Page 120 of Riptide
Tom sat at his laptop, red-eyed and rumpled, running yet another search that would probably come up empty. Piper was curled in the corner chair, half-asleep, her phone dangling from limp fingers. Tom had made her rest on the basement couch, but a light nap wasn't enough for a sixteen-year-old who'd been awake for two days.
Lord, I don't know what to do.Cara closed her eyes, the prayer rising up before she could stop it.We found the truth, but it doesn't matter. Jessica's gone. And I'm so tired I can barely think.
She paused, searching for words that wouldn't come.
Please just... help me get through this day. Help me trust that You're still in control, even when nothing makes sense. Even when the bad guys win.
Even when I'm not sure who the bad guys are anymore.
She opened her eyes as footsteps sounded overhead. A moment later, Gabe descended the stairs, his face tight with frustration.
"Tyler's issued a BOLO," he said without preamble. "Jessica Forsythe, silver Prius, photo and description sent to state police, airports, bus stations, border crossings."
"And?" Wade asked, straightening from his lean against the wall.
"And nothing. Two days is a long head start." Gabe ran a hand through his hair. "She could be in Canada by now. Mexico. Anywhere."
"So we just wait?" Reagan's voice was sharp with exhaustion. "Hope she surfaces?"
"I'm monitoring everything I can," Tom said, his voice hoarse. "Credit cards, phone pings, social media. If she uses anything digital, I'll know."
"And if she stays dark?" Piper mumbled from her corner, not quite awake.
No one answered. Because there was no good answer.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
"This is pointless." Wade pushed off the wall. "We're chasing a ghost. She planned this for months. She's not going to slip up now."
"He's right." Reagan grabbed her jacket. "We need sleep. Real sleep. Come at this fresh tomorrow."
Tom nodded slowly, then looked at Piper. "Come on, kiddo. I'm taking you home."
"But—"
"You can barely keep your eyes open." His voice was gentle but firm. "We'll pick this up later."
Piper looked ready to argue, but exhaustion won out. She gathered her things, shooting Cara a frustrated look. "Call me if anything happens?"
"Promise."
Wade caught Reagan's eye. "I'll follow you out. I need some sleep before I'll be any use to anyone."
The team filtered toward the stairs—Tom and Piper first, then Wade and Reagan. The basement fell quiet.
Gabe lingered.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, moving closer.
"Honestly?" Cara stared at the dregs of her coffee. "I had nightmares all night. Blaire and Jessica, standing on a cliff, waiting for me to join them."
"Cara..."
Gabe was quiet for a moment. Then he pulled a chair close to hers and sat, their knees almost touching.
"You didn't push her off that cliff." His hand found hers on the table. Warm. Steady. "Feeling relieved that a threat is gone isn't the same as wanting someone dead."
Cara wanted to believe him so badly her chest ached.
