Page 48 - My FlipBook
P. 48
FOUR
Rebus started to shake at ninety, so Nate dropped to eighty-
five. Pickups followed with their headlights nearly touching
Rebus’s bumper before tearing past, their tires spitting gravel
at Nate’s windshield. Greta bit back her impatience again,
grinding her teeth together. Roger and Patty could be hours ADVANCE READING COPY
away by now. She slid the phone off the edge of Ash’s seat
and tried the locator app again. Still in Whitecourt. She took
some slow breaths.
Finally. Welcome to Whitecourt on an official sign. Greta
unbuckled her suffocating seat belt and tapped Ash on the
shoulder. He opened his eyes immediately. Sleep liar.
She waved the phone in front of him. “Ash, we’re here.
Let’s see where Dad is.”
Nate pulled off to the side of the road, and all three heads
converged on the screen. “It looks like they’re close,” Ash
said. He used two fingers to zoom in. “Yes, the second right.”
A lump hardened in Greta’s throat. It’s now. Nate drove
slowly—to the point of torture—to make sure they took the
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