Marlowe
Bear's tracking team returned near midnight with news that only deepened the uncertainty instead of resolving it.
"Lost him past the county line," the lead tracker reported, exhausted and frustrated in equal measure. "Rode hard, changed direction twice in ways that felt deliberate, like he knew we might be following. We picked up the trail again near a motel outside Ridgewood, but by the time we got eyes on the building, he was already gone."
"Gone where," King asked.
"Don't know. But there was a car in the lot registered to a name that doesn't match anyone connected to this club, parked in a way that suggested he'd met somebody there before we arrived."
I felt my stomach twist with fresh dread, the small, hopeful part of me that had wanted to believe in some innocent explanat
