“Agent Reyes,” the marshal said, holding up the items. “We found these abandoned near the creek bed. There’s a set of footprints leading toward the state highway.”

Reyes popped the latches on the briefcase right there on the hood of the SUV.

The bright headlights illuminated the contents.

Inside were neat, banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills and a fake passport with Logan’s photograph under a different name.

“Looks like your youngest son was preparing to run,” Reyes said, looking at Walter.

Walter closed his eyes, his shoulders sinking as if the weight of the sky had fallen on him.

“Where is he, Walter?” Jake asked, stepping forward. “Where is Logan going?”

Walter kept his mouth shut, his jaw clenched tight.

“We’ll find him,” Reyes said. “We have state troopers blocking the highway exits.”

A loud burst of static came from the marshal’s radio.

“Command, this is Unit Four,” a voice crackled. “We have a visual on a vehicle approaching the property from the secondary access road.”

Everyone went silent.

“Is it Logan?” Reyes asked into his collar mic.

“Negative,” the radio responded. “It’s a civilian vehicle. It’s moving fast.”