“Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

He sighs and looks at me. His eyes are resigned, and I think he’s accepted that they’ll be lucky to find one of the girls soon, let alone both of them. If they’re found at all.

“Nope. We’re doing everything we can—tracking their debit cards, their phones, and we have notices out for Toni’s car. Melissa’s is still at home.”

“Okay.” My phone vibrates, and I pull it out, reading the message from Alison. She just arrived with the kids. “Hey, where’s Trent?” I glance up.

Drake crooks his thumb over his shoulder toward the fair part. I text her back and tell her where he is, and she comes to meet me at the gate.

“Where’s Daddy?” Silvio asks, standing on his tiptoes to look at Drake.

Drake’s lips curl up to one side. “He told me he’s hiding. You gotta go find him.”

Silvio looks over the wall. “Help?” he directs to Drake when he sees how many people are there.

“Don’t tell him I told you, yeah?” Drake bends down and whispers something in Silvio’s ear.

“Ghost train!” my nephew shrieks. “Aria! Take me on it!”

My ten-year-old niece visibly recoils. “Ew, no. Mom,” she says turning to Alison, “Please can I go and meet my friends? He’ll just make me do stuff I don’t want to.”

Alison sways over the thought for a second. “Fine. You have one hour. Check in with your father or uncles in thirty minutes. Do you understand?”

Aria nods excitedly, heading past Drake.

“Make sure your phone on loud!” Alison yells, and Aria waves the device in the air.

“Pretty sure I had a Tamagotchi when I was ten,” I muse.

My sister-in-law sighs heavily. “Me too.”

Silvio pouts. “I wanted the ghost train,” he lisps.

Drake’s amused gaze is hot on me. Dammit, I can never resist that voice. None of the Bonds can, and Silvio, the dear, knows it. So does Drake, which is why he’s looking at me like he wants to laugh.

“All right, all right,” I give in when Silvio’s dark, little gaze hits mine. “I’ll take you.”

He runs into my legs and squeezes me tight. “Oh, Auntie Noelle, you’re the best!”

“Don’t say a word,” I hiss at Drake, pointing at him as Sil takes my hand and drags me past him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Drake responds, his shoulders shaking with his silent laughter.

Bastard. Total bastard.

My eldest brother has an almost identical expression on his face when we find him standing vigil outside the ghost train. Sil is bouncing with excitement, Alison looks grateful I’m being dragged on the damn thing, and I apparently look like I’m ready to go to bed.

Seriously. I don’t know how parents do it. I’ve been with a four-year-old for less than five minutes and I need a nap.

“Have fun,” Trent says, a wry smile on his face.

I flip him the bird.

The ghost train was not fun. Neither were the waltzes, the mini rollercoaster which goes surprisingly fast, or the other ride I don’t know the name of.

The teacups were good. I liked the teacups, mostly because I was the one in control.

What? I don’t like to spin after food.

Thankfully, my best friend turned up and informed me that there is a stall here run by a Mexican couple from Austin, and they happen to be selling frozen margaritas.

Frozen margaritas. Music to my fucking ears.

I find my way back to Drake with Bek by my side as the sun is lowering in the sky. I could go home, but I love this place too much. The smell, that is. Just the smell. Sigh. I keep thinking that, but it really is the best smell ever.

Except for cupcakes. And, right now, this mango margarita.

Drake’s eyes catch mine, and he shakes his head with a smile on his face when he sees us sipping on the frozen cocktails. “How did I know you’d find that stall?”

I hold my finger up and point it at Bek. “She found it.”

“Guilty as charged,” she admits, taking a long drink. She squeezes her eyes shut. “Brain freeze. Fuck it!”

I snort, and a tiny bit of the ice-cold drink makes its way up my nose from inside. “Ouch! Sinus freeze!”

Drake’s still shaking his head, except this time, it looks like pity. Entertained pity, admittedly. Then he freezes. His body goes rigid as he glances over our heads, his eyes scanning the crowd and his lips tightened into a thin line.

Uh-oh. I know that look.

I turn just in time to see Jessica barreling toward us. Yep. Now, I’m definitely glad I have the cocktail.

I bypass the straw and drink from the cup, thankful I passed on the salt. It’s gonna be salty enough with this woman around.

Her eyes are wide and wild, and she looks like she’s seen a ghost. “Drake!” she yells. “Oh my God.”

She arrives in front of him seconds before she passes out.

“Drama queen,” Bek mutters in my ear.

I nod in agreement, eyeing Drake as he hands her limp body to a paramedic. Apparently, they decided that this was a good place for an ambulance, because Jessica is laid down on a gurney and the woman gets to checking her vitals.

Drake glances at me. “Am I really that hot?” His eyes betray his attempt at humor.

“Well, I ain’t droppin’ at your feet any time soon.”

“Good. I hate it when women do that.” He moves to the paramedic and talks.

I hand Bek my now-empty cup and, with a touch of my own brain freeze, move toward where Jessica is lying down.

“She’s just fainted,” the paramedic reassures Drake. “Shock. Whatever it is that made her pass out, it isn’t good. She’s relatively responsive. She’ll come around in a few minutes.”

I touch my hand to Drake’s lower back. He casts me a look over his shoulder and reaches for my hand. He squeezes it quickly but tight.

The few minutes it takes for her to come around seem to last forever. Each one is filled with the thick taste of anticipation, but every second that passes is laced with fear, too. It coils deep in my stomach, the heavy feeling of despair setting low.

Drake doesn’t move until Jessica finally opens her eyes. “Talk. Now.”

He’s in cop mode. I could poke him and he wouldn’t notice.

Jessica shakily wipes her hand down her face. “In the—in the field. Behind the parking lot.”

When she doesn’t speak further, Drake snaps a, “What?”

Jessica takes a long moment, focused fully on him, and whispers, “Body.”

She doesn’t need to say more than that. Like a viper poised to attack, Drake takes off in the opposite direction, his radio to his mouth.

I spare a glance at Jessica then Bek. Then I follow him.

I’m desperately hoping she’s wrong. Or that my gut is. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that my gut is rarely ever wrong.

I find Drake jumping the hedge that separates the parking lot from the expansive field behind it. My lungs are burning from the exertion of my run across the fair, and I lean against the hedge to catch my breath.

“Don’t,” Drake orders when I look up. “Do not come into this field.” He lifts his radio and presses the button again. “Trent, I need you and—”

“Here,” Trent says behind me. He draws level with me, Brody on the other side of him.

Drake beckons them over the hedge, and they jump it easily. My heart thunders as they stop dead, and I wonder what they can see that I can’t, apart from the fact that there’s clearly a dead body in the long grass.

Trent radios for the forensics team and Tim, the town coroner

Oh, fuck this.

Preserving my modesty the best I can, I jump the hedge, too, losing my shoe in the process. I manage to retrieve it and put it back on before any of them notice, and I’m halfway to them when Drake looks up with fire in his eyes.

“Noelle,” he growls.

I stop. But not because of his warning.

Because I’m looking at a dead body, and if I’m not mistaken, it belongs to Toni Thompson.