Jake
Emma ate four pancakes while we planned how to catch her escaped husband.
I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned.
Probably both.
She sat beside me at the church table wearing my flannel under an oversized leather jacket, one hand wrapped around tea while the other cut another piece from the stack Raven had dumped in front of her.
Around us, twelve Steele Riders stared at the map Sophia had thrown onto the wall monitor.
Nobody mentioned the pancakes.
Smart men.
The blinking red dot had left the mountain road seventeen minutes ago.
“He’s moving southeast,” Sophia said. “Prepaid phone is still active.”
“Speed?” Nash asked.
“Average fifty-eight.”
“Vehicle.”
“Has to be.”
I leaned forward, studying the route.
Derek had escaped federal custody less than an hour ago
