by Diane Capri
“I saw her down at the Chinese place a few minutes ago. Paid my friend a few bucks to uh, keep her busy for a while. She’s easily distracted, so I’d say I have all the time I need.”
“You could have just talked to me. You didn’t have to hold me against my will.”
“I’ve tried talking to you,” he said. “It never works. Thanks for the suggestion, though. I’ll keep it in mind for next time.”
Drawers opened and closed, and then Cade walked somewhere else. I heard the sound of papers shuffling around, followed by the unzipping of a suitcase. So much for privacy.
“Stay out of my bag—you can’t go through my personal items!”
“You know, Sloane, this would be a lot easier if you’d just told me where I could find it,” he said.
“Fine. Let me out of these cuffs, and I will.”
“Oh, no. Somethin’ tells me once you’re released, you might have a change of heart.”
He was getting ready to experience that change of heart first-hand. While he’d been sifting and sorting, I’d used my foot to inch over a sewing kit on the bathroom counter, a complimentary item provided by the hotel. Once it was close enough, I slid the plastic lid open with my hand, carefully and quietly pulling out the needle inside.
“You give up yet?” Cade shouted.
I thought about turning on the waterworks, but even I wouldn’t buy that. “I have nothing to say to you. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking.”
“Works for me,” he said.
I lifted the needle into the air, lining it up with the hole on the cuff around my wrist. All I had to do now was stick it in, make sure it was in the correct position, and I was free.
“What do you think you’re doin’?” Cade said.
The needle dropped as I glanced up. Defeated. Cade was inches from my face, staring down at me. My damp, soggy hair splashed droplets of water into my eyes, probably causing my mascara to run. I knew I should have scrubbed it off in the shower. I imagined I resembled one of the female zombies in Shaun of the Dead. No wonder he’d been laughing. Cade smelled like a mixture of spices and some kind of wood, which I shouldn’t have found intoxicating, but I couldn’t help it.
He leaned in, and I leaned back.
What was he doing?
“You know, you’re very pretty,” he said. “Even with all the wet hair in your face.”
“Don’t talk to me,” I said. But it was more of a whisper than a demand.
He raised his arms, and a moment later, my hand was free. I considered slapping him across the face but tended to my throbbing wrist instead. There was plenty of time to slap him later. Cade stepped back, fully prepared for me to strike. He was perplexed when I didn’t.
“Wait—that’s it?” he said. “I was prepared for some kind of retaliation. What’s gotten into you?”
The door to the hotel room had opened, and it took no time for Lord Berkeley to realize something was amiss. He bounded into the bathroom, teeth clenched, barking loud enough for five floors of guests to hear.
I looked at Cade.
“I suggest you don’t touch him. He may be small, but don’t let his size fool you.”
Cade nodded.
Maddie walked into the bathroom and came to a standstill, taking in the scene around her. The handcuffs were still dangling from the shower rod, and with me in nothing but a robe and Cade staring at me, key in hand, I could only imagine what she was thinking.
“I, umm, don’t really know what’s going on here, but ahh, do you two want me to go?” she said, pointing at the door.
I shook my head and reached down, scooping up Lord Berkeley. “Maddie stay, Cade go.”
“Can I say one thing before I leave?” Cade said.
“You’ve said enough, and you’ve done enough,” I said. “I’d like to get dressed now.”
He walked out, closing the door behind him.
I was relieved Cade hadn’t thought to ask Maddie about the envelope. He simply left the room like I’d asked.
A giggling Maddie looked at me and said, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
So I did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When I was sixteen, I was hired by a family on my street to watch their seven-year-old daughter, Anna. Both parents worked. And before I came along, I heard they’d left her alone from time to time while they ran what they liked to call “short” errands. But some of those errands lasted for hours. At least, that’s what the neighbors told my mother during one of their gossip sessions.
I was thrilled to earn some extra money, but developing a relationship with Anna was like trying to befriend a dog who wasn’t loyal to anyone but his owners. I couldn’t get her to talk to me. She wasn’t shy; it was like she didn’t trust anyone. I tried different things with her, even taking her to the movies once. In the middle of the show, she said she wanted more popcorn. She knew where the concession counter was, and hadn’t wanted me to come with her. So I sat there. Five minutes passed and then ten. I went to check on her and couldn’t find her anywhere. She wasn’t in the building. One of the workers said he’d filled up her popcorn and then she walked out of the movie theater. The feeling of fear that I had about losing her was more intense than anything I’d ever experienced in my entire life.
Anna had decided to walk home. I found her on a sidewalk a couple blocks away, cold and shaking. It took some convincing, but I finally managed to get her inside the car.
When we arrived back at Anna’s house, her father questioned her about why she left the theater without telling me. She wouldn’t answer, so he pulled her pants down in front of me, spanking her with his bare hand. I thought it would just be once, but then he did it again, this time becoming more enraged.
When Anna’s father raised his hand a third time, she looked at me, and in a trembling voice, she said my name. Up until then, I wasn’t even sure she knew what it was. She’d never said it before. I’ll never forget how she looked at me, like I was the only one in her life who understood what her life was like. And I did. Her father was a lot bigger than me, of course. But sometimes people underestimate how strong another person can be, especially once the adrenalin starts flowing. No one could stop me, not even him. I yanked her off his knee, tore out of the house with her in tow, and ran all the way to my house, both of us too terrified to look back until we got there.
I never babysat for Anna’s parents again, but I did tell my mother what had happened, and since she had been a victim of abuse herself during her marriage to my father, she had zero tolerance when it came to letting it happen to anyone else, especially when that person was a child. She tried to talk to Anna’s mother, and when that didn’t work, she made some phone calls. I didn’t see Anna again after that day. I asked my mom what had happened, and the only thing she said was she’d taken care of it: Anna was safe.
Some people shouldn’t have kids.
I thought about that as I watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock on the nightstand. I’d tried to sleep for hours, but I couldn’t quiet my mind. It was filled with the mental images I’d created of Olivia and Savannah and the sorrow I felt for what their families were going through.
The soft melody coming from my iPhone pulled me out of my thoughts. The time was now three-something in the morning. Only one of my eyes was functioning properly, so I couldn’t be sure of the time.
Maddie grunted in disgust. “Who calls at this hour?”
I didn’t move. Was the phone actually ringing?
Maddie chucked a pillow in my direction. “Are you going to answer it, or what?”
“Hello?” I said.
“Miss Monroe?”
“Who’s this?” I said.
“Noah Tate.”
But it didn’t sound like Mr. Tate at all.
“It’s early, Mr. Tate,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
“No—it’s not. It’s my wife, Jane.”
As soon as he’d said his wife’s name, I knew e
verything wasn’t okay. I knew everything wasn’t going to be okay ever again. By the time Maddie and I parked at the hospital and went in, it was already too late. Jane Tate was dead. She’d woken up at some point in the night, taken about ten too many pills, and went back to sleep, this time for all eternity. Even if I did find Savannah, and even if she was still alive, their family wouldn’t ever be together. Not in this lifetime.
Mr. Tate came stumbling into the waiting room, his face pale and clammy. He looked right at me but didn’t see me. He acted like he didn’t see much of anything. Detective McCoy came around the corner, trying to console him, but it didn’t do much good.
I looked at Cade, who was seated in the waiting room. “Where’s Lily?”
He leaned over and whispered, “She’s fine. The nurses put her in one of the spare beds. She doesn’t have any idea what’s going on.”
I was grateful. She’d been through enough.
“Where is she?” I said.
“Four doors down on the right.”
I found Lily’s room and went inside, carefully closing the door behind me. She was curled up in the bed, asleep, a little stuffed unicorn tucked beneath her arm. If there was ever a time I wanted to shed tears for another human being, this was it. First her sister, and now her mother. I leaned over, kissing her on the cheek, and hoped she was still young enough to have a chance at a happy life.
When I returned to the waiting room, Cade was still there. “Look,” he said, “about what happened earlier. I’m sorry I—”
I touched his arm. “Don’t be. You were right.”
He looked at me, puzzled.
I handed him the plastic case. He took it without saying anything, opened it, and then gripped it so tight, his knuckles changed color.
Through gritted teeth, he said, “Are you trying to help this case or sabotage it?”
I remained silent. He didn’t.
“I’ve only known one other PI in my life, and they didn’t take cases like you do. They did fluffy stuff like follow a woman’s husband to see if he was cheatin’, so I honestly don’t know what’s going on here. But if you think you can show up in my town, and disrespect all that my father has done for this family, I’ll escort you back to Utah right now.”
Maddie started to get up from her chair but I shook my head. I deserved every word. Cade had a right to feel the way he did. I was mad at myself. My heart was in the right place, but he didn’t know me enough to understand who I was or what lengths I would go to in order to bring my client the justice they deserved. But right now wasn’t the right time to explain it.
I tilted my head toward the front door and Maddie got up.
Cade shook his head.
“You don’t have anything to say?”
I looked at him and whispered, “You’re right, about everything, and I understand.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“So, that’s it?” Maddie said. “You’re packing up?”
It was morning, but my lack of sleep had made it seem like the past few days had all blended together somehow. I was packing, and for the first time in my life, I had no plan. No next move. Nothing. I didn’t know why I was packing or what I was doing, but I had to do something. So I folded and organized. My current method of finding out what happened to the girls wasn’t working. I needed a new one. I just didn’t know what that was yet.
“I’m thinking of going home,” I said.
“Why?”
“I need to clear my head.”
“You’re not quitting, are you?”
“Have I ever?” I said.
She shrugged.
“You’re running away. It’s what you do when things like this happen.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it is. How long did it take you to return to your hometown after you graduated? And even then, you’ve only been back twice: once for your aunt’s funeral and just recently to solve a murder.”
I flung a folded shirt into the suitcase, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist refolding it and lining it up with the others later. “Getting my head clear is not the same thing as running away. I don’t bail on my cases. I don’t need a lecture, Maddie. Not from you. Not today.”
“Sloane, listen to me.”
I folded a few more items and tossed them in.
Maddie stood in front of the suitcase, blocking me. “Will you stop for a minute and listen to me, please?”
I didn’t want to, but I did anyway.
“You have the ability to push past all this,” she said. “You’ve never backed down from a case before. Mrs. Tate is dead, Cade yelled at you, you haven’t had any new leads in a few days, and you’re under pressure. Part of it is probably because you’re worried that when you find these girls, they won’t be alive. I know it’s hard. But you can’t leave, not now.”
“I’m not backing down. It’s just…I’ve never had a case like this. It’s not going anywhere. I feel like all I’m doing is letting people down. It’s not who I am, Maddie.”
“All you need is one break,” she said. “Just one. Who knows? Maybe you’ve already set something in motion and you don’t even know it yet.”
“I honestly don’t know where to go from here, Maddie,” I said. “The children are ghosts in the wind. I have no idea how to find them—not even with the few new leads I have.”
“You know why you’re feeling this way, right?”
I shrugged. She continued.
“You haven’t had any sleep, sweetie.”
“I don’t have time to sleep.”
“Sure you do. Stop arranging your already-organized suitcase and lie down and rest for a few minutes. Clear your head. You’ll thank me later.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
Maddie flipped the lid of my suitcase closed. “It wasn’t a suggestion. The Sloane I know doesn’t back down from anything. So you’re getting in that bed, and when you wake up, we can talk about where to go from here.”
I took her advice, changed clothes, and snuggled up next to Lord Berkeley. It felt good to shut down, and this time, my body allowed it. When I woke several hours later, it was dark outside. Maddie was in the living room talking to someone. Her voice was low, and I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I swept my hair back into a ponytail, pulled some pants on, and opened the door. To my surprise, Cade and Maddie were sitting at the table, chatting like they’d been friends for years. His snub from a few nights before at the bar seemed to have been long forgotten.
“Cade came by to see you,” Maddie said. “But I’ve kept him a lot longer than he bargained for.”
I looked at him. “Why?”
“We can discuss it tomorrow,” he said, “when I take you to breakfast.”
“Why don’t we talk about whatever it is now?”
He glanced at his phone. “Because it’s almost midnight, I’m tired, and it can wait.”
“How long have you been here?” I said.
“A couple hours.”
Cade stood up and walked to the door.
“I might not be here in the morning,” I said.
Maddie disregarded my comment and looked at Cade. “She’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make sure of it.”
Cade nodded and opened the door, glancing at me before he went through it. “Night ladies.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“When you said ‘take you to breakfast,’ I was thinking more along the lines of a diner, preferably one with a fireplace,” I said.
Cade inhaled the cool mountain air and glanced around at the landscape surrounding us. “I can’t imagine a more beautiful place than this. Besides, you got your very own fire right there.”
He walked to the truck, lifted up the seat in the back, and pulled out a blanket. A minute later, it was wrapped around me.
“Don’t you live in Park City?” he said. “I thought you’d be used to this kind of weather.”
“I have no problem with winter. I just think it’s a
season best experienced indoors.”
He shook his head.
“You know,” he said. “You’re just about the farthest thing from a country girl that I’ve ever met.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what it is. You’re different.”
“Different good or different bad?”
Instead of answering, he stirred some eggs in a thick black pan with a wooden spatula. The more he mixed them around, the more little black flecks of what appeared to be pieces of the pan mingled with the eggs until it resembled pepper. I tried not to make a face and instead wrapped the blanket tighter around me.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” I said.
He placed a finger in front of his lips and pointed across the meadow. “Do you see it?” he said in a hushed voice.
I saw nothing but trees and various kinds of sagebrush. “See what?”
“Here, look through my binoculars,” he said, handing them to me.
I held them in front of my eyes. “I can’t see a thing out of these; it’s blurry.”
He reached over, messing around with a knob in the middle. “You gotta adjust them a bit. Turn this dial until you can see clearly.”
I tried what he suggested and gasped when I looked through the lenses again. The animal was far off, but viewing it through the binoculars made it seem closer. Too close. “That’s the biggest deer I’ve ever seen!”
Cade smacked the side of his pants and laughed so hard I thought he’d fall off the log we were sitting on.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“That’s no deer, woman. It’s a bull elk.”
Woman?
I shrugged.
“Deer, elk, same difference,” I said.
“Actually, they’re not the same at all. Elk are about three times bigger than deer, and their hair is yellow. A deer has brown hair.”
The elk seemed to notice our presence, even though it didn’t seem likely given our distance. It glanced around and slanted its head upward, making a noise Cade later explained as “bugling.” Then it camouflaged itself inside a group of trees. I tried to find it again, but it was gone.