by Barb Han
Throwing her arms up, Rebecca waved at the pair. She was greeted with a huge smile from Samantha, but Mr. Turner hesitated. He said something to his daughter, but they were too far away for Rebecca to make it out.
When Samantha pointed at Rebecca and nodded, Mr. Turner looked downright uncomfortable. Not an unusual reaction from people in town, but it reminded Rebecca just what an outcast she was in her own hometown. And as much as she’d love to keep her mother around for many more years, healthy, Rebecca was eager to move back to a bigger town. Chicago had been kind to her. And best of all, no one knew about her past there. She didn’t get those same wide-eyed stares and behind-the-back whispers when people passed by her in the streets as she did in Mason Ridge. Don’t get her wrong, she loved her hometown more than anything, just not some of the baggage that came with it.
Samantha led her reluctant father to the table and plopped down. He did not. “It’s so good to see you, Rebecca. You remember my father.”
“Of course. Mr. Turner, it’s so nice to see you again.” With her mother in long-term care and Rebecca herself living in a rental, she hadn’t had much need to stop by the hardware store. She stood and stuck out her hand.
He obliged, shaking just long enough to be polite.
Rebecca noticed his palm was warm, sweaty. Since when did her presence start making people so nervous? She was used to seeing sadness in everyone’s eyes. Some were upset even and she figured they didn’t want to be reminded of that summer. But nervous? She’d moved into a whole new category. Great.
Maybe she had always made people feel that way and she’d been too trapped inside her own head to notice.
“I’m sorry I can’t join you two,” he started.
“Daddy saw some friends at the counter. He asked if we’d mind if he ate lunch with them.”
“Not at all,” Rebecca said, figuring he didn’t look too sorry. In fact, he looked like he might jump out of his skin if she said, “Boo!”
He scurried off to join a couple of older men seated at the bar stools at the breakfast counter.
When he was out of earshot Samantha leaned in, embarrassment flushing her cheeks, and said, “Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with him lately. Getting old, I guess.”
Rebecca figured she had a good handle on his sudden need to eat lunch with someone else, anyone else. The man looked like he’d seen a ghost, which was par for the course for her and another reason she didn’t mind working the graveyard shift. She figured most parents didn’t want to be reminded what could’ve happened to their child instead of Shane. “It’s fine. This will give us a chance to really talk. We’d bore him to death with our conversation, anyway.”
Samantha flashed a grateful look and then summoned the waiter. “I swear he’s starting to get senile. And the man doesn’t sit still anymore.”
“He’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
The waiter interrupted their conversation. Samantha ordered a club sandwich and sweet tea.
“I should have a salad, but I can’t resist the burgers here,” Rebecca confessed. “Looks like I’ll be hitting the gym later.”
“It’s so good to see you. How long has it been?”
Rebecca didn’t want to try to reach back too far. “I know I haven’t seen you since we headed to different colleges.”
“Our ten-year reunion is like next year.” Samantha’s look of horror brought a smile to Rebecca’s face.
“Already? Man, time flies.”
“I somehow got hooked with planning duties. I’m on the attendance committee, which basically means I’m responsible for finding everyone and making sure they show up.”
Rebecca gave a full-body shiver. “Count me out.”
“You have to come. If only to support me,” Samantha said on a laugh.
“Do you stay in touch with Lisa or Melanie?”
“Mostly just Melanie. She moved to Houston after college so we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like. Lisa’s not too far, though. I’ve run into her a few times at the grocery with Pops. I meant to call her today.”
“I’d love to see both of them again. I work deep nights, so even though I live nearby I never see anyone.” She decided not to share just how on purpose that was. But seeing Samantha was nice. Rebecca hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed having this kind of friendship. Ties that ran deep.
“Melanie never comes back.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Says her work keeps her too busy and she doesn’t get a lot of vacation time. When she does, she likes to see someplace new.”
That last bit of information came out a little too quickly. Samantha practically stumbled over the words in her rush to explain.
Rebecca had no intention of making anyone else uncomfortable, not on purpose. Most people didn’t want anything to do with her anymore and she understood on some level. They couldn’t help, so they’d wanted to forget. She was just a big old fat reminder of the worst summer in the history of Mason Ridge, of every parent’s worst nightmare. Plus, everyone had known and loved Shane. She couldn’t blame them for not wanting to be reminded of the horrible incident that took him away from them. If it hadn’t happened to her family, she might be able to look the other way, too.
“Okay, you got me. I’ll come to the reunion,” Rebecca said, mostly to redirect the conversation.
“Seriously? You will?” Again, her friend looked grateful for the change of subject.
“If I’m in town.” She wanted to add, and still alive.
Chapter Ten
Brody picked Dawson up at their meeting point on his way to find Ryan, regretting the extra five minutes it took.
“Have you heard from Ryan at all today?” Brody asked, checking his phone again after pulling into the spot he and Rebecca had occupied nearly half an hour ago. He’d brought his friend up-to-date on the short ride over.
“Nope. Not a word. But then that’s not unusual,” Dawson said, shoving the last bite of a burrito into his mouth.
Having along a guy as big as Dawson, with almost twice Brody’s strength, was a good thing, Brody figured.
“Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on.” Brody didn’t like how Ryan had looked earlier. The edge to his tone hadn’t sat well with Brody. After the revelation about Ryan’s uncle, he looked even more determined to figure out what was going on. Brody sent another text to Ryan and then waited.
There was no response. Again.
“Here’s the most logical place to park, but Ryan’s vehicle is nowhere.” Brody checked the navigation system’s map. If he could believe what was on the screen then Ryan was fifty feet or so off the road.
He and Dawson got out of his truck and headed toward the dot on the screen. As they moved, he thought about the missing Sunnyvale boy, the timing. There had to be a connection. What were they missing? But then, getting inside the head of a man who’d abducted a child wouldn’t be easy. What about the age of the Glenn kid? He was seven just as Shane had been. Were there other cases in Texas of seven-year-olds going missing? Did the abductor live in Texas? Brody had to think so.
This far, they didn’t have squat to go on except a vague description. The hoodie and sunglasses blocked his face and Rebecca had not been able to get a good view of the guy during either encounter, which was frustrating. No more so than the blow to Brody’s head. Having his skull traumatized didn’t make for the best recall. Brody made a mental note to run a search for crimes connected to seven-year-old boys in Texas.
The phone vibrated. Brody checked the screen. He had another email from the feed store. Still no word from Ryan.
Cell coverage would become spotty the closer he moved into Woodrain Park. On the other hand, the fact he hadn’t heard from Rebecca was good news. Even so, a bad feeling crept up his spine. Call it instinct, intuition or a sixth sense, Brody didn’t care. Whatever it was had kept him alive in more than one dicey situation in the military.
For Ryan’s sake, Brody hoped like hell Greg hadn’t been inv
olved. Brody vaguely remembered the guy hanging around Ryan’s house in the summers. Even then Brody knew the guy was no good. Did that mean he was a kidnapper? A murderer?
Rebecca had dismissed it, but Brody couldn’t stop thinking about the apple tobacco. What was the chance that was a coincidence?
“I know this area,” Dawson said. “These woods connect to Mason Ridge Lake on the south side.”
“Which means the RV park where most of the festival workers stay is just on the other side of the lake,” Brody agreed, now that he was getting his bearings. The workers pretty much stuck to themselves when they came through town, unlike the winter carnival crew, who would show up in restaurants, chat up locals and walk the town square. The only times he remembered seeing festival people were early in the mornings at the grocery when he’d had occasion to go. And, sometimes, late nights at the Laundromat, although they hung most of their clothes to dry near the lake. If one of their machines needed a part, they’d show up at the hardware store, but that was a rare sighting. The nearest auto shop was in Sunnyvale. If one of their vehicles had trouble, they’d have to go there or be towed. Brody hadn’t thought much about their habits before.
Being a Renaissance Festival, people walked around in sixteenth-century costumes. There were horse games played and turkey legs for sale. The workers kept to themselves. He figured the lack of workers in town had more to do with them sleeping in mornings and the fact there wasn’t much to do in Mason Ridge.
Dawson followed closely behind as Brody led the way through the thicket.
The lake was coming into view by the time they reached the spot where Ryan should be. “This is it.”
“He has to be around here somewhere.” The day was in full swing and Brody could see festival workers from across the lake. They looked to be gathered in a circle. Were they having a meeting? “What’s going on over there?”
“Hard to tell from here.” He moved out of the tree line and to the water’s edge. “It looks like they’re sitting around having lunch.”
Brody moved next to him. Kids ran around, kicking and chasing a ball. A woman was hanging clothes on the line she’d set up from a lamppost to her RV. Nothing suspicious appeared to be going on. It all looked like pretty normal stuff to Brody.
A text came through. Brody checked his phone. It was from Ryan. “He wants to meet at the picnic tables.” Branches broke to their left.
Brody whirled around. The trees were thick enough to block his view. He locked gazes with Dawson and then motioned for him to break to the left. Brody broke to the right, his steps so light they made no sound. Dawson’s hunting instincts must’ve kicked in, because he didn’t make a noise, either.
The sound Brody heard might have been an animal and that was the most logical answer. No one, and especially not the Mason Ridge Abductor, would be dumb enough to attack them in broad daylight. Then again, he’d just tried that with Rebecca.
Let him pick on someone his own size, Brody thought, stepping ever so softly through the underbrush.
He and Dawson would come at whomever or whatever was making the noise from opposite sides. It was the best way to surprise him.
Another noise sounded, indicating more movement. Brody tracked farther to the left, hoping Dawson was correcting his position as well and that he wasn’t being lured into a trap. This scenario had stink bait written all over it.
What if it was Ryan?
Brody reminded himself that cell coverage was spotty in the woods. Or...
A bad thought hit Brody. Ryan would answer his phone if he could.
Whatever was making that sound was on the move. And that had to be a good thing, because if it was Ryan that meant he was capable of walking.
Brody picked up a rock the size of his fist and hurled it toward a tree ten feet away to see if he could stir up more movement. An animal would react instantly to the sound and scatter.
He stilled.
Sounds of children’s laughter floated across the lake. No bolt from an animal.
Meaning the noise was being made by a person.
A muttered curse followed a grunt and a thud. Then a call for help shot through the trees. Dawson.
Brody broke into a run toward the sound, branches slapping him in the face and underbrush stabbing needles in his shoes.
A large man was hovering over Dawson, who was on his side on the ground. Brody dove straight into the guy, knocking him off balance.
Dawson immediately rolled away and then jumped to his feet. He moved so quickly the guy didn’t have time to react. Brody had already pinned the guy with his thighs. “You like sneaking up on people in the woods?”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” the guy ground out. “What are you doing over here, sneaking around, watching my friends?”
Hope that this could be The Mason Ridge Abductor died instantly based on this guy’s size and general stature. He was big and powerful. Not thin, like Rebecca had said.
“We’re looking for our friend.”
“Get off me and I’ll help.”
Brody nodded to Dawson, who eased off the festival worker. He was a big guy with a ponytail. He was a bit older, his white hair streaked with gray.
“If your friends are over there, then what are you doing sneaking around on this side of the lake?” Brody asked.
The man dusted the dirt off his jeans and then took the hand up Brody offered. “My name’s Lester Simmons.”
“We heard a woman was attacked at the grocery nearby and we didn’t want to take any chances. We travel with our wives and children to a different city every week. We’ve seen and heard just about everything. No one wanted to risk it so we set up watch,” Lester said. His deep-set brown eyes and permanent smile lines softened what could have been an intimidating figure. One phone call and he could have a dozen men bolting around that lake. The tables would be turned. Brody and Dawson would be completely outnumbered.
Brody gave a nod of understanding and provided a description of Ryan. “According to GPS on his phone, he should be in this area.”
“Hold on.” Lester pulled his cell from his back pocket.
“Whoa. Not so fast.”
“I already have guys on their way. I’m not dumb enough to investigate a sound alone. Figure I’ll give them a heads-up so they can look for your friend.” Lester went to work on his phone.
“Thank you,” Brody said. “Sorry about before.”
“It’s cool. Tensions are high around camp, too.” Lester pocketed his phone. “Where’d you leave off?”
“The last message I received from him said he’d be near the picnic tables,” Brody said, remembering the area.
“There’s a set right over here. We come over sometimes for dinner because the barbecue grills are less crowded on this side.” Lester led them to the tree line.”
Sure enough there was a set of picnic tables nestled near a cove. No sign of Ryan.
None of this made sense.
Brody fired off another text to his friend and moved to the location Ryan said he’d be.
No response. No luck.
More men arrived, coming from every direction, and offered the same response when asked if they’d seen anyone else.
The area had been thoroughly searched and there was still no word from or sign of Ryan. It wasn’t like him to pull a prank or do something like this. Brody didn’t like it one bit.
“Think we should check his place?” Dawson asked. “Maybe he gave up waiting and headed home.”
“That’s a good idea. There’s no sign of him here and we’ve been searching for more than an hour.” Brody had an idea. He called Ryan’s phone and then listened. The buzzing sound came a few seconds later. Brody moved to it, located the device.
“Looks like he was here. I’ll take this back to him.” Brody swiped his finger across the screen. Sure enough, the texts were there. He scanned the log for any others that might give a clue as to where Ryan could be. There was nothing. Brody turned to Le
ster. “Your help is much appreciated. I apologize again for the misunderstanding earlier.”
Lester’s friends looked over at him in confusion.
“Not a problem. Like I said, everyone’s on alert around here.” Lester smiled and took the hand being offered in a hearty shake.
On the way back to the truck, Brody filled Dawson in on the phone’s contents. Dawson double-checked the logs and didn’t find anything that stood out, either.
At least they’d made a contact within the festival ranks. Having an ally there might come in handy later. There were so many of them around town for the festival, which wrapped up tomorrow. The more eyes and ears, the better. And it was also helpful to know his family and friends were as concerned as the rest of the town.
Turns out, the festival crowd wasn’t so different from the people of Mason Ridge.
Finding Ryan had just become top priority.
The drive to his house took another twenty minutes. Brody parked across the street and then texted Rebecca to find out if she was doing okay.
Rebecca replied that she and Samantha were catching up and he could take his time getting back to the restaurant.
As Brody opened the door to get out, his phone rang. The name of the caller was Rebecca.
Odd.
He quickly answered.
“Brody, I thought you’d want to know that Ryan just walked in.”
“He’s okay?”
“Not a scratch on him,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Hold on to him for me, okay?” Brody stopped Dawson and ended the call. “False alarm. He just showed up at Angel’s in town.”
“That’s strange.”
“Isn’t it? At least we know he’s not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Relief settled over Brody and he realized how clenched his shoulder muscles had been. “Want me to drop you off at your house?”
Dawson nodded as he got back in the truck. “It’s been a crazy few days, hasn’t it?”