Linx jumped back in her Durango and did an illegal move. She pulled onto the road and swerved across the grassy divider, zooming back the way she came.

This couldn’t be happening. Jessie. How could she be missing? Where had she gone? Who could have taken her?

More importantly, where would they hide her? Was there an evil person living in the campground they didn’t know about?

What if it were her mother?

Where would she hide?

Certainly not at a campground—that was for sure. It was too public and she would encounter too many people. She hated people. After all, that was why she left her huge family, wasn’t it?

Think. Think. Think.

A while later, Linx tore up the backroads, taking a shortcut to her father’s large spread of land. The wilderness had reclaimed portions of the former farm, and there was plenty of pastures and fields lying fallow.

She pulled open a rusty gate and bounced over the old rutted roads, passing storage sheds, broken down barns, and the ramshackle cabins where farm and ranch hands had lived in centuries past.

The road ended in an overgrown paddock, so Linx hiked the rest of the way with Cedar trotting at her side. She swung a steady arc with her flashlight, looking for a campsite.

Cedar bounded ahead and stopped in front of a fence post, sniffing it with interest. Had another dog been by to mark his territory?

Linx arced the light from the fence post to the rocky area in front of an abandoned shed. Her flashlight flickered. A damp wind whistled, wrapping around her while the sounds of the night, chirping and croaking, added to her uneasiness.

She stumbled on a rock and landed on her rump. When she brought up her hand, she smelled soot and ashes.

A campfire, and one that had been recently used.

Linx shone the dimming flashlight around and spotted tire ruts.

Someone, whether it was her mother or another vagrant, had been camping on the backlot of her father’s ranch.

She crept toward an abandoned storage shed and tripped over something round and metallic. In the dying light of her flashlight, she saw an acetylene tank—the type used for welding.

The flashlight went dark, and Cedar emitted a low growl. Linx froze, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Someone or something could be hidden in the storage shed.

An owl hooted and a soft flutter of wings whooshed by her as she pried open the rusted hasp. Beside her, Cedar was tense, her head down in a guarded position.

Linx pulled back the creaky door, hoping against hope she wasn’t too late and at the same time afraid of what she might find.

She woke up the phone and flashed its light inside the shed. Gasping and jumping out of her skin, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Bones. White, bleached bones hung from the rafters, some were tangled up with wires, and other pieces stuck through twisted pieces of metal. A large welded cross stood against the wall, ornamented with dry bones held in place with barbed wire.

Linx’s first instinct was to turn tail and run, but she had to be brave. If Jessie were somehow hidden here, she would never be able to forgive herself if she didn’t find her.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the shed, forcing herself to look at each hideous sculpture.

* * *

“There’s an artist’s cabin on the property,” Grady said to Pastor Mark as they got into his truck with Sam. “Linx’s sister said she went there to hide when she was little.”

“But we’re looking for Jessie, not Linx,” Mark said. He glanced at his cell phone. “We’re coming up empty everywhere we look.”

“Tell me more about Jessie. Is she always disappearing like Linx used to?” Grady asked.

“I wouldn’t call it disappearing,” the pastor said. “She likes to wander around the town. We know everyone and didn’t believe we needed to keep her confined the way parents in the city do. Everyone knows everyone, and Jessie likes visiting people she knows.”

“Except there are tourists and outsiders at the campgrounds.” Grady’s jaw tightened. “How could you let a five-year-old wander around by herself?”

“Don’t start.” The pastor huffed. “As I said, this is a very safe place. We go door-knocking at all the houses in town, and everyone knows Jessie. We look out for each other here.”

“Except no one knows where Jessie is,” Grady said. He checked the group message. “Tell me about this fairy godmother Linx says she talks about.”

“She’s never told us about any of her imaginary friends,” Mark said. “Anyway, we’re wasting our time. Let me call the sheriff and see what he’s come up with.”

“You do that, and I’ll call Linx.” Grady told his phone to call Linx.

“Anything?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“No, nothing. We’ve gone over the entire campground. How about you? Where are you?”

“I found a storage shed full of bones and twisted metal. I’m really scared.”

“Where?”

“Eastern side of the creek where the ranch hands used to live, but she’s not there. I found a recent campfire.”

“Wait, you say bones? What kind of bones?” Grady’s scalp prickled with chills.

“Bones used as artwork. I don’t know what kind.”

“You stay safe,” Grady said. “I saw burned bones, and I tripped over crosses made from railroad spikes at the artist’s cabin. You know where that is?”

“Sure, it’s down the creek from here. Want to meet me there?”

“You know what I think, don’t you?”

“Yes, my mother might be involved. I’m really scared,” Linx said. “What if she’s taking revenge on us?”

Mark tapped Grady. “Hey, shouldn’t we tell the sheriff?”

“Linx, you stay put. We’re on our way.” To Mark, he said. “She’s headed to the artist’s cabin, and yes, we should let Todd know.”

Mark spoke to Todd and nodded. “He knows where it is. He says to meet him at the gate.”

“Linx, don’t go anywhere. We’re on our way,” Grady said.

Mark tapped his shoulder. “Ask her about the fairy godmother.”

“Jessie says she has a fairy godmother and a gypsy wagon,” Grady said to Linx. “Do you think it could be your mother?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Should I call her? I don’t want to tip her off.”

“Wait, you can call her? The police might be able to lock in on her if you talk to her.” Grady motioned for Mark to listen in. “Go ahead, Linx, call your mother and talk to her as long as you can.”

“Sure, I will,” Linx agreed. “I’ll keep her on the line as long as it takes to trace her.”

Mark relayed the information to Todd, as Grady sped the truck down the steep, winding road, racing his heart around the turns.

Please, please, please don’t let them be too late.