Nate was already running before Surly Dave’s words fully penetrated his consciousness. The crowbar he’d been using to pry away the panelling of a section of wall on the third floor still gripped in his hand. Thank the Sands and last night’s storm he’d been working inside this morning. He hit the stairs at Mach two, not caring he’d long left Dave behind. He needed…. had, to get to Cyd. He was barely aware of Trevor and Colin parting to let him through, his pace slowing as Charisse came into view. She was seated about half-way up the staircase, between the ground and first floor, all her focus on sanding one of the bannister spindles. At first glance nothing appeared out of the norm, Cyd was wearing black shorts, smeared with dust, an olive green V-necked t-shirt and bright red sneakers on her feet. Her hair was back in a bouncy pony-tail, swaying gently as she moved. He glanced back at Trevor and Colin. Had he got it wrong? Was this some silly trick? No, the brothers looked genuinely concerned, Colin actually wringing his hands in worry.
