her hope. “They’re already here and looking for her. See?”
As if she needed to point it out.
“Hope said she was told to call you,” Max said. “Why would Patrick do that?”
“I don’t know.” Nothing made sense to her at the moment. Nothing would until she knew Hope was safe and home with her father and uncle. “There’s Eamon. And Cole and Jack over there across the street.”
She braked hard and parked on the side of the road, spotted Lieutenant Santos with a group of deputies and officers on the other side of the patrol cars. Max was already out and running as she yanked the keys free and jumped out to follow. Her energy drained as she drew closer to her friends. She scanned the area for something, anything familiar from her dream, but everything was so different.
She turned in circles, her mind spinning as panic began to mount. Every bit of her training, every bit of her objectivity vanished and left only fear in its wake.
“Allie!” Cole called her over, his brow knitting. “Over here!”
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked her as she joined them at the hood of Jack’s new SUV.
“I can’t explain it.” And she couldn’t. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Max. She didn’t want to let him down, not after everything he’d been through, especially not in regards to his niece. “What do we know? Have you found anything?”
Cole glanced at Eamon, who stood as silent as usual. Stoic, steadfast, stony-faced Eamon Quinn might have looked calm and analytical to anyone who didn’t know him, but Allie could see the barely there panic hovering behind the same green eyes Chloe had possessed.
“We found a car not too far in. Patrick Goodale was the driver.” Eamon motioned to the gap in the oleander across the road. “It’s totaled from being run off the road. We found traces of evidence of another vehicle.”
“Patrick.” Relief almost swamped the rage. Almost. “You found Patrick. You have him in custody?”
“He’s dead, Allie.” Jack tightened the straps on his bulletproof vest as he picked up the conversation where Eamon left off. “Shot twice in the chest. Point-blank.”
“Dead?” Allie swayed. “Patrick’s dead?” How was that possible? Why...?
“What about Hope?” Max’s cool tone meant she couldn’t mistake his underlying message. Patrick wasn’t the important one. “She said she was taken and put in a car. Is there any sign of her?”
Cole shook his head. “We have deputies and officers searching the area near the car now. The cell phone ping only gave us a general location before it went dead. It’s the only reason we found the car. And Allie? There are countless oak trees. We need more to go on.”
Allie nodded, determined not to give in to the deflating sensation in her stomach. “Please give me a minute.” To what? Magically decipher which tree was the one from her dream?
Max shifted, shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked his head, but not before she saw the frustrated gleam in his eyes. “Just give me a direction to go, someplace to start,” he pleaded with Cole. “Please.”
“We will in a second,” Eamon assured him as he moved around to Allie. “Why here, Allie? Why did you tell Cole to look for an oak tree?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to explain that she’d talked to his dead sister in her dreams. It went against everything she believed, everything she’d studied, and all logic and reason, and yet...
“She was dreaming about Chloe,” Max said. “Just before Cole called, she called out her name.”
Allie shivered. “I can’t explain it,” she told Eamon when his expression went flat. “I know it sounds crazy—”
“Tell me what you saw. Close your eyes, Allie.” Eamon moved in, placed his hands on her shoulders. “Take yourself back there. Tell us what she showed you.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Eamon snapped and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max move toward her, only to have Jack grab his shoulder to keep him in place. “Set the fear aside,” Eamon continued. “Stop thinking about anything other than the dream. Whether it was Chloe or not, whether she was real or not doesn’t matter. You dreamed it. It was in your mind. It’s your thoughts. Now focus on them.”
His calm rationality settled her. She closed her eyes and jumped when she heard car doors slam in the distance.
“It’s Eden and Simone,” Eamon told her as he squeezed her shoulders. “Concentrate, Allie. Tell us where to go. Tell us where Hope is.”
Allie blanked her mind, emptied it of all thoughts before drawing on the image of the field she’d found in the dream. The sight of Chloe darting around the tree. The tree that arced and spewed its majestic branches high into the sky. She heard murmured voices in the distance as she retraced her steps, felt the weeds and flowers crunch beneath her feet.
And then she wasn’t alone. She felt her friends beside her.
“We’ve got you, Al.” Eden’s hand slipped into one of hers. Simone took the other.
Grass. Not weeds. Thick grass with tiny explosions of color, the violets that had haunted her for so many years now her guiding force. She angled her head as if she could change her vantage point. She blinked open her eyes, bypassed looking at anyone or anything other than the area on the other side of the barbed-wire fence behind Cole’s and Jack’s cars.
She pulled free of her friends’ hold, walked to the fence that stretched for as far as she could see in either direction. A flicker caught her attention, behind where she’d stood moments before. She ran back, ducked down and pointed to a piece of red fabric off one of the barbs. “Here. She went through this way.”
“Are you sure?” Eamon asked as he moved to his car and retrieved a pair of bolt cutters.
Max joined her, reached for the material, but she stopped him before he pulled it free. “It’s evidence,” she whispered.
“It’s Hope’s,” Max confirmed. “I bought a red sleep shirt at the mall for her.”
Allie nodded. “Okay. Through here!”
She started to duck through, but Max tugged her away when Eamon came over to clip the fence apart.
“We go first,” Eamon ordered as he dropped the cutters and withdrew his gun. “Cole, Jack, take point. Whoever shot Patrick might still be here,” Eamon reminded everyone. “Keep sharp.”
“Which way, Allie?” Cole asked.
Allie’s gaze landed on the tree in the distance. She pointed. “There.”
The morning damp coating the thick grass soaked through her clothes as they waded through the field. The overgrown flora made her feel as if she were swimming through mud. Her feet slipped and slid and she held her hands out for balance as they trudged forward, additional officers and deputies spreading out behind them.
Just when it seemed as if they weren’t getting any closer and she again feared she’d been wrong, Cole held up his hand, pointed to the side. “There! I see where someone’s cut a path. It’s a small one, but it’s recent.”
“Follow it!” Allie cried as everyone picked up speed. No one said a word as the morning air was filled with the swishing sounds of running and breathing. Allie glanced behind her but found Eden and Simone right by her side, Simone keeping pace even as she knotted her hair at the base of her neck.
And then she saw it.
“This is the tree.” She stopped dead in her tracks as she recognized the spot. Eden and Simone grabbed her arms. “You see it, don’t you? You know where we are?”
“We know.” Eden hauled her forward and into the near clearing where Chloe’s body had been found twenty years before. “And we aren’t stopping now. Hope!” Eden called and by doing so gave everyone else permission to call for the little girl. But it was Max’s frantic call that jolted Allie’s heart.
“Hope, answer me!” He disappeared around the tree and she heard him clomping through bushes and shrubs.
“Here!”
They all froze at the sound. “Did you hear that?” Allie whispered. Her lungs burned, her head throbbed. Simone nodded.
“This way!” Eamon ducked under a tree branch and came into an opening, his flashlight glinting against the green of the flora. “In here!”
“Uncle Max? Dr. Allie?” Hope’s gentle voice called out in the semi-darkness and let Allie breathe again. “Is that you?”
“We’re here, baby,” Max yelled as he dived through a thicket of thorny holly. “We’re coming. Hold on.”
Allie wrenched herself free and went in after him, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the shadow of a small figure huddled, shivering, at the base of another tree. The dead cell phone was clutched in her hands. The side of her face glistened, and as a shaft of morning sun shone through the branches of the tree, Allie saw the blood.
“Hope.” Max’s legs wobbled as he approached her. Her long red hair was tousled and tangled, tears streaked her filthy face, but Allie knew, at that moment, she’d never seen a more beautiful sight than Max holding out his arms for his niece. “Hope.”
She sobbed and threw herself at her uncle, her small fingers digging into his back with such force Allie could feel it. “I knew you’d find me. I just knew it.”
Max sank to the ground, hauled her into his lap and rocked her, much like Allie imagined he had when Hope was a baby.
“She’s okay,” Max said over his shoulder to Allie. “She’s okay.”
Allie nodded as tears spilled onto her cheeks.
Simone murmured a quiet prayer while Eden moved in and wrapped an arm around Allie’s waist. “You did it, Al. You found her.”
“We found her,” Allie corrected. She looked on as Eamon and Vince entered the area. “Eamon?”
Eamon blinked as if trying to pull himself out of a trance and then flinched as he caught sight of Hope and her uncle. His eyes met Allie’s for a brief moment, and in that time, Allie’s heart broke all over again. He holstered his weapon, gave her a sharp nod and walked away.
“Hope?” Allie approached with as much caution as Max had, only to find herself nearly bowled over as her patient launched herself out of Max’s arms and into hers. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Allie whispered. She held on tight, unable to stop herself from pressing a kiss to the little girl’s forehead. “We were so worried about you.”
“She told me you’d find me.” Hope leaned back, her arms linked behind Allie’s neck. “She told me to hide here and you’d find me.”
“Who told you?” The question was out of Allie’s mouth before she thought better of it. Before she realized the answer.
“I don’t know her name.” Hope sat up and scrubbed her hands across her face. “You must have seen her. She looks just like me. Can I go home now, Uncle Max? I really want to go home.”
“We’re going to take you to the hospital first, make sure you’re all right,” Max said. “That’s a nasty bump on your head.”
“Oh.” She pushed out of Allie’s hold and back into her uncle’s as he lifted her into his arms. “It happened when the car crashed. But I’m not sure. I fell asleep.”
Max smiled. “I’m betting you get to go to the hospital in an ambulance with a siren and everything.”
“Wow, really?” Hope’s eyes went wide. “For me?”
“Hope?” Allie asked. “Hope, did you see who took you? Did they hurt you? Touch you? Do anything to you?”
“Not now, Allie.” Max shifted Hope out of her reach as Hope ducked her head and hid her face in Max’s neck.
“Do you know where you were being—” Allie tried a different tactic.
“I said not now!”
Allie frowned. She needed answers; she needed to know just how involved Patrick was. If Hope had any solid memories or information. “It’s best if I talk to her when it’s all fresh—”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for her. Not now.” Max moved around her and gave her a ferocious look that had her taking a step back.
“But we need to know—” She trailed after them like a heat-seeking missile.
“No, you need to know,” he snapped. “I have what I need, right here.” He jostled Hope in his arms. “You can talk to her later if you have to, but right now, leave her be.”
“But—”
“She’s not your patient anymore, Allie,” Max blasted. “She’s not Chloe. She’s Hope. And she’s alive. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep her that way.”
Allie gasped. She wasn’t putting Hope in any danger. She needed to do her job. She needed to close this case, once and for all, to make sure there weren’t any more Hopes or Chloes. “Max, please—”
“Please don’t fight.” Hope began to cry. “Not you, Uncle Max. Please don’t fight with Dr. Allie. I don’t want to hear anyone fight ever again.”
“Hush, we aren’t fighting, Hope.” Max cradled her head against him. “Not anymore.” He glared at Allie over the top of his niece’s head. “Let’s get you taken care of and somewhere safe.”
“I’ll come with you then.” Allie moved to follow only to feel Eden grab her when Max’s eyes narrowed.
“Please, don’t,” Max said. “She’s been traumatized enough for now. We’ll be fine on our own.”
“But—”
“Allie.” Simone swooped in and joined forces with Eden. “He’s right. She’s been through enough.”
“Thank you, Simone.” But it was Allie he stared at. “For putting my niece first. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.” He turned and walked away.
* * *
“You can’t blame him for going off the rails,” Eden said as she and Simone bookended Allie back at Cole’s SUV. The highway had been blocked off, traffic was being diverted, and the crime scene unit had arrived and had taken charge of the scene where Hope had been found. “It’s been a pretty rough time for him.”
“For all of us,” Simone added as she rubbed Allie’s back. “He’s just worried about his niece, Allie. He’s not angry with you.”
“I don’t care if he is,” Allie lied. She’d never seen anyone look at her with such loathing before, as if he didn’t know who she was. What she was. “I need to talk to her. I need to know what happened, what she saw.” It might be over for Max, it might be over with Max, but Hope still had information they needed.
“Let’s pray she didn’t see all this,” Jack said as he joined them by Cole’s car. “Whoever killed Patrick did a number on the scene. It’s a mess. Almost like they threw some kind of fit after.”
“I want to see it. I want to see him.” Allie didn’t wait for permission. She trudged forward and through the path left by the crashed vehicle. She spotted Tammy by the open trunk taking pictures while her assistant shifted the angles of the spotlights as the sun continued to rise, others placing evidence markers in the appropriate places.
“Allie, you don’t have to do this,” Eden said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. “We can look at the pictures later—”
“He was my brother,” Allie cut her off, pushing aside any sentimentality. “It might sound strange, and I don’t expect you to understand, but I need to see this.”
“But—”
Simone pulled Eden away, shook her head. “Let her do this.”
Allie left them behind and walked toward the bashed-up car. Both the driver and passenger doors were open, the windshield obscured by spider-webbed cracks. She saw his feet first. The expensive Italian loafers she remembered him dreaming about when they were children. Patrick could spend hours perusing mail-order catalogues, marking off items that one day he’d be able to afford. His tailored black slacks were torn and ripped, the button-down shirt glistening with blood. His pale face, even paler in death, seemed gaunt and stricken, as if he’d died of shock despite the bullets in his chest.
His eyes stared up to the sky, vacant, dull, that same sweep of bangs brushing the tips of his lashes. Such a waste. Such a horrible, horrible waste of a life.
Allie stooped down, forced herself to memorize every detail. “What did you do, Patrick? Why did you do this to us?”
But Patrick Goodale didn’t answer. He never would.
She pushed to her feet, closed her eyes to clear her thoughts and faced her friends.
“I want to talk to Nicole.”