Little girl lost

Ruby Hudson finds new evidence that could shed light on her childhood friend’s disappearance. But she’ll have to fight for her life to keep it out of the wrong person’s hands. Cooper Stokes’ brother is still the prime suspect, and as the cold case heats up, so do Ruby’s forgotten feelings for Cooper. Ruby wants justice for her friend. Cooper wants to prove his brother’s innocence. Despite being on opposite sides, they find themselves drawn to one another. But the deeper they dig into decades-old secrets, the closer they come to having to make a choice between family and love.

Wings of Danger: The path to love is treacherous

Fear rippled through her.

Her attacker was still at large somewhere, but Ruby did not think he would brave the sanctuary property, and definitely not with the police on the lookout.

Anxiety lingered in her veins, but she forced herself into action anyway. Her whole life had been steeped in fear that shadowed her every moment since her friend’s disappearance, and she was sick of it. Finally, there was a chance to shed some light on that darkness, and she would not let the precious moment pass.

She had almost reached the tree when she heard footsteps running through the underbrush, moving fast, coming close. She slipped behind a screen of bushes, heart thudding. Her two brushes with death replayed in her mind. She felt the knife slicing into her flesh and felt the hot breath against her throat. The thoughts ratcheted her pulse even faster.

Stay hidden, she told herself. You’re safe.

Not in these woods, her mind taunted.

Not anywhere.

DANA MENTINK

is an award-winning author of Christian fiction. Her novel Betrayal in the Badlands won a 2010 RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, and she was pleased to win the 2013 Carol Award for Lost Legacy. She has authored more than a dozen Love Inspired Suspense novels. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her via her website at www.danamentink.com.

Hazardous Homecoming

Dana Mentink

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

—Matthew 10:29–31

To my two little birds poised at the edge of the nest.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Something glittered, garish and out of place against the massive framework of sticks that comprised the abandoned eagle’s nest, a flash of metal, gold. Ruby Hudson shaded her eyes and peered through her binoculars at the aerie tucked high in the pine tree and moved to find out what the glittering object was. She estimated the structure to be a good two tons worth of tangled branches, no doubt added on to and reused by many generations of eagle pairs since her father purchased the land in the wilds of Oregon decades ago. It had been hemmed in by a tight clench of fir trees, recently removed due to borer beetle damage. The disease had taken hold throughout the area. Ruby had been distraught to watch the nearby trees cut down. So had Josephine Walker, who lived nearby.

“You can’t cut them,” Josephine had wailed. “My Alice won’t be able to find her way home.”

Alice won’t be coming home, Ruby’s heart had answered. Not after twenty years.

Now the sharp scent of the felled trees mingled with a small pain wriggling through her stomach again. If her family had never come, she wondered for the millionth time, would the tragedy have still occurred?

Stop it, Ruby. It isn’t healthy. She loved the property, the birds, the endless blue sky and the smell of life burgeoning all around her. The Hudson Raptor Sanctuary had saved countless birds, it was a haven...and also the place where she’d first learned what evil was. The memory of Alice Walker came to mind, hair so fine it blew in the breeze like downy feathers, and eyes of... Had they been blue? It bothered her that she could not remember.

If the Hudson family—Ruby, her father and brother— had only remained in San Francisco it never would have happened, the one fleeting moment that changed them all forever. She slapped away a leaf that had become tangled in her auburn hair. Blue or green? She should know the color of Alice’s eyes.

Her skin prickled as the leaves rattled out a hollow rasping chorus in the breeze. It had been a June day then, too. Ruby, desperate to play outside, had badgered her father until he acquiesced with strict orders—she was only to walk to the end of the graveled path and back with little Alice who had come to play.

No straying, Ruby.

The woods were dark and dangerous.

More than dangerous, she’d learned.

Deadly.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, along with the feeling that there were eyes on her that very moment. The same sensation she’d gotten the day before, and on and off for weeks since the tree removal had begun. She suspected it was Josephine again, following her, begging her not to cut the trees that somehow preserved the hope that her daughter would return.

She listened. Nothing. There is no evil in these woods, she told herself firmly.

Then what happened to Alice all those years ago? She’d seen Peter Stokes that day, a jovial fifteen-year-old who lived nearby with his mother and little brother, Cooper. Peter had become the main suspect for a while.

He’d returned to the tiny town of Silver Peak four months ago, living in the rickety cabin just beyond the edge of sanctuary property. She wondered how she would feel if they came face-to-face. Was he a man she’d falsely accused? Or the person who hid the guilty truth from them all?

Ruby shook the clinging past aside and climbed up the rough limbs.

A drop of moisture fell from above and left a cold trail along her temple. She shimmied up, using the latticework of branches. She’d measured the nest before, adding to her study notes, a good nine feet in diameter, conical, wedged into the fork of the pine. The nest had been abandoned years before as the trees around grew taller. Eagles liked to have a clear, unobstructed view. The glimmer of gold was a few feet away and she had to take a precarious step out onto a lower branch to reach it. It creaked ominously under her feet. With straining fingers she stretched farther, past the bleached white bones of a rabbit and the glistening ribs of a long-dead trout. A few inches more.

Sweat beaded her brow in spite of the cool. She could not reach it, not without stepping out onto a weaker branch that would deliver her fifteen feet straight to the ground. She remembered the pencil behind her ear and used it to hook the gold object. It was stuck on a dried conifer branch, one of many wedged into the aerie by the male during incubation for some reason known only to eagles. She dislodged it, sending a cascade of brittle bones to the forest floor.

She scooted toward the trunk and stared at the object in her hands.

A necklace, small and delicate. Her heart froze over, the beats crystallizing in horror as she contemplated the heart charm hanging from the chain with a letter inscribed on it. A tiny A.

For Alice.

The child who had vanished without a trace that long ago day in the dark and dangerous woods. It was as if all her memories flooded her mind in one horrifying rush. Alice, Alice, her mind cried out. What happened to you? Did Peter hurt you? Was it a stranger? What should I have done? The cold metal locket seemed to chill her palm.

Somehow, her body guided her down from the tree until she dropped heavily onto the soft cushion of needles.

She stared at the necklace dangling from her nerveless fingers.

“My baby’s,” came a sibilant whisper that made Ruby cry out.

She whirled to see a gaunt woman, gray eyes in a dead white face. Long silvered hair streamed over her shoulders. Her mouth was twisted in a horrified line. “That necklace. It belongs to my baby. I want it.”

Ruby forced her mouth to work. “Mrs. Walker?” Ruby felt the hunger in Josephine’s eyes, a ferocious need to connect to Ruby because Ruby was there and her daughter was not.

“It’s Alice’s. You took it. You took her. I see the truth now. It wasn’t a stranger. Or Peter. It was you.”

“No,” Ruby started to say until anguish closed up her throat. She fought for breath. “Mrs. Walker, I don’t know what happened to Alice. I did not see the person who took her. Remember? I told you before.”

She pointed a finger at Ruby, the nail broken and dirty. “You wanted her necklace. Give it to me.”

Fear arced violently inside Ruby. “I found it in the nest, up there.”

Mrs. Walker did not look up. Her red-rimmed gaze never left Ruby’s face.

“You took her.”

“No, I did not. Alice was my friend. I would never...” Ruby’s throat thickened as she fought tears. She moved back a step. “This is evidence. We can go to the police again. It might help them find her.” She felt cruel saying it. After two decades they would not find Alice, not alive anyway. Everyone knew this, yet a tiny flame of hope never died inside Ruby, and she knew that flame must be a roaring fire inside the mother whose daughter had vanished without a trace.

Mrs. Walker cocked her head and for a moment, Ruby thought she understood. Then her eyes narrowed, mouth twisted. “I’ve been watching you. All these months, I’ve been watching you make your plans to hide your guilt. Did you think cutting down the forest would keep you safe?”

Cold rippled through Ruby’s body. She could not reply.

“You took my daughter, and you want to take her necklace now. That was from her father. You cut down the trees so she can’t find her way home.”

“Mrs. Walker,” Ruby whispered. “Please listen to me.”

Mrs. Walker pulled a knife from her pocket. She gripped the white handle, the blade winking in the dappled light. Ruby’s mouth went dry.

“You took my Alice.”

Ruby could only shake her head, the necklace vibrating in her trembling hand.

“You took my baby,” Mrs. Walker said again. With each word her voice rose in volume until it was a shriek that reverberated through the trees, startling two Meadowlarks into flight. “I want her back.”

Ruby screamed and threw up her hand as the knife flashed toward her.

* * *

“Peter?”

No answer.

Cooper Stokes regarded the mess of a cabin his family had called home once upon a time. Though his brother, Peter, had returned some months before, dust blanketed the shelves, the carpet was dark with ugly stains and everything that had been worth a nickel had been hocked, no doubt. A mouse skittered along the top of the kitchen cupboard, regarding him with curious, twitching whiskers as if to ask why anyone of the human variety would choose to come here.

“No choice, mouse, so deal with it,” he said, his voice odd and hollow in the silent space. It was a wreck, in much the same way his brother Peter’s life had been for the past twenty years since suspicion cloaked him in a cloud of darkness from which he couldn’t escape. Cooper sneezed, a wave of doubt rushing through him. He’d allowed himself to believe that Peter was sober, holding down a job, finally. Cooper’s contract to work in the adjoining national forest seemed serendipitous. Go crash with Peter for a while. To enjoy the company of his sober brother? His darker thoughts took over. Or to check up on him?

It was incredible to think that Peter could again make a home here in this wreck, especially with the memories crawling around as numerous as the rodents.

Suddenly, he felt closed in by the space, though the high ceiling gave ample room even for his six-foot frame. Dust eddied around his feet as he escaped onto the front porch, sucking in deep breaths which calmed his nerves. The view outside made up for the disastrous interior. Pete’s cabin backed onto the Hudson Raptor Sanctuary.

A sanctuary. Ironic. Peter had found no sanctuary there, not one friendly soul to believe in his innocence.

A scream split the air and he froze. Bird?

Another shrill cry. The hair on his arms raised as he determined it was not an animal sound, but human.

He vaulted over the split railing rather than taking time for the stairs and charged onto the sanctuary property, sprinting along a path in the direction from which he thought he’d detected the scream. Five minutes later he stopped, breathing hard. Trees crowded every square inch of the forest floor except for a narrow ribbon of trail that branched off into two directions. Which way? He listened.

Shouts now, instead of the scream, coming from the eastern fork of the trail. He barreled ahead, slapping branches out of his way. Small critters, maybe lizards, maybe not, scuttled away from his graceless progress.

Finally he emerged into a hollow, filled with cracked boulders that hemmed in a massive threesome of pines.

An older woman with long silver hair whirled to face him.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

The woman didn’t answer, but something in her eyes caused his pulse to tick up a notch. A vacancy in the pupils, insanity even.

Then he saw the knife in her hand, something dark staining the handle.

“She took my daughter,” she said, voice low and soft.

“She?” Cooper dropped his gaze to the ground behind the lady, finally noticing what his brain did not want to believe. A young woman lay on her side unmoving, auburn hair covering her face.

“She needs help,” he said, in what he hoped was a placating tone.

“No, no, no,” the old woman chanted. “She took my girl.”

The last word was gathered up by the wind that danced around the grove, caught along with the pine needles that drifted, lifeless to the ground.

He kept his voice low and level. “Whatever it is that you think she did, it’s no reason to hurt her. Move away and let me help. Please.”

The woman looked at the prone figure lying at her feet. “I had a girl once.”

“So you know how sad her family will be if she doesn’t come home.”

She nodded, a sudden wash of tears coursing down her cheeks. “Yes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They’ll be so sad because they’ll never know.”

He didn’t follow, but there was no time to press the point. If the girl had been stabbed, she might be bleeding out. “Yes, very sad. Let me help her.”

A long moment passed while the woman considered, hair rippling around her face. Abruptly, she shuffled into the trees, making her own way where there was no trail to be seen.

Cooper went to the victim, pushing aside the sheaf of hair. There was something familiar about the heart-shaped face, spattered with freckles, wide cheekbones and a delicate mouth. A bruise darkened her right temple.

She was breathing on her own. A blessing he’d take gratefully. He ran his hands along her slender arms and legs, checking both for breaks and blood. Everything appeared to be intact. Gently he lifted the bottom edge of her jacket, near a tear that pointed to the knife entry point.

There was a grunt from somewhere behind him, guttural and bearlike and Cooper felt himself being jerked back and slammed against a tree. He stared into the furious face of Mick Hudson. Things became clear in spite of the ringing in his head. The woman on the ground was Mick’s sister Ruby, whom Cooper had not seen since she’d ruined his brother’s life.

Cooper blocked an incoming punch and threw his own weight against the big man, knocking him back, but only for a moment.

“What did you do to my sister?” Mick barked.

“Nothing. I heard a scream. There was a crazy woman standing over her with a knife. She’s hurt and while you stand here trying to take me down, she may be bleeding to death.”

Mick considered for a split second before he knelt by his sister, shoulders still heaving. “Bee, honey?” he whispered in a tender voice totally out of keeping with his toughened face and fists. He looked from her to Cooper.

“You a doctor?”

“No, but I’ve got some medical training. I was checking for a stab wound when you jumped me.”

Mick moved aside. “Well, help her then.” He obviously did not remember Cooper Stokes, brother of the most despised man in the county. Just as well.

Cooper bent and resumed his examination. “Here,” he said, pointing to a thin ribbon of blood bisecting Ruby’s creamy skin at the waist. “She’s cut, but it’s not deep. She’s got a bump on her head which might be a bigger issue. We should get her to a doctor.”

“I’ll do it. Thanks.” Mick didn’t wait for any more discussion. He lifted Ruby from the ground and plunged back down the path from which he’d come. Cooper flexed his shoulder, sore from getting shoved into the tree trunk. He should go back to the cabin, let go of the thought of the red-haired Ruby Hudson, especially after what she’d done. It was clear that if he dared to follow Mick there would be trouble.

Trouble?

That was just fine with Cooper. He’d had his share of it, and he wasn’t going to shy away.

He took off through the dappled woods after Mick and his wounded sister.

TWO

Ruby registered two things—the cool wet towel being applied to her head and the worry creases on the forehead of her brother who was taping some sort of bandage to her side. She sat up with a hiss.

“Ouch. That hurts.”

“You were stabbed. Not deep, just long,” Mick said. “Taking you to the doctor anyway.”

She shook the hair out of her face. “No, you’re not. I’m fine, and we don’t need to go to the doctor. We need the police.”

“I didn’t catch the lady,” said a voice from the open front door. “Sorry, but your well-being seemed more important at the time.”

Ruby blinked against the sunlight which rendered the speaker no more than a blurry silhouette. “Who...?”

“Cooper Stokes,” said the tall man.

“Cooper? You’re...”

“Peter’s brother, yes. We haven’t seen each other in a long time. I think I was seven to your five when Alice was snatched, if memory serves.”

Mick’s eyes were cold steel. “You have no business here. Your mother called my sister a liar all those years ago when Alice disappeared.”

“And your sister accused my brother of kidnapping. Peter’s life was ruined and it seems to me that you all are doing just fine, so who has the bigger right to a grudge, I wonder?”

“Do you want him to leave?” said Mick to Ruby, “because I don’t have a problem throwing him out.”

“It would be harder than you think,” Cooper said quietly.

Ruby was about to answer, but instead she cried out as Mick taped the bandage to her side. “Sorry, Bee.” The tone was gentle until he turned back to Cooper.

“My sister’s hurt. She needs to be left alone right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” Cooper said. “I’ll be happy to go with you to the police if you need me. I’m what you call a witness, I think. I didn’t see the attack, but maybe I can tell them about the lady with a bloody knife.”

“The lady was Josephine Walker, and I’m not pressing charges.” She heard Cooper suck in a breath. From the corner of her eye, his crew-cut blond hair glimmered in the light, and she could feel him tracking her every movement.

“That was Alice’s mother?” Cooper shifted, eyes darting in thought.

“Of course you’re pressing charges,” Mick said. “Lady tried to kill you.”

“She’s not in her right mind. She’s been following me for months, and she saw me find...”

Both men stood stock still.

She forced a businesslike tone. “I found Alice’s locket. It was tangled in the branches of the abandoned eagle’s nest.”

Two sets of shocked eyes stared at her.

“Are you sure it belonged to Alice?” Cooper demanded, moving closer, hands on his waist. Stylish jeans, she noticed, well-cut shirt that molded to his trim body.

“I’m pretty sure, but she took it before she stabbed me. We need to talk to the police and get it back. It could prove...” What? Who had taken Alice? Where she had wound up? Or nothing at all.

Cooper’s lips thinned into a tight line. “Maybe there’s DNA on it that will prove finally that my brother was not the kidnapper.”

“Your brother was never even charged,” Mick said.

“Didn’t have to be. He was a fifteen-year-old kid. The accusation, the looks, the way he was shut out, turned him into an alcoholic.” Ruby looked at the floor.

“It wasn’t an accusation. Your brother was in the woods that day. I saw him. It was a fact.”

“He denies it, and he didn’t kidnap that girl, but not one person in this town believed him, especially the two of you. The police questioned you also, Mick, didn’t they? But people believed your story.”

“Because mine wasn’t a story, it was true.” Mick shook his head. “I had a fight with Alice’s father the night before. I left in a huff. End of story. If Peter was innocent, then he got a bum rap, but turning to alcohol was his choice.”

“Maybe you should try being convicted by everyone who used to call you friend and see how you deal with it,” Cooper snarled.

He was face-to-face with Mick, and both looked as though they could easily throw a punch.

“Enough,” Ruby said. She stood so quickly her head spun and both Mick and Cooper put steadying hands under her arms, which she shook away.

“Sit down, Bee,” Mick said. “Please.”

“No. We have to go to town to talk to Sheriff Pickford so he can get the necklace from Josephine. It may finally be the clue that tells us what happened to her.” Ruby was irritated to find that her eyes were wet. After so many years of fear, sorrow and a crushing weight of guilt, the answer might be at their fingertips, the answer to the question that had tortured her for two decades.

Alice, where are you?

She would not waste a moment. “I’m going,” she said, reaching for her purse.

“I’ll drive you,” Mick said, in a tone that indicated he was dealing with a creature he could never hope to understand.

“All right then.” In spite of the throbbing in her temples, she moved in as dignified a fashion as she could past Cooper to the door. Was it really a wall of anger that seemed to roil out of him like storm clouds, or was it her imagination?

“Thank you,” she managed. “For helping me in the woods.”

He gave her a courtly bow. “Anything for a damsel in distress.”

Even a damsel you believe destroyed your brother?

Mick grabbed his cell phone. “I’ll call dad on the way.”

“Your father’s still a private eye?” Cooper asked, arms folded as he slouched against the doorframe.

“Retired,” Mick said with no further explanation.

Ruby thought it might be an opening to restore a more civil relationship between them. Whatever he thought of her, Cooper had gone out of his way to help. “Your brother...is he...okay now? I know he’s living in the cabin.”

“Sober, at the moment, and he’s got a small job of some kind. Always wanted to be a firefighter, but they don’t welcome people with his history into that line of work.”

Ruby felt her stomach tighten. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” he said, watching as Mick led Ruby out the door and to the car.

* * *

Cooper would not reveal it for a king’s treasure, but he was reeling inside from the shock as he drove his pickup into town, sick with fear that the Alice Walker incident was abruptly springing back to life. He’d come back to make sure Peter had a home again, that he’d permanently given up living in a car or on the streets. What strange twist of circumstance was it that the whole sordid past should be ripped open now, like a poorly healed wound?

God, I thought you were on this? That the past was finished and done with? He and Peter had worked so hard to let go of what lay behind them and press toward the future. Wasn’t that what it said in Philippians 3? He felt the old familiar stir of anger, the one he’d fought all his life to crush. He’d decided to read those words, in the tattered Bible left by his father before he’d died in a wreck before Alice was taken. Years later as a twenty year old, he’d eventually listened to a friend and mentor who had encouraged him into a small group where he fit in like a snowman in the Sahara. Slowly, slowly, the peace and comfort in that old book was seeping into his soul, but sometimes there were moments when it seemed too hard to hold on to in a world where there was seemingly no justice or peace.

He arrived at the sheriff’s office a minute after Ruby and her brother did. They sat in a depressing wood-paneled room that had not changed since the fifties when Cooper guessed it had first been constructed. Sheriff Wallace Pickford was a big man with strong shoulders and the weathered skin of a person who spent time outside and liked it.

Pickford turned on an iPad that looked ridiculously small under his massive paws. Nonetheless, he opened a file with amazing speed considering he was only using his pointer fingers to type.

Pickford fixed a heavy stare at Ruby. “Mick says you’re stubbornly refusing to go to the hospital. Do I have that right?”

Ruby’s cheeks pinked, her coloring like a china doll Cooper’s grandmother used to own. “We have to get the locket from Josephine. It might tell us what happened to Alice.”

Pickford’s eyes drifted to Cooper. “Hello, Mr. Stokes. You’re back. Joining your brother?”

“Temporarily,” Cooper said.

“Hmm. Bad time for both you boys to be back in town,” Pickford said, fingers poised above the keys.

“Why shouldn’t we be here?” Cooper said. “It’s our property, and Peter hasn’t done anything. He’s got a right to live here and so do I.”

Pickford shrugged. “Just thinking the climate might not be good, since the Alice Walker case just officially reopened.”

Cooper was about to tell the sheriff exactly what he thought of the climate, when a silver-haired, mustached man entered. Perry Hudson. Ruby’s father was probably nearing sixty, if Cooper remembered correctly, but his shoulders were still square and his body trim and athletic.

Pickford’s mouth tightened.

“Mick told me over the phone,” Perry said, rushing to Ruby and assuring himself that she was unharmed. He raised an eyebrow at Cooper. “I think I owe you a thank-you for helping my daughter.”

Cooper allowed his hand to be shaken. “Surprised you started with a thank-you.”

Perry frowned. “I know we’ve got bad blood between us...”

“Because you tried to prove my brother kidnapped Alice Walker.” Ruby flinched at his tone, but he didn’t let it slow him. No more kid gloves. If Peter was going to claim any chance at a future, it was up to Cooper to lay the groundwork. Cooper’s “live and let live” philosophy would not serve here.

“I investigated your brother,” Perry said calmly, “because he was the likeliest suspect and he was in the proximity at the time.”

“Which doesn’t make him guilty. And your son Mick was close in age to Peter and in the same proximity.”

Mick glared and started to answer, but Pickford cut him off.

“That’s why we checked him out, too, as well as investigating Lester Walker,” Pickford said. “Can we get on with the matter at hand? My wife has a pot of chili on the stove.” He flicked a glance at Perry. “You know how good Molly’s chili is, don’t you Perry?”

Perry stared at him. “Yes.”

Cooper didn’t understand the subtext of whatever was going on between Pickford and Ruby’s father. Hostility? Distrust?

Ruby detailed the encounter with Josephine Walker. “So we have to get that locket.”

“All right,” Pickford said, grabbing his radio. “Let’s just go do that.”

They did not make it farther than the front counter before the door banged open. Josephine clumped in, a shocked silence burying them all for a moment at her wild-eyed stare, her dress bunched and knotted, dirty hem dragging on the floor.

Pickford recovered first. “Mrs. Walker. Come into my office. We were just making plans to go see you.” They returned to the back and he continued. “Ruby said you’ve got a locket. I’ll need to have a look at that.”

“He’s coming back,” she said. “He called me a few minutes ago to tell me so.”

“Who has, ma’am?”

“My husband.”

Cooper tried not to look disbelieving, but he knew Lester Walker had taken to acting strangely, convinced that the Hudsons or Peter knew something they weren’t telling about his daughter’s abduction. Days after Alice’s abduction, he’d disappeared, too, though the police had no evidence to suggest he’d done anything to his daughter and had not even been in the county when she was snatched. Indeed the man was grief stricken, according to accounts that Cooper had heard. Lester hadn’t been seen since, that Cooper was aware of.

Pickford fiddled with the three-hole punch on his desk. “Your husband is coming back, ma’am? Mr. Walker?”

She nodded, a smile of satisfaction pulling at her thin lips. “Yes, and he’ll make sure my baby is found.” Her eyes slid to Ruby. “You’re going to pay now. For what you did.”

“She did nothing,” Mr. Hudson said.

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Walker singsonged. “Oh, yes.”

Cooper saw delicate patches of color deepen on Ruby’s cheeks.

“I did not hurt Alice, Mrs. Walker. She was my friend, and I’ve grieved every day since she disappeared.” Her voice hitched, and she cleared her throat. “You need to give Sheriff Pickford the locket so he can have it DNA tested.”

She glared at Ruby. “It’s at home. My husband is on his way to get it. He told me when he called.”

The chief held up his hands to soothe her. “All right. We’ll just call your husband to talk it over. Okay? What’s the number?”

“He doesn’t have a cell phone. He called from a pay phone on his way to our house. He must have felt deep in his soul what was happening with our Alice, and he called just at the time we needed him the most. I told him about the locket.”

“We’ll go talk to him in person, then, at your place.”

“That’s a good idea, before anything happens to the locket.” Ruby strode to the door.

“Not to be rude at all, Ruby, but this is a police matter now. You’re not to tag along.” The sheriff shot a glance at Perry. “Or any of the clan.”

Cooper knew he was included in the directive, as well. Stay away. Let the police handle it. The last time he’d trusted the police to handle things, his brother had been brought in for questioning, turned into the object of hatred by the whole town. He wasn’t going to intrude on an investigation, but he was not going to be the mild-mannered bystander either.

Ruby’s expression was a blend of anger, determination and exasperation. He was struck by the fact that as much as he did not have fond feelings for the Hudson family, he could not deny that it was hard to tear his eyes away from Ruby. Her hair was the kind of rusty red found in autumn leaves, skin creamy and porcelain, but she was certainly not fragile. Ruby was dainty and graceful, but he knew there was steel running along her spine.

“He’s right. Let’s take you to the doctor and see to your injury,” Perry said.

Pickford focused again on Josephine. “You’re very fortunate that Ruby wasn’t injured badly and isn’t pressing charges, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take action if I believe you’re intending to hurt someone. I’m going to insist you go speak to one of the doctors at the hospital right now.”

Josephine frowned.

“Let’s have you all wait outside for just a minute,” Pickford said. “I need to make a phone call.”

Mick was already heading to the door, looking relieved that he’d been sprung from the tiny, crowded room.

Perry thanked the sheriff and nodded to Cooper before he exited, as well.

Considering the Hudsons were low on the list of his favorite families, he could not explain why he took a step toward Ruby when Josephine walked by. Maybe it was the memory of Josephine standing over her, triumphant. Or the feeling that something about Lester’s well-timed phone call felt wrong, like the scream of a chain saw cutting through a silent forest morning.

Josephine surged close and Ruby backed into Cooper’s steadying arms.

“Now you’re going to get what’s coming to you,” Josephine said, her breath stirring the hair around Ruby’s face, one side of her mouth drooping slightly. “You’ll be punished, just like you should have been all those years ago for hiding the truth about what happened to my girl.”

Ruby’s cheeks flushed and went pale as milk. He tightened his sideways embrace. “Accusations can ruin people, Mrs. Walker.”

She peered at him. “Peter and the Hudsons. Both of them worked together to ruin my life. Lester said it was a conspiracy all along. But no more. Now it’s time to pay.”

He was unsure how to respond as she moved by and passed out of sight into the lobby.

Ruby broke from his grasp. “My family had nothing to do with this,” she said, turning blazing eyes on his.

He felt the flush of anger and pride. “And neither did mine. Feels rotten when someone thinks you’re a liar, doesn’t it?”

He expected an acid response to match his own bitterness. Instead he saw her falter as the barb struck home. For a moment, he wished he could retract the words. No one escaped unscathed from that long-ago moment. No one.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was...”

A shout from the receptionist interrupted his apology. Ruby and Cooper charged through the reception room and out the front door to find Josephine lying on the steps, eyes half-closed, Perry kneeling beside her.

“She collapsed,” Perry said.

The receptionist covered the phone with one hand. “I’ve got an ambulance en route.”

Sheriff Pickford addressed the few passersby who had hastened to help while an officer tended to the fallen woman. “Ambulance is on its way. Let’s just give the lady some privacy.”

“Isn’t that Josephine Walker?” The question came from a whip-thin woman dressed in jeans and a denim jacket. “I heard she found her daughter’s locket in the woods.”

Pickford’s thick brows drew together. “News travels at Mach 2 around here. What of it, Ms. Bradford?”

She flashed a smile. “You can call me Heather, Sheriff.”

“I make it a practice to keep away from a first-name basis with reporters.”

“Freelance writer.” Heather kept the smile.

“Whatever.”

“So it’s true that the locket was found? The one that belonged to the abducted girl?” she pressed.

The ambulance made the turn onto the main road, lights flashing. Cooper thought a look of relief washed over Pickford. “No information now. Priority now is getting emergency medical help to Ms. Walker. I’ll need everyone to step back and let our medics do their jobs.”

Cooper stayed at a distance. Mick and Perry bookended Ruby, standing like protective pillars on either side of her as Josephine was loaded into the ambulance. He wondered what was going through Ruby’s mind.

Would the investigation stall until Josephine was released?

And in the meantime, the locket, the clue to finally clearing Peter’s name, was hidden somewhere, unaccounted for.

Heather was edging her way toward the Hudson family.

Perry immediately steered Ruby to the car and bundled her inside, but before he closed himself in the driver’s seat he cast one look at the approaching reporter and Cooper saw something that surprised him on the older man’s face.

Fear.

THREE

Ruby’s eyes burned as she tried to decipher her miniature writing in the tiny notebook. She should break down and get one of those fancy tablets or iPads for her notes, but the whole notion of trekking around the forest with a computer seemed ridiculous. So she sat in the closet-size office, a converted shed, truth be told, transcribing her notes and typing them into the ancient desktop computer. The space was cramped, to be sure, but the little shed was tucked in a stand of coniferous trees away from the main house, with a view of the soaring mountains behind and sheltered by massive boughs alive with birds and squirrels. The sounds of the forest night shift commenced in earnest as the sun sank behind the mountains, beginning with the Myotis bat that flickered past her window. There was no finer office anywhere on the planet, she was quite sure.

She forced her mind back to the job at hand. Barn Owl pair 0907 and 0665 (Ted and Flossie) have chosen a nesting site in barn on northwest corner of the property. Her fingers paused as she pictured the stunning birds with the heart-shaped feathers framing fiercely intelligent eyes. Pride swelled inside her. It was a huge victory. She could not resist the self-indulgence. Ted had only been released on the sanctuary property three months before, after treatment at the avian hospital for an eye injury resulting from a pellet gun. Ted survived, thrived, found himself a mate and now if all went well, a little fuzzy family would begin their journey in the musty barn. It was another step toward the sanctuary goal of rebuilding a thriving community of wild birds.

She sighed as she tapped in the information, wishing she had someone else to share it with who could appreciate the triumph. Her last “boyfriend,” if he could be called that, stuck around just long enough to land himself a job with the fire service.

I’m just not a bird guy, he’d explained. That was an understatement. He grew increasingly more bored with her daily hikes to every forgotten corner of the sanctuary. And he couldn’t comprehend her sorrow when she discovered a dead red-tailed hawk that must have been shot by a trespasser. How could someone not grieve the sight of an elegant creature massacred in such a way? Feathers broken and bloodied, proud eyes dulled by death. It’s just a bird, Tony had said.

Just a bird. But weren’t the littlest lives supposed to be worthy in God’s eyes?

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.

But Alice had fallen, or been snatched, just a tiny bird with her whole life to live, and God had not so much as lifted a finger. Ruby remembered in vivid detail the day they’d gone out into the woods to play together. She’d been distracted by something, a feather caught in the root of the tree, and scurried to find it. When she turned to show Alice, she realized her playmate had vanished, as if she was a tiny sparrow snatched up by a raptor.

Just a bird.

Just a child from a poor family that never had a chance to fly.

And her abduction had stripped something away from Ruby, too—her innocence, her ability to trust. Truth was, she’d never really shared with Tony the deep river of emotions that trundled along inside her. And at the heart of it, she’d been the tiniest bit relieved when he’d left. She swallowed. Perhaps the abduction also obliterated her ability to love anyone but her family.

“So where were you, God?” she asked the cracked ceiling tiles, “when Alice was taken?”

She looked at the clock again. Ten hours had passed since their meeting with the sheriff, and it was now nearly nine. Almost sundown and no word on Josephine or the investigation.

Had Sheriff Pickford retrieved the locket? Her stomach tensed. Maybe, at long last, they would know what happened to Alice. And what would it mean for Cooper? Exoneration for his brother? Or perhaps it would be the final proof that Peter had indeed been guilty all those long years ago. She pictured Cooper, shoulders braced, mouth set in a firm, determined line. He would be forced to acknowledge the truth. It should thrill her, but she found it only made her stomach knot a little tighter.

Pine needles crunched outside. She froze. Why had she stayed so late in the office? She took her phone out of her pocket. A quick text, and Mick or her father would be there in a flash.

Ruby, you’ve got to stop depending on them to keep you safe. Still, she clutched the phone and crept to the front window. There were so many thick trunks available for hiding places, so many shadows offering dark pools of concealment. She eased aside the worn white fabric that served as a curtain.

Knuckles rapped on the door, and she leaped backward, heart in her throat.

“Ruby?”

With a gusty sigh, she put down the phone and opened the door for Cooper. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Got some info. I should have left it with your brother and dad at the main house but...”

“But you don’t like them.”

“And they don’t like me, which is odd, because I’m a hugely likeable guy.” He offered a grin that set off the sparkle in his eyes. “Your brother has a tendency to put me in a headlock when we share airspace.”

“He’s a little overprotective. Former marine, you know.”

“Yeah. Reassuring to know he’s highly trained in ways to kill me. Anyway, I had a call from Heather Bradford. She wanted to talk about Peter and what happened. An interview is what she was really after, I think.”

A painful fluttering began in Ruby’s stomach. “I see. I heard she’s been working on a story. It’s why she came to Silver Peak, I think. Josephine mentioned something a few weeks ago about Heather, but I thought she was rambling. I think Heather’s been dredging it all up for a ‘twentieth anniversary of the disappearance’ type of story.” It was all flooding in again, still every bit as fresh and raw, as if the decades in between did not matter in the least. “Did you talk to her?”

“No.”

Ruby started. “You didn’t? Why not?”

“Dunno.” He looked away at a lark that flitted in the branches from one twig to the next. A slight smile curled his lips as he contemplated the little bird. “I guess...” He sighed. “I know this situation is hard on everyone involved. I don’t want to do anything careless that will deepen wounds.”

“Pretty mature,” she said.

“Yeah, not so much. Still a work in progress. Ten years ago I would have unleashed some serious venom to anyone who would listen, but these days...” He shook his head. “I need to think and pray about it before I talk to her.”

To think and pray about it. The setting sun darkened his hair and painted the strong planes of his face.

She realized he was staring at her, waiting, perhaps for a response. “That sounds good. Certainly it’s the smart thing to do, to be cautious.” The weight of his green-gold gaze made her breath quicken. Her phone rang, and she snatched it up, gesturing for Cooper to step inside the crowded space as she answered. “Hello?”

“Ruby, I wanted to let you know that Josephine has had a stroke of some kind. She’ll be in the hospital awhile, and she’s unresponsive at the moment,” Pickford told her.

“Will you go find the necklace anyway?” The words tumbled out before she thought them through.

He paused. “I’m going to give it a day. If she isn’t coherent tomorrow, I’ll get a search warrant and take a look.”

“Tomorrow?” Ruby groaned.

“She said her husband was coming back. We’ll keep an eye out and if he arrives, he’ll let us in to look, I’m sure, or hand it over himself.”

“But Sheriff, this is so important and Lester wasn’t, um, stable. He might have been involved, all those years ago.”

“There was never one shred of evidence to make us believe Lester did anything to his daughter.”

“But, if anything happens to that locket...”

His tone hardened into stone. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Ruby. I’m the man in charge here, not the Hudsons.” He sighed. “She’s been through a parent’s worst nightmare, and I know it’s damaged her and Lester. She lost more than anyone, and her wish is to wait for her husband. I’m going to honor that, at least for twenty-four hours. I hope you can live with it.”

It was clear. Whether she could live with it or not, that was the way Sheriff Pickford was going to proceed. She thanked him and disconnected before filling Cooper in. He listened, rolled his wide shoulders and let out a sigh.

“I’m becoming a pro at waiting around. Peter’s been off somewhere. I haven’t even seen him.” She caught the flash of worry in his eyes.

“How long will you stay in town?”

“I’m taking a week of vacation, but I’ll be in the area for a while. Doing some work for the national park.”

“What kind of work?”

“Logging borer beetle damage. I’m a botanist with the Forest Service.”

She giggled.

“Something funny about that?”

She pressed hand to her lips. “I just remember when you were a kid, you picked all kinds of wildflowers even when I ordered you not to.”

He grinned. “I gave you one, didn’t I? When I asked you out on a date.”

“Yes, but I refused to be placated by your paltry blossom.”

“The rest were for my mom.”

“How is your mother?”

“Lives at her sister’s place in New Mexico. Peter stayed with her for a while over the years when he flirted with sobriety. Together we managed to pay for two stints in rehab.” His voice grew soft. “It’s not easy for her to see him like that.”

Ruby felt shamed that she had never taken the time to wonder what had become of Mrs. Stokes after she moved away with Peter and Cooper following Alice’s disappearance. They were the polite neighbors, a single mother with two boys who would wander onto the sanctuary property and explore it every chance they got. Ruby’s father had never shooed them away and sometimes he’d even paid Peter to help out with some brush clearing. She suspected that he understood how hard it was to be a single parent, since he’d walked the same road after he lost his own wife to ovarian cancer when Ruby was a baby.

“Well,” he said, turning to go. “I’d better get back in case my errant brother shows up. May I walk you back to your house?”

She hesitated only a moment. “Yes, thank you.”

He stepped out on the porch and inhaled deeply. “This is my favorite time of day, my brother Peter’s, too.”

The words splintered the fragile pleasantries. Evening rose between them, swallowing up the waning daylight.

* * *

Cooper ground his teeth. Ruby was charming and lovely, but how could he have forgotten for a moment that the woman walking along beside him had accused his brother of child abduction, saddled Peter with an onerous sentence that would weigh down his soul with endless sorrow?

Ruby said Peter was in the woods that day and she saw him there, crouching behind the bushes, watching them. Peter maintained he was not anywhere near the two girls the morning Alice disappeared. So who was telling the truth? A five-year-old girl who had seen Peter many times in those very woods? Or Peter, a fifteen-year-old boy who was supposed to be sweeping floors at the lumber mill but hadn’t shown up for work that day?

Ruby was just a child at the time, like Alice, he reminded himself.

But Peter was just a kid, too.

He slowed his pace and allowed Ruby to catch up while he breathed in the comfort of the forest, letting it soothe the angry thoughts away. Though he was loathe to do it, he forced some conversation to ease the distance he’d created between them. “The Umatilla National Park, where I work when I’m not on loan here, is thinking of thinning a stand of ponderosa pines to open up the canopy a bit. I’ve been doing the botanical surveys.”

Ruby nodded. “Find anything interesting?”

“A new species of wild carrot,” he said, glancing at her sideways. “You actually look interested. Most people put me into the crazy-plant-guy category when I tell them about the carrots.”

She sighed. “I’m in the crazy-bird-gal category so I guess I can sympathize. I wish I could explain it better to folks. It’s just that everything here makes sense, you know? Things live and die, sometimes so quietly we never even know they existed.”

He took her hand when she stumbled over a twisted log crossing the path. Instinct, he told himself, though he could not explain why her touch made his nerves jump. “Maybe that’s why you and I do what we do, right? To take notice. To record that quiet life.”

Her fingers felt very small and cold in his palm.

“I wish someone had recorded what happened to Alice. If only somebody knew.”

He squeezed her hand and watched the last light imprint sparks deep down in her irises. The words flowed out. “I’m thinking it will all come out, maybe soon.”

“Do you believe that?”

He smiled, and found he could answer truthfully. “Yes, I do. Maybe that’s why the locket’s turned up now.”

She gripped his hand with sudden ferocity. “It’s what I want, what I’ve always desperately wanted, but at the same time, it scares me.”

And way deep down, where the roots of his soul were anchored, it scared him also. He started to respond when a squeal caught his attention, the echoing sound of a window closing or a stubborn sliding door being wrenched ajar.

“Up that way,” he pointed. “Isn’t that where the Walkers used to live?”

“Josephine still does.” Yet they both knew Josephine was in the hospital.

He headed up a steep slope where there was barely a trail to be followed. Hardly a challenge for a guy who bushwhacked his way through acres of wilderness on a regular basis. Ruby, he noted, must have done her share of bushwhacking, too, as she stayed at his heels this time until they crested the slope together.

The Walkers’ cabin sat at the bottom, a wood-sided structure with a sagging roof. The yard around the place was home to a car that appeared not to have run in a very long time and a set of tools laced with rust.

A light glowed in the front window, through a gap in the curtains.

“It must be Lester,” Ruby said. “Alice was right, he really is home.”

She started down the uneven path that served as a walkway.

“Is this a good idea?” Cooper asked.

“I just want to ask him if he saw the locket and make sure he knows his wife is in the hospital. He might not have heard about Josephine’s stroke since he doesn’t have a phone.”

Cooper was never uncomfortable to be completely isolated, nor did he fear the darkness or anything in it, but something about the ramshackle house with the harsh light glaring through the curtains rattled him.

They hiked down, and Ruby knocked on the door. When no one answered, she called again. “Mr. Walker? It’s Ruby Hudson. I have some information for you. Can we talk?”

Nothing stirred inside.

“Mr. Walker?” Ruby tried again.

Cooper leaned close and whispered, his lips touching the tender softness of her earlobe. “He doesn’t want to talk to us. Let’s go.”

She shivered, perhaps from his whisper or the gathering cool of the evening, and followed him away. A moment later, they heard the squeal of the back sliding door.

Ruby set off in a jog. “I’ve got to tell him that locket has to go to the police.”

“No,” he called, but she trotted down the slope and disappeared through the densely clustered shrubs.

He followed after her, brushing aside the branches that obstructed his path. She stood, hands on hips, in the grass that had overtaken a broken birdbath filled with green water. “Where did he go?”

The sliding door was closed and Cooper peered into the darkened living room. “Seems like he could have just stayed inside and ignored us. No real reason to...” He felt a stirring in the air, a strange electricity that made him spin around.

Ruby stared at him with eyes round and terrified. A hooded figure wearing a bulky jacket embraced her from behind, one wiry arm around her shoulders and the other with a box cutter pressed to her neck, wicked steel against her creamy white throat.

FOUR

Ruby clung to the arm that circled her neck, feeling the hard muscles taut with anger and the edge of the blade pressing her windpipe. A man? A woman?

“Why are you here?” a voice whispered in her ear.

“I’m...” Ruby was too scared to push out any more words. She swallowed, trying again when Cooper stepped closer, palms up in a placating gesture. “Sorry if we scared you. We don’t want to cause trouble. Just looking for Lester Walker. Is that you?”

A grunt.

Cooper nodded. “Okay. Your wife is in the hospital right now. We were coming to give you the message.” He pointed to Ruby. “She was going to tell you. How about you let her go now?”

“How about,” her attacker snarled, breath hot on her neck, “I cut her throat?”

Cooper moved closer, his tone harder now. “You don’t want to do that. I understand you’re upset. Our fault for trespassing. We’ll take you to Josephine. No reason to hurt Ruby.”

The arm tightened around Ruby’s throat. “I think there’s every reason.”

“Lester, please. I know you suffered a terrible loss, but there’s new evidence. This time we found her locket.”

“Police and investigators can make evidence say whatever they want.”

The stranger’s grip tightened. Ruby struggled to breathe.

Everything happened in a blur. Cooper leaped forward. Lester loosened his hold a fraction, and Ruby stomped down hard on a foot. With a loud groan, Ruby was shoved forward into Cooper’s chest and they went over backward onto the ground. She could hear Lester running away.

Ruby felt the breath explode out of Cooper as her elbow drove into his stomach. He rolled away and was on his feet in one fluid movement.

“No, Cooper. Don’t go after him,” she yelled, shoving the hair from her face and trying to scramble to her feet. By the time she did, Cooper was already gone, disappeared into the dark stand of firs.

She listened, hearing nothing but the wild beating of her own heart as it knocked into her ribs. A cold wind seemed to reach through her skin and chill her from the inside out. With shaking fingers, she picked up her cell phone. No signal. It shouldn’t have surprised her. She moved to a spot farther away from the trees and managed to get a few bars and call 911.

When the dispatcher answered, she tried to corral her stampeding thoughts. “This is Ruby Hudson. A man, I think it was Lester Walker, attacked me with a knife on his property and...and Cooper Stokes took off after him.”

No she wasn’t hurt.

Yes, she was safe at the moment.

But what about Cooper?

She should go after him, but her brother would say summoning help was the most important task. Every minute wasted worsened the disaster.

Like every minute she’d spent calling for Alice that long-ago afternoon in the dark woods before she’d raced home to tell her family. Panic rose inside and she forced herself to talk slowly, though she wanted nothing more than to click off the phone and sprint after Cooper.

When she was through the litany of questions, she could stand no more. After promising the dispatcher she would head back to her house and wait for an officer, she pocketed the phone and made for the break in the trees. The sky was near black and the interlaced branches formed a living ceiling that crowded out the starlight. Pine needles cushioned her steps. She bit back a scream as a figure stepped through a gap in the branches. Cooper.

“It’s you,” she said, stupidly.

He did not seem injured, just winded. “Whoever that was, knows the woods better than I do. Lost me easily when the sun set. Runs like a deer.”

“It had to have been Lester.” Ruby put her hands on her hips. “Why did you do that? Run after him when he was obviously disturbed? That was crazy.”

Cooper blinked. “He held a blade to your throat.”

“And getting yourself stabbed would have erased that somehow?”

He moved close, his eyes gleaming silver in the gloaming. “Blade,” he repeated slowly, “to your throat.”

The fire in his eyes awakened a strange warmth in her body. Blood pounded through her veins, sending tingles through her stomach. “Misplaced gallantry.” Gallantry she did not deserve nor want.

“Not gallantry.” His shadow mingled with hers. “Justice.”

“There isn’t any justice, Cooper.” Her voice sounded so breathy and sad, she almost didn’t recognize it. “Haven’t you learned that by now?”

“Sometimes there is, Ruby, but it’s a long time in coming.” He reached out, and she held her breath as he plucked a twig from her hair and sent it floating to the ground.

Tears crowded her eyes. “After what happened to Alice and Peter, you should know better.”

“Whoever took Alice will get his punishment eventually. I’m just hoping I can do my bit to set things right now. If that means I have to step up and chase a crazy old guy now and then, I’m game for the challenge.”

He reached for her and his palms grazed her shoulders so tenderly, so tentatively, it weakened her.

“Cooper,” she breathed. “You scared me.”

“I’m honored that you care.” He trailed his fingers through her hair.

“I don’t...” She wanted to push closer, to keep him close, to trust him. Panic prickled her skin. She could not allow the strange thud of weakness to undo her. She jerked away. “What if you learn it was your brother who took Alice?”

He stiffened. “I won’t, because he didn’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know my brother like you know yours.”

Pine needles drifted in the breeze, coming to rest at her feet. She was suddenly bone weary. “Sheriff’s people are going to meet me back at the house. You’d better come, too.”

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “One thing.” He tipped her chin back and leaned close.

Her eyes closed as his breath played over her neck. “Wanted to be sure he didn’t cut you.”

“I’m okay,” she said, but she could feel her knees trembling. From his touch? Or the aftermath of Lester’s rage? She was not sure as they picked their way through the trees.

* * *

Cooper answered all Sheriff Pickford’s questions as did Ruby until it was nearly ten o’clock and he could no longer suppress a yawn. Pickford promised to have his people find Lester Walker and bring him in.

“He’ll come back to the house sooner or later and we’ll get him. In the meantime, we’ll search the house for the locket.” Pickford eased his bulk out of the kitchen chair. “Need a ride back to your cabin, Cooper?”

“No, thanks. I’ll walk.”

Ruby shot him a look. “What if Lester is still out there and he finds you?”

“I’ll win him over with my easygoing charm.” Cooper enjoyed her exasperated eye roll.

“He has a knife.”

“A box cutter, actually,” Cooper said, “and I’m scrappy. I’m pretty sure I can take him.”

That elicited a laugh from Mick. “You would have made a good marine with that attitude.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but at least Mick didn’t look murderous. Then again, why should he care? Mick would be thrilled to pin Alice’s disappearance on Peter. Not gonna happen, Hudsons.

Cooper watched Perry, who was silently sipping a cup of coffee. He had tracked every syllable of the police questioning without comment. Now his eyes shifted in thought. When he felt Cooper’s gaze on him, he offered a small smile.

“Mr. Hudson, do you know something about Lester Walker?”

Perry regarded Cooper calmly. “If I knew anything that would be of help, I would mention it.”

Pickford looked up from his notebook, eyes narrowed. “How about sharing everything, and I’ll decide if it would be helpful.”

Perry’s voice did not increase in volume, but it seemed to Cooper that the tension kicked up a notch. “My daughter was attacked, Sheriff. I’ve got every reason to cooperate.” He smiled. “No hidden secrets here. You know what I know.”

Pickford did not look convinced. Cooper wasn’t either. He wanted to push harder, to get past the sanctimonious surface of this perfect family patriarch. Instead, he excused himself, suddenly desperate for the solace of the forest. Ruby watched from the door as he left, so he gave her a wink and a jaunty wave. Mick put an arm on her shoulder and guided her back into the house. Keep away from Cooper and his brother, the gesture said. They’re bad people.

The injustice of it burned in him afresh. It had been a mistake to return to Silver Peak to check on the brother who he’d come to learn could not be saved by fraternal love. But that stubborn something rumbled inside him, that raw aching need to believe that maybe this time, unlike the hundred times before, would be the moment when Peter really did beat his addiction once and for all and grab hold of the life he had left.

But here in this small town would be the hardest place in the universe for Peter to face down the shadows of his past now that Alice Walker’s case had been reopened. Then again, maybe it was the only place where he would truly know he’d beaten back the darkness.

Cooper let himself into the dusty cabin. He called for his brother and once again received no reply. The night chill had crept in. The place offered only a stone fireplace for warmth and it was late to start a fire, but he trudged out to the woodpile anyway, the feverish energy inside his body telling him there would be no sleep forthcoming. Might as well warm up the place. Besides, the cramped space aggravated his claustrophobia.

There was no kindling that he could find, so he put the axe to use and split more logs than he could possibly need into small pieces. It felt good to swing the heavy blade. The motion soothed him, the way the axe reduced the mammoth mound of wood into manageable units. With an armful of kindling and a couple of gnarled logs, he headed back, picking his way along the moonlit path that he and his father had graveled over one unusually warm Oregon summer. He’d much rather have been out exploring the woods or eating ice cream in town, but as his father said, “Take care of family first.”

He shot a look at the vast dome of sky above him. I’m trying, Dad.

Each crunch of the gravel underfoot echoed with his father’s admonition and he wondered for the millionth time if he had done enough to care for Peter. Or, as he’d learned over the years, had he done too much? Encouragement and enabling were perilously close.

He shifted the wood in his arms to free up a hand to shove the door open. He was startled to find it already was. Had he left it ajar and the wind took it? Or could it be his prodigal brother who’d finally seen fit to return?

Could be either, but there was also Lester Walker to consider. Cooper eased the pile of wood down on the spongy ground and extracted one slender log from the jumble. Club-size, about eighteen inches long. Enough to protect himself against a box cutter if the easygoing-charm thing didn’t work out.

He pushed the door open with a foot. The interior was dark except for the light he’d left on in the kitchen. He eased inside.

“Peter?”

A figure emerged from the kitchen.

“Couldn’t have been more wrong,” he muttered, as the cabin lights snapped on and dazzled his vision.

FIVE

“You can put down the log,” a woman said with a smile. She wore a long jacket, her auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Heather Bradford.”

He recognized her as the reporter outside the police station after Josephine had her stroke. “You’re just here to burgle the place?”

A small, clean-shaven man with a thatch of dark hair stepped out of the kitchen. He was trim, in good shape, with the muscled body of a long-distance runner. “She didn’t break in. The door was open.”

“I forgot how relaxed the visiting policies are here in Oregon. If the door’s open, just invite yourself in and set a spell.” Cooper tossed the log he was holding into the fireplace. “Mind telling me who you are?”

“Hank Bradford, Heather’s father. I try to accompany her on these investigative missions. Can’t be too careful.” His eyes swept over Cooper. “Never know about folks.”

“Says the man standing in my cabin uninvited.”

“Sorry about that,” Heather said. “It was my idea to come. I knew you were staying with Peter for a while. You refused to talk to me via the phone. Thought I might persuade you in person.”

“How exactly did you know I was staying with Peter?”

“You two don’t talk much, I guess,” Heather said, with a sideways grin. “Peter and I connected a few months back. We’re friends, close friends. He works for my Dad.”

“I own a small café in Pine Cliffs,” Hank offered. Breakfast and lunch. Everything made from scratch and a new menu every day. Heather convinced me to hire Peter.”

“And why would you do that, exactly?” Cooper demanded. “Hire my brother, I mean?”

“I was a manager at the Spruce Lodge here in town years ago when you two were kids. Peter washed dishes there in the summers, so we knew each other.”

Cooper finally remembered.

Hank looked away for a moment before finishing. “Frankly, I always felt kind of sorry for Peter, being accused of that terrible crime. He was just a kid himself. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You were here when Alice was abducted?”

“Close. Had a small place couple towns over in the woods. Real quite and no neighbors. I ran the breakfast service for the Lodge. I was part of the search party that looked for Alice.”

“So you believe my brother is innocent?”

“Of course we do,” Heather answered.

Cooper thought he caught a quick flash of emotion in Hank’s eyes. He believed in Peter enough to give him a job, but Hank didn’t want his daughter making any kind of deep connection with Peter. Charity was one thing, watching your daughter seek out an alcoholic formerly accused of kidnapping was another. Frankly, Cooper would probably feel the same way if he were Hank.

“Heather, you’re not here as a friend. You’re looking to dig up a story, but that story brings my brother nothing but pain.”

She put her hands in her pockets. “Maybe things have changed. Maybe now the new developments will bring him vindication.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s your reason for digging into this, is it?”

She perched on the arm of the worn sofa. “Well yes, I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be a great story to tell and help my career along. It’s been on my back burner for a while but now that it’s almost the twenty-year anniversary...”

Cooper felt sickened. As if it was some sort of event that should be trotted out to sell papers.

Hank put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s my fault. After I moved away, it upset Heather’s mother to hear about it so I didn’t say much. Every so often the police would have a stab at solving it again and one time they came to interview me. She overheard. I told them I’d always thought Peter got the short end of the stick.”

“So who do you believe did it?”

He and Heather exchanged a look.

Heather nodded at her father.

“Hudsons are covering up the truth,” Hank said. “I’ve always thought so.”

Heather nodded. “And I’m going to prove it, now that the locket’s been found.”

Cooper’s mind raced. Peter was innocent, he knew it in his bones. But the Hudsons guilty of hiding the truth? He didn’t believe it, yet there was the inexplicable tension between Pickford and the senior Hudson. And Mick had been questioned by the police about Alice’s disappearance, too. Was it possible?

“You don’t think it might have been Lester Walker?” Peter said.

Hank shrugged. “Dunno, but they checked him out thoroughly. He was buying some parts for his truck in Forestville when it happened, I think I remember. He loved his kid, from what I hear.”

“Where is Peter now?”

“At the café,” Heather said. “He’s worked some really long shifts and volunteered for extra hours. We have a small room in the back with a cot and he crashes there sometimes. He said he would head home after he got some shut-eye.”

Relief washed through him. It was a lot better than the scenarios he’d been cooking up in his mind. He wanted them to depart, to leave him in peace so he could crank up the jazz music, pace the cabin floor all night. He caught Heather’s eye and held it. “Look, I’ll think about it and give you a call, but I’m going to ask you flat out to leave Peter alone about this situation. You know he’s an alcoholic; I don’t want his sobriety threatened.”

Heather stood and raised her chin. “If I’m right, the truth will finally exonerate him. He will be able to look everyone in this town right in the eye and say, ‘You were wrong about me.’ That’s the one thing he’s craved all these years, isn’t it?”

Cooper didn’t answer.

She locked eyes on his. “He’s yearned for the truth to come out, that he’s not a child abductor or worse, and he’s tried to drown that yearning in booze.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Yeah? Well I think the truth will set Peter free. Are you prepared to stand in the way of that?”

He stared into the flat blue of her eyes. Was he? Was protecting his brother also keeping the truth about Alice shrouded in darkness?

“I’d like you to leave now,” he said. “Both of you.”

She nodded. “All right, but I’ll be back.”

He waited until they were gone before he set a match to the dry wood and blew on the tiny flame until the wood caught. The warmth seemed infinitesimal to dispel the cold that gripped him.

Jazz. He needed some jazz. Thinking music. He thumbed through his iPod to find some Charlie Parker tunes that would sooth him into a place where he could make some decisions.

* * *

It was a good two hours later when the door swung open to admit his brother.

“Coop,” Peter said, arms full of paper bags. “I’m home.”

Cooper performed the first action automatically, scanning his brother’s face, checking for the slack look, the bleary eyes, the aroma of alcohol as his brother put down the bags and grabbed him in a bear hug. When there were no indications that Peter had been drinking, Cooper felt the wash of guilt for his lack of trust. Would it always be like that? Distrust, guilt, disappointment? False hope? A real chance of healing? He let it go and returned his brother’s embrace.

“I was expecting you yesterday.”

Peter nodded, the dark blond hair grown long enough to touch his shoulders, deep creases on his tanned face. “Been working extra shifts at the café. Got dishpan hands, but earned some extra cash to get my car some new tires.”

“I got a visit from Heather. She told me you were working at her dad’s café.”

“Yeah. Cool that he gave me a job. Don’t exactly have much to offer in the way of work history on a resume.”

“Peter, we need to talk.”

“Right,” his brother said, heading into the kitchen. “Can I cook while we talk? I’m starving.”

Cooper watched as Peter moved around the kitchen. He was thin, maybe a bit too thin, but his hands were steady and sure as he minced garlic and chopped herbs to sprinkle on a pair of pork chops he’d fished out of the bag. Peter was an excellent cook, no doubt about that. “This place is a wreck, Coop.” He heated olive oil and slid the meat into a pan. “If you’re gonna stay with me, you’ll have to learn to clean up after yourself.”

Cooper was about to fire off a retort when he saw the grin. Typical Peter. The jokester. But the hunted look he’d seen in the past on his brother’s face was no joke. He was relieved there was no sign of it now.

“Something has come up.”

“Heard a few things. Why don’t you tell me what you’re worrying about? You get this crinkle between your eyebrows when you’re stewing and it’s gonna ruin your handsome baby face.”

“It’s coming up again, what happened to Alice all those years ago. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”

Peter hesitated for a moment, staring into the sizzling pan. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Need to work. Can’t stay with Mom, she’s barely making it with the money you send her, and I know when I’m there she feels like she has to take care of me.”

A thrill went through him at the unselfish words. They’re just words, Coop. He’s got to walk the walk, not just talk about it. Cooper took a deep breath. “Ruby Hudson found Alice Walker’s locket hanging in a tree.”

Peter still did not look at Cooper. “I heard.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. It means they can find the guy who snatched her. That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

The pop of oil startled Cooper, but Peter didn’t flinch.

“Yes, but it’s going to bring up a lot of bad blood.”

“I’m tougher than I was when I was a teen, Coop.”

Cooper waited. His brother had something to say.

Peter slowly turned to face him. “Are you worried that I’ll be proven innocent?” Another hiss and pop from the hot oil. “Or guilty?”

Cooper gaped. “You’re a piece of work to say that after I’ve stood by you since the moment it happened. I know you’ll be proven innocent.”

“You’re a better brother than I deserve.”

Something flickered across Peter’s face for a split second. In that tiny increment of time, Cooper’s soul quaked. “Peter, I know you didn’t do anything to Alice Walker and you’ve told the police everything about that day.”

Peter looked away, fussing over the dinner.

Peter was innocent.

Wasn’t he?

* * *

Ruby sat bolt upright in bed. No sunlight peeked through a gap in the curtains yet. The thought that had niggled at her since she found the locket burst into her consciousness with crystal clarity. The clock read four-thirty. Her brother and father were still asleep, but she could not stow the idea churning through her mind a moment longer.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a thick sweater that had been a gift from Molly Pickford on Ruby’s high school graduation day, Ruby tiptoed into the kitchen, filled her thermos with coffee, snatched up her cell phone and tossed them both into a backpack before padding outside. She retrieved her hiking boots from the porch and laced them on. A thrill of fear rippled through her. Lester, if it really was him, was still at large somewhere, but she did not think he would brave the sanctuary property, and definitely not with the police on the lookout for him.

Still, anxiety lingered in her veins, but she forced herself into action anyway. Her whole life had been steeped in fear that colored and shadowed every moment since Alice disappeared, and she was sick of it. Finally, it seemed, there was a chance to shed some light in that darkness, and she would not let the precious moment pass. She’d have to be certain before she told anyone else.

Jacket zipped and cell phone clutched in her hand, she headed out. The sky was unclouded, which meant precisely nothing on the southern coast of Oregon. A lovely morning could morph into a rainy afternoon. Overhead the sounds of rustling birds reminded her that life was burgeoning again as spring meant babies for many species. Her precious bald eagles were tending to their young eaglets, the awkward fuzzy creatures not yet ready to fly. They needed constant attention, which they received from both the mother and father.

An image of her mother rose in her mind, a photo she’d seen of an elegantly dressed, smiling woman holding court at a Hudson family Christmas party in their neat San Francisco Victorian. Ruby had no memories of her mother that weren’t secondhand stories told by her father or Mick. As a young child, she’d thought about those anecdotes, embroidered them in her mind, hoping to embed them so deep they would somehow become her own, but they hadn’t. Ruby had no imprint of her mother, like a bird abandoned just after hatching. If things had been different, and her mother had not succumbed to the cancer, would she have let Ruby go into the woods that day with Alice? Or might they never have come to Oregon at all, staying in San Francisco, amid the forest of eclectic buildings instead of the whispering pines?

She had almost reached the tree when she heard footsteps running through the underbrush, moving fast, coming close. She slipped behind a screen of bushes, heart thudding. Thoughts of Josephine’s knife slicing into her flesh and Lester’s hot breath against her throat ratcheted her pulse even faster.

Stay hidden. You’re safe.

Not in these woods, her mind taunted.

Not anywhere.

Cooper burst into view, his sweatshirt damp with perspiration, moving fast and fluid as he churned along the path. The intensity in his face brought her to her feet, and before she thought it through she’d stepped out of her concealment.

He jerked to a stop, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his face. “Ruby,” he panted. “What are you doing out here at this hour?”

She wished now she’d stayed hidden. “I was, uh, checking on something. Do you always run before sunup?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Insomniac. It’s either run or watch countless hours of NBA basketball reruns.” He paused. “My brother’s home.”

“Oh. I’m glad he made it.” The silence grew awkward between them. She wished he would say goodbye and move on, leave her to her mission. He didn’t, staying there with hands to his narrow waist, regarding her without his usual good-natured smile, which made her wonder.

“I heard from the sheriff that there was no sign of the locket at the Walker’s house.”

“Hmmm. That’s a setback. So what are you checking out then?”

She sighed. No point in holding back. “I just wanted to see if my memory was accurate.” The pine needles under the tree were thick and fragrant as she knelt and sifted her fingers through the detritus.

He took a knee next to her, uncomfortably close, heat emanating from his body. He didn’t say anything, which made her feel a pressing need to fill the silence.

“When I found it, the necklace I mean, some debris from the nest fell down. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. The nest has been vacant for years. As the trees grew up around this one, it obscured the view, you see, and eagles don’t like to have their view obstructed so they found another location. The tree sort of became invisible until the others around it were cleared.”

He let her babble, crouched down, one arm resting on his muscular thigh. When she ran out of breath, he nodded. “So what are we looking for?”

“This,” she said, snatching up the fragment and holding it up to the light.

He squinted. “Looks like part of a fish backbone.”

“It is. Amazing that it’s still intact, but it was tucked between the twigs, which sheltered it from the elements, I think. The rest just sort of disintegrated. There are really only a few vertebrae left.”

“You’re the bird expert and all, I’m just a plant guy, but isn’t it pretty common to find fish remnants in an eagle’s nest? They’re really into seafood, right?”

She smiled. “Sure, but it got me to thinking about how the locket got up into the tree. It couldn’t have been carried by the wind and eagles aren’t like magpies that collect every shiny thing they see, so how did it get in the nest? It’s possible it was tangled in a branch that one of them brought to the nest, I suppose, but I came up with this crazy notion that it got here...”

His eyebrows shot up. “Via the fish.”

“Exactly.” She was pleased that she did not see disbelief in his look. “The eagle carried the fish up here and the necklace was inside the fish’s stomach.”

He laughed. “I believe it. My brother and I once caught a salmon with a watch in its stomach. Fish gobble first and think about it later.”

“Right. When the eagle tore away the flesh, the locket fell out and got caught in the branches.”

“Which means,” he said, standing and offering her a hand, helping her to her feet, “that someone chucked the necklace in the lake to get rid of it, but your eagle friend brought it back here.”

“Ironic, don’t you think?”

“Amazing, is more like it. After twenty years, long after the fish and eagle are gone, Ruby Hudson happens along and finds it. What a break.”

She winced. “I don’t believe in breaks anymore.”

He brushed pine needles off of his knees. “I do.” His smile faltered. “And I wouldn’t say no to one that helped solve Alice’s disappearance.”

“What did Peter have to say about the locket?”

“Not much.” His mouth tightened. “He was exhausted so I didn’t get a chance to tell him about Lester. He’s been working hard.”

Something in his voice was uncertain, wary perhaps?

Cooper straightened. “I’ll go change and fill him in. Then we can head out.”

“Head out?”

“Are you a runner?”

“Not unless something’s on fire.”

He grinned. “Okay. I’ll hold myself back to a brisk walk. Let’s go. I need to get out of these sweaty clothes before we leave.” He charged off.

“Leave for where?” she called, scrambling to catch up with his long-legged strides.

“You’re planning on going to the lake, aren’t you?”

How had he known that was her plan? To go to the lake, by herself.

“There’s no point, really. After twenty years there is nothing left there that will show us what happened to Alice.”

“Well, we just figured out whoever had her locket was probably there twenty years ago, and that’s more than we’ve known until this moment. Gotta go and see if we can figure out anything, right? Reconstruct the scene? Make like detectives?”

“Okay,” she said, weakly, mulling in her mind how her plan had suddenly come to include Cooper. “But it’s really going to be a waste of time. I can go by myself, no need for you to...”

Cooper disappeared around a bend in the path, leaving her talking to herself.

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