Page 68 of Colton’s Inferno

“We have to figure out who wants them dead—and why.” He opened the door to his car and slid behind the steering wheel. Aiden started the engine, and the call transferred from his cell to the microphone and speakers.

“I’ll send up some deputies to get the car,” said his brother.

Aiden turned the car around on the narrow lane. “Do me a favor,” he said. “Can you post an officer outside of Rusty’s hospital room? Lucy’s still there, I think.”

“Will do,” said Cal. “I’ll be in touch.”

The call ended, and Aiden stowed his phone in the cup holder. Then, he drove down the rutted path. The rain had stopped. The clouds were lighter. Lucy’s house stood on a rise.

The windows were still dark.

The car was still parked by the porch.

Nothing had changed.

After driving down the hill, he stopped at the edge of the paved road.

His phone began to ring. The caller ID showed on his dashboard screen.

Callum Colton.

Using the controls on his steering wheel, Aiden answered the call. “Hey,” he said, pulling onto the county route. “What’s up?”

“I just talked to Ryan. Lucy left the hospital about an hour ago.”

“She left?” he repeated. “Did he say where she was going?”

“He assumed that she went home.”

“That’s impossible,” said Aiden. “I’ve been at the ranch, and I didn’t see her.”

Then again, that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, he’d been on the property. But he hadn’t gone to the house. Lucy could have come back while he was in the woods. But he would have known, right? If she was in the house, a light would be on. Or a door would be open.

Pulling onto the road’s shoulder, he said, “I’m going back to the house. If she’s there, I’ll let you know.”

“Be careful,” said Cal, before ending the call.

Aiden drove back the way he had just come. Pulling underneath the Five Steers Ranch sign, he dropped his foot onto the gas pedal. The car shot up the road, the end swaying as the tires slipped on the mud.

He parked next to Rusty’s mint green car and turned off the engine with the press of a button. He opened the door and stepped from the car. There were no sounds coming from the house. He climbed the front porch steps and knocked on the door. “Lucy, it’s me. Aiden.”

He waited for a minute. And then, a minute more.

He knocked again, harder this time. “I know that you’re mad at me. But we have to talk.” He paused, before adding, “It’s about what happened to Rusty.”

Still, nothing.

A long porch stretched across the front of the house. Two windows gave a view of the den. Through the grimy pane, he could see a club chair. A bookshelf. A piano. A couch, with a high back, sat directly under the window. The room was empty.

He walked toward the steps and stopped. Then, his mind acknowledged what his eyes had seen. An arm dangled off the sofa. Lucy was in the house, but she hadn’t heard him.

He raced back to the door. Pounding on the jamb with his fist, he yelled, “Lucy. It’s Aiden. Let me in.”

Nothing.

He went to the window and looked inside. The arm was still there. Lucy hadn’t moved. He slapped the pane with his palm. “Lucy. Lucy. Lucy!”

She didn’t flinch.