Never Let Go

by Elizabeth Goddard

  Dawn filtered through the trees and cabin windows, which meant she’d slept late. She rubbed her tired eyes. She needed to figure out why Clyde had driven up the driveway to the house she’d shared with Momma. Charlie’s house now.

  Yawning, Charlie shrugged out from under the covers and began the task of making her cowboy coffee. She used a Coleman propane stove. Easier than a wood-burning stove. Staying in the cabin was just like camping, except she had stacked logs protecting her at night instead of the thin vinyl sheets of a tent. The coffee would take much too long to heat up though. Last night she’d stayed up late, waiting for Rufus to come back and listening to the lack of night sounds in the cold mountain air. She’d eventually fallen asleep.

  Rufus . . .

  A sliver of hope drove her to the door. Would she find the German shepherd sitting next to the cabin?

  When she opened the door and looked out into the crisp morning, disappointment displaced her small hope.

  “Rufus!” she called.

  The dog was gone. She’d thought they were friends. She’d figured he would remain loyal to her, though he’d belonged to Mack, who had given him to Charlie for her protection. Rufus had probably gone back to Mack, unless something had happened to the dog.

  She closed the door and got dressed. She’d search for him as best she could before heading in to work with the horses. Then she would try once again to stop at the house and look through Momma’s things. If she could find out where that trust fund had come from that paid her college tuition, the home renovations, and for a better life, that might give her some answers. Momma never spoke of family—including grandparents or even Charlie’s father—other than to say they’d all passed on from this life. She didn’t even know who her relatives were. Admittedly, Charlie had never cared much about that until now, when she had no one left. If she had someone else, maybe she could share this burden with them and find her mother’s killer.

  Charlie had to take it one day at a time. Be careful and methodical.

  If she hurried and became careless and allowed someone to recognize her, that mistake could be deadly.

  Chapter thirty-two

  FRIDAY, 12:59 P.M.

  BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE

  GRAYBACK, WYOMING

  Willow waited with Austin in the sheriff’s office. They’d arrived three hours ago, but the sheriff had been too busy and kept putting them off. At least they’d been able to grab sandwiches from a vending machine.

  The sheriff spoke with a deputy just outside his door about an ongoing search and rescue involving a couple of teenage boys who had gotten lost hiking. Her heart went out to the families. While she waited, she’d had time to study the photographs of the sheriff with his department awards as well as with various friends and family members. He had had quite a career. Huffing, Sheriff Haines entered the office, shut the door, and sat at his desk.

  “As you might have heard, we got a couple of boys missing, so let’s make this quick.” He whirled around in his chair to a credenza and pulled papers from a fax machine. Then faced them again and scooted closer to his desk.

  He adjusted his reading glasses and stared at the pages. He slapped the sheets face down on the desk as he skimmed each one, then brought his full attention to Willow and Austin. “I want to make this clear up front. I’m helping you for several reasons. One, because I know and respect Heath. He’s made himself a pillar in this community. He’s like a son to me. I’d do just about anything for friends and family. Two, because you were attacked and the note tells me there’s a connection. So while your investigation into the past isn’t my investigation, they’re connected. The sooner you find what you need the better. After a few phone calls, I confirmed the story and the original picture of the abductor. I put it up on our website and sent the image through law-enforcement channels throughout the state.”

  “Since the original picture was grainy, I’m not sure how accurate it is,” Willow offered.

  “That’s a problem, to be sure, and this might lead nowhere.”

  A deputy knocked on the door and stuck his head in. One of the guys she saw at the cabin last night. Deputy Taggart? “Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might want the information.” Without an invitation, he stepped into the office and zeroed in on Willow. “I got a call this morning from someone who claims they might have seen the woman in the picture you sent out. Claims she lived around Clair, a small town one county over in Hoback County.”

  Willow sucked in a breath. Next to her, Austin tensed as well.

  Deputy Taggart looked to his boss, who lifted his chin, letting his deputy know he could continue. “I called the sheriff in Hoback County and spoke directly with him. He wasn’t sure about the picture but said if it’s who he thinks it is, the woman died two months ago.”

  His words weighed heavy on Willow. “But . . . what about the daughter?”

  “I asked. Sheriff Everett said he didn’t pry into people’s lives. Said you were barking up the wrong tree. That’s all I could get out of him.”

  “But he gave you a name, right?”

  “Marilee Clemmons is the woman who died. But I didn’t get the daughter’s name, sorry.”

  “A name, if this is the woman we’re looking for, could make all the difference,” Austin said.

  “Thanks, Taggart. I’ll take it from here.” Sheriff Haines peered at the deputy, his expression not completely warm.

  Taggart nodded. “Yes, Sheriff.” He closed the door behind him.

  “Well, looks like you have a name now. You can’t be sure it’s even the right woman, just based on that picture.”

  “You’re right, we can’t, but it’s a start,” Willow said.

  “Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “I think we’re good,” Austin said. “Thank you for your time.”

  Sheriff Haines shoved from his desk and stood. “You’re welcome. In the meantime, I’ll turn your break-in and the note over to my investigations unit and we’ll see what we can find out. But I need you to understand that I have my hands full with not only residents but tourists, and our SAR unit. I’m happy to help if I can, but you two have been hired to do a job. I suggest you do it and head home.”

  In other words, he wanted them out of his jurisdiction as soon as possible.

  Willow and Austin stood as the sheriff opened the door to dismiss them. “We hope to wrap this up soon and appreciate your help,” Austin said.

  At the door, the sheriff said, “If another crime is committed against you, be sure to call us so we can look for evidence while it’s still fresh. Are we clear?” The sheriff’s friendly gaze shifted from Willow to Austin and hardened. It was subtle, but Willow hadn’t missed the coldness toward Austin.

  There must be a story behind that. Something Austin hadn’t shared. No surprise there.

  Willow and Austin thanked Sheriff Haines and exited the facility.

  Sitting in the Jeep, Willow powered up her laptop. Austin used his tablet.

  “I’ll look at the county appraiser’s website for Marilee’s property,” Austin said.

  “Good, I’ll search for any articles about her death.”

  They both worked in silence for a couple of minutes. “Found her. It’s an article in the local newspaper,” Willow said. “Says here she was . . . killed. Murdered.” Unshed tears surged.

  “Oh man.” Austin leaned back against the seat.

  “Bad enough she died, but why didn’t the deputy mention that? I think we should march back in there and ask the sheriff about the murder.”

  “Believe me, he’s been very generous with us. But it’s not his county, so he might not even know.”

  “Really? If they haven’t found the killer, probably all law enforcement is looking for the suspect. What about the sheriff in the county where she lives? Hoback County. How do we find out more about the murder? I wonder if they solved it.”

  “One thing at a time.” Austin stared at his tablet. “Got the
obit here. She worked at Clair Nursing Home. Oddly, it doesn’t offer her surviving relatives like . . . her daughter.” His eyes met Willow’s. “She was a nurse. Let’s search her name and see if we can find her daughter. Look for a picture. Maybe we can also gain access to her house and look around.”

  Willow couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so much excitement in his gray eyes. They brightened almost to a silver-blue.

  “If she looks anything at all like a young Katelyn Mason, that will tell us something.” But what if she looked nothing like Katelyn? That wouldn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t her daughter.

  “I hope you’re right.” He peered back at his tablet.

  After a few minutes of searching, they both came up empty. No images of Marilee’s daughter on the internet. Not even a name. What could that mean? That Marilee was very protective of her daughter’s identity?

  Willow shut her laptop. “Let’s go with what we have. Go to the nursing home and ask questions.”

  “Let me do the talking, Willow. I know what I’m doing. People aren’t that willing to talk to strangers these days. And we definitely don’t want to tell them we think she abducted her daughter. That would raise hackles.”

  Hackles? She loved how he’d morphed back into a guy who’d lived in Wyoming.

  “Agreed. Marilee Clemmons might not be Jamie’s abductor. We wouldn’t want to cast a bad light on her.”

  Austin put away his tablet before starting the Jeep and steering onto the road that would take them to Hoback County and the small country town of Clair. It wasn’t that far but still took time on the curvy mountain roads.

  Willow called Dana hoping to find out if she’d learned anything from the genealogical records—if Katelyn had connections to Wyoming. She could ask her to search the records on Marilee Clemmons. Maybe that would turn up information about her daughter—abducted or not. Or other family members who might be willing to share. Willow ended up leaving her a voicemail.

  As they headed north, Willow could just make out Grand Teton to her left. She took in the stunning scenery once again, then it disappeared behind another peak as Austin veered right at a fork in the road.

  She considered everything they’d learned so far and hoped they weren’t barking up the wrong tree, as the sheriff had said. If not, then this was further than anyone had gotten in the investigation—at least according to the files she’d read. Sheriff Haines had given them a lot today. Make that Deputy Taggart.

  There’d been something antagonistic in the sheriff’s eyes when it came to Austin. Willow wanted to know why. She reined in the questions she had for him. She would only overwhelm him and shut him down again. How did she get this guy to open up?

  More to the point—why did she care?

  Chapter thirty-three

  FRIDAY, 2:04 P.M.

  GRAYBACK, WYOMING

  Austin gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road. He tried to ignore the scenery and the realization that he’d missed this place. He also tried to ignore Willow’s citrusy perfume that teased his senses. He could try all day long to overlook the fact that he missed Willow, but his efforts would fail.

  “You seem distant,” she said.

  “I’m thinking about helping you find this woman while keeping you safe.” He glanced her way, hoping he’d injected enough humor into his tone. “My brain doesn’t work like yours. I can’t think on multiple topics, much less talk about them at the same time. I usually zero in on one thing.” Usually. But Willow was a huge distraction for him. Willow and the Wyoming setting.

  “I get it. You’re super-focused.”

  “Two things don’t leave much room for me to make conversation. I’m sorry.”

  “The sheriff seemed like a nice enough guy, but I got the feeling he didn’t like you. Was I reading him wrong?”

  Great. “Nope.”

  Willow sat silently. Austin suspected she was keeping quiet in hopes that he would freely divulge more information without her having to pester him. How long would she wait?

  Five minutes later, he chuckled. “I’m impressed.”

  “About what?”

  “You haven’t asked me more.”

  She smacked his arm. “Are you going to tell me or what?”

  “I’d prefer not to get into that while we’re gearing up to question people at a nursing home, but I will tell you this much. It’s wrapped up in my father’s accident. The sheriff was close to the family who died along with him.”

  A few beats of silence from her, then she said, “He seemed to like Heath. He even mentioned he was like a son to him.”

  “The sheriff blames me.” Now why had he said that much? He’d prefer to talk about it later. But that was just it—if it were up to him, he’d procrastinate until it was forgotten.

  “Care to share with me why he blames you?”

  “Not particularly. But I know you won’t stop thinking about it, and you need to focus on the task at hand.”

  Austin switched on the blinker and took a right toward Clair. He sank lower in the seat. “I had an argument with Dad. He’d been drinking, and I argued with him and let him drive off mad . . .”

  He wished Willow hadn’t asked. Grief tore at his insides. Why did she always want to pry? She’d poked around at a painful wound that hadn’t healed. When would Austin learn? This was exactly what had driven a wedge between them before—his unwillingness to talk. Couldn’t she understand he wasn’t ready? Still, maybe it was time he tried.

  He regretted losing her before.

  He’d given her something, at least, but he needed to clarify. “I let him drive off while he was drunk,” he repeated. “I didn’t know he was drunk. It took a lot to get him there because his liver was already toast. But I should have known. I should have seen it. I’ll regret my part in that for the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Now that could be a first.

  He steered through the town with one stoplight and turned into the Clair Nursing Home parking lot. Found a space and parked. “There’s nothing you can say.”

  Without waiting for her response, he climbed out of the Jeep. Together they strode to the building and Austin held the door for her. She scooted by him, leaving that citrusy scent again. He shook it off but wished he hadn’t when he followed her in and was met by nursing home smells.

  Disinfectant and asparagus.

  In the open area, a circle of patients sat in chairs and wheelchairs and tried to throw bean bags to make it inside a hula hoop on the floor. Others hung back from the circle and watched.

  Approaching the nurses’ station, he introduced himself and Willow to Kim, a tall, lanky nurse with bulging eyes set in a pale face under short black hair.

  Taking in her no-nonsense, matter-of-fact expression, Austin decided on a direct approach. “We’ve been hired by a family member to look into Marilee Clemmons’s death.” Which was indirectly true. “I was told she worked here.”

  Nurse Kim’s bulging eyes looked them up and down. Would she be friendly and cooperative or unwilling to talk? “Yeah, she worked here. I know her well enough to know she ain’t got no family. Least none that showed up at the funeral.”

  “She has family,” Willow said. “She has a daughter.”

  “Besides her daughter. I doubt she hired an investigator.”

  Oh boy. This was going south and fast. “And why is that?”

  One of the elderly men who lingered outside the circle rolled his wheelchair closer as if he had something to say, then seemed to forget where he was going. He stared blankly.

  Nurse Kim came around from behind the counter, her fist and a manila folder on her hip. She sighed, then waved them back to a room and shut the door. “What do you want to know? A deputy investigator already asked his questions. I take it he didn’t offer you any answers.”

  “You’ve already told us she didn’t have any family besides her daughter. What about friends?”

  “She worked
here for a good fifteen years. We were her friends. Outside of this facility, I’m not sure. You’d have to ask Charlie.”

  “Charlie?”

  Kim’s eyes bulged even bigger, if that were possible. “I thought you knew her daughter.”

  “We know her as Charlotte,” Willow said.

  Great recovery.

  “Right.” Kim shrugged. “I don’t know what I can do to help you. I hope you find her killer. Maybe between you and the sheriff’s department, she’ll get justice.”

  Austin offered her his business card. “If you think of anything that can help us, here’s my card.”

  Kim opened the door and exited, leaving them to show themselves out.

  “What now?” Willow asked as they walked out of the room and into the hallway.

  “We have the daughter’s name. We didn’t have that before.”

  Kim headed toward the man in the wheelchair who’d approached earlier. “Can I help you, Mr. Haus?”

  He lifted a gnarled hand as if pointing to Willow. “Marilee. I know Marilee.”

  Chapter thirty-four

  Hope swelled as Willow approached the man. He wanted to talk about Marilee. She shared a look with Austin and saw that same hope surging in his eyes.

  The elderly stored a wealth of information, especially when it came to the past. JT always said there was no greater travesty than when a family history died with a family member who never bothered to share stories of the past.

  Or when others didn’t bother to listen. The result—families forgot where they came from.

  Since Mr. Haus wanted to talk to them, this was where Willow would take the lead. With a look at Austin, she lifted her chin, and he gave a subtle nod.

  Kim clutched the wheelchair handles, ready to roll Mr. Haus away. When Willow approached, she put on her biggest smile. It was genuine. She loved talking to the elderly. Mr. Haus smiled back, and Kim relented as though realizing he might enjoy the conversation.

  Willow crouched to his eye level, keeping her smile in place. “Mr. Haus?”

  He slowly lifted his hazy eyes to meet hers and nodded. Wisdom that could only come with age lurked there. “My name is Willow Anderson.”