I flung the door open, but the tail lights were already disappearing around the bend of the coastal road.

The exhaust fumes lingered in the cold air, smelling of burning oil.

I stood there, the wind whipping my jacket against my sides.

They had her.

I walked back into the boatyard, my chest heaving.

Caleb was still huddled against the crate, looking up at me with pale, hollow eyes.

“I told you,” Caleb said, his voice trembling.

“Wade doesn’t play games.”

“He’s got the whole department under his thumb.”

I walked over to him, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, and hauled him to his feet.

“You’re coming with me,” I said.

“No, please, Daniel,” Caleb begged.

“If Margaret finds out I talked, she’ll have me put in the harbor.”

“Then you better hope we get to my son before she finds out,” I said.

I dragged him toward my truck, which was hidden behind the rusted stack of shipping containers.

The rain started to fall again, cold and sharp like needles against my face.