Their group hug broke apart.
“Tell me what you need. Law enforcement will cooperate. We’re searching for a murderer who’s abducted Isleen.”
What did he need? The answer came to him in the form of instinct rather than thought. “I need to go to Prospectus County. I need to go to the torture trailer.”
*
Red sky at morning, take warning. Xander didn’t remember where he’d heard the phrase, but it felt appropriate.
The rising dawn hurled bloody smears of cloud across the sky, casting everything in an eerie crimson glow. Kent drove them through the endless fields of corn and beans that seemed to swallow the entire world. It all seemed so bizarre, but it was real.
Xander’s brain thumped in percussive blasts that jerked his head and rattled his vision. He felt hot and cold at the same time—fucking miserable. The constant whir of the car’s engine and the buzz of tires against asphalt—added to every man’s heartbeat, every suck and whoosh of their breath—frayed Xander’s already shredded nerves and combined to make it all sharply real.
He craved quietude the way an addict craved their next fix. Actually, he craved Isleen. She gave him silence and peace. At least Kent, Dad, and Matt had done very well at playing the silent game. Xander wouldn’t have survived the three-hour drive if he’d had to listen to everyone talking and to their thoughts too.
The car bounced and rocked over the cheaply paved country road. In the distance a sign became visible—white with green letters that he couldn’t read until they were right on top of it.
ENTERING PROSPECTUS COUNTY
Kent pointed at the post. “We’ll be at the trailer in about ten minutes.” Why would Isleen’s abductor take her back to the trailer? If he did, it’d be an episode for the World’s Stupidest Criminals show.
Xander’s head pounded too hard to feel the pain of the frequency connection. “She’s not going to be at the trailer, asshole.” He spoke through clenched teeth, the anger in his tone sounding deadly. Only he wasn’t angry at Kent. Yeah, the guy had driven her away from him, but Xander had let her go because that’s what she wanted. Was he angry with Isleen? No. Yes. Maybe. He didn’t have time or brain space to ponder it right now. He just needed to get her back. “Sorry. I’m the asshole. I just need to go there. It’s somehow connected to the man who took her.”
Kent glanced back and forth between Xander and the road, fucking pity in his eyes. “You okay? You’re shivering and sweating.” Never seen him like this.
“No, I’m not okay. I’m not going to be okay until Isleen is safe.”
Kent nodded. “You should know this: The plot of land the trailer sits on doesn’t exist. The county records show it as part of the farm, but the farmer said the land has been in his family for over a hundred years, and there’s always been a dwelling of some sort—not owned by him—on it. Another dead end.”
“You look into the farmer?” Xander remembered the picture of the guy from the news. He’d looked like an overgrown child.
“Yeah, we looked into him. Dug as deep as we could go. The guy’s got farming smarts, but that’s the beginning and end of his intellect. I can’t imagine he’d have anything to do with this.” All you’d need is one conversation with the guy, and you’d understand.
“How could a plot of land with a trailer on it—the electric, septic, gas—get past the township, the county, the government?” Matt asked from the backseat.
“There was no electric. We found a kerosene heater. No running water. The place was completely off grid. We suspect someone—possibly in the local government—has been falsifying and erasing records and greasing the right palms to keep the land and dwelling off the records. Our investigation turned up no one suspicious.” No leads. Not one. Nowhere to look. Not even a direction to go. We’re not going to find her.
“I don’t need your negativity right now. I’ve got enough of my own. I already know this is fucking impossible. I already know…” His voice cracked, and he couldn’t speak beyond the lump of dread in his throat. At minimum she’d spent the past week captive and scared. That thought was bad enough. He didn’t dare let himself think of the millions of other things that could’ve been done to her when she’d already been through so much. And what if he couldn’t find her?
The thought punched him in the throat, cutting off his oxygen and filling him with bone-deep fear.
He’s going over the edge. This is gonna get ugly. Glad I’m in the backseat. Matt’s thoughts weren’t exactly helpful, but they provided enough motivation for Xander to drop-kick the worst of his fears out of his mind. If he was going to go all cracked nut, he’d do it later. After this was over.