Missing in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 9)

by Meg Muldoon

  After dropping the pooches off with Warren and Aileen, Daniel drove me over to Holly Avenue. Dawn was just starting to lighten the sky when I rapped softly on the door of the small, cheerfully-painted yellow house.

  At first, nobody answered. But then I heard the sound of footsteps coming from within, and a moment later, Tiana appeared at the door in a lavender-colored robe, frog slippers, and with her hair in curlers.

  “Cin,” she said in a scratchy, sleepy voice. “I just got your text. You’re heading out to look for Wes?”

  I was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt for waking her up at such an early hour.

  “I’m really sorry to bug you, Tiana,” I said. “But I wanted to ask if you could help with something before we left.”

  She glanced past me for a second toward the Sheriff’s truck.

  She furrowed her brow.

  “Of course,” she said. “But you’re really going out there?”

  I nodded.

  A look of concern passed over her face, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry to pile on like this,” I said. “I know you’ve got your hands full with planning the wedding and everything—”

  “Cin, it’s no problem,” she said, giving me a stressed smile.

  I pulled out a signed check from my pocket.

  “I was just wondering if you’d be able to meet Andy – the window replacement guy – at the shop later this afternoon at 2? If you could just give this check to him, I’d be so grateful.”

  “Sure thing, Cin,” she said, taking the check.

  “And as far as the shop goes, we’re going to keep it closed until the window’s repaired. You and Tobias will get paid same as usual, though, during the closure. So take advantage of the free time and get some of that wedding stuff done, okay? I’ll be back soon to help.”

  I smiled, and she gave me another small smile back, but it seemed forced. Something was off about it. It wasn’t the kind of reaction you’d expect from a bride-to-be after receiving a few unexpected days off from work.

  She swallowed hard and suddenly seemed to be uncomfortable standing there in the doorway.

  I wondered if it had something to do with the brick going through the window the morning before.

  “How are you and Tobias holding up?” I asked. “You know, with what happened yesterday?”

  I had texted her the night before to make sure the two of them were doing okay – and she had written back that everything was fine. But now, I wasn’t so sure if she’d been telling the truth.

  “Fine,” she said. “Everything’s just fine.”

  I studied her for half a second.

  Her words and her expression didn’t match up.

  I shifted the weight between my feet awkwardly.

  “Is everything okay, Tiana?” I asked in a gentle voice.

  She smiled again, rubbing her eyes.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m sorry, Cin – I just didn’t get much sleep last night and I haven’t had coffee yet. I was up all night worried about wedding stuff.”

  She shook her head.

  “You know how everything’s been a little stressful lately,” she said. “I feel like I’m just barely keeping my head above the water.”

  “You know what? You don’t need this extra thing on your plate,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll just have Kara drop the check off. It’s not a big deal.”

  I’d been thoughtless to come over here in the first place and bug her. Especially after the jarring day we’d all had yesterday.

  “You just focus on the wedding and I’ll—”

  “It’s not a problem, Cin,” she said. “I promise. I have to go downtown this afternoon anyway for my dress fitting.”

  There was still that strange look in her eyes that worried me. It seemed almost as though she was hiding something.

  I started saying something else, asking another question about what was wrong, but then I stopped myself.

  The woman hadn’t had her coffee yet. And if I was in her shoes, an interrogation before coffee would seem like cruel and unusual punishment.

  “Okay,” I said, letting it go for now. “Thanks for doing this, Tiana. I really appreciate it.”

  “Just take care out there, okay, Cin?” she said. “Watch where you step.”

  “I will. And don’t work too hard here. Maybe you should take a spa day or something.”

  “Now there’s a thought,” she said with another small, forced smile.

  “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  I started heading down the concrete path back to the car.

  “Say, Cin?”

  I turned around and looked back at her. But the expression on her face was full of regret – as if she hadn’t meant to call my name, but it had just slipped out somehow.

  She bit her lower lip.

  “Just, uh, just tell Daniel to take care out there, too,” she said. “The county needs him.”

  “Tiana, if there’s something wrong, then please tell—”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said quickly. “Really. Everything’s just fine.”

  She went back inside and closed the door slowly behind her.

  After a moment, I went down the steps of her house and back to the truck.

  I didn’t know what to make of any of it.

  But for now, it would have to wait.

  Chapter 44

  I looked up through the lush pines at the filmy grey sky, sucking in air like there was a shortage of oxygen.

  My legs quivered with fatigue.

  I wasn’t in bad shape. But almost three hours of hiking uphill would probably make most people tired. Especially at the breakneck clip we were going.

  I wiggled out from under the straps of my backpack, and reached for my water bottle in the side netting. I unscrewed the lid and guzzled it greedily.

  “Having second thoughts?” Daniel asked, watching my attempt to inhale the whole thing in one gulp.

  I shook my head emphatically, even though a small part of me maybe was having a doubt or two.

  We’d started the journey out on a Sheriff’s Office-issued ATV at the Lava Ridge Trailhead. But a machine like that could only take you so far out here in the backcountry. At a point, we had to abandon it and set off on foot.

  And the miles since then – most of them uphill – had been a bigger undertaking than I’d anticipated. I was doing a decent job of keeping up, but I knew that tonight would require some round-the-clock doses of maximum strength Advil to keep the soreness at bay.

  Daniel pulled out the topographical map along with his GPS tracker, and studied both of them for a long moment as a stiff, northerly wind ran roughshod over the thicket of white pine surrounding us. Their branches groaned as the last bit of blue disappeared from the sky above.

  I hoped we’d be prepared enough for the storm that was coming. We’d brought rain slickers, jackets, wool layers, a tent, a water filter, and enough food to last us for several days while we were out here. In addition, we also had a Search & Rescue radio we could use to call for help if we found Wes. But the operative word in that sentence was “if.”

  I guzzled down some more water and finally felt my breathing return to normal.

  “So we follow this trail to Big Eddy Lake,” Daniel said. “From there, we’ll do a scan of the lake and the Mercy Face rock formation. We’ll look for any cliff or sheer face they might have fallen from.”

  “Sounds good,” I choked out in a weak voice.

  Daniel’s eyes, bright green from the exertion of hiking, studied me for a long moment.

  “Let me know when you need another break,” he said.

  “Are you kidding? I’ll be running circles around you out here,” I said. “You’re not even gonna see me coming.”

  I started coughing after I said that, the effort of trash-talking all too much for my tired lungs.

  Daniel laughed at me.

  “You ready to start again? Or do you want another minute to re
cover from that?”

  I shot him a deadpan look.

  A few seconds later, we began walking uphill again, with him leading the way up the trail.

  The way I saw it, there was only one thing to do in a situation like this: plant one foot in front of the other and try not to focus on how much farther there was to go.

  “So have you done any thinking about what country you want to visit in Europe this winter?” Daniel asked as we hiked.

  I smiled.

  I saw right through him. He was trying to take my mind off the trail with this kind of small talk. It was an obvious ploy, but I appreciated it, nonetheless.

  I needed a distraction from the sound of my muscles screaming at me to stop.

  Chapter 45

  By the time I got inside the tent, it had been raining for nearly three hours. And despite the slickers and rain pants we’d brought, both Daniel and I were no better than a couple of drowned rats.

  A couple of exhausted drowned rats, at that.

  It had been a long, long day. After arriving at Big Eddy Lake – a pretty, oval-shaped body of water that had an emerald-colored tint to it – we’d spent the afternoon searching around its perimeter, looking for ridges, cliffs, boulders, or anything Wes and Angie could have fallen from. When that yielded nothing, we checked the Mercy Face rock formation area for any sign of Wes, searching around the monolith’s craggy bottom. In the end, though, all we’d been able to find were a lot of trees, rocks, and slick, slippery mud.

  It’d been frustrating, but I knew that Daniel wouldn’t quit that easily. Tomorrow was a new day, and at first light, we’d start the search again.

  I shivered, changing out of my wet clothes into a pair of fleece pajamas that had miraculously stayed dry in the backpack. I was sure they weren’t going to stay that way through the morning, however. Already, some water had started to seep in at the edges of the nylon tent, and I knew from my experience camping that when it rained this hard, it was nearly impossible to keep water out.

  The front flap of the tent opened and Daniel stepped in, carrying a couple of blue tin mugs filled with steaming coffee. He handed me one of them and pushed back the hood of his slicker.

  He was completely drenched.

  “Thank you,” I said, never more grateful for a cup of hot liquid in my whole life.

  “Sorry it took so long,” he said. “It was hard keeping the stove going in this weather.”

  I took a sip. The coffee tasted strong and good, and though I usually couldn’t handle caffeine at this hour because it kept me wide awake, I had a feeling that even if I had six more cups of this coffee tonight, I’d still sleep like a submerged log.

  Daniel set his own mug down and I handed him some dry clothes. He started changing, taking off his shirt and revealing his lean body in the glow of the flashlights.

  “You know what I could really go for right about now?” he asked, pulling a sweater over his head and moving his shoulders through it.

  “What?”

  He pulled the sweater down, then ran a hand through his dark hair, wringing out the water.

  “A barbecue blue cheese burger, sweet potato fries, and for dessert, a slice of your Peach Blueberry Pie. The one that you made for me when we got engaged.”

  I smiled, feeling my stomach grumble with the description.

  “It’s funny how that is,” I said. “We haven’t been out here that long. But there’s just something about knowing you can’t get that food where we are that makes you dream of it.”

  He smiled, reclaiming his mug of hot coffee and taking a sip.

  “Will you make that pie for me when we get back?” he asked.

  “Of course I will,” I said. “But, for the time being…”

  I rifled around in my backpack and found a tin of cashews, a few energy bars, and a bag of dried apples.

  “I thought for a second you were going to go all Houdini there and pull out that Peach Blueberry Pie,” Daniel said, looking a little deflated.

  “I’m afraid I left all my good magic tricks at home,” I said. “But come to think of it, I might have one up my sleeve.”

  I reached into the bottom of the bag, finding the small Tupperware container I’d stuffed in there earlier that morning.

  Daniel’s eyes grew wide when he caught sight of what was inside.

  “It’s not Peach Blueberry,” I said. “But hopefully this Caramel Apple Cider Pie will do.”

  His face broke out into a bright grin.

  “Cinnamon Anne Peters?”

  “Yes, Daniel Brightman.”

  “You’re one in a million.”

  I smiled.

  “I know,” I said.

  We shared the two slices of pie and finished our coffee as the sound of the rain pelting against the tent overhead grew louder and became more intense.

  “This amazing pie aside, it’s a damn miserable night, isn’t it?”

  I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

  “You could say that again.”

  “But I’m real glad I don’t have to spend it alone out here, Cin,” he said. “I, really, uh, I appreciate you coming out here with me. I know today wasn’t easy.”

  “Does that mean you admit that I was right about me coming out here?”

  He smiled.

  “You’ve always got to have the last word, don’t you?” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “All right, Mrs. Brightman,” he said. “For the record, you were right. Satisfied?”

  I scooted across the hard tent floor and cuddled up beside him.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  The rain pounded even harder against our small tent, and for a second, I became afraid that the nylon would cave in under the weight of it.

  “We’ll have more luck tomorrow,” I said over the roar, looking up at him in the dim light.

  “I think you’re right,” he said, nodding.

  But I could tell that he wasn’t so confident. And though I tried to sound optimistic, neither was I.

  I drifted off less than an hour later, curled up in my sleeping bag which was already wet at the bottom.

  The last thing I saw before falling asleep was Daniel on his side, poring over a Xerox copy of the Christmas Flynn letter by flashlight.

  Chapter 46

  His eyes felt heavy and his body was cold. A blistering wind blasted up through the darkness, causing him to shudder terribly. Soon, though, he wouldn’t feel it. The numbness that had taken his feet and his legs would quickly take the rest of him. And he wouldn’t feel anything bad anymore.

  He clutched onto the saddlebag, whispering out loud into the darkness.

  “Love is at the core, Lillian. Love is at the core.”

  He’d sent the letter a week earlier, having the feeling that something like this might happen. He didn’t know at the time that those would be his last words to her. But they were good words. And it was fitting, now that he thought of it, that they would be the final ones.

  In them contained everything she needed to know.

  Hallucinations filled the small space.

  Lillian, under a hot summer sun, looking out from the porch with the boy.Her face red from crying. The boy, who already looked so much like him, standing next to her. Clutching her hand.

  Never to really know his true father.

  Leonard should have gone back. He should have quit this nonsense. He should have never left her in the first place.

  She and the boy were all that mattered. This other life, the one he’d built thinking he was some crusader, was all just an excuse to not do the right thing – the thing he should have done long ago.

  He should have made her marry him. He should have never let her go. He should have been a farmer, if that’s what she’d wanted. Anything, as long as he had her to call his own.

  But there was always something in him that couldn’t be tied down or broken. A part of him that won out. That foolish, obstinate part of him that led right here to thi
s moment. To the end. As far away from her warm, loving arms as he could have ever gotten.

  Love is the light in the darkness. Love is at the core. Love is at the core.

  She would understand the words he’d written. Lillian was a smart woman. She’d realize that the words held a double meaning. And one day, when the dust settled, he hoped that she would find this hiding place.

  She’d find him too, here. Among the rocks.

  The body of a fool who didn’t know the real secret of life until it was too late.

  Love is at the core...

  Chapter 47

  I woke up shivering hard.

  Between the soreness from hiking the day before, the wet sleeping bag, and the cold, hard ground that had served as my bed for the last five hours, every muscle in my body was crying.

  I let out a soft groan.

  On top of that, my fingers and toes had turned to ice cubes.

  What I wouldn’t have given to be back in my own bed right now with the pooches. Beneath our thick down comforter, where it was warm and soft and inviting. And most importantly, dry.

  I wiggled my toes and fingers, trying to regain feeling in them. I glanced over my shoulder – Daniel was facing the opposite side of the tent, so I couldn’t see his face. But his back rose and fell with heavy breaths – he was still asleep.

  I sat up in my sleeping bag, the shivering intensifying as a rush of cold air wound its way along my back.

  I felt as old and stiff as the Mercy Face rock formation.

  Growing up in Central Oregon, I’d had more experience camping than most folks. And with a grandfather like Warren who loved fishing and the outdoors, I’d had more experience than even most Central Oregonians when it came to this region’s pastime. But it had been a long while since I’d spent a night out in the woods, and I’d forgotten just how miserable it could be to wake up soaked in a cold tent.

  The only solution was to get the blood flowing again.

  I unzipped my sleeping bag, stood up, taking in a sharp breath as more frigid air hit me. I went over to the backpack and fished out another layer of fleece. I threw it over my head and wormed my way into it, shivering some more as the wet clothes touched my skin.