- -
- 100%
- +
The flashing neon lights of the Truck Inn came into view, casting a green-and-pink glow over the asphalt. Miranda parked and walked past the motel and gas station to the diner. Mae stood behind the counter, a clone of her twin, save for her bright red hair. She wore a frilly, plus-size Western blouse and black jeans that were a tad snug. She waved Miranda over the minute she stepped through the door.
“Miranda, honey, I’ve got a bowl of stew with your name on it.” Before she could protest, Mae set a plain white bowl, heaped full, on the counter, then poured a steaming mug of coffee. “This will get you goin’. No mocha lattes here.” She winked. Whipping out a napkin and silverware with a practiced ease acquired from waiting on hungry truck drivers for decades, Mae urged her to sit down. “Any word on Shannon?”
“Not yet.” Miranda blew on the coffee, then took a cautious sip. The strong brew nearly made her hair stand on end. Cowboy coffee. She set it down and added sugar. “The search party rode till dark. We’re going to pick up again at daylight.”
“Tori called earlier. Said there was folks on horses, ATVs and on foot.” Mae shook her head. “You know, my fanny might be a tad too wide to ride, but I can still manage a hike. You let me know if you need an extra pair of eyes and I’ll be there with bells on.”
Miranda gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, Mae. I sure appreciate it.”
A few customers sidled over and began to question Miranda about what had happened. She talked until she thought her brain would explode. The fact that her sister’s disappearance had become a source of gossip made her sick.
Leaving her stew half-finished, she threw some money on the counter. “I’ve gotta get home and feed. Thanks for the stew and coffee, Mae.”
“Anytime, sweetie. Anytime.” Mae swept the bowl out of sight and wiped the counter with an oversize damp cloth.
Outside, Miranda pointed her Chevy down the road. Her head felt woozy from lack of sleep. Even the coffee hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. Rolling down her window for a blast of cool night air, she focused on the drive.
She’d barely started down the highway that led to the county road turnoff for her ranch when she spotted flashing lights in her rearview mirror. Heart pounding, Miranda pulled over. Shannon. They’d found Shannon.
She was out of the truck before the familiar, dark green Blazer had even come to a complete stop behind her. Lucas slid from the SUV, scowling.
“You’re supposed to stay in your vehicle when an officer of the law pulls you over.”
“Did you find her?”
“What? No.” His features softened. “That’s not why I stopped you.”
“So, what—I have a taillight out? I was going fifty in a forty-five?” She folded her arms. “Lucas, I’m tired. Just write me a ticket for whatever I’ve done and I’ll be on my way.”
“Are you always such delightful company?” He glared at her from beneath the brim of his hat, his face backlit by his headlights.
She still found him far too attractive.
“Are you always on duty? For crying out loud, I thought you’d be home sleeping by now.”
“I could say the same of you, which, by the way, is why I pulled you over. You were weaving across the dotted line.”
“I wasn’t.” Miranda frowned. “Was I?”
“You’re dog-tired, with no business being behind the wheel. You could kill yourself—or someone else.”
She felt stupid. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Lucas gestured, official-like. “Pull your truck over on that wide spot there and park it. You can get it in the morning after you’ve had some sleep.”
She let her jaw drop. “And how do you expect me to get home?” He simply raised his brows. “Oh, no. I’m not riding with you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Lucas, I’m fine. I’m less than three miles from home.”
“Move your truck. Now.” He spun on his heel.
Cursing under her breath, even though she knew he was right, Miranda stomped over to the Chevy and moved it onto the pull off beside the highway. After locking the doors, she got into the passenger seat of the Blazer, refusing to look at Lucas. It was bad enough she’d had to be around him the better part of the day. But if he helped find Shannon…that was all that mattered.
He drove in silence for a few minutes, with only the crackle of his police radio as background noise.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” she finally asked.
“On occasion.”
“So you can drive tired, but I can’t?”
He shot her a sideways look. “I’m used to long hours. And your mom’s already beside herself with worry. She doesn’t need me showing up on her doorstep telling her I scraped you out of a ditch.” He turned off onto the county road.
Miranda faced straight ahead, blinking against the tired, gritty feeling behind her eyes. Shannon. Where are you?
Miranda’s Australian shepherds, Tuck and Smudge, trotted down the driveway, barking as Lucas pulled beneath the arched entrance to her ranch. The sign, hanging from it by sturdy chains, creaked in the wind. Bush Creek Ranch—Barrel Racing Clinic. Horses Broke and Trained. Lessons Available.
Surrounded by mountains, thick timber and brush, her one hundred acres was a haven, the seclusion more than welcome after such a stressful day.
“Thanks for the ride,” Miranda said grudgingly. She’d opened the door and gotten out when, to her annoyance, Lucas turned off the engine and did the same. She slammed the passenger door. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you feed. I’m officially off duty in two minutes.”
“I don’t need help, thanks.”
“Don’t be so damn stubborn. It’s late. Listen to them.” He nodded toward the barn and surrounding corrals. Horses whinnied and nickered, impatient at having missed their evening meal. “Two can feed faster than one.”
She didn’t want him here. Didn’t want to have a thing to do with the man who’d left her in a church and a white dress. But she needed him to help find Shannon.
Clamping her lips together, Miranda led the way to the barn. She pulled bales from the haystack and cut the twine, not saying a word. She knew she was behaving ungratefully—that she should thank Lucas for lending a hand, despite their personal grudges.
It was as she threw hay to the pretty red roan in the last stall that Miranda’s emotions got the best of her. She bit her lip—hard—and blinked back tears. She’d been training the roan as a barrel horse. For Shannon.
“Miranda?” Lucas laid a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged away as though she’d been burned. “I’m fine. Just stretching my neck.” She moved her head back and forth, massaging her pinched muscles.
“Let me.” She tried to knock them aside, but his hands found their way to either edge of her collarbone, and he worked his strong thumbs and fingers up and down her shoulders, her neck, getting rid of the kinks.
She closed her eyes, fighting her misgivings. The past was the past. Shannon was missing and possibly in grave danger, out in the wilderness alone—or worse. Up until that very minute, Miranda had wanted to pretend her sister was all right. That she’d merely taken a spill from her horse, whacked her head and gotten disoriented. That she’d show up any minute now on their mother’s doorstep, hurt but okay. She would laughingly explain what had happened. Lost my bearings. Got turned around in the trees and the dark.
But Shannon knew the woods and mountains like her own backyard. They were her backyard. One she and Miranda had grown up in, riding with their mom. Taking groups out with Paige from the time they were old enough to sit a horse.
Miranda stepped away from Lucas again and dropped onto a bale of hay. “I can’t stop thinking about Jo Ella.” She was just twenty-one. Shannon was older, probably stronger. Could she fight off an attacker? Was that where the blood had come from?
“Miranda, Lonnie Masterson is in jail. He can’t hurt Shannon.”
“He’s not the only kook out there, you know. Bad things happen in small towns, too.”
Lucas let out a tired sigh. “Try not to worry,” he said. “We’re going to find her.”
Miranda bit her lips again, nodding. “Yeah.”
But would it be too late?
CHAPTER THREE
LUCAS FOLLOWED MIRANDA to the house, accepting her offer of a Coke to go. He needed caffeine. But when he walked into the living room, he collapsed, every tired bone in his body aching. He perched on the end of the black leather couch. Just for a minute. The gray-and-blue throw pillows behind him, embroidered with horses, felt mighty inviting.
Miranda narrowed her eyes when she handed him his Coke a moment later, but said nothing. Instead, she slipped off her boots and sat at the opposite end of the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“We’ll get the search team out again…more volunteers. Kyle Miller’s living in Bozeman now, working with search and rescue.” Miranda had dated Kyle, back when they were kids. “He’s got a tracking dog. I spoke to Kyle earlier, and he’s going to bring the dog over. We’ll see if he can pick up Shannon’s trail.”
Hope lit Miranda’s eyes. “Good. I still can’t believe this is happening.” She pulled the band from her ponytail and raked a hand through her long, dark hair. Lucas recalled how tense her muscles had felt when he’d rubbed her neck and shoulders. He wished she’d let him comfort her.
Quiet claimed the room as Miranda sat lost in thought. Lucas let his own mind drift, mapping out the search procedure for tomorrow. They had to find Shannon. He wouldn’t rest until they did.
He wasn’t even aware that he’d dozed off until he awoke with a jerk. Disoriented for a moment, Lucas wondered where he was. Finding Miranda snuggled against him answered that question. She slept fitfully, her forehead creased. Her hair tumbled in disarray around her shoulders. It looked as if she’d fallen asleep, then inched her way prone, her knees now tucked close to her chest as she lay curled against him. She murmured something in her sleep.
Unable to resist, he reached down and caressed her face. If only things could be different…
She sighed, and the tense lines relaxed as he stroked her. The rough-and-tumble cowgirl—not afraid to ride the wildest horse or even a bull in her high school days—felt soft and feminine beneath his hand, her body warm. He hated to wake her, and wished he could stretch out beside her and wrap her in his arms.
“Miranda,” he said softly. She came instantly awake. Her eyes shot open, and widened when she saw him. She sat up.
“I guess I was tired. What are you still doing here?”
“I dozed off, too.”
“What time is it?” She covered a yawn and turned to look at the clock on the wall. “Five? Crud. I need to shower.” She rose quickly. “The search party’s going to meet at six?”
He nodded.
“Cripes! I forgot I don’t have my truck.” She glared at him, dispelling all fantasies he’d harbored a moment ago.
“I’ll run you to get it after your shower. Meanwhile, I’ll head home and take one myself. Need any help with your morning chores?”
“No, thanks. You’ve done enough.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
When he walked outside, the dogs circled and nipped at his heels. “Hey, knock it off!” He kept an eye on them over his shoulder as they followed him to the Blazer, barking once he was inside.
It was as though they were telling him what he already knew. He didn’t belong here with Miranda.
And he’d do well to remember that.
MIRANDA TRAILERED RANGER, her black gelding, over to the stables. Searchers were already gathering, along with a couple of reporters from the local press. Lucas had brought his own horse, too, a stocky buckskin. Within a short time, Miranda had Ranger saddled, ready to ride. A silver SUV pulled up by the barn, and a tall man wearing a ball cap—Kyle Miller—unloaded a black German shepherd from the back. Miranda had expected a bloodhound. Then again, she’d seen other breeds used for tracking. She watched as Kyle spoke to Lucas, then the two came toward her and Paige.
“Kyle,” Miranda said. “I haven’t seen you since ninth grade. I almost didn’t recognize you with the mustache and all.” He sported a neatly trimmed, goatee-style beard.
“I’ve been hearing that ever since I moved back to Montana,” he said, his dark eyes taking her in.
“Thank you for coming, Kyle,” Paige said.
“I’m happy to help. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get out here yesterday. We were conducting a search for a lost child over in Blue Ridge Park. Found him, safe and sound.” Kyle beamed proudly at the big shepherd. “If your daughter is out there, Blackhawk will find her.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Do you still ride?” Miranda asked. “Will your dog follow a horse?”
“I ride, and Blackhawk will stick with me. But to work the scent, I need to be on foot.”
“That’s fine, but it’s a ways out to the place where Shannon’s trail disappeared. It’ll be faster to get there on horseback.”
“That’ll do. We can work the trail from there. I’ll need an item of Shannon’s clothing, preferably something she’s recently worn.”
“I already have it,” Paige said. She handed over a paper bag. “It’s one of her T-shirts.”
“Perfect.”
“Okay,” Miranda said. “Let’s go.”
Kyle mounted up on one of the dude horses, and the four of them headed out the east fork, while Garrett and Deputy Mac Frazier stayed behind to supervise a search grid. In spite of the mild early morning temperature, Miranda shivered as they neared the rock where they’d found Shannon’s blood.
Kyle climbed off his horse and traded Blackhawk’s collar for a leash and harness. The dog grew excited. It was time to work. Kyle took Shannon’s T-shirt and let the animal sniff it, giving him encouragement and the command “Go find.”
Miranda watched, fascinated, as the shepherd sniffed the rock, then lowered his head to investigate the patch of blood, which had dried to a dark brown. He circled and immediately picked up a scent. He set off, Kyle clutching the long lead, the pair climbing the steep hillside in a direction Miranda hadn’t taken yesterday. One too steep for the horses to go.
Dismounting, she handed her reins to her mother. “Will you wait here? Hold Ranger for me, Mom?”
Paige nodded. Her anxious expression told Miranda she was afraid of what the dog might find. Which was precisely why Miranda wanted to go without her.
Lucas left the buckskin’s reins dangling. “He won’t go anywhere as long as the other horses stay put, Paige. You’ll be all right by yourself?” He gave Miranda a pointed look.
“I’m going,” she reiterated.
“All right.”
“It’s okay—go,” Paige said. But she looked scared, and the bags beneath her eyes told Miranda she’d cried herself to sleep last night. Paige rarely cried.
Determined to find her sister, one way or another, Miranda climbed.
“We need to keep back out of Kyle’s way,” Lucas said.
“I understand.”
“Now you can see what I was trying to tell you yesterday,” he said. “That Shannon could’ve gone in any direction.”
Miranda’s face warmed with resentment. “I realize that. But I told you. I had to try to find her.”
“We will.”
They continued to climb, the going impossibly steep for a long stretch, the ground too hard-packed and rocky to see footprints. Then Blackhawk and Kyle angled off on a game trail that took a less perilous route. They wound through brush and rock, steadily climbing before dropping down again toward a gully.
“I hope this dog knows what he’s doing,” Miranda muttered. Below, Paige and the horses had become dots in the distance, then disappeared.
“He’s the best,” Lucas said. He paused to catch his breath, forcing Miranda to halt as well, then continued on.
Twenty minutes later, they heard the sound of moving water. Up ahead a wide stream pooled into a small lake. If Shannon had somehow managed to cross the water, would Blackhawk be able to pick up her trail on the other side? The stream definitely wasn’t small enough to jump. So how would Shannon have crossed it, if she were injured?
Unless she hadn’t been on her own.
Miranda swallowed hard, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to calm down.
The brush grew thicker, and Blackhawk and Kyle disappeared into the midst of it. Lucas hurried to catch up, Miranda on his heels. A staccato bark, followed by a triumphant shout, reached their ears as they burst from the cover and came out on the stream bank.
Kyle stooped to praise and pet his dog, rewarding him with a ball on a rope. “Good boy, Blackhawk! Atta boy.”
“What?” Miranda asked. “What did he find?” She didn’t see anything on the rocky creek bed. Then Kyle pointed out a bit of color at the edge of the water.
“There,” he said.
She gasped. A faded, teal-blue scrunchie. The one Shannon had used to pull her hair into a ponytail yesterday before she rode away.
“That’s Shannon’s,” Miranda said, bending to reach for it.
“Don’t touch it,” Lucas said sharply. From his shirt pocket, he took out a digital camera and began to snap pictures, then extracted a plastic evidence bag from his denim jacket. Using a pen, he lifted the scrunchie and put it in the bag.
“She was here,” Miranda said unnecessarily.
“She must’ve crossed the water,” Lucas said, staring at the rapidly flowing stream. “Can you pick up her trail on the other side, Kyle?”
“I can sure try.” Kyle studied the area, as did Lucas and Miranda.
“We need to find a better place to cross,” Lucas said. “The water’s too fast here.” He frowned. “Are you sure the trail stops dead right here?”
Kyle nodded. “Blackhawk would’ve gone on if it followed the bank.”
“All right, then,” Lucas said, his jaw set. “We’ll just find a place to cross. But we need to mark this area.” He took off his denim jacket, unloaded the pockets and tied it to a sapling near the water’s edge. Then he gathered some rocks, with Miranda’s and Kyle’s help, and at the base of the tree made a pile that could be seen for some distance. “That ought to do.” He pocketed the evidence bag. “Let’s go.”
The three of them set out along the creek bank, picking their way through brush and rock. It was a good while before they found a possible place to cross, where the water was shallow and enough exposed rock and gravel provided a makeshift footbridge to the other side. Blackhawk splashed on in, not seeming to mind getting wet, and Miranda studied the dog to see if he picked up anything. Had Shannon found this crossing and used it? Or had she gone through the water at another spot?
Trying not to despair at the enormity of the task ahead, Miranda watched Kyle once again take Shannon’s T-shirt from the bag Paige had given him, and wave it under Blackhawk’s nose. The shepherd sniffed it and then, at Kyle’s instruction, began searching the ground.
They headed back the direction they’d come, keeping an eye out for the sapling Lucas had marked with his jacket. If Shannon had emerged from the stream at any point near where she’d dropped her hair tie, they ought to be able to find her trail. But though Kyle worked Blackhawk up one side and down the other, the shepherd came up empty.
“Why the hell isn’t he finding her scent?” Miranda closed her eyes. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Understandable,” Kyle said.
“I appreciate your help,” Miranda added. She knew Kyle would do anything in his power to find her sister.
He halted, frowning. “Maybe we ought to search around the lake.
“Keep your eye out for tracks,” Lucas said unnecessarily as they headed downstream. But though they walked the entire perimeter of the lake, they didn’t see any human footprints. And Blackhawk still picked up nothing.
After an hour, they stopped to rest.
Kyle looked as frustrated as Miranda felt. “I’m sorry, Miranda,” he said. “I don’t understand this. Unless your sister came out of the water at a place we haven’t covered yet.”
“I don’t see how that could be,” Lucas said, taking off his hat to wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. “We’ve gone about as far in both directions as a person could expect to walk.”
Miranda dropped onto a fallen log, feeling more helpless than she ever had in her life. She folded her arms to keep from shaking. “She’d never wander off this far willingly. My God, she could be in the hands of a rapist…a killer.” Miranda met Lucas’s gaze. “I know Lonnie Masterson’s in jail, but what about a copycat…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Copycat killer.
Lucas wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Hey. Calm down, Miranda. This is a positive lead. We found her hair tie, and we’re going to find her.”
“Positive?” She pulled away from him. “How can you say that? The only thing I’m positive about is that some maniac has kidnapped my sister.” Unable to stop the tears, she angrily wiped them away. “Damn it! Why? Why Shannon? Lucas, what has happened to my sister?”
“I don’t know,” he said darkly. “But I’m damn sure going to find out. Let’s head back to the horses.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“DID YOU FIND ANYTHING, Sheriff Blaylock?”
“Mrs. Ward, is it true there were blood and claw marks on your daughter’s horse?”
“Back off!” Miranda thumped her heels against Ranger’s sides, plowing through the group of reporters circling her mom like a pack of wolves. Cameramen and journalists scattered.
“Hey, that’s expensive equipment, lady!” A tall, skinny guy reached for his zoom lens, which had fallen in the dirt.
“And this is private property.” Miranda stared him down.
“Clear out,” Lucas said above the hubbub of the crowd.
Miranda had expected the press, but she’d never thought they’d come en masse. News trucks and cars from every television and radio station within a hundred-mile radius lined the ranch’s driveway. Thankfully, Lucas and his deputies somehow got them all to leave.
“Chet,” Paige said, “Go down and close the gate, will you please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The lanky cowboy turned his horse and trotted off.
A camera flash went off in Miranda’s face just as she swung down from the saddle. She managed to get her foot out of the stirrup before stumbling into Lucas.
Where in thunder had it come from?
“I thought you were told to leave,” the sheriff growled. He took a menacing step toward the reporter, his horse’s reins clutched in one hand, the other fisted at his side. “Get the hell away from that tree and out of here, or so help me God I’ll throw you in jail for trespassing!”
Miranda barely heard him. Spots from the camera’s flash danced across her vision. It took a half minute to realize that wasn’t the cause of her nauseating dizziness. It was the memory of another camera. Another newspaper reporter.
Smile now, lovebirds. That’s it. Look like you’re already on your honeymoon. Perfect…
The woman who wrote the local wedding and engagement column for the Sage Bend News had had Miranda and Lucas pose for several shots to make sure she had a good one. The photo appeared the following day on page three, Lucas looking sexy in his white hat and Western suit as he smiled for the camera; Miranda, clearly happy, in a melon-colored dress Shannon had helped her pick out. She’d felt like the luckiest woman on earth as she’d leaned into Lucas, his arm wrapped protectively—lovingly—around her waist, her hand on his as though she’d never let go….
Miranda took a deep breath, and her queasiness gradually faded. At the sound of tires crunching over gravel, she looked down the driveway to see an old, beat-up pickup truck heading their way.
“Lucas, isn’t that your sister-in-law?” Paige asked.
“Yep.” Lucas stood waiting beside Miranda as Dena Blaylock got out of her truck, a large box cradled in her arms.
Lucas passed his reins to Miranda and moved to help as Dena extended her offering. The sleeve of the other woman’s shirt rode up an inch or so, and Miranda saw a greenish-yellow, days-old bruise on her wrist.