Jesus, he hadn’t even thought of that. The boy had been missing since Sunday, gone, taken before he began his newspaper route.

“No, I don’t think so,” Nick told her. Even the FBI was certain the boy had more than likely been taken by his father, who they were still trying to locate. It was a simple custody battle. And this was simply teenage kids playing tricks on each other.

“I might be a while, but you’re welcome to stay.”

He grabbed the keys to his Jeep and found Ashford sitting on the front steps, his face buried in his hands.

“Let’s go.” Nick gently yanked a handful of sweatshirt and pulled the boy to his feet. “Why don’t the two of you get in with me.”

Nick wished he had taken time to put on underwear. Now, in the cramped Jeep, the stiff denim scraped against him every time he put the clutch in and shifted. To make matters worse, Old Church Road was filled with ruts from the rains of the week before. The gravel popped against the Jeep as he weaved from side to side, avoiding the deep gashes in the road.

“What exactly were you two doing out on this washboard?” As soon as he said it, he realized the obvious. He didn’t need to be seventeen to remember all the benefits of an old deserted gravel road. “Never mind,” he added before either of them had time to answer. “Just tell me where I’m going.”

“It’s about another mile, just past the bridge. There’s a pasture road that runs along the river.”

“Sure, okay.”

He noticed Ashford wasn’t stuttering anymore. Perhaps he was sobering up. The girl, however, who sat between Nick and the boy, hadn’t said a word.

Nick slowed down as the Jeep bumped across the wood-slatted bridge. He found the pasture road even before Ashford pointed it out. They bounced and slid over the dirt road that consisted of rutted tire tracks filled with muddy water.

“All the way down to the trees?” Nick glanced at Ashford, who only nodded and stared straight ahead. As they approached the shelter belt, the girl hid her face in the boy’s sweatshirt.