She’d traveled less than a hundred feet when she heard the first impact of his body against the inside of the doors. He was on his feet. How long would it take him to break out? A few minutes? He wouldn’t be far behind her, and she wouldn’t be able to outrun him. She needed to find a place to hide.

Fear scrambled her heartbeat. Anxiety tightened her lungs, and she fought for air with each step. Cold, clammy sweat broke out between her shoulder blades. She couldn’t let him catch her.

The trail crossed another path. She had no time to think about which direction to go. Turning right, she kept going. There must be a vehicle somewhere nearby. She needed to keep looking. But between her injured foot and her asthma, she was hardly making progress.

How could she throw him off her trail? The trail divided again. She left a few prints in the wrong direction, then turned and backtracked to the intersection. Then she left the trail and walked parallel to it. But the snap of a twig underfoot drove her back to the path.

She couldn’t get a break.

The path ended suddenly. She tripped and went down on her knees. Pain shot up her legs. She sat back on her heels, winded and wheezing, her lungs aching. She’d emerged from the trees on a beach. A lake stretched as far as she could see. Moonlight glittered on its rippling blackness, shining like oil. A dock extended over the water, and a shed sat at the edge of the dock. Was there a boat inside? Moonlight turned the rocky beach silver. If she was careful and stayed on the rocks, she could cross the beach without leaving tracks.

But if she hid in the shed and he found her, she’d be trapped.

A loud crack echoed in the night. Olivia froze for a few seconds. She’d thought she was too far from the cellar to hear him burst out, but she’d been wrong. She mustn’t have gotten as far as she’d hoped. He was close.

And he was coming for her.

She climbed to her feet and headed across the rocks toward the shed. There were no other hiding places in sight, and she was moving too slowly to stay ahead of him. The shed was her only hope. She opened the door and stepped inside. Disappointment rushed through her, followed by sheer panic. Fishing rods lined the walls. Fishing nets were heaped in the corner. The rest of the space was empty.

Could she hide under the nets? Did she have any other options?

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lance adjusted the night vision goggles on his head over the black knit cap that hid his bright-blond hair. He flipped up the goggles until he needed them. Next to him, Sharp secured the Velcro on his body armor. Like Lance, he wore black cargos and a black zip-up, with a cap over his short salt-and-pepper hair.

“I don’t like waiting behind.” Morgan stood next to the Jeep, her black jacket layered over her own Kevlar vest. A dark-gray scarf hid the pale skin of her face.

“If we run into trouble, we’ll need someone to call for help.” Sharp checked the weapon on his hip.

“You can’t bail us out if you’re in jail with us.” Lance didn’t like separating either, but they had no idea what they would run into.

Morgan was wicked smart, and she had many incredible qualities. But athleticism wasn’t one of them. She had powered through physical challenges in the past with sheer determination. But Lance and Sharp ran regularly and would be able to move faster on their own.

“There are too many variables that could turn to complete shit tonight.” Sharp selected a stick about three feet long from the ground. He took a piece of bright-yellow paracord from his pocket and tied it to the end of the stick. “We need a person on the outside.”

“What’s that?” Morgan asked.

“A trip wire detector.” Sharp held the stick in front of him. The cord fell straight down. He swept it slowly side to side. “The cord is lightweight. It should show us a trip wire without triggering it. An infrared sensor was used on the pipe bomb, but out here in the woods, it might make more sense to go low-tech. Stephen uses fishing line in his YouTube videos.”

“I don’t like you going into the woods in the dark.” Morgan set her jaw. “What if you don’t see an infrared sensor?”

Sharp shook his head. “He uses this land as a camp for survivalists. He can’t risk blowing up his customers.”

Lance wasn’t so sure. Holgersen’s survival school was in bankruptcy. How long had it been since he’d had students here? He thought of the arsenal he and Sharp had found at the Olander farm. As a survivalist, Holgersen could also have plenty of firepower on hand. Sharp and Lance would be the trespassers. What would Holgersen do if he caught them snooping around his land? Would he come after them with weapons or call the sheriff’s department?

But in the end, the worst scenario was if Stephen Holgersen wasn’t the man who took Olivia. Then what?

A failing business did not make Stephen Holgersen a criminal. They had no evidence to support their hunch. But Olivia had been missing for three and a half days, and Sharp wasn’t going to wait to assess or gather any more information. He’d been twitchy since they learned about Stephen Holgersen’s massive debt and watched his YouTube videos on setting booby traps. Lance was lucky he’d talked him into changing his clothes and having a look at satellite images of the area and online pictures of the camp.

The Jeep was concealed behind a clump of trees just past the entrance marked PRIMITIVE SURVIVAL SCHOOL. From this position, Morgan would be able to see the driveway and the road in both directions.

He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “Be careful.”

She nodded. “You’re the ones walking into who knows what.”

“We’ll be all right.” He settled his hands on her arms and squeezed her biceps. “This will be an in-and-out operation. Our goal is to avoid confrontation.”

From the online pictures, it seemed as if most of the property had been left in its natural state. People paid to learn to live off the land.

Sharp tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Love you.” Lance released Morgan’s arms.

“Love you too.” She stepped back.

Lance and Sharp turned into the woods. Lance lowered his NVGs over his eyes and scanned his surroundings. The newer-generation night vision equipment illuminated the landscape in shades of black and white instead of the traditional eerie green. He took the stick and cord and held it in front of them. Sharp stayed at his right flank, watching for infrared sensors. Thick woods and the potential for booby traps kept their pace slow.

A hundred yards into the forest, they stepped onto a rough trail. A red light shone to his left. Lance grabbed Sharp’s arm to stop him and pointed at the light. Sharp took a tiny penlight from his pocket and shone it ahead.

He leaned close to Lance’s ear. “Trip wire connected to a sound grenade.”

An alarm was better than a bomb.

Lance skirted the device.

They moved back into the woods and traveled north in a line parallel to the trail. The property was on a peninsula that jutted into the lake. Water formed a natural barrier on three sides. Satellite images of the area had not penetrated the thick woods but had showed several structures built at the edge of the water. This likely marked the location of the main buildings. Stephen’s residence should also be near the lake. Most people with lakefront properties built their houses with a view of the water.