Chapter 16

Shifting Morgan in his grasp, Jack shoved the key in the lock, then thrust open the door. Inside the little Craftsman cottage, clean lines and pine floors reminded him of his boyhood, of fishing with his grand-pere Brice. This place never failed to inspire great memories, even if the old family legends his grandfather told here made him laugh.

“Ah, so you made it.”

Jack started—until he recognized the voice. “Holy shit, old man. You trying to scare me to death so you can have your fishing hole back?”

Brice waved him away. “You wish. I wouldn’t have this place back for nothin’. Rat trap.”

Jack knew better, but Brice was too old to live out here, so far away from a hospital.

“The place is stocked with food. The security cameras, they’s all on and the generator is running. Use it sparingly.”

“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

“This the girl you called about, the one runnin’ for her life?” Brice gestured to Morgan, whom Jack still held.

“Yeah