Cisco’s immediate thought was that whatever he was going to be shown, Carter had known about it for a while. It was just a gut feeling, but usually Cisco’s instincts were right. Which posed the question, why hadn’t the kid offered up the information earlier in the day?

Grimly, Cisco bit his tongue and continued to follow. If this was Carter’s way of making himself feel important, Cisco would know fairly soon.

Another few minutes passed, and in the fading light, Cisco could see a small clearing up ahead. As they approached, he noted a dilapidated cabin that sat in the center of the area, amidst tall, unkempt grasses, weeds, and saplings.

“Wow,” Cisco chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “It looks like it could be haunted.”

Carter shot him a withering look as they both stopped several feet away from the small building. “No such thing,” the boy grunted, pragmatically. “Anyway, I think what you’re looking for is in there.” He gestured that Cisco should go ahead of him.

Cisco gave an internal sigh. The last of the sun had almost set, and if he didn’t get a move on, even with the light from his cell-phone, they’d eventually be stumbling back to camp.

He took a deep breath and approached the shack. It was nothing more than a mess of aged boards graced with one smashed-out window, a door hanging from a single upper hinge, and a front porch held up by—if he wasn’t mistaken—encroaching vines. Not the sturdiest of structures, and not the kind of place that instilled confidence that one wouldn’t put a foot right through some of those rotted floor-planks.

Still, if Carter had been inside, it had to be capable of holding some weight. Of course, the kid weighed, easily, a hundred pounds less than Cisco, so he’d have to step carefully.

“Where do I look once I get inside?” he asked, lighting up the flashlight on his phone.

“Back corner,” Carter grunted from behind.

Gingerly making his way from the granite step, up onto the narrow porch, Cisco felt somewhat better when the boards didn’t give way, but when he reached for the edge of the door to pull it open—the knob was long since gone—the entire thing came loose from its one pivot point and fell. Cisco had to dodge left to avoid being beaned.

“Nice construction,” he hissed as the dust of the ages settled around them.

“Yeah. I’ve had to tack it up a couple times,” Carter grumbled.

Oh really? The teen didn’t appear like he’d know a hinge from an eyebolt, or a hammer from a drill, but looks could be deceiving, so…

Cisco walked cautiously into the shack, sending his light around in a full arc. There wasn’t much inside. A broken chair, a stove-pipe that had long since fallen to the floor, and a lot of old, mouse-chewed papers strewn underfoot. The place gave Cisco’s skin the crawls, and that wasn’t just his OCD speaking. The single room was actually disgusting, and he had the urge to pull his shirt up over his nose to avoid possible hantavirus infection.

“Over there,” Carter stood close behind him and pointed so Cisco could see where he meant.

Cisco shined his light in the direction indicated, and…

“Holy hell,” he hissed.

The kid had been right.

There was one, shiny new bottle propped up in the corner, and Cisco didn’t even need to move close to see the label.

Peanut Oil.

No longer concerned with germs and bugs, Cisco carefully walked forward and dropped to his haunches in front of the damning find. It was a smoking gun, alright, and there was approximately one-half inch of liquid missing.

“You’re right, Carter. This has to be⁠—”

Something hard smashed down on the back of Cisco’s head. Pain exploded in his cranium, and he pitched forward. His phone flew from his fingertips. Before he could clear his suddenly blurred eyesight, another blow struck him on the temple, and the world immediately slipped away…

Hilly had long since given up her sexy pose on the bed. She gotten up and put on more practical clothes than the sexy robe she’d had draped over naked body.

What was taking Cisco so long? He’d been gone for over an hour and a half, and given the scope of where he’d said he’d be looking, the savvy cop should have been back long before now.

Hilly didn’t want to be one of “those women” who checked in on a man every time he wasn’t around, but her fingers itched to call his number, and see if he was okay.

Another fifteen minutes passed before she said “fuck it”, and stomped outside in the dark, an equally agitated Nel by her side.

Yeah. Her best four-legged companion could always pick up on a mood. Together, they checked the big barn first, then each outbuilding in turn. There wasn’t a sign of Cisco, and the fear gnawing at her gut increased. She then strode to the parking lot, and his bike was still there. Grabbing her phone from her pocket where it had been practically burning a hole, she finally hit his number and waited.

It rang, and rang, then went to his voice mailbox.

What the hell?

Her fingers tightened on her phone. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it, sure as shit.

Before she realized what she was doing, she’d dialed Mason.

“Hey, Hilly. What’s up?” His cheerful voice told her that he and his wife, Everlee, were having a relaxing evening.

“I’m not sure,” she responded worriedly. “I… Something might have happened to Cisco.”

“Tell me.” She could almost see Mason’s posture snapping upright.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “He left my cabin almost two hours ago to snoop around camp and see if he could find anything suspicious that might have led to Bailey’s allergic reaction. He said he was going to check the outbuildings and the surrounding area, but I just went through all of them, and he’s not there.” She continued to walk around camp, peering off into the trees. Her voice rose with the panic that gripped her chest. “I can’t see him anywhere, and he’s not answering his phone.”

All of a sudden, Nel’s head came up, she sniffed the air, and took off into the woods.

“Nel!” Hilly called. “Get back here.”

The pup didn’t respond. Indeed, she was clearly fixated on some kind of nose-mission.

“Now Nel has taken off,” Hilly told Mason shakily, before getting back to business. “I think Cisco’s in trouble.”

“I’m on my way, Hilly. And I’m bringing SWAT.”

Hilly chewed on her lip. “What if I’m wrong, Mase? What if he’s just taking a long walk and you all come out here for nothing?”

“Then we’ll consider it an exercise; which is something we do all the time. I’d rather play it safe, than sorry.”

Hilly nodded, even though he couldn’t see her.

He continued. “Keep all your campers inside their cabins, and promise me you won’t go off looking for Cisco on your own.”

It was a difficult vow to make. Every one of her instincts told her to run off, like Nel; scour the surrounding acreage, but she understood where Mason was coming from.

She didn’t exactly promise…

“When you get here, I’m going with you.”