The Lost Daughter of Pigeon Hollow

by Inglath Cooper

  Owen followed, opening the screen door and letting himself inside. He could hear her hurried footsteps upstairs, the beagle’s click-click-click behind her.

  He waited in the foyer. A minute later, she came back down the stairs, her steps heavy, her expression defeated. He followed her back outside where she sat down on the bottom step of the porch and released a heavy sigh.

  “Did you see who she left with?” she asked.

  “A couple of guys in an old white Buick.”

  “Eddie.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend.”

  “I take it you didn’t know about this?”

  “She was threatening to leave, but she said she wouldn’t go tonight.”

  “Teenagers.”

  “Look, Owen. I can’t go with you. Not now. I’m sorry about…your friend. But I have responsibilities here.”

  Wondering if he were crazy to make the offer, Owen forged on before he had time to consider whether it made any sense. “Do you know where she is?”

  “I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “Okay. So here’s the deal. Go pack your stuff, and we’ll pick up your sister. She can go with us.”

  Her eyes widened at the suggestion. “I don’t think she will.”

  “This guy she left with. I take it you’d rather she hadn’t left with him?”

  “She doesn’t really care what I think.”

  “Then call it an intervention.”

  “That is crazy.”

  The cell phone in his pocket rang. He flipped it open to Cline’s somber voice. “Hey,” Owen said. “How is he?”

  “I went to the hospital. Natalie is over the top.”

  “I’m heading back, Cline. If she calls again, tell her I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said.

  Owen hung up and looked at Willa. “That was my brother. Charles’s wife, Natalie, she’s having a tough time. I really have to get back. Are you coming or not?”

  Indecision wavered across her face. The soft drone of an airplane engine broke the silence. She glanced up at the sky, then stood suddenly. “Give me a couple minutes. I’ll be right down.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THIS WAS NUTS.

  No other way to look at it.

  Willa jammed clothes into the tired blue Samsonite suitcase she’d inherited from her mother, not giving herself time to think about what she was doing. To do so would be to call a halt to the whole thing.

  Maybe it was crazy, but this man who claimed to be her father could die at any minute. And if he did, Judy might be right. Maybe she would spend the rest of her life wishing she’d had the chance to meet him. To look in his eyes and see if there was truth there.

  She picked up the phone on her nightstand and dialed Judy’s number. This time she wasn’t so lucky. Jerry answered with a growl.

  She started to apologize for calling in the middle of the night, decided she didn’t want to be that nice to him and said, “May I speak to Judy?”

  There was a rustling sound and then a clunk, as if the phone had been dropped.

  “Hello?”

  “You were asleep,” Willa said.

  “Um, yeah. It would seem you’re not into that tonight.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve decided to go.”

  “To Lexington?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, glory be.” More awake now.

  “It’s probably going to be a mistake. But Owen got a call that Charles—this man who says he’s my father—he’s in the hospital. It may be serious. And Katie’s run off with Eddie. I don’t know, it just seems like maybe there’s some kind of timing in all this.”

  “If you’re calling to see whether I’ll take care of the diner, don’t bother asking. Of course, I will.”

  Willa sighed in relief. “Judy, you’re the best.”

  “I’d like regular updates, of course.”

  “Absolutely. Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.” Willa hung up. She had to find some way to pay Judy back.

  She latched the suitcase and lugged it down the stairs. Owen met her at the bottom.

  “I could have gotten that for you,” he said.

  “It’s not that heavy. I’ll be right back.”

  She ran into the kitchen, grabbed a few cans of Sam’s food from the pantry and met Owen outside by the Range Rover where he’d already tucked her suitcase in back.

  “I went ahead and moved your vehicle. Hope that was all right.”

  “Thanks.”

  He eyed the cans and said, “Let me guess. You can’t leave without—”

  “Sam,” she said, looking down at the dog now postured in a perfectly obedient sit at her side.

  Owen waved a hand at the door. “Hop in, Sam.”

  Sam didn’t wait for a second invitation. He jumped in the back seat. As soon as he made sure Willa got in the front, he curled up and closed his eyes.

  Owen started the vehicle. “Next stop, Katie?”

  Willa nodded, her stomach in knots.

  “Directions are all I need.”

  * * *

  IT LOOKED LIKE THE KIND of place where people got shot. Rundown once-white clapboard house. Shutters hanging askew. Front yard doubling as a cemetery for junk cars and their assorted body parts: a stack of old tires, some rusted bumpers.

  Willa had agreed to wait in the car while Owen went to the door. He was starting to think this hadn’t been such a great idea. He’d left his white horse at home in the barn, and he didn’t have a thing on him that could be considered protection except his fists.

  Willa was right to be worried sick about her little sister. This wasn’t exactly the kind of place where a sixteen-year-old girl ought to be socializing.

  No lights on save the single bulb dangling above the front door. Owen tripped over something, then turned to look back. An old car battery.

  He rapped lightly at the door. From out back, a tomcat yowled.

  Stumbling sounds arose within the house, followed by a muffled, “Yeah, what do you want?”

  “I’d like to speak to Katie.”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Are you Eddie?”

  “So what if I am?” Irritation drew the question tight.

  Owen pressed a hand against the doorjamb, studied the less-than-sturdy porch flooring. “I have reason to believe she’s here, Eddie.”

  The door blasted open. A grizzled teenager glared out at him. He wore nothing but a pair of plaid boxers and a set of brass knuckles.

  Owen’s gaze lingered on the latter. “Hey, look, I’m not here for trouble. We’d just like to speak to Katie for a minute.”

  “So you can talk her into leaving? She’s here because she wants to be here.”

  Owen held up a hand. “I know. Her sister just wants to know she’s all right.”

  “Who is it, Eddie?”

  Behind him appeared the young blonde Owen had seen earlier, now dressed in boxer shorts and an Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt, her feet bare.

  “Somebody’s here to see you,” Eddie said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

  “Are you Katie?” Owen asked.

  The girl stepped forward. “Yeah. You’re the guy in the driveway. Who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m with your sister.”

  Surprise diluted the sullenness on her face. “She’s here?”

  “Yeah. Could you just come out and talk to her for a minute?”

  “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

  Didn’t look like this was going to be easy. “Katie,” he said, appeal in his voice. “She just wants to make sure you’re all right.”

  The girl looked down at the mud-brown carpet beneath her feet, a curtain of blond hair covering her face.

  “Time for you to go, okay?” Eddie warned in a low growl.

  “Katie? Just for a minute. Then you can do whatever you want—”

  Eddie shoved Owen backward. “You don’t listen too good, man.”<
br />
  Owen hadn’t been in a fight since his teenage years, but he itched to punch this cocky jerk in the mouth. He restrained himself. Barely.

  “Eddie!” Katie said. “Just stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  Owen stepped off the porch, Katie following him. He looked back. Eddie had disappeared, but the door was still open.

  All the way across the yard, Owen told himself this was asking for trouble. The night hung dark and damp, a few stars in the sky. A dog barked at the house across the road. He’d really been hoping Katie would dump Eddie and decide to go with them on her own. He was beginning to realize exactly how unlikely that was.

  At the Range Rover, he opened the back door. “Get in for a minute. It’s kind of cool out here.”

  Katie looked inside at Willa, then back at Owen.

  “You’re not just here to talk, are you?”

  “Katie—” Willa’s voice held a note of appeal.

  The girl jumped back, turned to run. Owen hooked an arm around her waist, picked her up and plopped her in the back seat. “Hit the lock, Willa!” he said, slamming the door.

  There was a fumbling sound, and then the locks engaged with a thunk.

  Katie yanked at the door handle. “Let me out!”

  Owen’s door was open, and he slid inside. He started the engine and made a spinout U-turn.

  “Stop!” Katie screamed. “You can’t do this, Willa! You have no right!”

  Owen glanced in the rearview mirror. Eddie in full sprint across the yard, a rifle in his hand.

  Owen hit the gas.

  A loud pop sounded from the exterior of the Range Rover.

  Willa screamed. Sam started barking to raise the dead. Owen drove like the devil himself was after them, praying no one had been hit.

  * * *

  THEY STOPPED A HALF MILE or so up the road.

  “He shot at us,” Willa said, still too numb to believe what had just happened. The whole thing had been a mistake to start with. She should have known better.

  Owen got out, walked around to the rear of the vehicle. He got back in, looked at Willa and said, “The bullet hit the bumper. Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Willa unhooked her seat belt, her hand still shaking. She turned to look at her sister. “This is crazy, Katie.”

  Katie sat with her arms folded across her chest, face to the window, her jaw set. “Oh, and you kidnapping me isn’t?”

  “He could have killed one of us!” Willa’s voice shook with anger and disbelief.

  Sam whined, scooted across the back seat on his belly, put his head on Katie’s lap.

  Willa looked at Owen. “I’m so sorry. I never thought any of that would happen.”

  “Hey, it’s over. Let’s just get on down the road, okay?”

  “Maybe you should take us back home.”

  “See Charles, and then I’ll bring you back. That’s fair, don’t you think?”

  Willa looked down at her lap. “I don’t know. It all seems a little out of hand.”

  “Hopefully, that’s the last of the gunslinging.”

  Katie banged on the back window. “Let me out! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Sit tight,” Owen said in a voice that allowed no room for argument.

  Its effect on Katie was amazing. She sat back in the seat, arms folded across her chest, glaring, but without saying another word.

  “Okay. Let’s go,” Willa said, praying that in this case, the end really would justify the means.

  * * *

  THEY DROVE for two hours.

  Katie sat rigid as a statue in the back seat, refusing to speak, no matter how many times Willa tried to engage her in conversation. She had to wonder where they were going and what all of this was about, but she refused to ask. And Willa decided maybe it would be better to wait and tell her once she knew a little more herself.

  Owen drove without talking, as well. He’d turned on the radio to one of those stations that played jazz without commercials. Willa leaned her head back and closed her eyes, suddenly too tired to think about what she had just done and what might be ahead.

  She awoke some time later to a hand on her arm.

  “Hey, we’re here.”

  She sat up. “Oh. I fell asleep.”

  “Katie’s out, too. I thought we could drop her off before going to the hospital since she doesn’t have any clothes.”

  Willa stretched, then turned to check Katie who was asleep, her hand resting on Sam’s back.

  She looked out the window. The sun was just starting to rise, pink streaks highlighting the sky. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “At my house.”

  “Oh,” Willa said, glancing at the pastures flanking either side of the driveway.

  A two-story stone house sat directly in front of them. White shutters framed the windows. Twin oaks, at least a century old, graced each corner of the house. Enormous boxwoods rimmed the perimeter. A walkway curved from the driveway through the yard to the front door.

  White board fencing angled out in every direction, horses grazing on green grass. Several hundred yards away stood a huge gable-roof barn. A man on a John Deere tractor scooped sawdust from a shed.

  “That’s Jake,” Owen said, tipping his head at the man. “He can watch after Katie while we’re gone.”

  Willa ran a hand through her hair, certain she must look like a train wreck. “I can’t just lock her up.”

  “Right now, I’m not sure you have a choice unless you want her to head right back to our young friend Eddie.”

  The image of that bullet zinging toward them was enough to make her nod and say, “Okay.”

  “We can go inside for a minute, if you’d like to freshen up.”

  “Actually, that would be nice.” Willa went around and opened Katie’s door, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Hey, Katie. Wake up.”

  For a moment, Willa saw a younger Katie in her sister’s relaxed features, and yearned for a time not so long ago when she had looked to Willa for everything. Katie made a noise of protest, turned her head to the side as if she could burrow deeper into sleep, then bolted upright. “Where are we?”

  “We’re at Owen’s house. You’re going to stay here for a little while. I have to go see someone, and then I’ll be back.”

  “You can’t just leave me here, Willa!” Wide awake now and indignant. “I could call the police!”

  “Katie, this is for your own good,” Willa said. “Try to believe that. Please?”

  Owen stepped up beside Willa. “You can follow me,” he said.

  Katie slid out of the vehicle, looking wounded and belligerent. She marched after Owen. Willa signaled for Sam to get out, and he leaped across the grass, tail wagging full force.

  She stood for a moment, staring after the trio, feeling as if she’d stepped out of her own life and into someone else’s.

  * * *

  WILLA HAD COMPLETELY lost it.

  Katie could find no other explanation for it. She’d dragged her off against her will and then dumped her in this room with the warning that there was a man downstairs to stop her if she tried to leave.

  As jail cells went, the place wasn’t that bad. What little she’d seen of the house on the way in was like something out of a fancy architectural magazine. The foyer alone the size of most people’s living rooms. The staircase one of those winding jobs with about a million steps.

  The room in which she’d been left was a teenager’s fantasy. A dark wood four-poster bed, queen size, sat in the center of the room. The comforter looked like the big down-filled kind she’d seen in the Chambers catalog they’d gotten in the mail a couple of times, and her bones ached for sleep just looking at it.

  A modern-looking TV sat inside an oversize entertainment center, a flat-screen computer on a desk just to the right of it.

  Katie went to the window, folded her arms across her chest and looked out at the sight below. The barn looked like a busy place. Sleek horses being l
ed out to pastures. A John Deere Gator loaded with bags of grain disappearing inside the big sliding doors at the front.

  What was Willa doing here? How did she know someone who owned a place like this? And where had she gone?

  Patience wasn’t one of Katie’s strong suits. She wanted some answers, and she wanted them now. But short of hurling herself out the window, she had little choice but to stay put.

  She glanced at the clothes on the bed. Boring. Willa had left her with some of her own since Katie had nothing but the T-shirt and boxers she’d been wearing when she’d been abducted.

  No way could there actually be a guard at the front door to keep her from leaving. She reached for Willa’s jeans.

  She’d just have to go see for herself.

  * * *

  THEY DROVE FOR THE FIRST few minutes in silence.

  Owen had set Sam up in the kitchen with Louisa, a round-faced woman who introduced herself to Willa as the “one who feeds everyone around here,” and then to Sam with a slice of turkey still warm from the oven. Instant adoration on Sam’s part.

  Willa’s brain felt fuzzy now with lack of sleep, and the situation continued to grow stranger to her by the minute.

  Owen pushed the upper edge of the speed limit, driving with his hands clasped tightly on the wheel, a deeply worried look on his face. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  He stared straight ahead, his voice somber when he said, “While you were changing, I called Natalie at the hospital. Charles isn’t doing well.”

  Something tight formed a sudden clamp around Willa’s chest. She’d never met Charles Hartmore, would not know him if they passed each other on the street, but already he had made an impact on her life. If only by the very possibility that he might be her father. She turned her gaze to the window and tried to focus on the beautiful horse farms rolling by.

  They drove a few miles in silence before she spoke. “Can you tell me something about him?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, glancing at her. “He’s been sort of an uncle to me. He and my dad shared some business interests. Charles inherited his family’s horse-breeding business. Maple Run Farm is well-known in the racing world. I guess I’ve known him most of my life.”

  “When did he tell you about me?”

  Owen glanced at her. “Just a couple days ago.”