Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(49)

I hurried to switch over to the radio. “Shots fired at the McHenry home on Alpine Drive. I’m getting an address now.”

It was only blocks from the station. Officers could be there in under a minute. Everyone would be okay.

A series of muted pops sounded over the phone line as officers, including Lawson, responded to the call on the radio.

“Did you hear that?” Mr. Dwyer barked. “That was more.”

“I heard it, sir. Officers are responding. Can you see anyone at the house?”

“I—I don’t think so—wait! Someone’s heading out the back door. They’re wearing a black hoodie.”

I quickly typed the description into our computer system so the officers had it. I could hear the sirens, both leaving the station and near Mr. Dwyer’s home.

“I see a squad car. They’re here.”

“Please stay in your home with the door locked, Mr. Dwyer. An officer will come to speak to you as soon as they’re able.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He didn’t hang up. “I’m shaking.”

Shock. It was beyond understandable. “Can you get yourself some water and take a seat?”

“Water?”

“Or just take a seat. I don’t want you passing out on me.” I typed in a request for the EMTs to check out Mr. Dwyer, just to be safe.

Voices sounded over the radio, officers entering the McHenry house.

“I can do that.”

I forced myself to focus on Mr. Dwyer. “Nice and easy.”

A shuffling sounded in the background, then a cabinet opening and closing before a chair squeaked.

“Slow sips,” I instructed.

“That helps.”

“I’m glad.”

A knock sounded.

“Someone’s at my door.”

“Mr. Dwyer,” a familiar voice called. “This is Officer Jones. I’m here to take your statement and do a medical check.”

Jones was one of the police officers with senior medical training, and I let out a breath, knowing Mr. Dwyer would be in good hands. “You can open the door. That’s one of my colleagues.”

“Thank you—I—thank you.”

“Of course. Stay safe, Mr. Dwyer.”

I disconnected the call the moment I heard Officer Jones inside the home. My fingers found the volume for the radio, and I clicked it up.

Familiar voices crackled across the line, calling out different rooms as clear.

“I’ve got a body,” someone said. “Downstairs bedroom.” A pause. “No pulse. She’s gone.”

“Hell, she’s in a hospital bed connected to oxygen. Who would do something like this?” another voice asked.

Nausea swept through me. Gretchen’s mom. The woman with heart failure that Gretchen had been caring for every single day for the past two years.

“Kitchen,” a shaky voice came across the radio. “Th-there’s no way she’s alive. Oh, God. I can’t—I think I’m gonna be sick.”

The person cut out as someone said the name I’d been dreading.

“It’s Gretchen.”





23





HOLT





“Told you that you wouldn’t be as rusty as you thought,” Nash said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the mountain road.

It had been a rush to be back with the SAR team, using a combination of old instincts paired with the new skills I’d learned in the Marines and running security details. It all came together in a way that almost felt meant to be.

I reached back and scratched Shadow’s head. “This here is the real star of the show. She was picking up scents like you wouldn’t believe.”

Nash threw a grin over his shoulder at the dog. “That’s because I’m your favorite, right? You just had to find me.”

I chuckled. Shadow hadn’t been the one to find Nash first, but she had shown signs of following his trail, which was pretty incredible for her first time out. With a little training, she would be a first-rate SAR dog.

“So…” Nash began. “What do you think about that job opening?”

It had been circling in my brain since the moment he’d mentioned it. I opened my mouth to answer him when the radio in Nash’s SUV beeped.

Wren’s voice came across the speaker. “Shots fired at the McHenry home on Alpine Drive. I’m getting an address now.”

Nash cursed, pulling the radio out of its cradle and pressing a button. “Officer Hartley responding. I’m fifteen minutes out.”

McHenry. The name swirled around in my brain as my blood went cold. Gretchen. The girl Randy and Paul had gone after simply for ruining the curve in their chemistry class. She’d had the least severe injuries of all those who’d gotten hurt that night. Because she’d made a run for the lake and hidden under her neighbor’s dock for an hour before the police had arrived, and she’d felt safe enough to come out.

She’d had a graze on her shoulder and a mild case of hypothermia but, otherwise, was okay. That might not be the case now.

I waited to hear Wren’s voice again, but there was nothing. Only messages I knew she had typed popping up on Nash’s dashboard computer. Nothing about them told me if she was okay. If this was wrecking her.