“He took my car keys out of my purse,” Emily whispered, her voice fading to almost nothing by the end.

“He said if I tried walking to the main road…”

“He doesn’t have tactical control of this situation,” Richard said.

He rubbed the faded white scar across his right thumb, working out how long it would take Ethan to get a county patrol car moving.

“No one touches you,” Richard said.

“No one comes near this truck.”

She drew her knees up toward her chest and rested her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window.

“He was hunting for something, Dad,” she whispered.