Liam looked out the window, where late afternoon light slanted through the glass. It had to be near dinnertime. “One slip, one bad call…” He trailed off, his fingers drumming against the iPad. “I need to go back and talk to Nimue. See if she’s got any wider shots, something that shows the terrain, proves their precise location.”
Noah’s brow lifted. “Already on a first-name basis?”
“It’s not like that. Our paths have just crossed a few times. She’s the one who found that little girl last week. And get this—she owns the bus we were looking for.”
“So the girl who has surveillance-quality photos of these kids is the same one who has satellites on her rig, and now you’re telling me she’s the person who was in the mysterious vanishing Instagram post?”
He’d forgotten he’d talked to Noah about the photo—the one that had popped up on his phone, tagged with his name when they’d helped Lily find her mom. A candid shot of Nimue gripping his arm, pulling him from the crowd. It had vanished before he could save it. Not just that one—all of the photos had vanished, like they’d never existed.
“Probably nothing, but you have to admit there’s a lot that doesn’t add up with this girl.”
Liam’s jaw twitched. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
The more he learned, the more Nimue became a puzzle he couldn’t fit together.
“Any chance you have a last name?”
“Nope.” And even with a unique name like hers, she was a ghost online. He’d scoured the internet for any trace—Nimuewith hashtags for the Grand Canyon, hiking, anything. Nothing. Either she didn’t do social media, or…Nope. Even now he couldn’t come up with an alternative. She was a complete ghost.
“You think she’s hiding something?” Noah asked, studying him.
“I don’t know.” Liam stood, grabbed his pack, and slid the iPad inside. “But I need to find out. And I need to get this back to her anyway.”
Noah offered a quick nod before claiming the chair behind the desk. “Go talk to her. I’ll keep an eye on things here. Maybe she’s got those wider shots you need. Or maybe she’ll let something slip.”
Liam needed to figure out how to get her to trust him. Open up. But after he returned this iPad, he had no real reason to go back other than stalking. That didn’t exactly promote trust.
Liam slung the pack over his shoulder. He was ready to ask a few more questions. His instincts told him there was a bigger picture, one he wasn’t seeing yet.
Teague appeared in the doorway like a jack-in-the-box. “We’re leaving Saturday at six a.m. Don’t be late.”
Noah sighed. “Why did I ever let you talk me into bungee jumping?”
“Because it’s going to be awesome.” A full grin spread across Teague’s face. He looked to Liam for confirmation.
Liam nodded and forced what he hoped looked like a convincing smile. If he could get back to being that adrenaline junkie he’d once been, maybe then the nightmares would stop. “I’ll be there.”
Twenty minutes later, gravel crunched under the tires of Liam’s ranger truck as he pulled up beside Nimue’s bus, dust swirling in the late afternoon sun. He spotted her immediately, standing near the trailhead, chest rising and falling, sweat gleaming on her skin like she’d just finished a run. Her tank top clung to her frame, and her dark-brown eyes sharpened as she noticed him, wariness flickering across her face.
Liam stepped out, his six-foot-two frame unfolding from the truck, and her gaze swept over him—quick, assessing, maybe something more—and it stirred heat in his chest that he hadn’t expected.
He leaned against the truck, his posture casual but deliberate, and held up her iPad. “Got any wider shots of those kids?”
Nimue took a slow sip from her water bottle, her movements measured, like she was buying time to craft a believable answer. Finally, she lowered the bottle, that too-casual mask he’d become familiar with sliding back into place.
“Photography’s just a hobby.” Her tone was light, almost teasing. “I’m into portraits. Faces tell stories. Didn’t think to zoom out.”
“Of course.” Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly. The photos were too precise, too intentional for a casual hobbyist. But pushing her now would only make her clam up, so he pivoted, nodding toward the trail. “How far did you run?”
“Three miles, give or take.”
“You shouldn’t be out here alone. The trails are rough—loose rocks, snakes, not to mention the edge. One misstep, and you’re done.”
She laughed, sarcastic and defiant, planting a hand on her hip. “I’m living out here alone, Liam. Unless you’re volunteering to run with me, that’s how it’s gonna be.”
Liam should have let it drop. He didn’t need another complication, but Noah also wanted him to keep an eye on her.
“All right.” The words slipped out before he could reconsider. “I’ll run with you.”