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Of course, he realized. What probably happened was, the mini-market didn’t have the Gatorade he’d asked for, so Harp must have taken it upon himself to find it elsewhere. That sounded just like him.

Barney slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to go back inside, but he paused before grabbing the knob.

Yes, it did make sense, but…better to check, right?

He went down the stairs, peeked into the motel office in case Harp was in there, then walked across the street and into the market.

The cashier was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading a copy of Entertainment Weekly. Instead of bothering him, Barney did a quick search through the store.

Harp wasn’t there, and there was plenty of Gatorade in the refrigerated section.

“Excuse me,” he said to the clerk when he got back up front.

The guy looked up, startled, and jumped off his stool. “Sorry. Find everything you need?”

“Actually, I’m wondering if a man came in here about forty-five minutes ago and bought some water and Gatorade. He’d be about my age, an inch or two shorter than me, but with more hair.”

“No, not that I can remember.”

“You’re sure?”

The guy shrugged. “The only people in here during the last hour were a couple of my friends, and a woman with two kids. No older guy. And I haven’t sold any Gatorade all day.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I must have gotten the store wrong, Barney thought as he went back outside.

He looked up and down the block. There was a gas station with a little store attached on the neighboring corner, and another about a block down. Barney tried both, but no one had seen Harp.

No longer just a little worried, he called the hospital, but no one had been admitted all morning. He then tried the police, who’d had no reports involving an elderly gentleman.

Hurrying back to their motel room, he hoped that somehow they’d crossed paths without realizing it, but when he opened the door, everything was the same as it had been when he left.

Harp, where are you?

He did the only other thing he could think of and called Logan, but like with the call to Harp, he was put through to voice mail.

“Logan, it’s Barney. Call me as soon as you get this. I don’t know, but I think something might have happened to your dad. I can’t find him. Call me. Please.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The buzz sounded like it was coming from under Erica’s seat. It was rhythmic-on, off, on, off-and after the fourth buzz, it stopped.

She thought maybe something had gotten stuck beneath the car, vibrated against the undercarriage, and finally fallen free.

But then there were two more, both the buzzes and the gaps between shorter this time.

She pulled to the side of State Route 64, climbed out of the car, and checked to see if she could find the source.

Her first instinct had been right. It had been wedged beneath her seat. A cell phone.

Harper’s or Martin’s.

She tried to activate the display but the cell was password protected. Not a big deal. There were ways of getting around that if need be.

She opened the back door. On the floor were the other phone and the men’s wallets and keys. She grabbed the second cell and put both of them on the front passenger seat. If they rang again, she wanted to see who was calling. That might come in handy.

She decided to check the tracking device before she pulled back onto the road, and was glad she did. Harper’s car was stopped about seven miles ahead. She watched it, waiting to see if it moved again, but it didn’t.

Ever since they’d turned off the interstate, Erica had known she’d made the right choice to follow them. If last night’s events had scared off Harper and his friend, they would still be on I-40, heading back to California. But a detour toward the Grand Canyon, the park where Diana had once worked? To her, that had to mean they were still on Sara’s trail.

She checked the monitor again. Harper’s car had not moved. Were they waiting for something? Perhaps Sara herself? There was no way she’d learn that from the device in her hand. She needed to see with her own eyes.

She pulled back onto the road, nearly cutting off a camper. The other driver laid on his horn and shouted silently at her through the window, but he disappeared as Erica sped away.

Every few seconds, she would glance at the monitor. When the dot was only a mile and a half away, she gazed ahead, trying to pick out the El Camino in the distance. But though the view was clear, there were enough dips and turns in the road to make it impossible to see the other vehicle. The terrain caused another problem, too. Once she was close enough to see the truck, she wouldn’t be able to pull over without the men noticing. Hell, just driving by would be taking a chance, but that was one thing she couldn’t avoid. She needed to know what was going on.

She sped up so that she was tucked in close to the car in front of her. Hopefully that would provide the shield she needed.

It wasn’t until she was half a mile away that the El Camino finally came into view, its blue exterior standing out in sharp contrast to the browns and tans and greens of the plain.

She hunched down in an effort to change her profile but it was unnecessary. Harper and Martin were sitting in the cab of the truck, talking.

And they were alone.

Damn. She’d been hoping the girl was with them. She could have then simply neutralized the situation, and walked away with the woman. Even if it had been Diana and not Sara, it would have been worth the risk.

What the hell are they doing?

She kept going for two miles, then turned down a dirt road and stopped. She grabbed her phone and called Clausen.

“Update?” she asked.

“We’re on our way.”

Good. “How far are you from Williams?”

“About an hour and a half away.”

“Cut it to an hour, but call me before you get there and I’ll tell you exactly where to go.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Were you able to learn anything new?”

“He’s definitely the guy’s father.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Get anything else out of him?”

“No,” Clausen said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “He’s not being very cooperative. I could try something…more aggressive.”

Erica considered the idea. “No. Not yet.” She paused before adding, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t make the threat.”

She hung up, switched to the monitoring screen, and waited for the dot to move again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Harp had never had a gun pointed at him in his life, at least not until he reached the bottom of the staircase at the Desert Inn Motel.

“You open your mouth even to breathe and I pull the trigger. Understand?”

The man standing in front of Harp was the same one he’d talked to in the hospital cafeteria just a little while earlier. Harp nodded.

“Good. We’re going to walk to my car and go for a ride. You first.”

Harp remained riveted to the bottom step. “I’m not getting in your-”

“I said, don’t open your mouth. That’s your only warning. Let’s go.”

Harp knew he had no choice. Even if he’d been younger, he’d have been no match for the man. Unlike his son, Harp had never had any military training, and the only real fight he’d ever been in was in fifth grade. That had ended quickly with him on the ground and Donald Yeager standing over him, laughing.

The car turned out to be a dark blue sedan. A second man was sitting behind the wheel, his face blank as Harp climbed reluctantly into the backseat. The gunman followed and shut the door.

“Let me see that,” the man said.

He reached out and grabbed the copy of Lost Horizon from Harp’s hands.