Trinity paled. “I’m sorry. Yeah, when we find her she’ll like it.” She looked at the door. “My mom is waiting. See you.” She scurried away.
Kloe reached out and squeezed Bianca’s hand. The understanding look on her friend’s face brought her back to the brink of tears. Bianca cleared her throat before speaking. “I need to catch Foster and his cult doing whatever it is they do out on that compound. They called it a farm, but it’s a commune.”
The waitress returned. “Is there anything else today, ladies?”
Bianca looked to Kloe, who shook her head. “No, but thanks,” Bianca replied. The server put the bills down on the table and left. Bianca watched the young waitress sashay away as if she didn’t have a care in the world. The sight stirred her envy. How long has it been since I had a moment of peace? She turned her attention back to Kloe.
Kloe’s eyebrows drew together, and her mouth turned down with a very troubled expression. Her gaze never left Bianca’s. “Please be reasonable about this.”
“Were they reasonable when they took her and killed her father? Did she see Lucas die? I identified what was left of the body. Pieces. That’s all that was left. Yes, animals gnawed on him, but no one will ever convince me some animal was responsible. We don’t even have bears this far south. What kind of horror did she see?”
Kloe wiped moisture from her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know, but when we find her those are things she may need to tell us. Maybe she’ll never tell us. We have to be here for her. Getting yourself killed won’t do her any good.”
Bianca sighed. “I know. God help me, I know, but I can’t stop. Finding her has become the only thing that gets me out of bed.” Pity in Kloe’s big brown eyes made Bianca turn away again. She studied her feet to avoid the sorrowful gaze of her friend.
“I love you, B.”
“I know.”
Kloe stood up and grabbed both bills. “This is on me.”
“You don’t have to buy my coffee,” Bianca protested half-heartedly.
“It makes me feel better,” Kloe said. Bianca let her friend have her way. Since she’d taken the extended unpaid leave from her job money was scarce. “What are you going to do today?”
Bianca paused, considered lying, but decided on the truth. “I’m going to go for a hike up to the top of the bluff, Wild Rose Ridge, and take pictures of Foster’s place. I’m not a cop. I can do things they’d never get away doing. She’s there. I feel it.”
“Just be careful. I have a light client load right now. Why don’t I call in today and go with you? Jennifer can reschedule my appointments,” Kloe said.
“Kloe, you hate hiking. No, go to work. If you don’t hear from me by noon, call the police.”
“Jesus, that’s a hell of a thing to make me think about all day,” Kloe replied, anger resonating in her tone.
“I was going to lie,” Bianca admitted.
“You’re atrocious at fibbing, but I almost wish you had. I—just be damn cautious. What if it was a bear? What if one of Foster’s cronies is a serial killer? I don’t like you going out there alone.”
“I’ll be careful and going alone gives me my best odds of getting away with spying. That man must have cameras everywhere, or darn good hearing. Every time I’ve tried to get close, he catches me and lets his creeps chase me off.” Bianca pushed the bangs out of her eyes and slumped in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m trying something new. Don’t forget that my dad and Randal’s dad practically raised us as siblings in those woods. Daddy might have been a pharmaceuticals mogul, but he never forgot his roots or how to hunt. I know my way around the trails.”
Kloe rolled her eyes. “Travis Archer was a prick. Whenever I think of him, I go rage-blind. I still can’t believe your father left everything to that damn wildlife foundation and didn’t even give you enough money to finish college. A little outdoor time doesn’t make up for what he did. All you got from the estate was a box of personal effects and the title to your car. When your mom died, he just changed overnight.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s probably been years since you went out in those woods. Do you even own a pair of hiking boots anymore?”
“Nope, I thought I’d wear heels and my little black dress,” Bianca said in such a sarcastic tone that Kloe raised her eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Kloe grumbled.
Bianca scowled. “Ha, ha very funny. I have Dad’s little Remington pistol in my closet.”
“This isn’t a joke. I hate you going out there alone.”
“I know. I have good reception, even in the woods. I’ve been in that area enough recently to know my phone works, and I’ll send you a text.”
“If you forget, I’m going to kick your ass. Text me,” Kloe said.
“I will. Don’t worry about me.”
“When my best friend is hunting for a murderer I have the right to worry.” Kloe gave her a hug before taking the bills to the counter. The line had died down, and she was able to pay right away.
Bianca left before Kloe finished settling the tab because she didn’t want her friend to see the tears in her eyes.
***
Randal rested his hands on the trunk, sighing. He stepped back and wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm before turning the key. He looked down at the dead body of a young man. He’d never seen the guy before, but when Tobias called, he came. Hate stole Randal’s ability to draw a full breath for a second. He wanted to scream, but instead he calmly took his shovel out of the trunk. He needed to get this done. Dawn had burned off the morning fog and sun was already peeking through the trees. One of these days his luck would run out, and someone would catch him cleaning up after Tobias. He just hoped that day wasn’t today. Kloe would never understand, and if he had his way, she’d never need to try.
“Sorry kid.” Randal turned around and rammed the tool into the earth. “Hell, I don’t even know if you were a werewolf or a human.” His eyes blurred from moisture, but he wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears. His father shot himself in the head when he couldn’t take the horrible deeds anymore which left Randal to inherit nothing but the old house and a blood debt he refused to pass down to another generation.
Three
Bianca parked on the curb in front of her house. Finding the energy to get out of the car took a moment. She walked up the driveway, ignoring the full mailbox. Trudging inside and shutting the door she rested her head against the cool oval glass pane. The house was as quiet as a tomb.
A trilling melody and vibration from Bianca’s phone gave her a start. She fumbled to pull the thin smartphone out of her pocket. Scowling at the unfamiliar caller id, she paused before sliding the green icon forward.
“Hello.” I hope this isn’t a creditor.
“Bianca, how are you?”
“Oh, hello, Pastor George.”
The elderly man cleared his throat. “I’ve meant to check in with you since Lucas’s funeral. I hope you don’t feel this is an intrusion.”
“No, never. Thank you.”
“I—times can’t be easy. We’ve missed you at services. The choir isn’t the same without Chessa’s sweet voice.”
The grief in his tone tightened her throat. She nodded, even if he couldn’t see her, and blinked back tears.
“God is here for you, child, and so am I. The congregation took up a benevolence collection for you.”
“No…” Bianca started to say.
“Please don’t protest,” he cut her off. “Many people miss you at the community center. We care about you.”
She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have enough funds to make the bills this month.
“Bianca, are you still there?” Pastor George asked.
“Y-yes. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You have more friends than you know, young lady. We didn’t just lose Chessa. We’ve lost you too. I don’t have children, but the kids who’ve grown up in the congregation have always felt like family
.” He paused. “Don’t disrespect Chessa’s memory by fading away.”
“She’s not dead.” Bianca used a little more vehemence than she’d intended.
“I pray for her safe return every day, and I pray for your healing. I’ll be over in the morning with our gift, coffee, and donuts. I could use some company before I go down to the office.”
“Aren’t you diabetic?”
“Old men don’t live forever. Don’t tell my doctor, and I’ll make sure you get one with sprinkles.”
She wiped at a stray tear. “Okay, it’s our secret.”
“Wonderful. It will be nice to have company, and I’ll look forward to our visit. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, really, no. I’m overwhelmed.”
“Just know your family at Holy Harmony misses you. You aren’t alone. I’ve seen a lot of good people blame God when they hurt. You don’t blame God, do you, Bianca?”
I blame Foster. I blame Lucas. I blame the whole fucking universe. What’s the point of faith?
But she said none of her thoughts. “No, Pastor.”
Pastor George exhaled. “Good, that lightens my heart. I’ll see you in the morning, say eight?”
“That works. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
He gave a gruff, emotional sounding noise and mumbled a goodbye. Everything made Bianca want to cry, lately, and she let go of a long shaky breath after she was sure the line disconnected. She didn’t have time for the ugly cry she needed.
***
Law Foster looked at his pack. He’d known some of these people his whole life, but right now everyone looked pissed, even his mother. Mari Anna Dutch bounced her toddler, James, on her hip. She appeared the least angry, and so he made eye contact with her as he began.
“I know everyone is getting sick of the Archer woman. I am too, but she’s just a grieving mother.” He turned to look at his mother, Janna Foster. “Any mother who’s lost a child can understand her pain. Tobias has destroyed more families than ours.”
As hurt filled his mother’s big amber eyes, Law ignored the quick surge guilt. Grief pierced his heart as an image of his sister, Joy, stumbled across his memory.
“We just have to be mindful of her suspicion and presence a little longer. I contacted Kane. As much as I hate dealing with him, he’s got our back. We aren’t going to have any issues with the human police. Our pack is proud and self-sufficient. We’ve had our share of problems with Tobias over the years, but right now we need to keep calm and lay low.”
“So you’ll just let the fucking woman spy on us?” asked Kort Dutch. “Humans are nothing but trouble, and I have a family to worry about.” Paul and Ethan, two wolves who supported Kort’s desire to become pack alpha, came to stand behind the enraged man. They both crossed their arms over their chests at the same moment in a motion that would have been comical if this wasn’t so important. “Just let Tobias take care of her.”
“That’s not our style, not even yours Kort; we’re not animals.”
Kort’s angry noise echoed in the small room. His cronies laughed without humor.
Law glared, and the men quieted. “We’re wolves, not killers. We don’t let the moon rule us. Anyone who wants to be that kind of monster is free to go up into the bluff and join Tobias and his savages. Is that what you want for James?”
Kort shrank back just a bit. His pals dropped their arms to their sides and stepped back into the crowd.
Law didn’t blink as he surveyed his people’s reaction. “You are my family, all of you. I don’t like this woman’s threat, but I won’t become a murderer and neither will any of you. We’ve survived a lot of scrutiny in the past.”
A few of his people nodded, but not everyone appeared ready to agree.
Law ran a hand through his hair. “My grandfather left the town pack, because of Kane’s father, and took many of your grandparents out here so we could live apart from brutality and senseless killing.” He paused and waited for a nod or two of encouragement. A few people shuffled uncomfortably. “But I see some of you have forgotten a pack leader blurring the line between morality and his rules can become a threat. Anyone who believes I have the right to destroy a desperate mother, speak up.”
Law stood taller and made eye contact with as many of his pack as he could. “An alpha who doesn’t have a code isn’t a man I want to follow. I won’t throw away my morals when it’s convenient. I’ll die to protect you, but I want to be a leader worth following.” He rubbed his sore neck. His temples throbbed. Saving Bianca Archer was giving him a migraine. At this rate, he’d be lucky if that’s the worst she did to his health.
***
Bianca parked on state land. She got out of the car and grabbed her pack from the trunk before heading to the hiking trail. The path ended right at the property line to Foster’s farm. Up on the ridge, she’d have a good view.
Birdsong and the metallic buzz of cicadas were the loudest noises as her feet crunched on the natural debris-strewn path. A slight breeze ruffled her hair. A few of the trees were starting to change color. She turned down an overgrown path. Nippy air left her chilled, but the weatherman had promised humidity was on its way to bring an evening thunderstorm. The bright blue sky gave no sign of the expected tempest. Dew still weighed down the foliage.
Bianca hefted her pack higher up on her shoulders. A squirrel ran up the tree to her right. Moths fluttered in a sunny patch of late blooming wildflowers. She’d packed a lot more than she normally would for a day trip. If some miracle happened, and she found her daughter, she wanted to make sure she had enough water for them both. She’d even remembered Chessa’s favorite sweater.
Beautiful scenery stretched in all directions, but she couldn’t enjoy the hike. Every step closer to Foster and his people pushed her anxiety higher.
“I’m so out of shape,” Bianca muttered, leaning against a tree. She realized she’d been walking uphill. Taking a moment to rest, she gulped a breath down to slow her breathing.
Sunlight glinted on something in the tall grass. Bianca went over and bent down. She picked up the metal fragment. Chessa’s locket. The tiny metal heart lay in her palm, almost unrecognizable, but the picture of Bianca’s father made it clear this was Chessa’s. The other picture, the one of Bianca’s mother, couldn’t be found. Her heart raced. She couldn’t draw a full breath into her lungs. Chessa never took the family heirloom off. The locket appeared beyond repair, but she put it in the front pocket of her jeans.
Bianca tried to stand, but her knees buckled. Chessa had been up here miles from the crime scene. Her daughter hadn’t just fallen off the planet. Her feet had touched this same path. She fought the urge to scream Chessa’s name. Grief choked Bianca, but she kept going. There might be more clues the police had missed. Inexplicably, the search dogs had led the authorities away from this trail.
Going until she reached the edge of the wooded bluff, Bianca found a break in the neglected old barbwire. Everything beyond the fence belonged to Foster. Bianca sat down and pulled her camera binoculars out of the bag. They’d been Lucas’s. Nature photography had taken him all over the world and yet he’d died here.
Focusing on the large compound below, Bianca snapped some pictures. There were a lot of buildings. She saw the farm had cows and various buildings like a silo and corncrib. Estimating how many people lived there was hard, but she counted at least fifteen ranging from babies to the elderly. In all her years of hearing curious whispers in town about Foster’s family, she’d never heard of them having a religious affiliation. Maybe they’re apocalypse preppers.
Bianca’s watch showed almost noon. Pulling her phone out, she sent a quick “I’m Okay” text to Kloe.
Several women hung clothing on lines and children played nearby. If they weren’t murdering kidnappers, this would be tranquil. A blonde figure in a white sundress about Chessa’s height caught Bianca’s attention. Breath rushed from her lungs, and her heart pounded. Chessa. Thank you, God, thank you! I’m
coming, baby.
Four
Bianca pushed herself up on her knees and leaned so close to the edge a few rocks tumbled down the limestone bluff face as she struggled to get a good look. The woman turned. She wasn’t Chessa. Disappointment surged.
Bianca put down the binoculars, taking a moment to regain calm. She’d been sure—so sure.
“I thought you were going to fall,” said a male voice. Bianca screeched and twisted around. Law Foster stood casually on the path as if he was out for a stroll, but she doubted the coincidence. She glared. He glared back.
He was tall and confident. If he weren't a cult leader, he’d be ridiculously hot. She could see the outline of muscles under his shirt. The man’s sculpted body held her attention. What the hell is wrong with me? His dark blond hair dangled over his eyes in such a casually sexy way she sort of hated him for it. Why can’t he look like a creeper? Get it together, girl. Looks can be deceiving.
His brow furrowed as he looked at her with his cold gray eyes. “Get off my land, Ms. Archer.”
“Give me my daughter back, Mr. Foster.”
“I wish I had her. I’d love to give her back and be rid of you, but we both know I’m not the one who took her.” He regarded her with unwavering and intense demand. His tone softened. “I know you’re hurting. I wish I could help you, but she’s never coming home.”
Bianca’s lips parted, and her brows drew together. “You sound sure of that. I know someone in your commune knows where she is. You’re protecting Lucas’s killer and a kidnapper. Please, just give her back and I’ll make sure they never trace her recovery back to you or any of your people. I swear we’ll keep quiet.” Bianca’s hands balled into fists. Hate rose up and suffocated her. He was the gatekeeper of her pain, and she just needed to find a way past his wall of lies and secrets. “God damn you! Tell me,” she wailed.
The left corner of his mouth turned down, and he shook his head slightly. Regret passed over his features, and his subtle sympathy devastated her. She’d directed too much energy in his direction to be wrong about Chessa’s whereabouts.
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