Silent Night by Colleen Coble

island where his cell worked. The call was from his cousin Tom, who also happened to be the sheriff on this rock. “Hey, Tom.”
    “Sorry to bother you, buddy, but I’ve got Zach here in jail.”
    Alec’s stomach plummeted. “What’s he done?”
    “He and some of his friends took it into their heads to spray-paint graffiti on the school. I caught him with the paint. I think you should leave him here overnight. Might teach him a lesson.”
    The thought of his nephew in jail pained Alec, but he knew his cousin was right. “Whatever you think is best.”
    “While I’ve got you on the phone, I need your help. A woman named Nicole Ingram was abducted out at Tidewater Pier.”
    “Abducted?”
    “The Virginia Beach police called me. Her business partner saw it all on the cam.”
    Alec winced. “That had to have been rough.”
    “She was hysterical, according to the officer who called me. She’s on her way here. Can I get your team to keep your eyes open on this one? The kidnappers took her in a boat.”
    “Sure thing. You got a description of the woman?”
    Tom gave it to him. “Oops, got another call. Don’t come until lunch tomorrow to spring your nephew.”
    Alec ended the call and put his phone away. The others were looking at him with curiosity. “Zach’s in jail.”
    “So we gathered,” Curtis said. “What’d he do?”
    “Spray-painted graffiti on the school.”
    “I did that once,” Josh said. “It’s a rite of passage to adulthood.”
    “I never did,” Alec said.
    “Yeah, but you walk on water.”
    Alec grinned at the familiar joke. Just because he didn’t drink or smoke, most of the other men thought he was some kind of saint. The truth was far different.
    The story continues in Tidewater Inn by Colleen Coble.

One
    I t was days like this, when the sun bounced off Lake Superior with an eye-squinting brilliance, that Bree Nicholls forgot all her qualms about living where the Snow King ruled nine months of the year. There was no other place on earth like the U.P.—Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. With Keweenaw Peninsula to the north and Ottawa National Forest to the south, there could be no more beautiful spot in the world. The cold, crystal-clear waters of the northernmost Great Lakes stretched to the horizon as far as she could see.
    But she’d never find those kids by focusing on the seascape. Pressing her foot to the accelerator, she left the lake behind as she urged her old Jeep Cherokee forward along the rutted dirt track. Bree’s best friend, Naomi Heinonen, steadied herself against the door’s armrest and looked over her shoulder at the two dogs still safely confined in their kennels. The Kitchigami Wilderness Preserve lay to the east, past Miser, a drive of only fifteen miles or so, but on this washboard road, it took longer than Bree liked.
    “Don’t kill us getting there!” Naomi shouted above the road noise.
    Bree didn’t reply. These lost children weren’t some vacationers without ties; they were residents of Rock Harbor, two of their own. And night would be here soon. If Naomi were driving, her foot would be heavy on the accelerator too. The preserve was a formidable tract that could swallow up two kids without a trace.
    The wind churned autumn’s red and gold leaves in eddies and blew them across the road like brightly colored tumbleweeds. Equally colorful trees crowded the hills like giant banks of mums. The U.P. in autumn was Bree’s favorite time, except when ever-shorter days put strangleholds on their search efforts.
    M-18 headed on east, but Bree made a sharp turn onto Pakkala Road, which would take them into a heavily forested area. In the spring, motor homes and SUVs pulling campers plied the road on their way to experience some of the last wilderness left in the Midwest. Today the road was practically empty.
    “Fill me in on what we know,” Bree said.
    “Donovan O’Reilly reported Emily and Timmy missing three hours ago. They were on some outdoor nature thing