Rae Cavanaugh would do anything to find her kin.

Even join forces with Tom Brannon.

The disappearance of Rae Cavanaugh’s sister rocked the community of Echo Lake. So when Rae’s niece mysteriously goes missing fifteen years later, county sheriff Tom Brannon is determined to find her. But as the electricity between the two sparks, Rae soon discovers—despite her misgivings—that Tom is the only one she can trust…

AMANDA STEVENS is an award-winning author of over fifty novels, including the modern gothic series The Graveyard Queen. Her books have been described as eerie and atmospheric, and “a new take on the classic ghost story.” Born and raised in the rural South, she now resides in Houston, Texas, where she enjoys binge-watching, bike riding and the occasional margarita.

Also by Amanda Stevens

Criminal Behaviour

Incriminating Evidence

Killer Investigation

Pine Lake

Whispering Springs

Bishop’s Rock (ebook novella)

The Restorer

The Kingdom

The Prophet

The Visitor

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Without a Trace

Amanda Stevens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90535-4

WITHOUT A TRACE

© 2020 Marilyn Medlock Amann

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Publisher

Chapter One

On the night of the disappearances, a blood moon had hovered over the piney woods in East Texas. The old-timers called it an omen. Tom Brannon had considered it just plain bad luck. He’d forgotten his flashlight when he rushed out of the house and the lunar eclipse provided weak illumination as he’d traipsed along the banks of the lake, hoping against hope that by the time he got back home, he’d find the girls safe and sound in his sister’s bedroom.

Fifteen years had passed since that fateful night, but Tom still got a chill when the moon turned ruddy and a pine-scented breeze blew in from the lake. He stood outside the sheriff’s station gazing up at the sky, telling himself to get back to work and forget about that moon. He had more important things to worry about at the moment, like budget cuts and rising crime rates, not to mention the mountain of complaints that seemed to grow exponentially higher with each passing day. On and on it went. The job of a rural county sheriff never ended.

He thought about his sister, Ellie, out there alone on Echo Lake. Miles from town. Miles from anyone. He’d asked her once if she ever got lonely, but she’d scoffed at the notion, insisting that the isolation kept her sane. Besides, it was only a twenty-minute drive into town, where she could find all the company she wanted. She seemed content these days, but Tom had to wonder if the nightmares ever came back. If she hid under the bed or at the back of her closet until the monsters went away. He didn’t ask. He and his sister were close, but there were things they didn’t talk about. Of the three girls who had entered the old hospital ruins on the night of the blood moon, Ellie was the only one who had come out whole. Survivor’s guilt could be a powerful thing. Tom understood only too well.

Maybe it was the moon or maybe he was being overly protective, but he felt the need to check in with her tonight, hear her voice to calm his disquiet. He should have called earlier. She’d already be on the air by this time. She produced and hosted a syndicated radio program called Midnight on Echo Lake, which she broadcast from a small studio behind her house. She wouldn’t answer her cell right now, but he could call in to the program. Talk about space aliens or the Bigfoot creature that some of the locals claimed to have seen in the woods near the lake. She’d get a kick out of that, though she’d later scold him for mocking her callers.

Things happen that can’t be explained, she would tell him. People need someone they can talk to about their experiences without fear of ridicule.

Yeah, and some people are just plain nuts, Tom would retort.

Maybe he was one of them. He couldn’t seem to shake the uneasiness that had gripped him all evening. He didn’t believe in premonitions, but he knew enough to pay attention to his instincts. Something was brewing. He could feel it in the wind. He hoped it was nothing more than a summer storm.

“Evening, Sheriff.”

He turned to find his newest recruit striding across the parking lot toward him. He checked his watch out of habit. The department ran on a six, two and ten schedule. Tom had been there since six that morning. He’d worked straight through two watches.

“You’re early,” he noted. “That’s a good habit to get into.”

“Yes, sir,” the young officer replied with a solemn nod. A recent graduate of the East Texas Police Academy, Billy Navarro was a young, eager rookie who reminded Tom a bit of himself ten years ago. His father had been winding down his nearly thirty-year career as the Nance County sheriff when Tom had come on board. He’d served under his dad for only a year before a heart attack had claimed Porter Brannon in his sleep. Tom had then served under his father’s replacement for another nine years, going from patrolman to criminal investigator to the deputy sheriff in less than a decade before running for office two years ago.

The campaign had gotten nasty and personal, fueled by a hostile opponent and an onslaught of negative commentary from the editorial pages of the Echo Lake Star. Everything from Tom’s age to his integrity had been called into question, and there had been times when he wondered why he had ever thought it a good idea to try to follow in his father’s footsteps. In the end, he’d won in a near landslide, no doubt a bitter pill to swallow for the Cavanaugh clan, who had spearheaded the campaign against him. He suspected the animosity between the two families would only worsen as the next election approached.

“Beware the blood moon,” Billy muttered beside him.

Tom slanted him a frowning glance. “What did you say?”

“That’s what my grandmother told me before I left the house tonight.” He shifted uneasily. “What kind of goodbye is that for a guy going out on patrol?”

“It’s just an old wives’ tale. Keep your eyes open and your mind on the job. You’ll be fine.”

Tom would never point out to a rookie that patrolling the town of Belle Pointe and the outlying country roads was hardly the same as taking on the mean streets of a crime-ridden city. He wanted Billy aware and on guard. Nance County was rural, but their home turf had more than its fair share of drug-related crime. Meth dealers had taken to scoping out abandoned houses in the country where they could cook their product in mass quantities. Then they used the nearby interstate to transport the drugs to points north and south. Big business. Big money. Synthetic weed was becoming a problem, too, along with fentanyl and the old standbys of crack cocaine and heroin.

Beside him, Billy searched the sky. “I know it’s just a superstition, but there’s something in the air tonight. Can you feel it?”

Yes, he felt it, but Tom didn’t want to spook the rookie any more than he already seemed to be. He shrugged off his foreboding as he turned to go back inside. “Static electricity,” he said. “Storm front moving in.”

“There’s not a cloud in the sky,” Billy said.

“Not yet,” Tom allowed. “Who’s riding with you tonight?”

“Naomi Clutter.”

“Tough as nails. Nobody better in three counties. You run into trouble, she’ll have your back. You just make sure you have hers.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom went back inside and crossed the nearly empty squad room to his glassed-in office at the front of the building. Long windows looked out on the street. He kept the blinds open so that he could see all around him, both within and without. The space hadn’t changed much since his dad’s time. The desk was the same. The vinyl chairs that faced him had been there for decades. Even the pictures and citations on the walls brought back memories. Tom had been meaning to change things up, bring in a few personal touches, but he never seemed to have the time. Never enough time for anything these days. He couldn’t remember when he’d last asked a woman to dinner or a movie. He lived in town with neighbors all around him and yet in recent months he’d become as isolated as his sister.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and then his temples. A headache nagged and exhaustion had set in, but paperwork kept him chained to his desk. Settling in with a fresh cup of coffee, he opened the latest budget report. The hours passed by quietly. He didn’t take a break until right around midnight when he got up to stretch his legs.

When the call came in about the missing girl, he was standing at the window staring up at the moon.

RAE CAVANAUGH FINISHED loading the dishwasher and then wiped down the counters and set the timer on the coffee maker. She hated doing kitchen chores so late, but she’d fallen asleep after dinner in front of the TV. The house was so quiet and peaceful tonight. A welcome respite. She’d been burning the candle at both ends for as long as she could remember. A little downtime was just what she’d needed.

Her niece, Sophie, had roused her when she came in a few minutes ago. The girl had muttered a good-night and then gone straight upstairs to her room. Normally, music would be blasting through her closed door, but Sophie had seemed a bit subdued. Maybe she was coming down with something. Or maybe she’d had a fight with her boyfriend. Hard to tell with a sullen teenager.

Rae wondered if she should go up and try to talk to her, but she discarded the notion almost immediately. One, she was too tired to cope with the girl’s moods, and two, she wanted to give Sophie her space. Wasn’t that the whole point of this prolonged visit? To allow Sophie and her parents a much-needed breather?

Rae knew things must have gotten bad at her brother’s house if he’d come to her for help. At his wit’s end, he’d said. She’d never known Jackson to admit defeat, let alone to her. They’d been in bitter competition with one another since childhood. It didn’t help that she’d always been their dad’s favorite, but West Cavanaugh’s partiality toward his daughter hadn’t kept him from handing over the reins of Cavanaugh Industries to his only son. Rae was the chief financial officer—a glorified bookkeeper, she sometimes thought. Between the job and looking after their father, she had her hands full. And now Sophie. Poor kid. None of this was her fault. Rae blamed her brother and sister-in-law for letting things get so out of control. They’d lavished everything but attention on the girl without bothering to set boundaries. Now they were at loggerheads, with Sophie pushing for more independence and Jackson realizing a little too late that his princess might be headed for trouble.

Rae poured herself a glass of wine and took it out to the backyard, but she left the drink untouched as she gazed up at the moon. What a strange night. She felt unaccountably uneasy, and it wasn’t just the argument she’d had earlier with Jackson or the troubling discrepancies she’d found in the financials. Or even the lawsuit that had been brought against Cavanaugh Industries by a neighboring rancher. That would all be sorted out soon enough.

Nothing Rae could do about any of it tonight. Her father would handle the lawsuit. He had a way of coming out of these things smelling like a rose. He and Jackson had spent untold hours sequestered with their corporate attorneys, discussing possible witnesses and devising strategy. Rae, of course, had been kept out of the loop, which suited her fine. Plausible deniability in case things went south.

She glanced up at her niece’s window. The lights were out but she could see a muted glow from the laptop screen. Time for her to turn in as well, Rae decided. She carried the glass back into the kitchen and poured the wine down the drain before taking one last look at the eclipse through the window. Then, turning off the lights, she went upstairs, pausing on the landing to listen for any sign of life from Sophie’s room. She could hear music playing, softly this time, and the murmur of Sophie’s voice as she talked to someone on her cell. Rae didn’t bother knocking or calling out. Let the girl have her privacy.

In her own room, Rae collapsed on top of the bed fully dressed and threw an arm over her eyes. She’d get up in a minute, wash her face and brush her teeth, but right now she just wanted to drift. Forget about Sophie down the hallway and her brother off on a deep-sea fishing trip with his buddies. His wife, Lauren, had gone down to New Orleans to visit friends. Now that they didn’t have to worry about their daughter, they were footloose and fancy-free. Rae tried not to begrudge them a carefree weekend. She tried not to condemn their selfishness and poor parenting skills. God knows after Mother died, I certainly failed Riley.

Beautiful, smart, tenderhearted Riley. Rae’s younger sister by two years. The girl who had entered the old hospital ruins on that fateful night fifteen years ago and had never been seen or heard from again.

Riley and her best friend, Jenna Malloy, had spent the night at Ellie Brannon’s house. The parents had been called away on an emergency and Tom had been left in charge. He’d been sixteen when it happened. Same age as Rae. Old enough to know that you didn’t go out partying when you were supposed to be minding the store. Never mind that the girls had been fourteen, also old enough to know better. Tom had been the one left in charge. He should have kept them safe.

Over the years, Rae had come to accept that her feelings toward Tom Brannon were at best irrational and at worst malicious, but old grudges never really died. They just crawled off into some back corner of the mind and waited.

She rolled over in bed, hugging her pillow as she stared out the window. She could see the moon through the pine trees. A blood moon, just as it had been on that night fifteen years ago. Rae wouldn’t think about that now. She wouldn’t think about her sister, Riley, and how much she still missed her. How much she would always miss her.

But it was Riley’s smiling face she saw when she closed her eyes. It was Riley’s anguished cry for help that echoed in her dreams when she finally fell asleep.

SOPHIE WAS TEMPTED to use the flashlight app on her phone, but there were houses on the lake and she didn’t want to attract attention. The moon was up, dulled by a lunar eclipse, according to her science teacher. Sophie didn’t much care about the reason. She just wished she could see where she was going as she made her way along the bank toward the Ruins, a hollowed-out shell of a building that had once housed a psychiatric hospital. Or so rumor had it. That was long before Sophie’s time.

The place had always been spooky, but more so after those girls had gone missing. Sophie hadn’t been born yet when her aunt had vanished from the Ruins. Ellie Brannon had come back. Jenna Malloy had eventually come back—at least physically—but Riley Cavanaugh had disappeared without a trace that night. And now here Sophie was, fifteen years later, headed for the same destination.

She wasn’t frightened. Not really. The lake looked eerie in the muted moonlight, with cypress stumps rising from the shallow water and the banks curtained with Spanish moss. But as far as Sophie was concerned, there were scarier things back in town. Still, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder now and then.

Her aunt Rae had been sound asleep when she’d slipped down the stairs and out of the house. Sophie couldn’t get her license for another few months, so she’d ridden her bike out to the lake bridge and abandoned it beneath the supports. She had to go the rest of the way on foot. She was almost there now. She could see the smokestack from the old boiler room rising above the treetops. That gave her pause. So creepy. She was starting to get a little nervous now. She always did when her turn came, but she would never admit her unease to the others.

A twig snapped behind her and she whirled, peering all along the edge of the lake and into the woods. Nothing stirred except for the sway of the moss in the breeze and the gentle lap of water against the bank. A mosquito buzzed her face and she waved a hand to shoo it away. She should have brought insect repellent, but too late now.

She remained motionless for another long moment before turning back to the path. Up the steep bank she climbed, clutching vines and roots to help propel her to the top. When she reached the summit, she stood with the lake at her back and the Ruins silhouetted before her. Three stories of crumbling brick and mortar and broken-out windows.

Drawing a resolved breath, she picked her way through the weeds and brambles and entered through one of the arched doorways. Taking out her phone, she used the flashlight to illuminate the interior. She’d been here many times before, always in daylight until lately. She knew about the gurneys and wheelchairs that had been abandoned at the back of the building. She knew about the open elevator shaft upstairs and the caged area on the third floor. She angled the light beam over the biblical graffiti on the walls and the mural with the demonic face that had been painted on the ceiling.

Preacher. That was the name given to the former psychiatric patient who had continued to sermonize from his makeshift pulpit long after the hospital had closed down and the patients without families or financial means had been left to their own devices. Some had assimilated into nearby towns, or so the story went, but Sophie thought that might be another urban legend.

Whatever. She was here now. Let the game begin.

She crept from room to room, playing the light over the walls as she searched for a symbol that would guide her to the next level. The roof was missing in places and she had an image of the whole structure toppling down upon her, burying her in an avalanche of dark secrets and old misery. Would her aunt Rae blame herself? Would her parents? Would they even care?

The softest of steps sounded behind her. Phantom footfalls that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slowly, the light beam capturing a silhouette for one split second before the shadow darted away.

Rae tried to swallow away her fear as she drew a quick breath. “Preacher,” she said in a small voice. “Is that you?”

RAE AWAKENED WITH a start. She wasn’t sure what had roused her this time. In her dream, someone had been pounding on the front door. She lay still for a moment, listening to the dark house, but the only noise she heard was the scratch of a tree limb against her window.

She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, then paused in midstride as her gaze went to the bedroom door. She was certain she’d closed it earlier, but now it hung open, as if someone had stood in the hallway peering in at her.

Which was crazy. If Sophie had needed something, she would have barged right on in, turned on the light and called Rae’s name until she woke up. The girl could be as subtle as a sledgehammer at times. Still, Rae thought about her niece’s wan expression when she’d come home earlier. Something had obviously been bothering her, and now Rae regretted that she hadn’t been a little more curious.

She went down the hallway and listened at Sophie’s door. She could hear music inside. Maybe the girl was still up, still in need of a sympathetic ear. Rae knocked softly. When she didn’t get a response, she knocked a little harder and then tried the door. She expected to find it locked from the inside, but to her surprise, the door swung inward, revealing the usual mayhem and clutter. Music played from the laptop on Sophie’s bed. The window was open, allowing the night breeze to blow in. The lights were off except for a night-light that burned from the adjoining bathroom. Rae crossed the room and peeked inside, wincing at the mess. Damp towels had been tossed into a corner and the vanity was littered with cosmetics. But no Sophie.

Apprehension tickled at the back of Rae’s neck, but she told herself there was no cause for alarm. Sophie had probably gone down to the kitchen for a snack. Rae checked the hallway bathroom before heading downstairs, turning on lights as she went. Sophie wasn’t in the living room, den or kitchen. Not in the downstairs bathroom or out on the screened back porch. She wasn’t on the front porch, either, or in the detached garage. She wasn’t anywhere.

Don’t panic. She’d probably sneaked out of the house to meet her boyfriend.

Disregarding the late hour, Rae called the kid’s house, rousing his dad, who gruffly assured her that Dylan was in his room and had been since he’d come home around ten. Rae insisted he go check to make sure, which he’d begrudgingly agreed to do. Then he’d put Dylan on the phone and the kid had sworn he hadn’t seen Sophie since he’d dropped her off at home at 10:00 p.m.

Rae sat out on the front porch and called everyone else she could think of. None of Sophie’s friends had seen her. No one knew anything. How could she have slipped out of the house without Rae knowing? She was usually such a light sleeper.

Okay, just stay calm. It’s not that late. A few minutes after midnight. Well past curfew for a school night but Sophie wasn’t one for following the rules. Rae tried the girl’s cell phone for the umpteenth time and then sent her a barrage of text messages.

Where are you?

I’m starting to freak out a little. Call me as soon as you get this message. Just let me know you’re okay.

Sophie, call me! Call me right this minute! I’m serious!

You’re not in trouble, I promise. Just call me. I need to know you’re okay.

Sophie, please call me.

I’m worried.

After a bit, Rae got up and went back inside. She climbed the stairs to Sophie’s room and checked the laptop, then searched through the dresser drawers and closet looking for a clue as to where the girl might have gone. Then she got in her car and drove through town, up one street and down the other.

By the time she got back home, she could no longer keep panic at bay. It didn’t matter that Sophie had been missing for only a couple of hours. It didn’t matter that her niece had once pulled a similar stunt on her parents. Rae was responsible for the child now. She was the one in charge.

Plopping down on Sophie’s bed, she sent off another volley of texts before reaching for the laptop once again. Then she called the last person on earth she had expected to talk to that night.

RAE CAVANAUGH WAS the last person Tom had expected to hear from that night…or ever. He automatically checked his watch when the call came in. He should have left for home an hour ago, but he supposed it was just as well that he hadn’t. No matter the time, a call from a Cavanaugh would have been forwarded to his cell phone or landline. They were important folks, the Cavanaughs, and they weren’t shy about letting you know it.

He figured the call had something to do with the kid he had in lockup, one of their young roughnecks who’d gotten himself into a little trouble earlier in the evening. Tom wasn’t in the mood to be raked over the coals, but he could face Rae’s wrath now or in the morning. Didn’t much matter to him. He’d developed a thick skin when it came to the Cavanaughs.

“Sheriff Brannon.” He answered the phone in his usual manner, fully expecting a surly comeback.

“This is Rae Cavanaugh.”

She sounded out of breath. Distressed. Tom frowned. “What can I do for you, Rae?”

“Sophie’s gone missing.”

The unease that had niggled all evening deepened. “Sophie?”

“My niece. Jackson’s daughter. She’s been staying with me for a while. I went to check on her earlier and she’s not in her room. I called everyone I could think of. All her friends, her boyfriend. No one has seen her. Tom…” He could imagine her clutching the phone as everything she’d done to find her niece came pouring out in her panic. When she finished, she took another moment to gather her poise. “You and I have had our differences in the past, but I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not answering her phone or my texts. I just keep thinking about that night—”

“Hold on,” he said. “You say she came home at ten and went up to her room. It’s just after midnight now. At most she’s only been gone a couple of hours. Teenagers sneak out of the house all the time.”

“I know that. I keep telling myself she’s just gone off with a friend, but I checked with the girls I know she’s close to. No one has seen her.”

“Maybe she has a friend you don’t know about.”

“It’s possible. She hasn’t been living with me that long. Tom.” Dread crept into her voice. “I found something on her laptop just now. She has dozens of pictures of the Ruins. I think she took them herself. They look recent. You don’t think—”

“I was just leaving the office. I’ll make a run out there before I head home.”

“I’m coming, too. It’ll be faster if I meet you there.”

“Maybe you should stay home in case she comes back,” he said.

“I’ll leave a note and I’ll take my cell phone. I can’t sit in this house and do nothing. I’ll go crazy with worry.”

He sighed under his breath. “Okay, but if you get there first, wait for me by the bridge. Don’t go any farther without me. Understand?”

“Tom…”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “Aren’t you going to say it?”

“Say what, Rae?”

“This is my fault. She’s my responsibility.”

“Let’s just find her and bring her home.”

Tom ended the call and then went out to the squad room to speak with the dispatcher. A patrol car would meet them at the bridge. They could all traipse through the woods together. Most likely, the girl was out partying somewhere, but Tom didn’t take chances with missing kids.

As he went out to his own vehicle, he couldn’t help glancing skyward once more. The moon had disappeared behind a storm cloud.

Chapter Two

Rae’s car was pulled to the side of the road by the time Tom got out to the lake. He half expected she’d already taken off for the Ruins alone, but he called out to her anyway. To his surprise, she answered back immediately.

“Down here!”

He used his flashlight to pick his way down the embankment, half running, half sliding in the loose dirt and pebbles. His light flicked across Rae. She stood at the edge of the lake peering up under the bridge. His heart skidded but he kept his voice calm as he greeted her.

“Glad you waited for me.”

“I found her bike,” she said over her shoulder. She used her flashlight beam to guide his attention. “See it up there under the braces?”

“You sure it’s hers?”

“I’m certain. She brought it with her when she came to stay with me.”

“How long has that been?”

“Nearly three weeks. There was trouble at home,” she admitted reluctantly.

“What kind of trouble?”

“The usual stuff. Jackson doesn’t approve of her friends or the way she dresses or the music she listens to, and you know how well criticism goes over with a teenager. Even under the best of circumstances, Sophie’s a handful and my brother has never been the most tactful or patient person in the world. They all needed a break.”

“So you came to the rescue.” Tom hadn’t meant anything by the comment, but he regretted how it might sound to her.

“I offered to help. That’s what families do.”

“The good ones.” As he turned to scan their surroundings, his light caught her again. She seemed unaware of his quick scrutiny. The bike had her full attention. She looked uncharacteristically unkempt, her light brown hair tangled down her back, freckles exposed across her nose, clothing rumpled. Understandable under the circumstances. She’d undoubtedly left the house in a hurry, but what Tom couldn’t help noticing was that her frayed demeanor did little to disguise her appeal. He’d always admired Rae Cavanaugh’s good looks if not her disposition. As far back as high school, she’d been a real piece of work. Prickly, suspicious and obnoxiously competitive. Riley had been the sweet one. It pained Tom even now to think about her.

He kept his voice neutral as he asked the necessary questions. “You two didn’t have an argument, did you? Maybe she left the house to cool off. Or to teach you a lesson. Kids are like that.”

“We didn’t fight. We’ve been getting along reasonably well, considering.”

“Considering?”

“Like you said, she’s a kid. I don’t have a lot of experience dealing with teenagers except for…” She trailed off.

Except for Riley.

Tom finished her sentence in his head. Their mother had died when the Cavanaugh kids were still young. West Cavanaugh had remarried a few years later and there’d been a string of nannies and housekeepers in between. But Rae was the one who had looked after Riley. She’d been fiercely protective of her sister, so much so that Riley had taken to spending all her free time at their house just so she could have a little breathing room.

Tom wondered if Rae ever thought about that in those late hours when she couldn’t sleep. He wondered if she remained so hard on him because it was easier to attack than to reflect.

A car engine sounded on the road. Doors slammed and voices carried down to the lake. He called out to the patrol officers and both Billy Navarro and Naomi Clutter responded. A moment later, their flashlight beams bobbed in the dark as they hustled down the embankment.

Tom made short work of the introductions and explanations. Then they left the bridge and the abandoned bike and headed toward the Ruins, dread dogging their every step. Tom told himself it was much too early to worry. Two hours, going on three was nothing in the life of a teenager, especially one who might be acting out because of a difficult home life. He didn’t know Jackson and Lauren Cavanaugh well, but he’d had enough run-ins with the former to know that he could be a real jerk. The wife appeared to be the high-maintenance type, and Tom could well imagine how a spirited teenage stepdaughter might get in the way of spa treatments and country-club luncheons. Not a fair assessment, he readily admitted, but he wasn’t inclined to be all that generous when it came to the Cavanaughs.

None of that mattered at the moment anyway. Just find the girl and we’ll sort the rest out later.

The eclipse had entered its final stage. The moon drifted from behind a cloud, glimmering like quicksilver on the surface of the lake. Somehow the illumination made the woods all around them seem darker, thicker. No one said much. Billy and Naomi had taken the lead, Rae trailed behind them and Tom brought up the rear. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night fifteen years ago when he’d raced along the water’s edge alone. He couldn’t help brooding about the outcome.

Rae slowed and fell into step beside him. “Your sister lives out here somewhere, doesn’t she?”

“Her house is on the other side of the bridge.” Tom glanced over his shoulder. “If you look close enough, you can see the lights on her antenna flickering through the pine boughs.”

“I’ve listened to her show a few times. She has a soothing voice, but her callers are pretty strange,” Rae said. “Where do those people come from anyway? Are they for real?”

“She gets the occasional prank call, but most of them are real and they call in from all over the place. They just need somebody to listen to their story. At least, that’s what Ellie tells me.”

“I don’t see her in town much anymore. How is she?”

“She’s fine. Busy. Likes her solitude.”

Rae shivered as she glanced over the water and then turned her head and gazed up at what could be seen of the Ruins. “I would go crazy out here.”

“The Cavanaugh ranch is pretty isolated,” Tom pointed out.

“That’s different. People are always around. My dad, the housekeeper and all the ranch hands coming and going. It’s like a small town out there. One of the last big cattle ranches in the area,” she said proudly.

And quintessentially East Texas, Tom thought as he conjured an image of an Angus herd grazing peacefully in lush green pastures dotted with pumper jacks. The peaceful scenery in his head was a far cry from the disturbing reality of their current surroundings. Echo Lake held too many bleak memories, too many deep, dark secrets.

As if reading his thoughts, Rae glanced out over the water with a shiver. “I’ve heard people say that when the air is still and the hour is late, you can hear the screams of the patients echoing across the water. I never put much stock in all those old legends, but being out here like this… One can imagine almost anything.”

“Most likely what they hear are the peacocks from the old Thayer place,” Tom said. “They’ve roamed the countryside ever since Mrs. Thayer passed. My sister walks over a few times a week to feed them.”

Up ahead, Billy and Naomi had already begun the ascent to the top of the embankment. Tom knew better than to offer Rae assistance. She was too proud to accept his hand. Instead, she propelled herself up to the summit like a seasoned climber and stood waiting for him to scramble up behind her. Then they all took a moment to gaze at the Ruins.

Moonlight glinted off the windows, giving the place a strange sense of animation. Of being alive. Tom scoffed at himself. Maybe Rae’s trepidation had rubbed off on him. Maybe he was letting his own imagination get the better of him because if he listened closely enough, he could hear the creak of a door somewhere inside. Or was that the squeal of a rusted gurney? With very little effort, he could conjure ghostly images behind the broken windowpanes and phantom whispers rippling down through the trees. He shook off those visions, reminding himself that a place couldn’t be evil or haunted. The only real monsters were human.

“We’ll check around back,” Naomi said.

Tom nodded. “We’ll take the front. Call out if you find anything.”

“Roger that.”

She and Billy headed off into the darkness and Tom turned to Rae. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for me outside?”

“No, I need to go in with you. If Sophie’s inside and she sees you come in alone, she might get scared and think she’s in trouble. I don’t want to take the chance that she could run off again.”

She had a point. “Okay, but we need to stick together. And watch your step. I don’t trust the integrity of this place. One wrong move and the whole structure could come down on top of us.”

“It’s been standing for decades,” Rae said. “Even been through a few tornadoes. I think we’re safe enough, but your point is taken. I’ll be careful.”

They entered through one of the archways, pausing to rake their flashlight beams over the graffiti.

“I always wondered what this place was like on the inside. It’s even creepier than I imagined,” Rae said in a hushed voice. Her light lingered on the ceiling mural. “What’s that?”

“Preacher.” Tom swept his light over the demonic fresco. The eyes seemed to glow, but he knew that was only an illusion of paint and moonlight. “So you’ve never been inside before? That’s surprising. Spending time at the Ruins has been a rite of passage in these parts ever since the place closed down.”

“I was never much of a follower, and then after Riley disappeared…” She trailed away. “I’ve been outside plenty of times, but I could never make myself enter. After it happened, I’d drive out after school and walk around the area calling my sister’s name even though I knew she was long gone. I tried to picture where she might be. Tried to put myself in her place, imagine her fear, her screams…”

Tom heard a tremor in her voice. He was having flashbacks of that night, too. He’d been so panicked by the time he entered the building, he hadn’t stopped to assess the risk. On some level, he’d been aware of the structural danger and the possibility of rattlers or copperheads, but the human menace had eluded him until he heard the softest of footfalls behind him. By then it was too late. He was struck across the back of his head, so hard he fell to his knees. Another blow knocked him out cold.

He came to the next morning at the bottom of the rise, his hair and clothing stained with blood. He’d been rolled down the embankment and left for dead, no doubt bleeding so profusely that the assailant hadn’t bothered to finish him off. Tom had found Ellie lying facedown at the water’s edge. How she’d gotten away from her attacker or why she hadn’t drowned was anyone’s guess. Tom had administered CPR and then carried her all the way to the bridge, up the embankment and out to the road where he’d left his vehicle the night before.

Eighteen stitches and a week in the hospital later, he’d still blamed himself for not being able to save the others, even though he knew in his gut that Riley and Jenna had already been taken by the time he regained consciousness.

Beside him, Rae froze as she angled her beam along the cracked floor tiles. “Tom, look at this.”

He came over to stand beside her. Then he squatted, focusing his light on the red droplets.

“Is that blood?” she asked fearfully.

He touched his finger to a drop. “It’s fresh, but there isn’t much of it. Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Too late for that. He heard the sharp intake of Rae’s breath as she swung the flashlight wildly around the crumbling interior, tracking up the stairs and searching in all the dark corners.

“Sophie! Are you in here? Sophie, it’s Rae. Answer me!” He heard another gasp. “I saw something!”

He rose. “Where?”

She positioned the light at the top of the stairs. “Someone was up there watching us. A man, I think.”

“Stay here.” Tom unholstered his weapon as he moved toward the stairs. Running the flashlight beam along the landing, he started up, testing each step with his weight before moving on to the next. When he got to the top, he angled the beam down the long corridor, taking note of open doorways and piles of debris, places from which he could be ambushed.

“Sophie!” he called out. “Are you up here? This is Sheriff Brannon. You’re not in any trouble. Your aunt is with me. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” Gun in his right hand, flashlight in his left, he eased down the corridor, shining the beam inside the empty rooms. He heard footsteps on the stairs. “Rae, is that you?”

“I’m coming up,” she said.

He didn’t bother to argue. “Watch your step. The floor is rotting through up here.”

He heard her behind him, but he didn’t turn. Up ahead, in one of the gloomy recesses, he’d caught the glimmer of human eyes. “Whoever you are, put your hands behind your head and come out where I can see you.” Rae was at the top of the stairs now. He said over his shoulder, “Stay where you are, Rae.”

“Who’s up here?” she asked on a breath.

“I don’t know yet. Stay by the stairs.”

In front of him, a shadow darted across the corridor. Startled, Tom called out, “Freeze!”

A face peered back at him for a split second before disappearing. Just vanished before Tom’s very eyes.

He moved forward cautiously until one foot found nothing but air. He found himself teetering on the brink of the old elevator shaft. A rope swung wildly from a rafter as if someone had rappelled down into the chute. He leaned over the opening, allowing the flashlight beam to peel away the inky layers. Something was down there, crumpled on the floor.

“Tom?”

He threw out an arm to halt Rae’s progress. “Careful. Long drop. Looks like it may go all the way down to the basement.”

“What is it?”

“The old elevator shaft. Someone’s rigged up a rope. I think whoever was up here used it to lower himself down.”

Tom holstered his weapon and reached for the rope, rocking precariously for a moment before Rae grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Are you crazy? You don’t know how old that thing is. Who knows how much weight it’ll hold.”

She was right. A broken leg wouldn’t help them find Sophie. “Let’s see if we can figure out another way into the basement.”

They backtracked along the corridor, down the stairs and through a maze of hallways to the back of the building. Outside, Tom glanced once again at the sky. The eclipse was nearly over. He wanted to take that as a good sign, but the blood drops inside, coupled with the crumpled form he’d seen in the elevator shaft, didn’t bode well for a happy outcome. Beside him, Rae remained tense and silent.

He could see the deputies’ flashlight beams bobbling in the dark. He called out to them. “Stay alert. We saw someone inside.”

“Any sign of the girl?” Naomi called back.

“Not yet. We’re looking for a way down into the basement. One of you stand guard out here, the other go around to the front. Make sure no one leaves this place without our knowing.”

They split up, Billy taking the rear while Naomi went around to the front. Tom and Rae searched along the house until they located the outside basement entrance. A set of concrete steps led down to a metal door that hung open on one rusty hinge. He pulled back the door and then angled his flashlight beam into the cavernous space.

An odor of sour mud and dead fish emanated from the cellar, reminding Tom of a bog. He imagined there were plenty of rats and snakes in there, too. He didn’t relish an exploration, but he wasn’t about to delegate that job to a rookie.

He said over his shoulder, “You two wait out here. Keep your eyes peeled.”

“I’m coming with you,” Rae insisted. “Sophie is my niece. She’s my responsibility. I need to help you find her.” She touched his sleeve. “Please, Tom.”

He stepped back. “Can you smell that? You still want to go in there?”

“I don’t want to, no. I want to be back home asleep in my bed with Sophie safe and sound down the hallway. But I’m not leaving here until we’ve searched every square inch of this place.”

“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s get it done.”

RAE PUT THE back of her hand to her nose as she followed Tom into the basement. That smell! As if she hadn’t been apprehensive enough. The stench of sour mud and rotting vegetation permeated her nostrils and clogged her throat. She swallowed past her gag reflex and braced herself. She had to do this. Now was not the time to go wimpy and squeamish. She had to find Sophie. Nothing else could be allowed to matter.

She cleared her throat, dropped her hand from her nose and took a few tentative breaths until she felt clearheaded and steady. The building was on high ground, but enough rainwater had seeped in over the decades to allow mold, mildew and all manner of creeping things to take up residence. Even now Rae could have sworn she heard dripping water, but they hadn’t had rain in weeks. Maybe it was condensation. The air was damp, and the stone floor felt slippery beneath her sneakers.

She resisted the urge to cling to Tom’s shirt as they made their way through small mountains of discarded equipment and debris. She didn’t want to think about the original purpose of all those old contraptions, but already she had visions of restraints and drain tables dancing through her head. Once upon a time, the hospital had had its own morgue. She wondered if that was where they were now.

The elevator was just ahead. She tried to get a better view, but Tom’s broad back kept blocking her, as if he wanted to shield her.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You keep moving in front of me. Why? What are you afraid I’ll see?”

“I’ve got a weapon and you don’t,” he said. “We don’t know who or what we’ll find down here. It’s best that you stay behind me.”

“You saw something from above, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what I saw,” he admitted. “Will you just stay behind me?”

“You think Sophie’s—”

“Alive,” he said. “We’ve no reason to think otherwise.”

“Except for the blood we found.”

“A very small amount and could be animal blood, for all we know. Just stay focused. Let’s finish this job.”

They approached the elevator shaft and Rae moved around Tom despite his protests. Her heart thudded when her flashlight beam connected with something on the floor. Tom moved quickly to investigate.

“It’s just a bunch of old clothing,” he said.

Was that relief she heard in his voice? “Are you sure?”

He picked up a metal rod from the floor and prodded the pile. “See?”

No sooner had Rae let out her own relieved breath than a sound brought her up short. She couldn’t identify the direction of the noise. The basement had an echo effect that disoriented her. Why had she insisted on coming down here with Tom? She could have remained outside with the officer and no one would have thought less of her. She hated close places. Hated the dampness even more. Hated the sensation that something or someone lurked in the shadows, just beyond the reach of her flashlight. Rae wasn’t one for allowing her imagination to get the better of her, but this place held too many trapped memories.

Tom called to his deputy. “Billy?”

“Right here, sir.” His voice came from the top of the outside steps.

“You see anything out there?”

“No, sir. Everything’s quiet. What about down there?”

“We’re about to find out,” Tom said.

Rae moved her flashlight beam around the room. Near the entrance, something glinted.

“Tom?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Someone’s down here.”

Icy fingers slid down her back as she gripped the flashlight. She used her other hand to steady her wrist as she vectored in on a silhouette. Human. Tall, lanky with longish hair and a scraggly beard. She thought for a moment her fear had conjured the man, but then she caught the glimmer of his beady eyes before he dropped to the floor and scurried crab-like back into a yawning black hole beside the entrance.

“Did you see—”

Tom swore under his breath as he sprinted across the room, Rae at his heels. She wasn’t about to be left behind.

A metal gate hung open, revealing the dark void into which the man had scuttled.

“What is that place?” she asked on a quavering breath.

Tom knelt to shine his light back into the opening. “Looks to be a crawl space or a tunnel of some sort. I can see some old pipes. Lots of cobwebs, too.”

“You’re not going in there,” Rae said.

“Get Billy down here.”

“Tom, you can’t—”

“Make sure he knows where I’m going.”

She didn’t argue further, but spun on her heel and ran up the steps. She called to the deputy, told him about the tunnel, and by the time he’d followed her back into the basement, Tom had disappeared.

THE CRAWL SPACE went on and on. Tom walked hunched over, occasionally dropping to his hands and knees when the floor and ceiling tightened. He’d never been bothered by close places, but the tunnel unnerved him. It was damp and moldy and he could smell something fetid up ahead. Something that churned his stomach and stiffened his backbone.

Dead rodents, he told himself, but the dark passenger of dread climbed upon his shoulder and whispered bad things in his ear. He shook off the presentiment, reminding himself that Sophie had been missing only a few hours. For all they knew, she was out partying with a friend or lying low someplace to teach her parents a lesson. No reason to believe the worst. They still had plenty of time.

But the clock was ticking and the crawl space seemed endless. After a bit, Tom felt a slight ascension, as if he were heading back up to ground level.

Rae called out to him. His muffled name reverberated through the narrow passage, sending a shiver down his spine even as he took comfort in the sound of her voice. “Just stay put,” he called back to her.

He didn’t know if she’d heard him or not. Surely she wouldn’t try to follow him through the crawl space. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though. He had to follow this thing to the end, had to discover the source of that smell.

He plunged on, eventually arriving at another gated opening. Instead of getting closer to the source of the smell, the odor had faded. He could feel fresh air on his face. The crawl space had led him from the main building back to the old boiler room. Tall windows allowed in enough moonlight so that he could make out the metal grates that would have restricted the flames.

Perching at the edge of the opening, he shone his flashlight into the room before he dropped down to the floor and stood gazing around. The space was littered with discarded food cans, an old mattress and what looked to be a camping stove. Someone had been living there.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just as an emaciated man with a heavy beard leaped out of the crawl space and flung himself at Tom, knocking him off balance. He swore as he scrambled to his feet. Once he regained his equilibrium, he had no trouble fending off the scrawny attacker.

“That’s enough,” Tom said, holding the flailing assailant at bay. Then he pushed him away and the man dropped to the floor, cowering and whimpering.

“I didn’t do nothing. You got no call to hurt me like that.”

“You’re the one who jumped me,” Tom pointed out. “I was just defending myself.”

The man cringed and hid his face.

“Look at me.” Tom trained the flashlight beam on the badge he wore clipped to his belt. “My name’s Tom Brannon. I’m the Nance County sheriff. What are you doing in here? Have you been living in this place?”

The man sat up and scratched a bony arm. “I stay here sometimes when I’m passing through. No law against that, is there?”

“Depends on what you’ve been up to.” Tom flicked the beam around the room. “What’s your name?”

“Marty.”

“You got a last name?”

“Booker.”

“Have you seen anyone else at the Ruins tonight, Marty?”

“Like who?”

“A girl.” Tom had been moving the flashlight around the room, but now he froze the beam on the floor. He used one of the disposable gloves he kept in his pocket to pick up a cell phone in a pink silicone case, gingerly holding it by the edges. “Where did you get this?”

“Found it.”

“Where?”

Marty gave a vague nod toward the door. “Over yonder. Somebody dropped it, I reckon. Finders, keepers.”

The phone wasn’t locked. Tom kept an eye on the man while he scrolled through the contact numbers. Before he had time to get through the list, Rae burst through the door with Billy Navarro behind her.

“We saw a light out here and then we heard voices.” She halted when she saw the stranger shrinking in the shadows. “Who’s he?”

“Says his name’s Marty Booker.” Tom held up the phone. “Do you recognize this?”

Her eyes went wide with shock. “It’s Sophie’s. Where did you find it?”

“It was lying on the floor in plain sight.” He handed the phone to Navarro. The deputy produced a plastic evidence bag, dropped the phone inside and sealed it.

“Lying on the floor in here?” Horror crept into Rae’s tone. “Where did it come from?”

He nodded toward the man in the shadows. “That’s what I’m trying to determine. He says he found it in the main building.”

Rae took a step toward the stranger. “You saw Sophie tonight?” When he didn’t respond, she advanced closer. “You took her phone, so you must have seen her. Where is she? Where is she!?”

The outburst startled even Tom. He had no doubt Rae would have gone for the man’s throat if he hadn’t caught her arm and held her back. She tried to shrug out of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

He held her tighter. “Settle down.”

“But he knows something!”

In all the commotion, Marty Booker shrieked and buried his head in his arms.

Rae was unmoved. “If you’ve hurt my niece in any way, I swear to God I’ll—”

“Just cool it,” Tom warned. “We’re not going to get anything out of him if you keep threatening him like that.”

She jerked away. “Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“I’m trying to do my job if you’d let me.”

“That would be a first!” she shot back.

Okay, truce over, Tom thought. He wouldn’t hold it against her under the circumstances.

Marty Booker took a peek from between folded arms, his gaze darting from Tom to Rae. “I didn’t do anything, I swear it. I would never hurt anyone.”

“But you saw a girl out here tonight,” Tom said.

He hemmed and hawed before he shrugged. “Maybe I saw her.”

“Where?” Rae demanded.

He gave the same vague nod toward the entrance. “I see them over there sometimes, but they don’t see me.”

Tom held up a hand to silence Rae. “Who?”

“Those kids. Him.”

“Him?”

Booker’s eyes lifted to the ceiling as if he were searching for the mural. “Him.”

Tom said to Rae, “Do you have a picture of Sophie?”

She fumbled for her phone and then scrolled through the camera roll.

Tom took the phone and held up the screen so that Booker could see the shot of Sophie. “Did you see this girl tonight?”

He hesitated. “Maybe it was her. I don’t see so well at night.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“He took her.”

“Who?” Tom pressed.

“Preacher,” he whispered. “Preacher took that girl.”

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