by Dan Padavona
5:40 p.m.
“You’re becoming quite the chef, LeVar.”
Thomas stabbed his fork into the last bite of salmon, swallowed, and gave a contented sigh. LeVar had pan-fried the salmon in lemon and garlic, garnished the entrée with herbs, and plated it with whole grain rice. LeVar broke off a chunk and tossed it to Jack, the lost dog Thomas had found in the state park last month. Thomas theorized Jack was a Siberian Husky. But the dog seemed too large for a puppy. Jack snapped the fish out of the air and swallowed the treat in one gulp. His tail thumped as he moved his head between LeVar and Thomas, hoping for another handout.
When LeVar grabbed Thomas’s plate, Thomas raised a hand.
“I’ll clean up, LeVar. You did all the cooking.”
“I don’t mind. You let me use the kitchen and hang out in the house. Helping is the least I can do.”
“You’ve been invaluable. The remodeling project on the guest house is almost finished. You helped me put on a new roof, and you’re ten times the cook I’ll ever be.”
“Aight, dawg. Don’t say I didn’t ask.”
“Why don’t you take Jack outside and let him run off some steam. He’s been locked inside all day.”
“I got you covered. Come on, Jack.”
LeVar opened the sliding glass door, and Jack followed him across the deck as Thomas filled the sink with dishwater. Since he’d found Jack, the dog hadn’t needed a leash, unless Thomas took the dog to the veterinarian for a checkup. Remembering caused the corner of his mouth to quirk into a smile. The veterinary technician, a young woman with caramel hair wrapped in a bun, had taken one look at Jack and covered her chest.
“You found this dog in the wild?” she’d asked as she led Jack to the examination room.
“A half-mile from my house.”
“I don’t think this is a Siberian Husky.”
“He has to be. Look at the coat.”
The technician shook her head.
“He’s a crossbreed of some sort. If it didn’t sound crazy, I’d say this dog is a…”
She stopped when the doctor entered the room.
Outside, LeVar tossed a tennis ball across the property. The ball bounced into the Mourning family’s yard, where Jack snapped the ball between his massive jaws and sprinted back to LeVar. As Thomas rinsed the dishes, a knock on the deck door brought his head around. Naomi Mourning waited at the glass. Thomas waved her inside. Last month, Thomas agreed to take over the family business, a project management and collaboration firm that specialized in turning around the fortunes of small businesses. Thomas’s first order of business at Shepherd Systems was hiring Naomi to run daily operations. Before the job offer, Naomi had bounced between part-time jobs, struggling to pay Scout’s medical bills.
“Jack is full of it this afternoon,” Naomi said as she waved to LeVar.
“I should pay someone to walk him while I’m at work. The problem is, I doubt I’ll find anyone willing to take the job.”
“Jack’s a handful.”
“He’s gentle. But nobody would believe it at first glance.”
Naomi rubbed her arm and cast a cautionary glance at the yard.
“May I talk to you about something?”
Thomas hung the dishrag over the faucet and dried his hands on the towel.
“Sure. Have a seat.”
At forty-one, Naomi had the complexion of a woman twenty years younger. Her brunette hair dangled in a ponytail, and she wore red running shorts and a gray tank top that accentuated her fit body.
“Before I say anything, thank you again for offering me the job at Shepherd Systems.”
Thomas swallowed.
“You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“No, I love it there. The people are wonderful, and your mother is warming up to me. Not to mention your generosity saved us from bankruptcy.”
Thomas had worried over his mother accepting Naomi. His parents, Mason and Lindsey Shepherd, had battled Thomas since he returned to Wolf Lake, pressuring him to quit the sheriff’s department and take over the business. Mason’s lung cancer progressed each month, and Thomas accepted his father wouldn’t be around a year from now. The reality pierced his heart.
“So what’s the problem? If you need more time to care for Scout, I’ll see to it.”
Naomi straightened her shirt and set her palms on the table.
“Thomas, there’s a rumor at the office that we’re…” She chewed the corner of her mouth. “Together.”
Thomas coughed. Since his failed reunion with Chelsey, he’d spent more time with Naomi and Scout.
“That we’re dating?”
“Yes. I’m afraid people will get the wrong impression.” Naomi twirled her hair around her finger. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a terrific person, and under different circumstances…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say it. If anyone mentions the rumor to me, I’ll squash the idea. Is everything else all right? You seem distracted.”
Naomi tilted her head.
“I’m talking to Glen again.”
Glen was Naomi’s husband. They’d separated after the collision that left Scout crippled. According to Naomi, Glen blamed himself for the accident, though a tractor trailer had struck their vehicle from behind. Thomas hadn’t met Glen, who worked in Ithaca for the local electric and gas company. He wondered why a father would turn his back on his wife and daughter, no matter how guilty he felt.
“That’s encouraging. Does Scout know?”
“Not yet. I don’t want to get her hopes up. I wanted you to know in case Glen stops by, and you’re worried about the stranger knocking on our door.”
Thomas smiled.
“So you don’t want me to don my sheriff’s hat and grill him.”
Naomi’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“That might be amusing. I just need time to figure things out and see where Glen’s head is at. Until I’m certain he’s ready to be a father again, I don’t want him around Scout. She’s experienced too much disappointment in her life.”
“I understand.” Thomas glanced at the refrigerator. “You want anything to eat or drink? We have a leftover salmon fillet. Another LeVar masterpiece.”
Naomi rubbed her belly.
“I would, except I ate a bowl of pasta. That reminds me. Are you holding the cookout after work tomorrow?”
“Sure. You’ll be there, I hope.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world. I worried you’d be too busy with the investigation.”
“So you read about the state park.”
Naomi cast a worried glance over her shoulder. The park loomed over the ridge, the distant falls hidden behind the trees.
“Should we be worried, Thomas?”
He shook his head.
“The bones were in the park for several years. Whatever happened, it was a long time ago.”
“And you think it’s that teenager who disappeared six years ago?”
“I hope not. But if it is Skye Feron, I need to prove it. Her parents deserve closure.”
Jack padded across the deck and waited at the deck door as LeVar jogged up the steps. LeVar slid the door open and leaned in the entryway, out of breath.
“Jack running you ragged?” Thomas asked.
“I need you to follow me,” LeVar said. “Someone broke into the guest house.”
* * *
Thomas knelt inside the entryway and ran his finger along the frame.
“You’re certain you didn’t leave the door open?”
LeVar shook his head, swinging his dreadlocks back and forth.
“Naw, I always lock the place. Just like you told me.”
“There’s a warp in the frame. That could be from the heat and humidity.” He stood and twisted the knob, then he shone a flashlight over the lock, searching for signs someone picked the locking mechanism. He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s walk through the house. Tell me if anything is missing or out of place.”
Thomas f
ollowed LeVar down the hall. The teenager opened the bathroom door and poked his head inside. Then he pulled the closet door open and ensured none of his clothes were missing. As LeVar went through his belongings, Thomas squeezed past and wandered to the sitting room where an expansive window offered a picturesque view of Wolf Lake. This was his favorite place to sit when he stayed with his aunt and uncle. Sometimes, he’d forgo his bed and rest in the chair so he could fall asleep to the boats crossing the lake and the stars reflecting off the water. He checked the floor, searching for dirt the thief might have tracked in. If there was a thief. Maybe LeVar forgot to lock the house, or the wind blew the door open.
He’d convinced himself LeVar had made a mistake before he found the muddy shoe print on the floor.
CHAPTER TEN
Wednesday, August 11th
9:25 a.m.
Justine Adkins couldn’t stop trembling. Over her latte, she watched the door as faces she didn’t recognize judged her from across the coffee shop. Sitting in the back, she’d hoped to avoid attention. But a solitary woman shaking as if the ground rolled beneath her feet drew attention. Her face reflected in the polished table. Curly auburn hair hung past her shoulders, and a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop her head.
Where was Paige? Justine glanced at the time and gave her former friend until nine-thirty before she left. Coming here was a mistake. Wolf Lake wasn’t home and hadn’t been for seven years, a full year before Skye disappeared.
Justine snatched an artificial sweetener off the table and read the packet. Then she tapped the corner of the packet against the table and eyed a couple strolling past the window. Three more minutes. That’s all Paige deserved.
Closing her eyes, she drained the latte and wiped her face. She tossed the napkin into the trash container, checked the clock again, and gave up. Fate warned Justine to leave while she had a chance. In fifteen minutes, she’d be on the highway with Wolf Lake and all its unwanted memories in the rear-view mirror.
As she rose from the chair, a blonde woman with hair past her shoulders hurried across the sidewalk. Too late. Justine should have fled after Paige failed to show at nine. The bell rang, and every guy in the cafe swung their gazes at Paige. Though Justine hadn’t seen her old friend since high school graduation, she would have recognized the woman anywhere. High cheekbones, a button nose, and sea-green eyes that commanded attention. Paige had put on several pounds since school. Yet she still possessed the long, sleek legs of a cheerleader. Paige stopped in the doorway and scanned the room.
Please don’t recognize me, Justine thought. Justine’s heart lurched when Paige’s eyes locked on her.
“Oh, my God,” Paige said, pulling Justine into an embrace. Justine patted Paige’s back, unsure what to do with her hands. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Traffic was terrible this morning. I got behind one of those buses for old people. Some biddy took three minutes to climb down the steps. I was ready to scream. I mean, if you’re that old, you shouldn’t go out anymore. Were you here long?”
“Since nine.”
Paige fell into the chair opposite Justine’s and tossed her hair over her shoulders.
“Why didn’t you call? I would have come sooner.”
“Because you said you’d meet me at nine.”
“Did I? I thought I said nine-thirty.” Paige waved a hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is you’re here. It’s been so long.”
Again Paige rounded the table and hugged Justine, burying Justine in her hair. Paige’s perfume made Justine’s eyes water.
“Where are you staying?”
Justine fiddled with the sweetener packet and stared at the table.
“At a bed-and-breakfast outside Kane Grove.”
“Why not in Wolf Lake? The resort hotels are gorgeous.”
“I got a better deal out of town.”
Paige set her hands on the table, and Justine couldn’t prevent her eyes from searching for a ring. Though the blonde had just turned twenty-three last month, Justine half-expected to see a shiny diamond on Paige’s finger. Paige struck Justine as someone who’d marry a rich guy after college and live off her husband’s income.
“So, I haven’t seen or heard from you in years. Where have you been hiding yourself?”
Paige had Justine’s phone number, but Justine blocked Paige on social media. Nothing personal, but she’d blocked every name she recognized from Wolf Lake. She didn’t want the memories.
“I’m still outside Rochester.”
“You’re only ninety minutes away. Why don’t you ever visit?”
The girl behind the counter glared at Justine as though she were an outsider in hostile territory. And perhaps she was. Justine looked at her phone.
“Work keeps me busy. If you don’t mind, I’m supposed to meet my cousin at ten-thirty.”
That was a lie. Though Justine’s parents still lived in Wolf Lake, most of her family had scattered over the years.
“You just got here, and you’re already running off.”
“Paige, we’re here for one reason. Are we going to talk about it?”
Paige pulled her lips tight and drummed her nails against the table. After a moment, she sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“I don’t know what to make of the newspaper article. What if it’s her?”
Justine set her chin on her fist.
“Maybe it’s not Skye.”
“The newspaper said it’s a female in her teens or early twenties. We were eighteen when Skye vanished.”
Justine stared into her empty mug, wishing she had another latte. Not because she was thirsty. She needed something to distract her, ground her, convince Justine the world wasn’t spinning too fast for her to hang on.
“All the police said is they found a girl’s remains. For all we know, Skye might have left Wolf Lake. She didn’t like it here.”
Paige widened her eyes and fell back in her chair.
“Didn’t like it here? Skye was the most popular girl in high school.”
“No, Paige. You were the most popular girl at Wolf Lake High. And Skye wasn’t happy. She told me many times she couldn’t wait for college, that she’d leave and never come back.”
“Are you sure that’s not you you’re talking about? You graduated high school and fell off the face of the earth. And anyway, why would Skye want to leave?”
Justine glared at Paige through the tops of her eyes.
“You know why.”
Paige scrunched her brow.
“Wait, are you talking about Dawn?”
“Shh,” Justine said, leaning over the table. Everyone was staring at them now. “Keep your voice down.”
Paige’s jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe you still think we had something to do with that. It’s terrible what happened. But Dawn Samson was crazy, Justine. C-R-A-Z-Y.”
Justine turned away.
“Only because we made her that way.”
“You can’t make someone kill herself.” Justine winced at Paige’s words, wishing her friend would lower her voice. “Suicide is a selfish act. Killing yourself only hurts the ones around you. It shouldn’t have surprised anyone. Dawn was such a bitch.”
Justine’s blood boiled. Suddenly, she was a teenager in high school again, angry and scared. She wanted to reach across the table and slap the taste out of Paige’s mouth.
“You made Dawn’s life a living hell.”
Paige’s brow creased.
“That’s a bit melodramatic, Justine. The girl couldn’t take a joke.”
“When does joking cross the line to bullying?”
“Everybody gets bullied, dear. It’s part of growing up. Either you fight back, or you learn to laugh it off. We were just having fun.”
If only that were true. Justine cringed at unwanted memories. The notes Paige stuffed into Dawn’s locker, calling her ugly and fat, threatening she’d beat up Dawn after school. During their sophomore years, Paige and half the che
er team cornered Dawn beside the tennis court. Justine hated herself for not intervening. Outnumbered, she couldn’t have prevented the beating. But she only had herself to blame for not speaking up and snitching on her friends. Had Skye been there, she would have stood up for Dawn and made things right.
“Fight back,” Paige kept saying, each time she slapped Dawn across the face.
The slaps left red welts on the girl’s face and drew tears. Had Dawn fought back and held her own, the other girls would have jumped in. Dawn never stood a chance. The bullying began years before and worsened as the girls grew older. To this day, Justine couldn’t remember how it started, or why Paige targeted Dawn. Was it a perceived slight? Or was it predatory—the pack identifying a weaker, injured member and eating their own?
“You were terrible to her,” Justine said. “If I’d stepped in, none of this would have happened.”
Paige’s face froze in shock. A thousand pounds fell off Justine’s shoulders, and her heart hammered, as if she’d just run a marathon. She’d waited too many years to tell Paige she’d been wrong. Coming here today, she never believed the words would leave her lips.
“None of what would have happened?”
“Dawn killing herself, Skye disappearing.”
Paige slapped her hand against the table. Justine flinched. Until now, she’d forgotten how Paige controlled conversations. Even with a master’s degree and a high-paying job, Justine still felt beneath Paige. Yet she cared about the woman and had since Skye, Paige, and Justine became inseparable friends during grade school.
“Dawn’s suicide has nothing to do with Skye vanishing. And it’s like you said. The bones probably aren’t Skye’s.”
Drawing in a breath, Justine said, “If we didn’t believe there was a chance it’s Skye, neither of us would be here. We have to face this, Paige.”
Quiet fell between the women, each lost in their own memories. After a long time, Paige shook her head.
“I can’t accept it’s Skye.” A tear rolled down the woman’s cheek, evidence she still had a heart. “After we lost her, I convinced myself she ran away after a fight with her parents. Or something happened with that loser she dated.”