While Todd and his men zoomed off with their sirens blaring to check out a lead, Grady rounded up his family at the diner to organize the search.

The atmosphere was tense as they walked in. Conversation stopped and the locals eyed them with suspicion.

Pastor Patterson and his wife sat in a booth, surrounded by a circle of church members who alternately prayed and comforted them.

Grady took a deep breath and sliced through the crowd toward them. He held out his hand and said, “Grady Hart. I’m here to help you find your daughter.”

“Is it true?” Pastor Patterson said. “You’re Jessie’s biological father and you’re suing us for custody of Jessie?”

The crowd drew in a collective breath, and an uneasy hush fell across the entire diner.

“I’m here to help find Jessie.” Grady kept his hand extended. “Right now, there’s a scared little girl out there, lonely and lost. I don’t want to think about the monster who has his hands on her.”

“We must keep praying,” Mrs. Patterson blubbered, fanning herself. “Ask God to put a hedge of protection around our little Jessie.”

“Mark Patterson.” The pastor reluctantly shook Grady’s hand. “You haven’t answered my question. Are you Jessie’s biological father?”

“I might be,” Grady said. “But right now, we need to find her. What I want to know is where Betsy is. Is she at home or at the church, or is she also missing?”

“Betsy!” Mrs. Patterson clapped a hand on her chest. “Why, Jessie brought her to church and she was playing with the other dogs. Mark, we plumb forgot about her. Maybe she’s still back at the church.”

“She’s not there,” one of the praying church members said. “The police already came through and searched the property. Everyone took their dogs, and I thought you guys took Betsy home already.”

“Damn!” Grady said. “If the dogs were there, it means they trust or know the kidnapper. Otherwise, how could he or she have pulled it off?”

“Right, I’m sure Betsy would have barked up a storm,” Pastor Patterson said. “What do we do now?”

“We organize search parties,” Grady said. “Let’s divide the town into sectors. We go door-to-door asking residents if they saw either Jessie, Betsy, or little Ginger. We have pictures of Ginger from the website and also Betsy from when she was lost.”

“Let’s do it.” The pastor stood and put on his suit jacket. “Everyone keep praying, but I’m going with Mr. Hart.”

Grady and the pastor quickly organized his family and the congregation. Everyone was equipped with pictures of Jessie, Linx, Betsy, Cedar, and little Ginger. The pastor had ready-made maps he used for soul-winning and he passed them out to the team.

After adding their cell phone numbers to a group chat, the civilian search party spread out from the diner and headed to their assigned sector. Grady fetched Sam from Dale, who had, along with Connor and Brian, recovered all of the missing dogs by luring them with beef jerky.

“Where are we going to search?” Mark asked Grady. “I checked with the neighbors and they haven’t seen Betsy either.”

“I’m going to the campground and find out if anyone has seen Betsy.”

“Shouldn’t we look for Jessie instead of Betsy?” The pastor looked perplexed.

“The police are all looking for Jessie, but I have a hunch.” Grady opened the door of his pickup and Sam jumped in. “I may be wrong, but Linx told me once that Jessie said she wanted to live with Betsy in a fairy wagon deep in the woods.”

Grady started the truck and drove to the Kingman Camping Area.

They fanned out, asking campers if they’d seen Jessie, Betsy, and Ginger, but the police had already been there, and no one claimed to have seen the three of them.

“It’s no use,” Mark said. “I doubt the kidnapper would have taken them here with so many witnesses.”

“I wish Linx had told me more,” Grady said. It was getting dark, so he flicked on his flashlight. “I must be missing something.”

“You think Jessie followed Betsy to a hiding place? But what about the missing puppy and the bandana on the fence?”

“That could have been left there from before, when Jessie opened all of the gates,” Grady said. “But you have a point. Who opened the gates and let the dogs out, and who took the puppy?”

“Linx must have.” Mark’s jaw stiffened and he grabbed Grady too hard, whirling him around. “We trusted her with Jessie. Never thought she’d hurt her.”

“She wouldn’t.” Grady pulled out his cell phone and called Linx. This time, it rolled straight to voice mail. “Dang, she’s turned off her phone.”

“We’re not going to get anything done here,” the pastor said. “I’m going to check in with the police to see if they have anything. The kidnapper could be miles away by now.”

“Or right under our noses,” Grady said. “I keep feeling the dogs have something to do with it.”

Beside him, Sam grunted and huffed as he put his nose to the ground and sniffed.

* * *

Miles rolled by as Linx drove through the Nevada desert. The sky had darkened into dusk, and the ghostly hills on the horizon barely dented the big, black sky above.

Tears rolled down her face as the cruel words of her mother taunted her. How could she hate her so much?

From the sound of it, she also hated the Colsons—including her dad, calling them goody-two-shoes. She never imagined her mother could store up all that spite.

The Colsons were the original settlers in town and the most prominent residents. Her uncle was the mayor, and her grandfather had even been a congressman. Her family also toiled the land, built the towns, fought the fires, and operated the businesses.

She had always been proud of her family. But Mean Minx said she wasn’t one of them—that she was pretending to be a Colson. What had she meant?

Linx’s breath stilled inside her, hardly daring to stir as a new thought took root. Suppose she, Linx, wasn’t a real Colson. Then who was she? And where had she come from?

Her heartbeat stuttered as a deer leaped across the road. She slammed on the brakes and swerved, narrowly avoiding the animal.

How did her mother know about Grady and the dog unless she’d been spying on her? Or maybe one of her siblings spoke to her and told her everything?

Or, maybe she was the one who burned down the cabin and left the railroad spike cross to taunt her. But why hurt Grady when it was she her mother hated?

Duh, of course. Minx must have figured out that Linx loved Grady.

Cedar whined and Linx realized she hadn’t fed the dog or taken her on a bathroom break. It would be miles before another exit, so she pulled to the side of the road and led Cedar onto barren landscape.

“Sorry, girl. I need to find food, too. Kind of skipped dinner.” She stared up at the rising moon and the distant stars while large semis whooshed by.

Linx leaned against her SUV as a wave of exhaustion and fatigue pressed down on her. Her mother’s words washed over her. No one will ever trust you. No one will ever believe in you.

“No one will ever love me,” Linx spoke the omen aloud. “Because I turned out just like you.”

Cedar finished her business and rubbed her nose against Linx’s hand.

“You’re kind of stuck with me, aren’t you?” Linx bent down and let her lick her face. “I wonder how Ginger’s doing. I hope Nessa found someone to feed her. Crap. I am just like Minx. I abandoned all my dogs except for you.”

Worry hovered at the edge of her mind. Poor little Ginger could be starving and crying for food, and here she was with another hungry dog out in the middle of the desert.

Meanwhile, if her mother was lurking around her cabin, she could be planning her next step to hurt those Linx loved: Ginger, the dogs, Jessie, and of course, Grady.

Cedar nosed her and nudged her, licking her hand, and a fury of anger boiled inside her gut.

She wasn’t going to be like her mother.

She was a Colson like her father.

A hard-working, honest, loyal, and brave frontier-woman. She had a heritage—a proud one, and she was just as courageous as the strong women who tamed the wilderness.

And most of all, she was not Mean Minx.

She would face her problems head on and stand her ground. Like red, white, and blue, her colors didn’t run.

She had to go back.

Linx turned on her phone and it chimed continuously with a stream of messages. Her eyes zeroed in on Grady’s.

If he needed her to testify that she had lied to the court, she would. She would pay for her mistakes, but she would never, ever run again.

Her phone rang and she answered it.

“Linx!” Grady’s voice snapped her from her stupor. “Is Jessie with you? We’re all looking for her.”

“Wait, what? Jessie?” Every nerve ending pinched and fired at the same time. “What happened?”

“She’s missing. We can’t find her. I’m with her dad, searching the campgrounds. Didn’t you say something about her and Betsy running away together?” Grady’s voice tumbled, out almost incoherent.

“You mean she ran away?” Linx’s heart jolted against her ribcage. “Did you call the police?”

“The police are looking for her. Ginger’s also missing. Did you go to the center after leaving your father’s house?”

“No, I’m in Nevada. What’s this about Jessie? It’s getting dark,” Linx wailed. “I have to come back and help find her.”

“You said something about Jessie and castles in the mountain, caves or something?”

“She talks about fairy wagons,” Linx said. “Gypsy wagons with stars and moons. She has a great imagination, but it’s all a fantasy world. She doesn’t know any real gypsies.”

“But she likes to wander off,” Grady said.

“She knows her way around town and usually pops in at the center,” Linx said. “But not this late. What if it’s worse? What if someone kidnapped her?”

“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Grady said. “You have to come back.”

In the background, she heard other male voices.

“Mark wants to talk to you,” Grady said. “I’ll hand you over.”

“Okay.” Linx waited, her pulse surging in every artery until Mark got on the line. “Mark? What happened to Jessie? I’m really worried.”

“You don’t have her? Is she in the back of your SUV? Anywhere?”

“I didn’t see her, but I can check,” Linx said. “Cedar’s with me. She would have alerted.”

Linx opened her tailgate and peered inside. There was no sign of anyone.

“No one here. I’m really getting worried.”

“Did Jessie ever tell you where the fairy wagons are?” Mark asked.

“No, but it’s a make-believe world. She tells me stories and we add to it together.”

“Humor me,” Mark said. “Where does she say these wagons are?”

“In the deep, dark woods, so far away that no one can find the way. She has a nice fairy godmother who gives her sweet cookies. Her hair looks like spider legs, and she wears a dress made of colorful ribbons. I thought it was her imagination.” Linx’s voice trailed off. “What if it’s one of the transient people who hang out at the campground?”

“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Pastor Mark said. “I’ll pass this information to your brother.”

“I have to get back and help find her.”

“If you think of something, let us know,” Mark said. “By the way, I need to ask you something. Jean and I are very upset you didn’t tell us.”

“Tell you what?”

“Is Grady Hart Jessie’s biological father?” The pastor sounded stern and accusing. “How come you told us you didn’t know who he was? How could you have let us adopt Jessie without consent of the father?”

“I’m sorry. I lied, but I’ll make up for it. I’ll do anything you want,” Linx pleaded, her heart wrung out and dry. “But please, don’t take it out on Grady. He deserves to know the truth, and he’ll be wonderful with Jessie. You can ban me for the rest of my life, but don’t take her away from Grady. Don’t.”

“We can talk about this later. After we find Jessie.”