Flawless: (Fearsome Series Book 4)

by S. A. Wolfe

  Peyton studies me for a moment, torn between defending me and locating Finn. “I’m going to go check on Finn now. I’m sure he’s playing a video game and has headphones on so he can’t hear his phone. You’re coming with me,” he tells me. “Once we know Finn’s okay, we’ll head to Swill.”

  “Really?” Harmony asks. “Are you her chauffeur now?”

  “Today? Yes, I am. I picked her up from the hospital and drove her here, so I’m her ride. Do you have a problem with that? Do you really want me to insist she walk the four miles to the restaurant?”

  Peyton’s anger silences Harmony. She gets in her car and follows his truck.

  Thankfully, it’s a short drive to Peyton’s house because the sudden coldness between Peyton and me is a painful contrast to what we were doing thirty minutes ago.

  “I’ll wait here,” I say as he pulls to a hard stop in front of his house.

  “This isn’t over. We’re going to talk about what was said at lunch, and I want to know what Harmony said to you—this deal business. I’ll be right back. I’m sure I’ll find a nine-year-old boy zoned out in front of a computer game.”

  I exhale in relief when he exits the truck and watch him unlock the front door to let Harmony enter first. Within thirty seconds, Peyton is running out of the house, looking frantically around the property, behind the shed and near the creek. Harmony follows him with fear exposing her vulnerability.

  Alarmed, I jump out of the truck and run toward them. “Where’s Finn?”

  Peyton looks at me, panicked. “He’s gone.”

  Peyton

  HARMONY IS CRYING AND trying to explain something while my mind is racing, thinking of where Finn could be. I’m trying to get in the head of a nine-year-old again, thinking of the time I spent away from home exploring new places. But I was a city kid, and we traveled in packs. This is rural territory, and Finn is out there somewhere, alone.

  I’m dialing Finn’s number again when I see Talia bolt right by me. Her bright telephone bag, that comical possession she takes everywhere, is slung across her body as she runs toward the woods behind my house. I want to yell at her to stop, but Harmony is crying and shouting at the same time. She’s a mother who has lost control of the situation.

  When Talia is out of sight, I turn my attention back to Harmony. “How did this happen, Harmony? You dropped him off and then what?”

  “I dropped him off an hour ago. He wanted to come early and hang out at your place. I thought it would be nice for me to cut my workday short and go shopping at the outlet malls after I dropped him off. I did see him go into the house, and he waved goodbye before he closed the door. And he knows to always lock up.”

  “Don’t you have a GPS tracker on his phone?”

  “Yes, it says he’s here. I was at the mall and kept calling to check on him, and the tracker shows he’s at your house, but … but he wasn’t answering. I’ve called more than a dozen times.”

  I walk back to the house and pull her with me. She rambles on about how she wanted to pick up some of his favorite snacks and junk food and drop them off since he said I don’t keep a lot of food at the house. Yeah, not since Talia dumped me and stopped leaving homemade meals and pastries stocked in my kitchen.

  Tears are streaming down Harmony’s cheeks as we move from room to room, calling out Finn’s name. Harmony’s fear is contagious. I keep thinking he’s injured or unconscious somewhere.

  “What the hell?” I pull out my phone again and call Finn. We hear the phone ringing in the den off the kitchen. Of course, we already checked the room, but this time we see Finn’s cell phone wedged between two couch cushions.

  “Oh my God,” Harmony says when I retrieve Finn’s phone. “He knows I gave him the phone for emergencies. He knows he’s supposed to take it with him always.”

  “This doesn’t mean something bad happened to him. It means he forgot his phone. At least we know why he wasn’t answering our calls.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better about this!” she screams.

  “Panicking won’t help us. Hera is a safe town, and Finn is a smart kid. We’ll find him.”

  “But he always takes his phone!” she shrieks. “Where could he go? You live in the middle of nowhere!”

  “The woods,” I say, doing my best to think like Finn. “He likes the woods and trails here.”

  I run to the door that leads from the den to the garage, with Harmony right behind me. I flip the switch for the overhead lights. Even in the dim light, I can see that Finn’s bike is missing from the wall rack.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “His bike is gone. That’s a good sign. He’s out riding.”

  “Hey, Peyton!” Cooper shouts from outside the garage.

  “I texted him and your sister when I was at the mall to see if they had heard from Finn,” Harmony says.

  “Good call. They can help us look for him.”

  We meet Cooper and Imogene outside.

  “What the hell is going on?” Cooper asks. “We tried calling you to tell you we haven’t seen Finn. It kept going to your voice mail.”

  “We’ve been looking for Finn,” I say. “Harmony dropped him off early while I was out, and he wasn’t answering her texts or calls so she came back and looked for me.”

  “I know they like going to the old house,” Harmony says. “The Pickwicker-something. Finn said they’d ride their bikes out there sometimes. I was hoping he was there with Peyton. I googled it, and my GPS got me there.”

  It’s true Finn and I sometimes bike there. The place makes me think of Talia. I had no idea that Finn discussed so many details with his mother.

  “He left his phone in the house, but his bike is gone,” I explain to Cooper. “I think he’s out on the trails by himself. That explains why Talia took off running toward the woods. She figured it out before I did.”

  “Good. She got a head start on us,” Cooper says. “I alerted everyone else. Sent out a group text telling them to call if they spot Finn.”

  “It’s going to be fine. We’ll find him,” Imogene says in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, putting her arm around a sniffling Harmony.

  “Okay, so we think our little guy is on the trails.” Cooper looks up at the hills looming behind my home with the same concern as me. There is a myriad of trails from easy to advanced to downright deadly, and they cover miles upon miles of rough, hilly, forest terrain.

  “That’s my guess. I don’t know which one he took. We’ve done at least five of the ones that are directly behind my house, but there are three that are definitely off-limits because they’re too dangerous, and he knows it.”

  “Which means he’s probably on one of those off-limits trails,” Cooper comments. He always speaks with a measured, authoritative tone, a leftover trait from his FBI days.

  “I hope he’s not attempting Satan’s Lair,” Imogene says.

  “What?” Harmony asks. “Does this town really have a trail called Satan’s Lair? Are you serious?”

  “No. It’s Harper’s Lair,” I say.

  “Stop scaring her,” Cooper tells Imogene.

  “I’m not trying to. When we were kids, we called it Satan’s Lair because of the gnarled trees that would force us to bike on the edge of the drop-off.”

  “There’s a drop-off?” Harmony asks. “Like a cliff? What the hell kind of town is this that lets kids bike on dangerous trails?”

  “The kind of town that puts up Do Not Enter and No Trespassing signs on the illegal trails to keep people out,” Cooper explains. “The teenagers and older bikers go in there anyway. It’s part of the thrill.”

  “Does Finn know about this trail?” Harmony asks me angrily.

  “Yes. Every biker does. We rode by the entrance when we were biking the Peak Trail.”

  “Should we assume our little Finn-meister is defying his parents and working his way through Harper’s Lair?” Cooper asks. “If we go directly there, it will save us checking all the other ne
arby trails.”

  Harmony gives me the kind of look that says she’s sure this is all my fault for buying Finn the bike and living in a place where kids try to compete with nature instead of playing on a good old-fashioned, asphalt playground.

  “You stay here in case he comes back,” I tell her. “I’ll check out the trail.”

  “Like hell. He’s my son. I’m going with you.”

  A crying Harmony is one thing. A pissed-off mother is another. I’m not going to argue with her.

  “Then I can’t take my bike. We’ll have to go on foot and move fast. Your shoes are going to be a problem.”

  She looks down at the flat, canvas slip-ons she’s wearing over her sockless feet.

  “Don’t worry about my shoes. I’m going.”

  “I’ll go with you two, and Imogene can wait here at the house in case Finn beats us back.” Cooper types on his phone. “And I’m texting Carson to have everyone else search the trails, too. Leo is fast on his bike. We’ll send him to the other difficult trails.”

  I break into a jog toward the woods and scan the hills for any sign that would tell me which direction Finn went. There’s nothing but dense trees, and they aren’t speaking. I wonder if Talia is closer to finding Finn than we are. Her sudden reaction, bolting toward the woods, venturing out on her own to find my son, gives me hope.

  I don’t show Harmony how this fear of losing Finn is searing through me, or that the thought of Talia out there trying to save him is maybe the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

  Cooper and I jog at a brisk pace, following the narrow footpath created by some outdoor adventurers decades ago. Harmony lags about thirty yards behind us. She’s less nimble in her soft, flexible shoes that provide little support, but she has a hard, determined look, so I know she doesn’t mind the pebbles and twigs that must be stabbing the soles of her feet.

  Only someone who is acquainted with the old house I live in and the land it inhabits would know about this private trail that leads through jungle-like terrain before merging into a road that is the access to public parkland and trails for hikers and the illegal, hidden trails made by rogue bikers.

  A lot of brush brought down by the last storm still covers the path, so we have to climb over some high obstacles. On one of the branches crossing our path is a light blue scrap of paper. On closer inspection, I notice it’s a heavy-duty cardstock with some numbers printed on it and a partial address: Hera, NY.

  The paper is freshly torn and doesn’t show any wear from the elements, which means it was placed there recently. I shove it in my pocket and keep moving.

  “How could he have gotten his bike through this?” Harmony asks, catching up to us.

  “He wouldn’t,” I say. “On bike, you ride a half mile down the road from my house and take the public access road up to the park’s information station. From there, he can hop on any legal or illegal trail. This is the shortcut if you’re on foot.”

  “There’s the road.” Cooper points.

  We pick up our pace to a full-on sprint. I hear Harmony stumble and curse behind me, but she’s soon emerging from the trees.

  We look in both directions of the road—no cars—and ahead to the artery of dirt roads marked with state park signs for visitors.

  As we reach the middle of the road, I see another flash of blue paper in the distance, lying against the base of the largest signpost for the state park. It’s another torn piece of the same cardstock. I pick it up and see T & A Services printed on it.

  Cooper peers over my shoulder. “Damn. That’s one of Talia’s old business cards. T & A Services.” He laughs. “She’s leaving us a trail.”

  “Smart woman.” I’m proud of her.

  “How do you know she’s on the right trail?” Harmony asks.

  “I don’t. But I trust her to know what she’s doing.”

  We proceed farther on the public path and find another piece of one of Talia’s business cards along the way. Then we stumble upon a crucial clue—a whole business card at the entrance of a blocked trail with warning signs. It’s Harper’s Lair.

  Harmony retrieves Talia’s card before I can and reads it out loud. “That’s certainly a poor choice for a business name,” she says matter-of-factly.

  It irritates me that she wants to take the time to criticize Talia when our purpose here is finding Finn. He could be in jeopardy, and Harmony is being petty.

  “Yeah, that name was quickly abandoned,” Cooper says, helping Harmony over the metal pole blocking the dirt path.

  “We’re lucky she still has those cards,” I say. “Her little breadcrumb trail is saving us time from guessing where to go.”

  “Or we could be going the wrong way and wasting time already,” Harmony adds.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I shout. “Talia is helping us because you fucked up! You’re the one who dropped him off too early when you knew I wasn’t home yet!”

  “You were the one who bought him that expensive bike and showed him where all these death trap trails are! I didn’t know it was too enticing and that he’d leave your house! He always follows the rules at my house!”

  “Settle down, you two!” Cooper shouts.

  I barge ahead of him and start running as soon as I see fresh bike tire marks. There’s a set of fresh footprints next to them, too. Small feet. A woman’s feet. Talia’s Adidas treads.

  I keep running, and Cooper keeps up, but Harmony is falling behind again. Part of me is glad, wanting to get to Finn first and be declared the better parent. My own pettiness agitates me.

  “Have you ever biked this trail?” I ask Cooper.

  “No.” He slightly pants as we run up a steep incline. “I’ve hiked it and know this is where it gets tricky. I’ve seen guys carry their bikes up this part to get to the top. You’ll see. It’s where they ride their bikes downhill like a giant slalom. They have to take a sharp turn at the bottom. Only the daredevils, the ones trying to outdo the others, will do it.”

  We reach the top of the hill and wait for Harmony to catch up. It’s a biker’s paradise, a slalom that has been molded perfectly over the years by relentless mountain bikers. My gaze follows the thousands of dusty tire prints; mostly disintegrated tracks, some smoothed over by water and wind, but two stand out. Finn’s bike tread and Talia’s footprints.

  Running down a steep hill is stupid, but my dad gene just kicked into overdrive and all I can think is that I have to save my kid. I make it down the course without falling and breaking my neck as I stumble into a nearby tree to slow down just as I reach the deadly sharp curve. Finn’s bike tracks disappear over the edge, and Talia’s footprints vanish with them. And right in front of me, suspended in two large shrubs growing out of the side of the cliff, is Finn’s bike, wedged sideways. I have an image of him hitting the curve, his bike getting caught in the shrubs, and Finn goes flying off it. He’s somewhere below.

  Panic bubbles up in my chest. Please be alive.

  “Shit!” Cooper says when he sees Finn’s bike. He grabs onto another tree and leans over the cliff to look down.

  I get down on my stomach and perch over the edge where the bike tracks disappear. When we hear a rustling sound directly below, Cooper and I exchange a hopeful look.

  “That’s Finn’s bike!” Harmony shouts when she catches up. She’s out of breath, and her pants, hands, and feet are covered in trail dust. She must have fallen when we weren’t looking, but that doesn’t stop her from throwing herself on the ground next to me to see over the cliff’s edge into the tangled jungle of trees below.

  “Finn!” I shout into the abyss.

  The trees are so dense we can’t see through them, but we hear a murmur. Two voices.

  “Dad?” Finn’s voice cries out weakly.

  Dad. He called me Dad.

  “I’m here,” I yell. “I can’t see you, though.”

  “I got him,” Talia says.

  I can’t see her either, but my body exhales with relief that Finn isn’t alone.


  “I think his arm is broken,” Talia shouts. Her blonde head appears out of some leaves along with a flash of Finn’s arm. “I’m holding Finn. He’s on my back.”

  “They must be standing on a ridge. Those can give way at any moment. We need to do this fast,” Cooper says in a low voice.

  “Hold tight. We’re going to pull you up.”

  We hear rustling as Talia struggles to push through some brush. She emerges with Finn holding on to her piggyback style. He has one arm wrapped around her neck and the other hanging limply. At least he has his helmet on—thank you. They’re both covered in debris, their faces smudged with dirt. Talia’s long hair is tangled with leaves and twigs. She’s gripping two, thin tree branches that grow out of the side of the cliff like vines. She looks up, searching for us, and then her eyes go wide when she sees me, and there’s a visceral change in her face from terror to courage.

  “I think Finn also injured a foot or an ankle. He can’t stand,” she says. “He can’t put weight on his feet, so I can’t let go of him.”

  “Hold on, baby,” Harmony says to Finn, trying to keep the tremor in her voice at bay.

  “Don’t move.” I look directly at Talia. “Don’t try to climb with Finn on your back. I’m going to pull him up first and then you. You just hold on to those branches as tight as you can.”

  “I understand.” Talia trusts me to do this right.

  I look over at Cooper, and he nods. He grabs another tree next to me, then wraps an arm around my waist. I move my upper body over the drop. Harmony grabs hold of my ankles to help weigh me down and keep me in place as I hang over the cliff, closer to Talia but not close enough to touch. I find one of the twisted branches and shake it to make sure it’s secure enough to use as leverage. Then I stretch my other arm and attempt to grasp Finn’s good arm. My reach is too short, so Cooper and Harmony help me scoot farther over the edge to the point that if they lose their grip on me, I’ll fall headfirst to the next flat surface thirty feet below.