Page 62 of This Christmas

“Be careful, Joe,” she said when he was done.

“I will. I plan on being back by mid-morning. I wish the weather was clear enough to chance driving back tonight,” he admitted, hating every minute he was away from them.

“Don’t try it. Get some sleep.”

They talked for another minute before she drifted off mid-sentence, exhaustion lacing her words. Joe listened to her breathing for a few seconds before ending the call.

He sat in the dim light, staring at the cracked ceiling of the motel room. Clay’s words were echoing in his head—federal, joint task force, obstruction, fraud, tampering. Ted wasn’t just a threat to Ally; he was a cornered animal now. Which was far more dangerous. For some reason, he’d set his sights on her. Why?

It couldn’t be just because she’d been the one to get away. Could it?

Something about the whole thing gnawed at him, a gut instinct he’d learned never to ignore.

He stared out the window as the snow swirled faster and faster, like smoke under the glow of the parking lot lights. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have returned home.

After a restless hour, he gave up trying to sleep. He sent a text to Clay, a quick note to keep him updated, and grabbed his keys. He hit the road, stopping along the way to fill up on gas and caffeine.

By the time he reached the outskirts of town, it was after two a.m. The highway was completely empty and the world was hushed under a blanket of white almost two feet deep. As he crested the ridge where the lights of Pride come into view, his phone buzzed, signal returning after miles of dead zone on the highway.

Three missed calls. All from Ally.

Then came a flood of texts.

“Joe, call me.”

“Please answer.”

“Charlotte’s gone. I can’t find her.”

His chest went cold.

He floored the gas and the tires fishtailed on the snow-packed road as he tore up the last stretch toward the house. He tried calling her back.

When the place came into view, every light in the place was on, and she had yet to pick up his calls.

“Dammit,” he muttered, slamming the car into park and running inside.

“Ally!” His voice echoed through the rooms.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, barefoot. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide with panic. “She’s gone, Joe. I can’t find her!”

He was up the steps in two bounds, gripping her shoulders gently but firmly. “Start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“She was in her room, sleeping with Olaf. I woke up, I don’t know why.” She shook her head. “But I went downstairs for just a minute to get a glass of water, and when I came back…” Her voice cracked. “Olaf was barking. I went in, thinking she’d heard me and had just gotten up to go to the bathroom, but…” She closed her eyes, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Joe’s gaze shot past her to the hallway. The small bedroom door was wide open. The bed sat empty and his heart sank in his chest. The air in his chest turned razor sharp.

“I’m calling Aiden,” he told Ally as he held onto her and pulled out his phone, then punched the screen. “Charlotte’s missing,” he blurted out the moment Aiden answered.

When he hung up, they rushed from room to room together, calling Charlotte’s name. The dog followed them like it was a game.

He stopped at the basement door and froze. “Did you unlock the basement door?” he asked her.

“N-no,” she whispered and he felt her shake next to him.

“Stay put.” He grabbed the heavy flashlight and checked his weapon, which he was thankful he’d picked up from the station last week.

“Joe?” She laid a hand on his arm.