“How do you think her father’s death and her disappearance are related?”
“I think whoever killed Brandon took her.”
“Is there anyone who would want Brandon dead? Anyone who would kill him for his little girl?”
“I already told you that. Lillian, her mother.” He said it like her name was poison.
“Do you want me to investigate Lillian, or Amy’s disappearance?”
“Amy. But what happened to her has everything to do with Lillian. And Dillon Weaver.”
“Dillon?”
“Lillian’s boyfriend. I think he was involved. I’d like to believe he did it to get Brandon and Amy out of the way so he could have Lillian to himself, but honestly I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What do you think?”
“I think he’s Lillian’s puppet.”
“Puppet for what?”
“For anything she asks. If she wants her husband out of the way, Dillon would take care of it for her. That way she doesn’t have to get her hands dirty.”
“Have you told this to the police?”
Jake nodded. “He has an alibi. And if they suspect anything or anyone else, they’re not saying.”
Winona stored that information for later. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this yet. How to feel about Jake’s blatant animosity. “Tell me about Lillian. What do I need to know about her? For what reason would she take her daughter after killing her ex—”
“They weren’t divorced. At least, not yet. They were separated.”
“So they had a rocky marriage.”
“You could say that.”
“But what’s her motive?”
“Money. Money is always her motive.”
“Did she have an insurance policy on him? And maybe her daughter, too?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d find that out for me. The cops weren’t too helpful. I’m family but only a cousin. They didn’t think that was good enough, apparently.”
“And Lillian has custody of this child?”
“Temporary. They were fighting for custody when Brandon was killed.”
“And Lillian has full custody now that Brandon is dead. So why would she kidnap her own child?”
“That’s a good question. If she does have an insurance policy out on Amy, then she probably means to harm her. If she doesn’t, she probably still means to harm her. Lillian isn’t a motherly mother.”
“Or she wants to make it look like someone killed Brandon and kidnapped Amy. After all, it couldn’t be her, right? Why kidnap her own daughter?”
“I thought of that, too.”
“Where’s Lillian now?” Winona asked, curious to know more about this woman.
Jake shrugged. “Her home, I suppose.”
“Has she been questioned?”
“The cops questioned everyone. Including me. I told them what I knew, what I suspected of Lillian. It’s obvious she captivated them. They probably think I’m the crazy one.”
“Are you crazy?”
Jake’s expression was stoic. She tempered her reaction and continued. “Why are you so convinced this woman had anything to do with her missing child?”
“Because I know her. I know her type. And I know she doesn’t want anything to do with being a mother.”
Winona pushed her plate aside and drained the rest of her wine. She almost reached for the bottle but remembered it wouldn’t be fair to Jake. Eyebrows tapering, he grabbed the bottle and reached over to pour her a glass.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
His eyes twinkled, lips curling. “I can’t seduce you if you’re sober, now can I?”
“How do you do it?”
“Do what? Seduce women?”
Wine shot out of her nose as she burst out laughing. Setting the glass down, she grabbed a napkin. “How do you ignore this bottle of wine?”
“It doesn’t hold any appeal to me any longer. It’d be like you holding a glass of piss. You wouldn’t want to drink it, would you?”
“Well, of course not.” She fumbled with her napkin and set it in her lap. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. Finally, she parked her elbows on the table and eased her chin in her hands in an effort to stay still. “But that doesn’t taste like piss.”
“To me it does. Okay, no, that’s a lie. I’ve convinced myself it does. In reality, I’ll never stop craving it. But it’s not the taste I crave.”
Winona straightened her spine and nodded, growing somber again.
“You started drinking after your parents died?”
Jake frowned at the table, his brows narrowing.
“I’m sorry.” She reached across the table in an effort to reach his hands, but he was too far away.
“It’s okay. I drank before their death. Typical teenage stuff, you know? But afterward, yeah, I feel into a pretty damn deep pit.”
She sat back upright and nodded. “Tell me about Brandon’s parents. Have the cops shared anything with them?”
“His mother is in a nursing home. He lost his father years ago.”
“Did Brandon have any siblings?”
“No. I was as close to a brother to him as you could get.”
“And the cops aren’t sharing anything with you?”
Jake shook his head. “All they say is it’s still under investigation. We’ve had everyone in town get together and search for Amy for days on end, but nothing. Then the cops shut down, like they didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
“It’s not unusual for cops to be silent during an investigation.”
“I brought pictures like you asked,” he said.
“Great. Let’s see them.”
He slid back his chair and stood, grabbing their plates and heading to the sink.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Winona said. “You cooked.”
“I don’t plan on leaving you with a messy kitchen.”
“We’ll do them later.”
“Okay.” He dropped the dishes in the sink and went to the bag he’d brought with him. Dropping the bag on the table, he rifled through it until he found the pictures he wanted.
Jake slid a photo toward her. His forearms tightened, and it looked like it was all he could do to hold onto his control.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to be the one to destroy another person’s life by telling him their loved one was dead.
She looked at the picture. Sadness crept into her joints, weighing her down. She said a silent prayer of protection for this beautiful little girl, but prayer hadn’t helped much in the past. She didn’t hold out much hope it would help this time.
Most people would say she’d become bitter over the years, but she considered herself a realist. A lot of bad, terrible, horrible things happened in this world and they were outside her control. She had to keep herself distant and indifferent. If that meant staying unemotional, that was what she’d do.
“I’ll contact the agency and see what info I can get from their investigation. But otherwise, I’m not sure what I can do for you. We can’t traipse through the woods. That’s hopeless, especially if you think the mother had anything to do with it. And if she did, I bet she’s lying low right now and trying to keep her daughter safe.”
“No.” Jake’s bristly voice pricked her skin. “Lillian isn’t like that.”
“Let’s not forget Amy’s father was murdered, maybe even right in front of her. A mother’s first mission would be to comfort her child, protect her child, hide her child. Maybe whoever killed your cousin is looking for Amy, and her mother hid her away for safekeeping. Maybe she wants the men who did this to think her daughter is dead. And if that’s not the case, you should probably take your eyes off this woman and focus on whoever would kill your cousin. Because they are the ones who probably have Amy.”
Jake didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. Just watching him and his movements, she knew she’d never be able to make him see reason. He was convinced the child’s mother was involved, and
nothing she said would change his mind. She had seen evil and knew a woman was capable of murdering her only child, but if Jake didn’t give her all the facts, no way could she ever track this child, much less find her alive.
“You should know about my last investigation,” Winona said. “After you hear it, you’ll probably wish you’d never wasted your time on me.”
She paused. His face did not soften. He watched her with a steady gaze. She bit down on her emotions. This was the time to remain apathetic.
“I tracked a girl for thirteen weeks and found her dead,” she said. “She died two days before I found her. Raped and brutalized.” Winona closed her eyes, picturing blue clouds and rainbows as remorse hit her with a gale-force wind. She clenched her teeth and thought of birds flying in those clouds, across a clear-blue sky, urging out the memory of Hannah.
Opening her eyes, her gaze landed on Jake, but his face was fuzzy through her tears. Her throat burned as the charred ashes of her memories ripped across her internal scars.
“It was a few weeks after I lost my mom to cancer. My focus wasn’t a hundred percent. After all, the police were looking, too, but the family hired me to help. I never should have taken the job. I still had so much to do with my mom’s stuff and had barely started the grieving process. I wasn’t quick enough. I took it for granted that I’d never tracked anyone who died. All my investigations ended successfully. But not this one. The little girl died.”
“You weren’t quick enough,” he repeated. “Kind of like now.”
Her eyes widened, her blood shot out of her. She felt her face paling under his glare that had softened with regret as soon as he uttered the words.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. Shit.” He leaned back in his chair and brushed his hand over his tired face. “It wasn’t your fault. You have to know that.”
“You know as well as I do that it was all my fault. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said what you said.”
He dropped his hands and looked at her. “I only said what I said to be a jerk.”
“You succeeded quite well.”
He smiled, but the dip in his cheeks didn’t flash to his eyes.
“There was a whole slew of investigators searching for that girl,” he continued. “If they hadn’t hired you, the body might have never been found.”
“Really? Overworked and underpaid investigators who have hundreds of missing children cases a year. Is that why you’re putting your trust in them?”
Jake stood so abruptly he knocked the chair to the floor. It crashed with a loud bang and buzzed through the condo, venting its anxiety after absorbing the tension in the room.
“We’re wasting time now,” Jake said.
“I’ll make some phone calls and see what I can find out, and I’ll let you know what I decide. I still recommend you hire someone else. I can’t devote a hundred percent of my time, and if you want a field investigator to help in the search, you need someone besides me. Too much time has already passed as it is. We can only hope her mother has her and she’s in safe hands.”
Jake’s look turned sour. “If her mother has her, she’s definitely not in safe hands.”
• • •
Thunder clapped a dreadful beat in Winona’s heart. She lay in bed with the drapes open, propped up on pillows and avoiding the day. Lightning illuminated a gray-tainted sky that hadn’t yet opened for rain.
She loved summer thunderstorms, but today she wanted to curl up under her sheets and listen to the rain pound her roof. She didn’t have time for that luxury. A list of activities awaited her, including the decision she’d have to give Jake. A decision she hadn’t yet made.
She’d told him she’d let him know by today so he wouldn’t keep wasting his time trying to make her change her mind. She’d hoped her decision would come to her in a dream, but no such luck.
It would be hard to tell him no again, but a yes answer would be a huge sacrifice.
She wasn’t ready. She never planned to be ready. That part of her life was over now, and she was completely happy tending drinks and helping defenseless animals, even if the urge for something more left her restless. She never again wanted to go through the heartbreak of finding a child when it was too late.
Her phone rang and she considered ignoring it, but she recognized Chayton’s ring and knew his resulting visit would prevail over the thunder if she didn’t answer.
“Hello.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“Naomi said she saw Jake leaving your place around midnight.”
Jeez, she had no privacy around here, especially because her brother and Naomi lived next door. Tattletale.
“Yeah,” Winona said.
“So?” Chayton’s voice told her he expected to be told more.
“So what? You knew we were meeting. We decided to meet here instead. He thinks I can perform some kind of miracle and find his godchild.”
“You’re grumpy this morning.”
“You think?”
“I’m sending Naomi over with coffee.”
“I have my own coffee. I don’t need yours.”
“Mine’s better. And I’m sending her over anyway.”
“Tell her to let herself in. I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
Everyone had a key to her condo. Well, it wasn’t exactly her condo. It was Reagan’s condo, Naomi’s cousin. When Reagan married Garret, Chayton’s brother, Naomi moved in but then hooked up with Chayton and moved in with him.
Winona really did have no privacy.
She showered and dressed. Naomi was sitting at the dining room table with coffee when she stepped out of the bedroom.
“Hey, thanks for telling Chay you saw Jake leaving at midnight.” Winona snatched the cup from the table and plopped her butt down on the chair besides Naomi. She took a sip and, discovering it had cooled considerably, downed the drink. She plunked the cup on the table and swiped her hand across her mouth. “Like we were having a fling and he was sneaking out late or something.”
“Whoa, what I said was nothing like that. Were you having a fling?” The teasing lilt of Naomi’s voice reached her eyes but didn’t bolster Winona’s mood.
“No.”
“Well, that explains your mood.”
Winona narrowed her eyes at Naomi, but her heart was light and full of love for this woman.
“All I said was I that I saw him leaving. I didn’t expect Chay to turn psycho-brother on you.”
“What were you doing out at midnight?”
“I heard commotion. Opened the door to take a peek in the hall.”
“You were being nosy.”
“Well, honestly, I thought you were on your way home. I knew you and Jake had a meeting, and I thought you’d gone to meet him. So I opened the door to talk to you, but saw him leaving your place.”
Winona stood and fixed another cup of coffee. Thunder boomed and she jumped. Her spirit lightening, she laughed.
“Well, we didn’t even kiss, just so you and my little brother know.” She stressed the word little and returned to her seat across from Naomi with the entire coffee carafe and creamer in hand.
Naomi eyed the carafe like she thought Winona was crazy, but she carried on. “Maybe you should.”
“Or not.”
“Why not? You afraid you may end up something like this?” She thrust her hand into Winona’s face, her smile wide and eyes beaming.
“Ohmigod.” Winona parked the cup and carafe on the table and snatched Naomi’s left hand.
“He proposed last night.”
Winona jumped out of her seat and pulled Naomi out of hers, performing a little dance-jump as she oohed and aahed over the ring, and hauled Naomi into her arms. She gave her a big hug and didn’t let go. “That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you. Does Reagan know?”
“No. I’m having lunch with her today and will tell her then. She’ll be furious if she knows I told you first.”
“My lips are seal
ed. Do you have a date set?”
“Not yet. But I hope you’ll be a bridesmaid. I’ll ask Reagan to be my maid of honor.”
“Absolutely.” Winona hugged Naomi again. “I’m so happy for you both. And you’re the only one who can keep my little brother rational.”
Naomi laughed and pulled away to look at Winona. “Sometimes. He’s gotten easier to manage. He’s still having a hard time with your mother’s death.”
Winona nodded as tears filled her eyes.
“I think it’s also helped him learn not to be so hard-headed,” Naomi said softly. “And to appreciate the small things while you have them.”
“I’m glad he got to meet her,” Winona said.
“He is, too. Well, I didn’t mean to get so melancholy.”
Winona wiped a tear from her cheek. “Me neither! This is your time, and we shouldn’t be sad.” She grabbed Naomi’s hands again to do a little skip-jump on the floor. “I just hope you don’t have as hard a time as Reagan did finding a wedding dress.”
“Darling, I know exactly what wedding dress I want. I’ve been in the fashion biz so long, I’ve been dreaming of the day I had a reason to wear it. Do you want another cup?” Naomi grabbed the carafe Winona had left on the table.
Winona sat at the table and grabbed her phone. “Oh yes, please. I’d love one. I’m going to check my email right quick.”
“I’m not good enough company for you?” Naomi teased.
“It’s not that. I’m waiting to hear from Sergeant Lamb.” She’d sent an email to the sergeant late last night after Jake had gone. She’d known him for years and he’d been a frequent contact for her when she worked in Wyoming. He was the only one she knew who might be able to help with Jake’s situation, but he wasn’t on the police force in Jackson, Wyoming, where Amy had been taken.
No email from Sergeant Lamb, but plenty of junk. She opened her browser as Naomi poured coffee.
“How is the situation with Jake going?”
“Not so good. I’m worried that Jake is wasting his time here. And I’m worried that it’s too late for him. And I’m worried that—” She stopped speaking when she saw Amy’s picture on her browser’s home page. She felt her face melt.
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