That night, Trinity made a sincere and urgent request to the citizens of Denton to gather to search for the two missing women. Her face was now on the news practically every time Josie turned it on. Even national news shows tapped her for their ongoing coverage of the madness taking hold of central Pennsylvania. As Trinity gave her report, photos of Isabelle and Misty appeared to the right of her head. Beneath their smiling faces the word “Vanished” appeared. Then it was replaced by the Denton PD tip line number.

Josie watched the broadcast from beside Carrieann in the ICU waiting room. The doctors had reduced Luke’s medication hours earlier; now they just had to wait and hope he woke up on his own. They took turns sitting by his bedside until the nurses kicked them out during shift change so they could bring their incoming replacements up to date.

The two women sat silently side by side, staring up at the television, watching Trinity Payne’s special news bulletin about the missing women and the rest of the unfolding events in Denton.

“Boss?” Noah appeared in the ICU waiting room doorway.

Josie’s heart jumped into her throat. If Noah had driven all the way to the hospital it couldn’t be good news. Had they found Isabelle Coleman? Was she dead? She excused herself and went out into the hallway with him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He held up a plastic baggie with a cell phone inside it. “I thought you might want this.”

She stared dumbly at the phone, completely confused. All she could think about was Isabelle Coleman. “I don’t get it. Did you find Coleman? Or Misty?”

Now it was Noah’s turn to look baffled. “What? No.” He shook the baggie. “The FBI found your cell phone. They’re done processing it. I thought you might want it back.”

Slowly she reached out and took the bag. She’d been using a temporary, department-issued cell phone. Only Lisette, Noah, Trinity, Carrieann, and Holcomb had the number. With everything going on, her actual cell phone had been the furthest thing from her mind. But as she took it out, she remembered all the photos of her and Luke she had on it and was grateful that Noah had come all this way to return it to her.

She looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said.

With his good hand he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a charger and cord. “You’ll need this,” he said.

Impulsively, she rocked up onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek. His face turned fire-engine red. “What was… What was that for?”

“For being one of the good guys.”

---

Noah sat with her for a while but then had to return to Denton to oversee things while she stayed at the hospital for the night. She left her phone charging beneath a chair in the ICU waiting room. Once the nursing staff changed over, she and Carrieann resumed their vigil at Luke’s bedside, trading off every couple of hours. He had slightly fewer tubes and wires coming out of him than before, so Josie was able to get close enough to hold his hand and speak softly to him. She talked endlessly. Not about all the horrific things she had been through since his shooting, but about all the things they would do together when he woke up, and about how maybe she would take up fishing instead of knitting, and they could have a hobby together. She was only half-joking.

She was dozing when the nurse came in around five in the morning to tell her it was Carrieann’s turn to sit with Luke. As she stood to go, Luke squeezed her hand.

Josie screamed, causing Carrieann to come hurtling into the room. What followed was the kind of jumping-up-and-down, bear-hugging, chest-bumping, high-pitched-squealing celebration that normally accompanied the winning Super Bowl team. The nurse checked Luke over thoroughly, called his name into his face fifteen times and shone a small flashlight into both of his eyes, but there was no more response than that. Still, it was a start. It was enough for Josie.

She left Carrieann weeping and trembling with excitement by his side and ran into the waiting room to get her cell phone so she could call Noah. Her fingers tapped impatiently against the phone case as she waited for it to boot up. A glance at the television showed the six a.m. news. More Trinity Payne. The phone had been dead a long time. As the screen flashed on, the photo of her and Luke beneath the icons sent even more euphoria surging through her. He had squeezed her hand. He was in there. He was going to be okay.

Notifications from the last week started pouring in. Missed texts and missed calls. She saw the little number at the upper right-hand corner of the phone icon tick upward. Three, seven, twelve, seventeen, twenty-two. The missed calls stopped at fifty-seven.

Josie pressed the icon and pulled up the missed call log. It went from most recent to oldest. The most recent call had come in an hour ago. In fact, forty-nine of the calls were from the same person. A tiny photo of Chief Wayland Harris showed beside the number. Above the number was the name she had assigned in her phone’s contacts: Chief (Lodge).