Though he wore his hat, Thayne hadn’t fared much better. He took it off and gave it a quick shake to dislodge any remaining water. “Weather can roll in quickly this time of year. It’s probably snowing on the mountaintop.”
Rain pounded the roof of the SUV. Thayne reversed and carefully turned around. He squinted through the layers of water, barely able to see the hood of the car. The windshield wipers squeaked back and forth at a dizzying pace but did little to improve visibility. The glass fogged up inside from the moisture evaporating from their doused clothing.
Thayne switched on the defogger and gripped the steering wheel tight. “We’re probably okay until we hit those rugged sections of the dirt road. If the water’s rushing through, we may end up back at the cabin to wait it out.”
A frown tugged at Riley’s mouth. He reached behind her and kneaded her neck. “Don’t worry. I’ve driven in much worse.”
Unfortunately, not on worse roads than what he feared lay waiting for them.
The wind and rain buffeted the SUV. Riley gripped the console, her hands tight with tension as she dug into the leather until her fingers ached. The vehicle bounded over the rocks before sinking into the growing mud.
More than once the tires spun uselessly, vibrating the entire car before they caught and lurched the vehicle forward. She could hardly make out the terrain through the thunderstorm that hammered the area.
“Will we make it?” She’d faced her share of danger, but nothing matched Mother Nature when it came to her fury.
“The highway’s farther than I’d like,” he shouted. The storm nearly drowned out his voice.
The SUV slid to the left, and Thayne’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as Riley let out a tight yelp. A four-wheel drive wasn’t any good if none of the tires could grip the so-called road.
Her breathing rate had picked up. She wiped away the fog on the front window. The ground about ten feet in front of them seemed to move.
“What’s that?” she shouted.
Before she could say more, the front of the vehicle plunged downward, and reddish-brown water splashed halfway up the SUV’s doors. Thayne let out a loud curse. They’d driven straight into an arroyo, a conduit through which mud and water rushed down from the mountain. “Hang on.”
He gunned the gas, but the SUV stuck to the spot. The longer they were stuck, the higher the muddy water rose, until it was almost up to the window.
The engine started to gurgle. Thayne pressed harder on the gas. With a quick yank of the steering wheel, the SUV shifted direction. The left side banged against something solid. The engine revved higher as Thayne urged the car forward. The right wheels spun, a high-pitched squeal that made Riley’s stomach sink. A guttural sound clawed from deep within her. Suddenly the vehicle lurched forward. The left front wheel caught on solid ground and jerked upward.
Within moments, somehow—and Riley had no idea exactly how—they’d climbed out of the ditch. Thayne brought the SUV to a skidding halt. He let out a labored breath and patted the dashboard. “Way to go, girl. That was too close.”
He met Riley’s gaze, and she recognized the truth there. They’d almost been swept away. She hadn’t allowed herself to think it was a possibility.
“How close?” she asked quietly.
“A few more inches of water, and . . .” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
They bounced over the last several hundred yards where the land hadn’t been carved up by the churning water.
When Thayne reached the gate, he let out a relieved sigh.
“Give me the key,” Riley demanded. “I’ll unlock it so you can drive through. It’ll be faster.”
He winced, but he handed it over. She got out and ducked over the lock. Rain slammed against her, and the sharp wind laced with freezing rain stung her face. Her fingers slipped against the lock, but after a few seconds, the key slid in and she twisted it. The lock popped open, and she yanked the gate open wide.
Thayne drove through, and she secured the chain before dashing back into the car.
Heat pelted her from the vents, and she basked in the warmth.
“It feels like the temperature’s dropped another twenty degrees,” she stuttered through chattering teeth.
Thayne pulled onto the paved road. No more bone-shattering dips, holes, grooves, or bumps. The road felt like they were sliding through warm butter.
“This is more like it.” Riley sent him a sidelong glance. “Next time, can we check the weather before we visit that cabin?”
“I did. Weather here rarely cooperates. Tomorrow we could wake up to a sunny day and have a foot of snow on the ground by nightfall.”
They’d traveled a few miles when Thayne’s phone rang. He tapped the phone icon on his dash to pick up his father’s call.
His dad didn’t bother with a greeting. “Quinn told me you were headed out to investigate the cabin, but I had to tell you.”
“Is Dan okay?” Thayne asked.
“Cheyenne’s giving him an exam, but the truth is, I don’t know.” His father’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry, son. I was wrong. I was so focused on the past I couldn’t see beyond my preconceptions. When Dan removed his shirt . . .” He paused and lowered his voice for their ears alone. “There were more bruises up and down his back. Passing out in his truck doesn’t explain it. I don’t know what’s going on, but something is very, very wrong.”
Thayne whistled softly, and his father told him to hold on. Suddenly Cheyenne came on the phone. “Hey, are you still with Riley? I need her help.”
Riley’s body tensed. “I’m here. What’s going on?”
“It’s Dan Peterson. I have him in the exam room, and his wife and daughter are in my office. Someone’s lying, and I can’t tell who.”
“How can I help?” Riley asked. “I’m not a doctor.”
“No, but you read people better than anyone I know. Someone’s lying about how Mr. Peterson ended up with several bruises on his back, legs, and chest. Until I know for sure, I’m not letting his family near him.”
CHAPTER NINE
The sound of sirens pounded against Thayne’s head, worsening his headache. He’d never imagined the emotional investment his father made on a day-to-day basis as sheriff. In a town of a thousand people, nothing was out of his jurisdiction. Thayne could tell his father blamed himself for not taking Dan seriously.
They’d have to figure it out.
Thayne sped into town past the dress shop, the diner, and the small antiques shop. From a glance, the town appeared sleepy and calm. He couldn’t shake the truth that every answer he found—whether about Dan Peterson or that old cabin—would reveal a shadow lingering beneath the idyllic small town he called home.
Thayne studied Riley. Did she see it? Feel it? From the frown that hadn’t left her face since the phone call, he had to wonder. That uneasy foreboding he experienced—usually before a cluster of a mission—settled in his gut.
She gripped the stack of maps, and he caught her chewing on her lip, deep in thought. He could practically see the wheels churning in her mind, but instead of the flash of insight brightening her eyes, they creased with worry. A long sigh escaped her.
“That good, huh?” he asked. He pulled the car to a stop as an elderly couple crossed the street. His flashing lights didn’t seem to faze them. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat that showed his impatience as they smiled and waved at him.
She picked at the soaked fabric of her pants. “Would you believe all I want is a shower, a change of clothes, and a cup of coffee?”
The couple finally gave them enough room to pass, and Thayne sped to the clinic. “Not hardly, though you’ve read my mind.” His wet clothes clung to his skin, giving him that cloistered, trapped feeling. “What are you thinking?”
“About Dan? I have no idea what to think until I see them.” She winced. “Is it bad of me to feel like his problems are interfering in th
e Jordan case?”
Thayne understood what she meant.
The sooner he dealt with Dan and his family, the sooner he and Riley could try to piece together the mystery of the Jordan murders.
He zipped into a parking place in front of Cheyenne’s medical clinic. Several cars lined the street outside the now-closed office.
“I hate this place,” he muttered.
She lifted a brow. “Scared of the doctor? She’s your sister.”
“Nothing good happens here. At least to me or mine. Broken bones, shots, life-changing diagnoses like cardiomyopathy and Alzheimer’s.” His parents had dragged him to the place whenever he’d been sick or needed a shot. The first time the word dementia had been uttered to his grandparents had been in one of the appointment rooms. Plus, Cheyenne had been kidnapped from and his grandmother attacked in the place just a month ago.
Nope, he hadn’t grown fonder of the building. Thayne appreciated being able to check up on his sister every so often. He probably stopped by for coffee more often than he should’ve since she’d been abducted, but she put up with him.
“It’s an old building,” Riley said.
“The place has been an institution in Singing River for decades. Cheyenne took over for old Doc Mallard.”
“Doctors keep permanent records,” Riley mused.
“Doc’s records go back generations.” He shifted in his seat. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. That cabin’s been there a long time. It had medical supplies, and didn’t you say not all of them were over the counter? I just wonder if Doc knew anything. If he left any records. Or perhaps Cheyenne knows something.”
“All we can do is ask.” Thayne had just shut off the engine when, in his peripheral vision, he caught sight of Quinn racing over from the sheriff’s office.
“We’ve got company.” He exited the vehicle. Thayne met the deputy on the passenger side just as he opened the door for Riley. She slid out of the seat, clutching her evidence bag.
“You’ve got something for me?” his deputy asked, giving their drenched clothes a once-over. “Looks like the mountain wasn’t happy to see you.”
“Flash-flood unhappy. It’s raining at the base of the mountains.” Thayne tilted his head toward the gray streaks fading into the ground thirty miles away. “The storm’s moving north. Tell Alicia to keep an ear out just in case the county roads become impassable.”
“Will do.”
“Hopefully these are a huge break.” Riley retrieved the maps from her bag and handed them over to Quinn.
“These look like copies of the Kim Jordan map,” he said.
“Numerous handmade copies,” Riley said.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble, but why keep maps in the place where it points to?”
Good question. “We need a name, Quinn, and we’re counting on you. Maybe then we’ll finally get some answers.” Thayne shifted, trying to dislodge the clothes stuck to his body. “Run every test you can on the trace evidence. If you have to drive it up to the state capital and sit outside the lab to wait for the answer, do it. We need a lead.”
“Whoever killed the Jordans has tried real hard to cover their tracks. I don’t like sneaky people,” Quinn muttered with a low curse. “I’ll find something.”
Thayne nodded in acknowledgment of the determination in his deputy’s voice. “Contact me the moment you find anything, no matter how small.” Thayne twisted some water from his shirt. “I have my phone.”
Quinn nodded and rushed back to the sheriff’s office.
“If there’s anything there, Quinn will find it.” Thayne turned to her. “Riley, are you sure you’re okay evaluating Dan? It’s not in your job description.”
“He’s a friend of your family. I want to help, but I don’t know if I can. Contrary to what Cheyenne suggested, I’m no lie detector.”
“You’re the closest thing I’ve ever seen. Just do your thing and we’ll find the truth.”
Through the glass door of the clinic, Thayne could see Cheyenne’s receptionist squirming behind her desk, an odd panicked expression on her face.
When he opened the door and followed Riley in, Violet jumped to her feet. “Thank goodness you’re here. Dr. Blackwood-Riverton saw her last patient a few minutes ago, and the Peterson family’s getting impatient. It’s a mess.”
Her gaze darted to the front door as if she couldn’t wait to escape.
Thayne patted her hand. “Everything’ll be fine. Before we head on back, could you bring us a couple of towels?”
“Of course.” She didn’t even have to ask what had happened to them. She’d lived in Singing River long enough to know the weather could be meaner than a bear. She brought them two towels from the supply room. “The doctor is down the hall on the left.”
Thayne passed a towel to Riley, and they both mopped up what they could, but it didn’t help much.
A door’s loud slam ricocheted through the clinic.
“You can’t keep us here any longer,” an angry female voice shouted. “This is ridiculous. You saw the bruises. She’s lying. Of course my stepmother is abusing him. If you won’t help, I’m going to find the sheriff.”
The receptionist winced. “She’s been like that since she got here.”
“Dan Peterson’s daughter?” Thayne asked. This was one part of the job he still couldn’t get used to. He hadn’t realized until becoming sheriff that his father was part lawman, part psychologist, and part family therapist.
The young woman nodded. “Even Cheyenne hasn’t been able to calm her down, and we call her the patient whisperer. She’s like magic.”
His sister had that effect on everyone she met. She could bring calm to the most chaotic situations. Thayne gave his hair one last good rub with the now-damp towel before handing it to Violet and then met Riley’s gaze. “Here we go.”
Riley passed her towel to the receptionist with a quick thank-you and followed as Thayne walked toward the noise. At the end of the hall, Cheyenne’s office door stood wide open.
Thayne planted himself in the doorway. Two women—one petite with salt-and-pepper hair, the other tall and curvy—shouted over each other at Cheyenne. His sister stood behind her desk, trying to reason with them. She caught Thayne’s movement, and her panicked expression screamed help. He’d never seen her lose control of a situation.
He let loose a sharp whistle, and the two women froze. Olivia Peterson’s face was beet red, and her entire body vibrated with barely-held-in anger as she stared daggers at Dan’s wife, who looked haggard, like she hadn’t slept in days.
“What’s going on here?” he asked in a soft, calm voice.
He’d discovered since returning home that his body language could calm the situation more quickly than his weapon. At least most of the time. He stood relaxed, conveying he had all the time in the world. “I appreciate how worried you are, but you need to knock it down a level or two, please, ladies. You sent young Violet scurrying into a corner. If this continues, I’ll have to arrest the pair of you for disorderly conduct, and frankly, I don’t want to do that.”
Cheyenne didn’t try to hide her relief at his entrance. “Sheriff,” she said, slowly and loudly emphasizing his title, “we have a situation.”
“It’s a hell of a lot more than that.” Olivia faced him, her hands on her hips, unrepentant over her behavior. “About time you got here.”
Ten years older than Thayne, she’d been one of his parents’ favorite babysitters when he was a kid. She hadn’t let him get away with anything—and he’d tried. It made encounters like this all the more awkward. Hard to garner respect when she’d ordered him to bed as a kid. He hadn’t thought about her much in years. From what he recalled Gram telling him, Olivia had married one of the Riverton ranch hands and worked at the salon now. Two or three kids. Before the Alzheimer’s, Gram had been the town’s historian. She knew who married whom and what everyone did for a living. Gram was a true peop
le person—something he had to work at, especially on days like this.
“What’s the problem, Olivia?”
She flung her arms wide. “Dad’s new wife is hurting him, and your saintly sister is stopping me from kicking her out of their house.” She glared at Cheyenne. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“It’s not true.” Kate Peterson thrust her shoulders back, all five feet nothing and one hundred pounds of her. “I would never hurt him. I’ve told you a thousand times. He came in from working in the barn bruised and battered like that. He refused to tell me how. Then, when he put on his pajamas, he accused me of causing those bruises. I never touched him. I swear.”
“You’re lying.” Olivia let out a scoffing laugh. “He told me you hurt him, and Dad would never make a thing like that up.” She glared at her stepmother, then at Thayne. “I want her out of his house and out of his life. Today.”
“It’s actually our house.” Kate raised her chin. “We bought it together after we married. I’m not leaving, and you can’t force me.” She turned to Thayne, her expression pleading. “This isn’t my fault. Something’s wrong with Dan. Why can’t any of you see it?”
“Wouldn’t you love us to believe that.” Olivia shook her head. “He’s fine. He’s like he’s always been. His story hasn’t changed, and that’s good enough for me. It wouldn’t surprise me if you drugged him, too.”
The color disappeared from Kate’s face. “Why won’t you listen to me? He has changed. I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“Because I know what you really want. What you’ve always wanted.” Olivia lunged at Kate. “Over my dead body!”
Riley stepped between the women and held up her hands toward Olivia. “Calm down, ma’am,” she said, her voice low and soft.
“Don’t touch me,” Olivia said, even though Riley hadn’t even tried to do so. Olivia backed up and glowered at her. “You’re that FBI agent, right? Why are you even here? This is our business, not yours.”
Thayne could tell Riley had hoped to calm the woman down with her stance and tone, but clearly emotions were running too high. Still, he refused to let Olivia dismiss Riley’s presence.
Forgotten Legacy Page 13
