“I think it’s the danger factor. Didn’t you like adrenaline when you were a teenager?”
“Still do.” He offered her a brief smile, raising his eyebrows.
The moment of humor that passed between them lightened the tension she felt. She zigzagged through the junkyard, past rows of appliances and piles of tires. There were several sheds on the property that Sierra knew contained old books, magazines and newspapers. Peter Leman had been the ultimate hoarder.
Joseph tilted his head to look up at a mountain of twisted and intertwined pieces of metal. He shook his head. “It’s like an amusement park for junk collectors.”
“There is a big pipe at the far end of the fence where kids hang out.” She glanced around, not seeing any signs of anyone else in the junkyard.
As they made their way through the labyrinth of junk, wind blew around them, causing the metal to creak. Tarps that covered piles of junk flapped in the wind.
She pointed. “The pipe is just on the other side of that motor home.”
He crouched by the motor home. She slipped in behind him, unsure what was going on here. A hundred frantic thoughts zinged through Sierra’s head. Was Trevor safe? Was he even here?
Had the drug dealers set him up to make the call, or had his emergency been an emotional one? Had he decided to ally himself with the dealers after all?
Again, Joseph touched his chest where the gun was. “Let’s take this slow.”
His action sent a fresh dose of terror through her. He was anticipating violence.
Joseph pulled his gun and rushed toward the next object that would provide them with cover, in case someone was lying in wait for them in the pipe. He crouched behind a pile of car doors, then lifted his head above them. He could not see the interior of the pipe, but it was easily big enough for a grown person to stand inside.
Though arguing with Sierra about coming out here would have been an act of futility, he still didn’t like the idea of putting her or any civilian in danger.
She’d handled herself fine while they had been running from the drug dealer by the lake. He wondered what made her so tenacious in her need to help this messed-up kid who might have betrayed her.
Sierra leaned close to Joseph’s ear and whispered, “Should I call out for him?”
Joseph shook his head. What if someone more dangerous than Trevor was close by? “You stay here. Let me go.”
She nodded.
With his gun lifted, he ran toward the pipe. The interior came into view. He lowered his gun. There was no one inside, only evidence of what went on there—empty beer bottles and even a syringe. A magazine lay open, its pages flapping in the breeze.
The sight of the debris, of lives being destroyed, made his heart heavy. His baby brother, Ezra, had been so young when he’d overdosed. How did someone with so much to live for get to such a hopeless, dark place?
Sierra came up behind him. She must have sensed his shift in mood. “You all right?”
He pointed inside the pipe, backing away from the memories of Ezra’s transformation from a happy, bright kid to a prisoner of his own addiction. “This kind of stuff makes me angry.” Very few people knew why he had become a DEA agent. The pain still cut deep.
“Me, too,” she said. Her expression softened, and her voice filled with compassion. “I just decide every day, in whatever small way I can, I’ll work to pull a kid from the fire before he or she is consumed.”
He studied her for a long moment, feeling drawn to her. “Exactly.” They were on the same side. Both of them fighting for the same thing, just in different ways.
They searched the rest of the junkyard, finding no one or any evidence that someone had been here recently. When he tried the number Trevor had called from, the phone didn’t even ring on the other end.
“Probably a throwaway phone,” he said.
Frustrated, he slipped outside the junkyard and returned to his car. Sierra followed him. She sat in the passenger seat while he settled in behind the steering wheel and buckled his seat belt.
“Something is going on with Trevor. He sounded scared on that phone call. We have to find him.” She laced her fingers together. Her forehead furrowed.
His heart went out to her. “We need some kind of lead to find him. Kids talk when they come into the shop. They think I’m not listening. And some of them even trust me enough to let me know what they know.”
She turned to face him. “Yes, the skateboard shop is ideal for finding out what’s going on with teenagers. Even the ones who are using drugs.” She narrowed her eyes at him, expecting a response.
This was the moment of truth. “I guess you figured it out.”
“You didn’t act like a shop owner back there in the junkyard. You acted like a cop.”
He tensed. “It’s important that no one else know.”
“I’m good at keeping secrets.” A soft smile graced her lips.
“That man you saw in the forest is very high up in the drug trade.” He placed his hands on the steering wheel. “If we can take him down, it would go a long way to destroying the drug network in this area.”
“So that’s why he sent his henchman after me.” Her voice filled with anxiety.
He turned the key in the ignition and pressed the gas. He wished there was something he could say to lift the burden of worry from her. Sometimes silence was the kinder choice over saying something trite or untrue.
The car rolled up a long hill. “Kind of like a roller-coaster ride,” he said, hoping to distract her from her worry. He aimed the car downhill and coasted, lifting his foot off the gas.
“Yeah, I guess. Never thought of it that way.” She sounded a million miles away as she stared through the windshield.
The car picked up speed. Joseph pressed the brakes, but the car rolled even faster.
So that’s why they’d been lured out there.
The brake line had been cut.
Sierra’s pulse raced as she watched Joseph’s expression change. His features hardened with concern as he pumped the brakes.
He applied the emergency brake, but that didn’t seem to make a difference.
She didn’t need to ask him what was wrong. They were traveling at a dangerous speed on a dirt road. This was a long downhill. Before the road leveled off, they ran the risk of the car flipping.
Sierra gripped the armrest.
Joseph stared straight ahead and clutched the steering wheel, keeping the car to the center of the road. There was a ditch on one side. The gravel at the edges of the road could function like marbles, causing the car to roll over.
Her heart raced, and every muscle in her body turned to stone as they hurtled downhill. The road leveled off a little, but the car kept rolling.
Joseph turned the wheel. The car caught air as they sailed over the ditch. She saw now what his plan was. The field beside the road contained round hay bales. Joseph steered toward one but turned abruptly.
“Still going too fast,” he said, steering around another hay bale. The car bumped over the uneven terrain as the scenery through the window went by in a blur.
“This is it,” he said through gritted teeth.
She looked away as the hay