I had so much fun reading this. I was caught up in all the twists and turns and was on the edge of my seat as everything unfolded. I loved Grant and Ava so much! Be sure to check out my full review below and read an excerpt from Vanishing Hour.
When a cold case in Texas leads to a sinister string of
disappearances, a newcomer to the small town helps the deputy sheriff piece
together the clues in this new romantic thriller from New York Times bestselling
author Laura Griffin.
Corporate
lawyer Ava Burch has had enough of the big city and the daily grind. She grew
up with her father, who raised search-and-rescue dogs, in rural Texas and has
moved to the small town of Cuervo to spend time in the dry, rugged wilderness
near Big Bend National Park. When she and her dog, Huck, discover an abandoned
campsite on a volunteer search-and-rescue mission, she’s perplexed, but she
carefully photographs it all the same.
All Deputy Sheriff Grant Wycoff can see when he looks at Ava is a city
slicker—with her designer jeans and expensive car—who has no business on a
serious team made up of seasoned outdoorsmen and retired cops. But when she
tells him of her discovery on the trail, he sees there’s more to her than meets
the eye.
Ava’s discovery reminds Grant of the unsolved case of a young woman who went
missing two years ago. As they look into the campsite further, another woman
disappears under odd circumstances. With time running out, Ava and Grant must
work against the brutal heat from both the Texas sun and their own electric
chemistry to solve the case.
Missing children are an
emergency. Always. Their little bodies are less able to regulate temperature,
so they're especially vulnerable to exposure. And in a place as vast and rugged
as Silver Canyon State Park, additional hazards abounded: rattlesnakes,
coyotes, hundred-foot cliffs. Even the anemic little creek that Ava had been
following was terrifying. A child Noah's size could drown in a bathtub.
Ava glanced up at the relentless sun that sucked
moisture out of everything beneath it. She looked ahead at Huck, who trotted
back and forth in front of her in his zigzag pattern. He was working the wind,
as he'd been trained, tirelessly sniffing the air with his powerful nose, which
could pick up anything with human scent on it, from a candy wrapper to a
dropped article of clothing.
So far, nothing.
Ava checked her watch. Two long hours since
she'd left the trailhead. Sweat stung her eyes, and she wiped her forehead with
the back of her arm. She paused beside a boulder and dropped her pack on the
dusty ground to retrieve one of her water bottles. Huck needed some, too, but
right now he was intent on his work.
She took a lukewarm sip and scanned the scrub
brush lining the canyon wall. Young children had a tendency to wander aimlessly
until they found a place to curl up for a nap. Some would even hide from search
teams, afraid of getting in trouble for being lost. So Ava had been incessantly
scanning pockets of brush.
Huck halted in front of her, his nose lifted in
the air. Ava froze and watched. But then his head dropped down and he resumed
his zigzags. Ava tucked the water bottle away and pushed off the boulder to
continue her trek.
She watched Huck, amazed by his energy. Even in this
heat, he loved working, and when he had his vest on, he didn't have an off
switch. As he bounded around in front of her, she thought of the other teams,
especially the canine one. She was surprised they hadn't found something close
to camp.
Of course, the parents had been there, which
might have been a problem. Frantic parents threw off a lot of scent, which
could have overpowered Noah's smell and possibly confused the dog. Also, the
temperature rising in the canyon could have wafted the scent up, well above the
dog's nose. Yet another challenge here was that young children didn't throw off
as much scent as adults. And still bodies-ones that were either asleep or
unconscious-threw off less scent, too.
So there were all kinds of factors in play,
especially in a park this size.
Ava checked her watch again and sped up her
pace, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had been settling in her
stomach as the hours ticked by. Scanning the canyon wall, her gaze caught on
something beige and triangular.
A tent? No.
A tarp. She climbed onto a boulder for a closer
look. About halfway up the slope of the canyon was a sand-colored canvas tarp
that had been stretched taut to create a patch of shade. It looked like a
primitive fort-just the sort of thing that would attract a kid's attention, and
her pulse quickened as she climbed closer. Nearing the tarp, she spied a small
yellow tent tucked in the shade beneath it.
She glanced around for Huck, but he was sniffing
along at the base of a rockslide.
Grabbing hold of a juniper tree, Ava levered
herself onto the ledge. She ducked under the tarp and paused a moment for her
eyes to adjust. The little tent was unzipped. Hope ballooned in her chest as
she pulled back the flap and poked her head inside.
Her hope disappeared as she scanned the
interior. No sleeping child curled up in the dimness. The air was utterly
still, and everything was coated with a thin layer of dust, as though no one
had been there in weeks, maybe months. A pile of gear in the corner included a cookstove,
a hiking boot, and a blue bedroll with a carabiner clipped to it. Attached to
the carabiner was a black key fob.
A chill snaked down her spine. Who would leave
their car key out here? The fob seemed odd. Ditto for the hiking boot. Where
was the other one? And where was its owner?
On impulse, Ava took out her phone and snapped a
couple of pictures. As part of her SAR training, she'd learned to document
crime scenes. She couldn't pinpoint why, exactly, but that was what this felt
like. She ducked out and snapped a shot of the exterior. A faint bark pulled
her attention back to the mission. She couldn't afford to get sidetracked, even
though this place felt creepy. She put her phone away as she skimmed the
surrounding area for the missing boot, or any sign of the boot's owner. She
glanced up the canyon, looking for evidence of a fire pit or any other camping
equipment.
A soft whimper had her turning around.
Huck sat beside a rock pile, his ears pricked
forward and his gaze fixed on hers. Ava's heart skittered. This was his sit
alert letting her know he'd found something.
"Show me," she commanded, and he
sprang into action, bounding across the creek bed. She climbed down the rocks
and jogged after him, frantically searching the clumps of trees. Huck darted
around a giant prickly pear cactus and behind a line of mesquite trees. Amid
the fluttering green leaves, she caught a flash of red.
"Please, please, please," she
murmured.
Huck disappeared beneath the brush and barked.
Ava spied a small white sneaker and a pudgy leg.
Huck danced in a circle, drunk on success and
eager for his reward.
"Good boy, Huck! Good boy! Good boy!"
She filled her voice with praise, even though her heart had lodged in her
throat. The little body wasn't moving. Oh God.
