Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy 3)

“What do you want to do?”

The blunt question was why he loved his family. They would take their say-so, despite being told facts that would have everyone else shoving them in their face.

“You and Cash keep going to where Virgil found the clothes and make sure Jessie isn’t there.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to call Greer. There is nobody in the state of Kentucky who knows this area better than he does.”

“Make sure you keep in touch.”

“Will do.”

Hanging up, he called Greer.

“It’s Dustin.”

“No shit. Tate call you?”

“I called him, and he told me. It’s not Jessie. Has she been identified for sure?”

“Not yet. Knox and I are about ten minutes away, but from the description, it’s the same hair color and size as Jessie.”

Dustin’s hold on phone nearly slipped. Holding it tighter, he had to ask the question he didn’t want to know. “They can’t tell if it’s her from her face?”

“No, it’s too fucked.”

“Don’t let Knox call the search off for Jessie. The searchers will lose time trying to regroup. Greer, I know Jessie isn’t on Pine Mountain. Don’t ask me how, I just know it,” Dustin said to prevent him from asking the same question Tate had. “Where would you get rid of someone you didn’t want found?”

“Give me a minute to think.”

Dustin wanted to yell at him, but he waited, letting Greer think it through. His brother was the only one with a cunning mind that could figure out how to help find Jessie.

“We know Jessie was taken from the laundry room. The bastard could be trying to put us off track by using the clothes to have us looking there. If you’re damn sure she’s not on Pine Mountain, and none of the other searchers have found Jessie, that leaves a lot of other mountains and fields to dump her.”

“Where would you go?”

“If I knew who Jessie was, I would hide her where she would never be found. Everyone in town knows that the Hayeses are just as mean as us.”

“So, where should I look?”

“That’s easy. Black Mountain.”

8

Dustin scanned the side of the two-lane road as he drove slowly up Black Mountain, looking for any spot where the gravel on the roadside had been disturbed. He had gotten out of the truck several times to meticulously look over the guardrail, searching the mountain below before getting back in and driving on.

The whimpers in his mind returned when he was halfway to the peak, nearly spurring him to search faster. However, he’d been taught to hunt when he was barely out of diapers. Benefiting from the skills he learned from his pa and brothers, he knew to take his time, not wanting to miss something that would lead to finding Jessie.

Coming around a hairpin curve, Dustin spotted a wider part of the shoulder where a vehicle could pull over to view the majestic mountains.

Before pulling off the road, he saw where tires had disturbed the gravel. Turning the steering wheel, he steered the truck, expertly missing the grooves of the previous tire tracks.

His heart in his throat, he got out and glanced down to see the vehicle had pulled onto the shoulder in the same direction he had come from, but the wheel had been cut to leave in the opposite direction—back down the mountain.

Striding toward the guardrail, Dustin started praying, wanting to find her, but not wanting to find her lifeless. Leaning over as far as he could, becoming frustrated at the sight of the cliff, he swept his eyes over as far as he could see from right to left.

His breath hitched when he saw a large patch of soil that had been disturbed and a darker color surrounding the dirt. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to look down farther, but the tree branches kept him from seeing the bottom.

If Jessie had been thrown from the edge of the cliff, there was no way she could have survived. But if she had landed on the side, Jessie was experienced enough to have made it.

Opening the passenger door, he reached inside for his cell phone.

“Yeah?”

“Greer, I think I found where she went down.” Dustin had to keep repeating himself since the reception went in and out. He couldn’t hear Greer’s reply.

“Dammit.” Lowering his phone, he looked at the time. He only had three hours until it started getting dark. He had to get moving if he had any hope of finding Jessie before nightfall.

The four-wheeler would be useless to him—the cliff too sheer. Instead, opening the tailgate, Dustin collected what he needed and shoved everything into the backpack that Greer kept in the metal box under the cab.

Sparing precious minutes, he tried to make another call, this time to Tate. The call failed, and so did the mass text he sent to his family.

“Fuck it.” Finding an envelope and ink pen in the glovebox, Dustin wrote a note, saying he thought Jessie was down the cliff and he was going to search for her. Placing it on the windshield, he then tied a rope to the guardrail.