But it wasn’t Claire.
* * *
That night,Adam pulled into The Pitts, the closed quarry halfway between Falcon Run and Wasilla.
The only light was by way of headlights. Vehicles took turns, so no one ran down their batteries.
A truck on the other side was the only one running, its radio turned up, windows down.
Adam parked and walked around the outside of the ring of trucks.
He found Jeff leaning against his tailgate, Budweiser in hand.
Adam crawled into the truck bed. Squatting, he hobbled toward Jeff. The man was dangerous. He’d seen what he could do.
But Adam was desperate, and he’d keep the .38 in his possession this time.
He grabbed Jeff’s left shoulder, pulling him against the tailgate as he drilled the muzzle against the back of the man’s neck.
Jeff froze.
Adam growled in his ear. “Where’d you bury the bodies? Where’s Thomas?”
“Adam!” Jeff choked out in a whisper, but held steady. “I went back the next morning! Place was empty. Everything was gone.”
“Who were they? How did you know they were coming?”
“I don’t know who they were! Thomas never told me names. Said a friend hooked him up.”
He pushed the gun harder into his spine. “How’d you know they were coming, Jeff?”
“I was at the bar. Saw them walk in. Heard them ask for Thomas Belgarde.”
Adam pushed himself backward, breathing hard. “Someone took Claire.”
“Claire Harper?” Jeff turned slowly, rubbing his neck. “You think it’s connected?”
“Of course it is. Claire’s my girlfriend. We’ve been super careful, but obviously not careful enough.”
“Tell me what to do,” Jeff pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Claire’s great. So sweet. I hate this. I told Thomas not to mess with those men —”
“I know what you told Thomas. I wish you’d told me.”
Adam sat with his back against the cold metal frame. He was starting to wonder if he’d ever known Thomas. How could his brother have gotten them so tangled up in this deep, dark web?
Jeff closed his eyes, then rested a heavy hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do.”
“Sorry doesn’t help me, Jeff. Find out who those men were.”
* * *
Days passed.Unlike most jobs, where he would have just walked away, you couldn’t walk away from a ranch. Like Clara Mae said, it was a 365-days-a-year life.
At least taking care of Buttercup and Bolt provided him with a purpose. But he could see Buttercup’s depression. Horse’s knew. Somehow, horses knew when something was wrong. They missed theirpeople, which made Adam feel sorrow for what Bolt had gone through the past year without him.
Every day melted into the next. No word. No clues.
Both Lala and Claire had just vanished — and people didn’t just disappear.