She’d taken him to all her old hangouts, shown the photo to every friend she had there. Nobody remembered seeing Paco or the kids. Grace yawned, padding down the stairs as the sun rose outside. The horses were less anxious their second night than the first, but some noise in the barn had still woken her up at dawn, and she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Might as well get started on her day. Ryder had said he’d be coming by first thing in the morning. Hopefully not too early. A nice, peaceful hour or so—just her and her coffee mug—would be great. She headed straight for the coffeemaker. She was on her second cup when a pickup pulled into her driveway. She looked out the window, then went to the door to unlock it, still thinking of Ryder as she turned the dead bolt. “Hello, Dylan.” She glanced at his new pickup in the driveway, a Chevy, the emblem in place. She couldn’t believe she checked.
What do You think about The Spy Wore Spurs (2012)?
