by Dana Mentink
The receptionist covered the phone with one hand. “I’ve got an ambulance en route.”
Sheriff Pickford addressed the few passersby who had hastened to help while an officer tended to the fallen woman. “Ambulance is on its way. Let’s just give the lady some privacy.”
“Isn’t that Josephine Walker?” The question came from a whip-thin woman dressed in jeans and a denim jacket. “I heard she found her daughter’s locket in the woods.”
Pickford’s thick brows drew together. “News travels at Mach 2 around here. What of it, Ms. Bradford?”
She flashed a smile. “You can call me Heather, Sheriff.”
“I make it a practice to keep away from a first-name basis with reporters.”
“Freelance writer.” Heather kept the smile.
“Whatever.”
“So it’s true that the locket was found? The one that belonged to the abducted girl?” she pressed.
The ambulance made the turn onto the main road, lights flashing. Cooper thought a look of relief washed over Pickford. “No information now. Priority now is getting emergency medical help to Ms. Walker. I’ll need everyone to step back and let our medics do their jobs.”
Cooper stayed at a distance. Mick and Perry bookended Ruby, standing like protective pillars on either side of her as Josephine was loaded into the ambulance. He wondered what was going through Ruby’s mind.
Would the investigation stall until Josephine was released?
And in the meantime, the locket, the clue to finally clearing Peter’s name, was hidden somewhere, unaccounted for.
Heather was edging her way toward the Hudson family.
Perry immediately steered Ruby to the car and bundled her inside, but before he closed himself in the driver’s seat he cast one look at the approaching reporter and Cooper saw something that surprised him on the older man’s face.
Fear.
THREE
Ruby’s eyes burned as she tried to decipher her miniature writing in the tiny notebook. She should break down and get one of those fancy tablets or iPads for her notes, but the whole notion of trekking around the forest with a computer seemed ridiculous. So she sat in the closet-size office, a converted shed, truth be told, transcribing her notes and typing them into the ancient desktop computer. The space was cramped, to be sure, but the little shed was tucked in a stand of coniferous trees away from the main house, with a view of the soaring mountains behind and sheltered by massive boughs alive with birds and squirrels. The sounds of the forest night shift commenced in earnest as the sun sank behind the mountains, beginning with the Myotis bat that flickered past her window. There was no finer office anywhere on the planet, she was quite sure.
She forced her mind back to the job at hand. Barn Owl pair 0907 and 0665 (Ted and Flossie) have chosen a nesting site in barn on northwest corner of the property. Her fingers paused as she pictured the stunning birds with the heart-shaped feathers framing fiercely intelligent eyes. Pride swelled inside her. It was a huge victory. She could not resist the self-indulgence. Ted had only been released on the sanctuary property three months before, after treatment at the avian hospital for an eye injury resulting from a pellet gun. Ted survived, thrived, found himself a mate and now if all went well, a little fuzzy family would begin their journey in the musty barn. It was another step toward the sanctuary goal of rebuilding a thriving community of wild birds.
She sighed as she tapped in the information, wishing she had someone else to share it with who could appreciate the triumph. Her last “boyfriend,” if he could be called that, stuck around just long enough to land himself a job with the fire service.
I’m just not a bird guy, he’d explained. That was an understatement. He grew increasingly more bored with her daily hikes to every forgotten corner of the sanctuary. And he couldn’t comprehend her sorrow when she discovered a dead red-tailed hawk that must have been shot by a trespasser. How could someone not grieve the sight of an elegant creature massacred in such a way? Feathers broken and bloodied, proud eyes dulled by death. It’s just a bird, Tony had said.
Just a bird. But weren’t the littlest lives supposed to be worthy in God’s eyes?
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.
But Alice had fallen, or been snatched, just a tiny bird with her whole life to live, and God had not so much as lifted a finger. Ruby remembered in vivid detail the day they’d gone out into the woods to play together. She’d been distracted by something, a feather caught in the root of the tree, and scurried to find it. When she turned to show Alice, she realized her playmate had vanished, as if she was a tiny sparrow snatched up by a raptor.
Just a bird.
Just a child from a poor family that never had a chance to fly.
And her abduction had stripped something away from Ruby, too—her innocence, her ability to trust. Truth was, she’d never really shared with Tony the deep river of emotions that trundled along inside her. And at the heart of it, she’d been the tiniest bit relieved when he’d left. She swallowed. Perhaps the abduction also obliterated her ability to love anyone but her family.
“So where were you, God?” she asked the cracked ceiling tiles, “when Alice was taken?”
She looked at the clock again. Ten hours had passed since their meeting with the sheriff, and it was now nearly nine. Almost sundown and no word on Josephine or the investigation.
Had Sheriff Pickford retrieved the locket? Her stomach tensed. Maybe, at long last, they would know what happened to Alice. And what would it mean for Cooper? Exoneration for his brother? Or perhaps it would be the final proof that Peter had indeed been guilty all those long years ago. She pictured Cooper, shoulders braced, mouth set in a firm, determined line. He would be forced to acknowledge the truth. It should thrill her, but she found it only made her stomach knot a little tighter.
Pine needles crunched outside. She froze. Why had she stayed so late in the office? She took her phone out of her pocket. A quick text, and Mick or her father would be there in a flash.
Ruby, you’ve got to stop depending on them to keep you safe. Still, she clutched the phone and crept to the front window. There were so many thick trunks available for hiding places, so many shadows offering dark pools of concealment. She eased aside the worn white fabric that served as a curtain.
Knuckles rapped on the door, and she leaped backward, heart in her throat.
“Ruby?”
With a gusty sigh, she put down the phone and opened the door for Cooper. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Got some info. I should have left it with your brother and dad at the main house but...”
“But you don’t like them.”
“And they don’t like me, which is odd, because I’m a hugely likeable guy.” He offered a grin that set off the sparkle in his eyes. “Your brother has a tendency to put me in a headlock when we share airspace.”
“He’s a little overprotective. Former marine, you know.”
“Yeah. Reassuring to know he’s highly trained in ways to kill me. Anyway, I had a call from Heather Bradford. She wanted to talk about Peter and what happened. An interview is what she was really after, I think.”
A painful fluttering began in Ruby’s stomach. “I see. I heard she’s been working on a story. It’s why she came to Silver Peak, I think. Josephine mentioned something a few weeks ago about Heather, but I thought she was rambling. I think Heather’s been dredging it all up for a ‘twentieth anniversary of the disappearance’ type of story.” It was all flooding in again, still every bit as fresh and raw, as if the decades in between did not matter in the least. “Did you talk to her?”
“No.”
Ruby started. “You didn’t? Why not?”
; “Dunno.” He looked away at a lark that flitted in the branches from one twig to the next. A slight smile curled his lips as he contemplated the little bird. “I guess...” He sighed. “I know this situation is hard on everyone involved. I don’t want to do anything careless that will deepen wounds.”
“Pretty mature,” she said.
“Yeah, not so much. Still a work in progress. Ten years ago I would have unleashed some serious venom to anyone who would listen, but these days...” He shook his head. “I need to think and pray about it before I talk to her.”
To think and pray about it. The setting sun darkened his hair and painted the strong planes of his face.
She realized he was staring at her, waiting, perhaps for a response. “That sounds good. Certainly it’s the smart thing to do, to be cautious.” The weight of his green-gold gaze made her breath quicken. Her phone rang, and she snatched it up, gesturing for Cooper to step inside the crowded space as she answered. “Hello?”
“Ruby, I wanted to let you know that Josephine has had a stroke of some kind. She’ll be in the hospital awhile, and she’s unresponsive at the moment,” Pickford told her.
“Will you go find the necklace anyway?” The words tumbled out before she thought them through.
He paused. “I’m going to give it a day. If she isn’t coherent tomorrow, I’ll get a search warrant and take a look.”
“Tomorrow?” Ruby groaned.
“She said her husband was coming back. We’ll keep an eye out and if he arrives, he’ll let us in to look, I’m sure, or hand it over himself.”
“But Sheriff, this is so important and Lester wasn’t, um, stable. He might have been involved, all those years ago.”
“There was never one shred of evidence to make us believe Lester did anything to his daughter.”
“But, if anything happens to that locket...”
His tone hardened into stone. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Ruby. I’m the man in charge here, not the Hudsons.” He sighed. “She’s been through a parent’s worst nightmare, and I know it’s damaged her and Lester. She lost more than anyone, and her wish is to wait for her husband. I’m going to honor that, at least for twenty-four hours. I hope you can live with it.”
It was clear. Whether she could live with it or not, that was the way Sheriff Pickford was going to proceed. She thanked him and disconnected before filling Cooper in. He listened, rolled his wide shoulders and let out a sigh.
“I’m becoming a pro at waiting around. Peter’s been off somewhere. I haven’t even seen him.” She caught the flash of worry in his eyes.
“How long will you stay in town?”
“I’m taking a week of vacation, but I’ll be in the area for a while. Doing some work for the national park.”
“What kind of work?”
“Logging borer beetle damage. I’m a botanist with the Forest Service.”
She giggled.
“Something funny about that?”
She pressed hand to her lips. “I just remember when you were a kid, you picked all kinds of wildflowers even when I ordered you not to.”
He grinned. “I gave you one, didn’t I? When I asked you out on a date.”
“Yes, but I refused to be placated by your paltry blossom.”
“The rest were for my mom.”
“How is your mother?”
“Lives at her sister’s place in New Mexico. Peter stayed with her for a while over the years when he flirted with sobriety. Together we managed to pay for two stints in rehab.” His voice grew soft. “It’s not easy for her to see him like that.”
Ruby felt shamed that she had never taken the time to wonder what had become of Mrs. Stokes after she moved away with Peter and Cooper following Alice’s disappearance. They were the polite neighbors, a single mother with two boys who would wander onto the sanctuary property and explore it every chance they got. Ruby’s father had never shooed them away and sometimes he’d even paid Peter to help out with some brush clearing. She suspected that he understood how hard it was to be a single parent, since he’d walked the same road after he lost his own wife to ovarian cancer when Ruby was a baby.
“Well,” he said, turning to go. “I’d better get back in case my errant brother shows up. May I walk you back to your house?”
She hesitated only a moment. “Yes, thank you.”
He stepped out on the porch and inhaled deeply. “This is my favorite time of day, my brother Peter’s, too.”
The words splintered the fragile pleasantries. Evening rose between them, swallowing up the waning daylight.
* * *
Cooper ground his teeth. Ruby was charming and lovely, but how could he have forgotten for a moment that the woman walking along beside him had accused his brother of child abduction, saddled Peter with an onerous sentence that would weigh down his soul with endless sorrow?
Ruby said Peter was in the woods that day and she saw him there, crouching behind the bushes, watching them. Peter maintained he was not anywhere near the two girls the morning Alice disappeared. So who was telling the truth? A five-year-old girl who had seen Peter many times in those very woods? Or Peter, a fifteen-year-old boy who was supposed to be sweeping floors at the lumber mill but hadn’t shown up for work that day?
Ruby was just a child at the time, like Alice, he reminded himself.
But Peter was just a kid, too.
He slowed his pace and allowed Ruby to catch up while he breathed in the comfort of the forest, letting it soothe the angry thoughts away. Though he was loathe to do it, he forced some conversation to ease the distance he’d created between them. “The Umatilla National Park, where I work when I’m not on loan here, is thinking of thinning a stand of ponderosa pines to open up the canopy a bit. I’ve been doing the botanical surveys.”
Ruby nodded. “Find anything interesting?”
“A new species of wild carrot,” he said, glancing at her sideways. “You actually look interested. Most people put me into the crazy-plant-guy category when I tell them about the carrots.”
She sighed. “I’m in the crazy-bird-gal category so I guess I can sympathize. I wish I could explain it better to folks. It’s just that everything here makes sense, you know? Things live and die, sometimes so quietly we never even know they existed.”
He took her hand when she stumbled over a twisted log crossing the path. Instinct, he told himself, though he could not explain why her touch made his nerves jump. “Maybe that’s why you and I do what we do, right? To take notice. To record that quiet life.”
Her fingers felt very small and cold in his palm.
“I wish someone had recorded what happened to Alice. If only somebody knew.”
He squeezed her hand and watched the last light imprint sparks deep down in her irises. The words flowed out. “I’m thinking it will all come out, maybe soon.”
“Do you believe that?”
He smiled, and found he could answer truthfully. “Yes, I do. Maybe that’s why the locket’s turned up now.”
She gripped his hand with sudden ferocity. “It’s what I want, what I’ve always desperately wanted, but at the same time, it scares me.”
And way deep down, where the roots of his soul were anchored, it scared him also. He started to respond when a squeal caught his attention, the echoing sound of a window closing or a stubborn sliding door being wrenched ajar.
“Up that way,” he pointed. “Isn’t that where the Walkers used to live?”
“Josephine still does.” Yet they both knew Josephine was in the hospital.
He headed up a steep slope where there was barely a trail to be followed. Hardly a challenge for a guy who bushwhacked his way through acres of wilderness on a regular basis. Ruby, he noted, must have done her share of bushwhacking, too, as she stayed at his heels
this time until they crested the slope together.
The Walkers’ cabin sat at the bottom, a wood-sided structure with a sagging roof. The yard around the place was home to a car that appeared not to have run in a very long time and a set of tools laced with rust.
A light glowed in the front window, through a gap in the curtains.
“It must be Lester,” Ruby said. “Alice was right, he really is home.”
She started down the uneven path that served as a walkway.
“Is this a good idea?” Cooper asked.
“I just want to ask him if he saw the locket and make sure he knows his wife is in the hospital. He might not have heard about Josephine’s stroke since he doesn’t have a phone.”
Cooper was never uncomfortable to be completely isolated, nor did he fear the darkness or anything in it, but something about the ramshackle house with the harsh light glaring through the curtains rattled him.
They hiked down, and Ruby knocked on the door. When no one answered, she called again. “Mr. Walker? It’s Ruby Hudson. I have some information for you. Can we talk?”
Nothing stirred inside.
“Mr. Walker?” Ruby tried again.
Cooper leaned close and whispered, his lips touching the tender softness of her earlobe. “He doesn’t want to talk to us. Let’s go.”
She shivered, perhaps from his whisper or the gathering cool of the evening, and followed him away. A moment later, they heard the squeal of the back sliding door.
Ruby set off in a jog. “I’ve got to tell him that locket has to go to the police.”
“No,” he called, but she trotted down the slope and disappeared through the densely clustered shrubs.
He followed after her, brushing aside the branches that obstructed his path. She stood, hands on hips, in the grass that had overtaken a broken birdbath filled with green water. “Where did he go?”
The sliding door was closed and Cooper peered into the darkened living room. “Seems like he could have just stayed inside and ignored us. No real reason to...” He felt a stirring in the air, a strange electricity that made him spin around.
