Running from left to right,” she said in an equally low voice. “Toward that three-story building down the hill.” She nodded toward a structure that looked like an office building.

“Okay. Let’s take a look.”

The compound appeared deserted. It was quiet, except for the soft moan of the wind blowing between the buildings. Otherwise, everything was silent. Was the compound holding its breath, just as he was? Waiting to see what would happen next?

Brody tugged Lainey to a stop as they approached the three-story building. He put his fingers to his lips, and she nodded, clearly understanding that both of them needed to listen.

After a long moment, he heard footsteps in the building in front of them. He glanced at Lainey, and she nodded. She’d heard them, too.

Holding tightly to Lainey’s hand, Brody noticed an open window on the second story. He squeezed her hand and nodded toward it. Lainey frowned as she studied it.

Was she wondering the same thing he was? Was someone squatting in this building? Realized it was empty and moved in?

A flash of movement at the other end of the building caught his attention, and he tugged on Lainey’s hand. A slight figure exited from the door at the far end and trudged toward the next building.

As soon as the person was out of sight, he pulled Lainey along as he began running. When they reached the open area at the far end, he spotted the slender figure halfway up a tree. An apple tree, Brody realized with a wrench of sympathy. He or she was gathering apples to eat.

Lainey’s hand tightened on his, then she tugged them closer to the tree. Had she realized it was an apple tree, too? Lainie had a soft heart and Brody knew she wouldn’t leave until they’d talked to the kid. They trotted toward the tree, but when they were ten feet away, the person in the tree froze. He or she had spotted them.

“Hey,” Lainey called softly. “We’re not going to hurt you. We want to help you.”

The person in the tree didn’t move. Lainey tugged Brody a little closer. “I saw you running through the compound as I drove past. I thought you might need help.”

“Don’t need help. Go away,” a defiant voice said. “Leave me alone.”

Brody tugged on Lainey’s hand and drew her down to the ground with him. The grass was cool and a little damp against his thighs, but he barely noticed it. His entire focus was on the child in the tree.

Because that was not an adult’s voice. Brody wasn’t sure if it was a boy or a girl, but he or she was a tween or a youngish teen.

“We can’t do that,” Lainey said. Her voice was calm. Quiet. Even. “We can’t walk away if we see someone who needs help.”

“I don’t need anything,” the voice said, a little louder. “I’m fine.”

Brody glanced at the ruins of the mess hall. Where was this child getting food? “You must be hungry,” he said. “I know the mess hall burned down. Any food was destroyed in the fire.”

“Tree’s full of apples,” the child retorted.

Brody’s heart ached for the child. A girl, he thought. Something about the voice sounded feminine. A testosterone-soaked teen-aged boy would be combative. Aggressive. Most girls would throw snark or be defiant.

He braced to run after her if she jumped out of the tree and tried to flee.

Tensing, he watched as the leaves on the tree shook. She was getting ready to make a move. Tugging on Lainey’s hand, he stood up. Hurried over to the tree to cut off her escape route.

“Hey,” he said, looking up at a pair of worn sneakers and dirty, ragged jeans. “We’re not going to hurt you. Would you like us to call the sheriff for you?”

The girl -- up close he saw her feminine features -- shook her head so vigorously that an apple she’d been holding dropped to the ground and rolled to his feet. Brody picked it up. “This all you been eating?” he asked quietly.

The girl clutched another apple in her hand. Took a defiant bite. “I like apples.”

Lainey let go of his hand and moved to the base of the trunk. “If you don’t want us to call the sheriff, can we call your parents?”

The girl shook her head again. “Don’t have any.”

Had her parents abandoned her? Died? Brody opened his mouth to ask, but Lainey squeezed his hand. Without looking at Brody, she said, “There are people in Helena who can help you. Foster homes. Group homes.”

“I’m not going to any fucking home.” The girl hurled the apple, and it flew past Lainey’s head.

Brody didn’t think she was trying to hit Lainey, but he moved closer to her. Wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He was a bigger target. Any more thrown apples would be more likely to hit him.