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hard time distancing myself from this one. I wanted to come to Crystal Springs to help in the search for Ashley, but maybe I shouldn’t have.” The constriction in her chest rose into her throat. “His pain—it must be unbearable.” She twisted toward Colin. “If I’m having this much trouble keeping my personal feelings under control, how in the world is J.T. going to manage to keep his professional perspective?”
    â€œOne moment at a time. That’s all he can do. He knows God is with him and will take the burden from his shoulders. They will face it as one.” Colin took her hands. “The Lord has already eased J.T.’s load. He brought you here to help. You two worked well together last year.”
    Madison glanced over at J.T. and saw him put an arm around his son’s shoulder. She prayed the reverend was right. A little girl’s life hung in the balance.

THREE
    Day one, 6:00 a.m.: Ashley missing eleven and a half hours
    W isps of fog fingered their way through the trees, reaching toward the lake like claws digging at the earth. J.T. stood at his back gate, his skin clammy from the cool, damp spring air. The searchers had received their instructions and Ashley’s denim jacket for the dogs to get her scent. The teams had begun to move forward from his property line through the woods because the trail from the swing set led to the back gate. That only confirmed in J.T.’s mind he was on the right track.
    A handler from Central City, a young police officer J.T. had worked with before, held Ashley’s jacket up to his German shepherd. After a few sniffs, his dog took off to the right into the forest.
    J.T. hurried after the dog and his handler. The German shepherd stopped at the base of an elm and smelled its trunk. In the distance J.T. heard another dog bark.
    Although he knew this wasn’t a viable lead, J.T.checked the area around the tree just to be sure. “Dead end. Ashley often comes out here and climbs this tree. She’s been wanting me to build her a fort in—” The rest of the words couldn’t get past the knot lodged in J.T.’s throat. He might never get the opportunity to build that fort he’d kept putting off. If only he had another chance…
    Day one, 6:30 a.m.: Ashley missing twelve hours
    Madison rang the Goldsmiths’ doorbell, scanned J.T.’s neighborhood. A white Escort sat in the neighbors’ driveway. People headed toward the side street where the volunteers were signing in. The barricade in front of J.T.’s house still stood, proclaiming a crime had been committed. Several reporters milled about, looking for people to interview. Thankfully she’d been able to evade them.
    Behind her she heard the door open and turned toward an older man. She showed him her FBI badge. “I would like to talk to Mrs. Goldsmith.”
    â€œI was just about to call the sheriff.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œRuth remembered some more about that car she saw pulling out of the side street yesterday evening.” He stood to the side to allow her into his house.
    A muscular woman, medium height, came into the foyer from what looked like the living room. She stuck out her hand.
    Madison shook it, noticing the scent of vanilla permeating the house. “What did you remember about the car?”
    â€œI’ve been baking sugar cookies. I do that when I need to think.” Ruth turned back into the room. “Come in and have some coffee.”
    Madison glanced at her watch. Minutes ticked by faster than she wanted. The longer Ashley was missing, the harder it would be to find her—alive. That thought prompted her to say, “I can’t, but thanks for the offer. I have a lot of people to interview this morning.” She took several steps into the room. “What do you remember, Mrs. Goldsmith?”
    â€œRuth. The color was definitely a metallic blue, not gray as I thought last