Nightwatch by Valerie Hansen

“Listen, Sheriff, I’m kind of turned around out here and I know I’d never be able to find this exact spot again if I move.”
    â€œFine. Stay there so we’ll have a starting point for the main search. We’ll come to you.”
    â€œI have another problem.” Mitch swallowed hard. “I’ve lost track of Jill. I thought she was right behind me but there’s no sign of her. It’s starting to get pretty dark out here and the weather looks like it’s going to take a turn for the worse.”
    â€œCopy. I’ll head straight for you. Boyd can take a few of the neighbors and fan out. We’ve gathered a lot of volunteers since you left.”
    â€œGood. Bring some drinking water, too, will you? Tim’s probably dehydrated.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Mitch could hear the sheriff giving orders in the background right before he reported, “We have the GPS coordinates on that radio I gave you. When was the last time you saw Miz Jill?”
    â€œIt couldn’t have been more than a few minutes ago. I kept an eye on her ’til she told me to run ahead so I wouldn’t lose sight of the dogs.” He gritted his teeth as he remembered making that difficult decision. “I never should have listened to her.”
    Harlan chuckled wryly. “Take my advice, son. Don’t ever let her hear you say that. Just sit tight. We’re on our way.”
    â€œCopy.”
    Mitch dropped to his knees and hugged the still-trembling boy again. Timmy was probably inshock, or close to it, so his well-being had to take precedence over everyone else’s for the present.
    What Mitch really wanted to do was scoop up Tim and backtrack to look for Jill. He supposed he could have, given that the sheriff now had the coordinates for his present position, but since the kidnappers could be close by he figured it would be smarter to stay put. The small clearing they were in wasn’t exactly defensible but it did give him a good view in all directions. Jill’s dogs were standing guard. Therefore, there was far less chance of exposing Tim to added danger if they waited right where they were.
    â€œBesides,” Mitch muttered, “who knows if the GPS readings are accurate enough?” No machine was foolproof. He’d known more than one driver who had gotten lost following the disembodied voice from a personal navigational unit.
    His sense of duty was under intense attack, his loyalties torn. Three separate people were depending upon him and he could only help one at a time. Since he had Tim in hand and the dogs were remaining alert, it made sense to do as the sheriff had instructed and sit tight.
    The trouble was, Mitch’s heart kept insisting that he find Jill. He had led her into the woods and she was his responsibility, just as she had been since his fire department rescue squad had responded to the call for medical aid at the Kirkpatrick farm and he’d found her husband beyond any earthly help.
    The sense of obligation that had begun that day as a totally innocent connection had blossomed into something more. At least it had for him. He was beginning to see that far more clearly of late and it bothered him. A lot. Surely Jill must blame him, at least subconsciously,for the death of her husband. He certainly tended to do so whenever he thought back to that fateful day. Like he was doing right now.
    â€œIt’s my husband. He’s out there. That way,” Jill had screamed, gesturing wildly as the rescue truck had slid to a stop behind her farmhouse. “Under those big trees. Eric was trying to cut one down for firewood and…”
    Mitch had grabbed his gear and led the way at a run. Speed hadn’t helped. Although he’d administered first aid it had been clear from the outset that no one could have saved the injured man’s life. But that didn’t change the fact that Eric Kirkpatrick had died while waiting for an ambulance. Jill