The Countdown (The Taking #3)(17)

Well, I’d never been accused of being a genius.

Unlike the dog, Tyler waited to jump down until Ben Agnew had legitimately parked the truck. He glanced at me, which felt more like he was looking right through me, until his eyes landed on Griffin. “Where is everyone?”

I wanted to punch him. The first words out of his mouth should’ve been about her. About Kyra. This shouldn’t be about Blackwater or the other Returned.

I stepped into his line of sight and made him see me this time. “Tell me what happened.”

There was a slam, and Kyra’s dad came around the front of the truck. “We’re not sure exactly,” he said. “We stopped at this restaurant, off the interstate—”

I thought about the rules we’d had in place, the carefully drawn guidelines I’d laid out. “Why’d you stop? You weren’t supposed to be in public. No one should’ve seen you.”

Tyler answered this time. “We had to leave our campsite. Someone . . . I don’t know, something, maybe”—he shot a glance at Kyra’s dad before finishing—“found us.”

Griffin slipped in next to me. “What do you mean by thing?”

Tyler shook his head. “I wish I knew. Ben said they were trying to send a message to us . . . to Kyra.”

“The No-Suchers?” The idea of Agent Truman and his men getting their hands on Kyra made it hard to swallow for a second. I wanted to rip these guys’ throats out for letting her down this way.

But Tyler shook his head again.

“Who, then?” Griffin was so much calmer than I could manage. She almost sounded . . . gentle. “Did you get a good look at them? Do you know who took her?”

Ben answered. “I was trying to tell her what I heard at the campground—hikers maybe, with strange voices like static. I said I thought the aliens might be coming for her, but she didn’t want to hear it.” His eyes were watery as he rubbed his beard. “She needed a few minutes so she went to the bathroom. That’s when we heard the explosion out back. That’s when Kyra disappeared.”

“Jesus-H,” I exhaled. “So you thought something might be after her and you left her alone?”

“Just for a second,” Tyler explained. His expression was bruised, dark and heavy like storm clouds before a tornado sets down. “Only for a second. We looked everywhere for her, but she was gone.” His face crumpled.

Goddammit, I cursed in my head as I realized that whatever happened, he didn’t do it on purpose. The kid genuinely likes her.

Maybe I should step aside and let Griffin work her magic, get her hooks in the kid once and for all. Get him out of the way for me.

Then I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about his damn feelings. I could just swoop in and take his place with Kyra.

Or maybe I was a head case.

I shot a look at Griffin. Why hadn’t she told them what she knew, about the picture Jett had come across? I turned to Kyra’s dad. “What do you think happened to her?”

He looked lost. He reached down and scratched his dog’s head, seeking comfort in the one place he could still find it. “No idea. That’s when we called you. We were hoping you could help.”

Griffin stepped closer. Closer, namely, to Tyler. “Start at the beginning, at the campsite. Tell us everything you know.”

I bit my tongue through most of Ben’s explanation. Even after everything we knew . . . even knowing what we were . . . hearing him talking about those hikers and their strange voices, I had to admit he sounded like a nut job. I could see why Kyra needed to take a breather.

But that wasn’t what bugged me. I was sure I’d been called a nut job before, worse probably. Back in the day, as a recruiter for Blackwater, my role had been to explain what had happened to us—the abductions and the genetics modifications—to the newly Returned. Being called crazy was par for the course.

No, there was something else wrong with Ben’s account. Something in the way he told the story, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. My gut said Ben Agnew was lying . . .

No. Not lying . . . withholding.

I kept my eye on him, evaluating every action. Every mannerism—the way his eyes kept sliding back to us, watching us just as warily. The way he described their narrow escape, and then the diner explosion. How he talked about Kyra. I couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure him out. He loved his daughter, I didn’t doubt that, but did he know something more?

As far as I was concerned withholding at this point was just as bad as an outright lie. I didn’t tag him on it . . . not yet anyway. I let him talk. He got to the part where he hadn’t stopped Kyra from going to the restroom all by herself, and it was all I could do to keep myself from choking the guy. The both of them.

What had they been thinking? Especially if they seriously believed they’d been sniffed out by something trying to communicate in some sort of white noise?

Goddamn it!

“So what now?” I asked Griffin, bypassing the two jackasses who’d already managed to lose Kyra once.

She pursed her lips, and I wondered if her head was even in the game, or if her brain was scrambled from being so near Tyler again.

Jesus, what the hell was wrong with everyone? Was I the only rational one left around here?

When no one answered, my impatience reached the boiling point. “Nothing?” I prodded. “Then let me break it down for you. I think one of you knows more than you’re letting on.” With supreme discipline, I managed to keep from stabbing Kyra’s dad with my critical gaze. “But this isn’t the time to hold anything back. Kyra’s in trouble and if we don’t figure this thing out, who knows what they’re gonna do to her.”