Page 27 of Hard Rain

Axel’s attention lifted to her immediately.

Tina glared across the table. “Small town. I worked fast food with Clay years ago. You should know, y’all went to school with him.”

“You hit him on the football field a few times too,” Scott reminded Axel.

“Not hard enough, apparently,” Axel muttered.

“It’s a small world,” Whip said. He’d lived here long enough to know small towns remembered everything.

Nobody argued.

“What’s the buddy’s name?” Axel asked.

“Frank Delaney,” Grady answered.

“Truck spotted south of Paisley Thursday morning,” Scott added. “Registered to Delaney.”

Whip studied the map quietly while radios crackled somewhere deeper in the station.

“We’ve got Silver Lake, Paisley, and back county roads,” Whip said.

“That means seasonal hunting cabins and too much fucking empty land,” Axel added.

“That’s where deputies lost him?” Whip asked Grady.

Grady nodded once. “County roads split three different directions south of town.”

“But the buddy’s ranch got searched Tuesday,” Whip said.

“Yeah.”

Whip leaned back slightly in his chair.

The timeline didn’t fit cleanly, like finding one set of boot prints crossing another from the opposite direction.

Unless Cutter doubled back west through county land after deputies started tightening roads near Summer Lake.

Axel looked over immediately, already tracking the same thought.

No surprise there.

“He’s circling familiar ground,” Axel said.

Whip nodded once. “He’s not running blind.”

Cutter was staying close to places he knew—hunting roads, ranch land, old trails cutting through miles of empty country deputies couldn’t lock down fast enough.

Places locals would hesitate to tear apart unless they absolutely had to.

It was a smart move and one he would’ve made himself if he were in the same situation.

Not that he’d ever gone down that road.

Well… except for the candy bar he’d swiped from Mr. Metzler’s desk in third grade.

Crash had busted his hide.

Lesson learned.