The Forgotten
Page 1
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
The Forgotten
Linda S. Prather
Copyright © 2017 Linda S. Prather
The right of Linda S. Prather to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2017 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
ISBN 978-1-912175-03-1
Also by Linda Prather
Jacody Ives Mysteries
The Gifts
Sacret Secrets
Catherine Mans Psychic Suspense Novels
Bet you can't...Find Me
Eternal Beauty
Jenna James Legal Thrillers
Beyond a Reasonable Doubt
Shadows of Doubt
Romance: Helena's Diary
Co-Authored with NYT and USA Today Best Selling Author, M. A. Comley
Clever Deception
Tragic Deception
Sinful Deception
This book is dedicated to all my wonderful fans and my family, whose encouragement keeps my fingers moving on the keyboard.
PROLOGUE
The room gradually chilled as dusk turned into night, enclosing them in the comfort of darkness. The baby stirred and whimpered, and the young girl held her close, cradling her in her arms. “Shhh…” she shushed as she rocked gently back and forth. “We mustn’t wake Husband or Mother.”
Her gaze went to the bedroom door, her heart pounding and her thoughts muddled by the conversation she’d overheard. Her lower lip trembled as she whispered, “Husband is going to take a new bride, Hope. He told Mother he was leaving in the morning and would return before nightfall.”
She shuddered as an image of Isabella’s battered and bloody body crept into her mind. In less than a week, he would come for the child, and soon thereafter he would come for her, and two more graves would line the banks of Devil’s Creek.
That’s why the old woman has been starving me since the baby was born. She wants me weak so I can’t fight when she comes to take Hope. And even if I try to run, I won’t get far.
Holding the baby closer to her heart, she brushed her lips against the soft skin of her cheek and rolled onto her side as she searched for memories of her own mother. Her real mother, not the old bitch Husband forced her to call Mother. The effort caused an immediate headache. They had stripped her of everything over the years—even her own name.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” she whispered. “They told me I couldn’t name you, but I did. I called you Hope because that’s what you gave me.” Hope snuggled against her. “I’ll find a way to save you.”
A light snow was falling outside the window, and the temperature in the room continued to drop. God, if there was one, would show her the way to save the baby. She’d prayed for three years to die, and instead He’d given her a reason to live. A real God wouldn’t do that unless He had a plan, would He?
She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. With Husband gone, tomorrow would be the only chance she’d have to escape. Even if they froze to death, at least they’d be together, and freezing would be less painful than the torturous death the devil had planned for them.
CHAPTER ONE
Swish. Thud. The arrow bounced off the tree, two inches above the target.
“Not bad, Jake.” Loki Redmond reached for her bow and grinned at him. “A few more weeks of practice and you might even hit the target.”
Jake Savior shook his head and watched as she quickly drew an arrow from the quiver, nocked it, pulled back the string, and released it, all in one smooth motion.
“Bull’s-eye.”
“Show-off,” Jake grumbled.
Loki handed the bow to him. “Want to try again, or have you had enough? I need to lay out the steaks for dinner.”
She followed his gaze as it strayed toward the rambling old farmhouse, his lips puckered and his eyes narrowed. Loki knew Jake wasn’t seeing what she saw when she looked at the house. To onlookers it was weather-beaten and tired, badly in need of a new roof and windows. To her it was still warm, inviting and felt like home. It was inside that farmhouse she’d felt the first stirrings of pride in her heritage. Her grandfather, although a white man, had taught her what it meant to Choctaw.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with the farm?”
“I think Grandpa would want us to keep it.” The death of Loki’s grandfather the month before had come as a complete surprise but not as much as finding out he’d left the homestead and over a hundred acres to her and her brothers. “Dadron, Jules, and I talked about leasing it out, but we don’t want someone here full time. We’ve been visiting since we were little, and I can’t imagine not being able to come whenever I want to.”
“You could stay in Mississippi and run the farm. I saw some wild horses up on a ridge yesterday. And there’s several nice places to build a cabin. Plenty of room for Dadron and Jules.”
Her heart skipped a beat. There was nothing in the world she would love more than staying here—except Jake Savior. “I thought you wanted to get back into law enforcement? Harry and Jenna both say the governor would be willing to overrule Judge Burkette’s order.”
“Regardless of my reasons, Loki, the judge was right.” He turned toward the trees surrounding the property and sighed. “I took the law into my own hands and killed people. I don’t deserve to wear a badge again.” Jake be
nt to retrieve the arrows, placed them in the quiver, and handed it to her. “I’ve already told Harry I wasn’t coming back. I’m done with police work.”
Loki studied his shoulder-length hair, a vast difference from the crew cut he’d worn before. As was the beard that partially covered the scars on his face. I’m never going to convince him not to blame himself. “You don’t want to cut your hair or shave,” she teased.
He ignored her and continued to gaze at the forest.
At least we have something in common—the forest pulls him, inviting long walks clustered in the shelter of its dark foliage, with only the sounds of the wind through the trees. He may not be Indian, but he has the soul of a warrior.
Her mind was flooded with childhood memories of the house surrounded by a mass of vibrant colors in the fall as the leaves turned shades of gold, yellow, and red, and Loki couldn’t imagine not being able to walk out in spring and watch the forest come to life as dogwoods bloomed. Even if they decided to return to Corpus Christi, she could never sell the farm.
“Dadron and Jules will be here in two weeks.” Loki walked toward the house. “If we’re going to stay, we’ll have to talk to them about the private investigation business. We could easily close the office in Texas and open one here, or you and I could open one here and let Dadron and Jules run the Corpus Christi office.”
“I think I’ll take a walk.”
“Grab a radio and don’t go too far. There’s a storm coming in, and the temperature can drop fast.”
Jake laughed and waved a hand at the clear sky. “The Little People tell you that, or was it the wind?”
Loki licked a finger and held it up. “The wind isn’t talking, but I did watch the weather forecast this morning, and according to them, we’ve got more snow on the way, as well as below-freezing temperatures for the next week or longer.”
“I thought the temperatures were always warm in the South.”
Loki rolled her eyes. I hope the walk gives him an attitude adjustment. “Normally yes but not always. Don’t go too far.” She stomped the snow from her boots, opened the front door, reached in, grabbed a radio, and tossed it to him. “If you’re late, I’m feeding your steak to Bruiser.”
Loki forced herself to close the door and not watch him walk away. She had hoped that in time, he would share his grief with her, not the forest. We’ve been here three weeks, and he still hasn’t mentioned Cara’s death.
She knew he was healing in his own way. The nightmares came only once a week now instead of every night.
Her thoughts turned to Jake’s wife, Cara, and a deep sadness enveloped her as her shoulders slumped. We all suffered at the hands of that crazy bomber, but Jake suffered the most. Not only from watching Cara die, but he’d violated his own moral code when he’d killed the men responsible. Loki knew eventually he’d get past his grief, and she’d fooled herself into thinking she could be content with him treating her like a sister, or a good friend and partner, and being with him would be enough. It isn’t. I want more.
Bruiser whined, and she stopped to rub the head of the German shepherd they’d rescued on the way to her grandfather’s home. Some bastard had hit him with a car and left him to die along the roadside. What’s wrong with people that they have no empathy for the suffering of others? “It won’t be long before you get to run after him, big guy. The two of you have a lot in common. Come on. You can help me fix dinner. We’re having steak.”
Her mind refused to shut down as she jerked the steaks from the freezer and tossed them in the sink to thaw. The other subject they’d avoided since coming to Mississippi was her visions. She knew how Jake felt about anything paranormal, and sometimes it hurt, like his comments about the Little People and the wind. She was Choctaw, and she believed in the old ways even if she didn’t always live them.
Loki felt the presence even before a hand lightly touched her shoulder and made her smile. “I know, Grandpa, I should tell him about you. I will in time, I promise.”
Would she, or was she lying to Grandpa to make his spirit happy? Her connection to the spirits had grown stronger since she’d been here, and it hadn’t taken her long to pick up on the fact her grandfather was still hanging around.
Bruiser limped in to sit beside her. “You would have liked the old Jake, Bruiser. He was always teasing, laughing, and his Texan drawl had me tied up in knots since the first time I saw him.” Bruiser flopped to the floor, placing his head on his paws. “I was sixteen, and he was my cousin’s partner.” Loki stopped to run cold water over the steaks. Had she really been in love with Jake Savior for ten years? “I was devastated at first when I found out he was married, but he was happy, and when you love someone you want them to be happy.” Grabbing a bowl she filled it with water and set it in front of Bruiser. “I miss Harry and Jenna and my friends in Corpus Christi, but what I want is to stay here forever. I want to take long walks with you and Jake in the forest. Teach him all the things my grandfather taught me.”
Bruiser barked his agreement, and Loki chuckled. “I know, he can’t shoot a bow worth a darn, but he’ll learn.”
~ ~ ~
Jake followed the footprints he’d been tracking for over an hour. In the beginning it had been out of a natural curiosity because Loki had told him there was no one else around for miles. Now darkness was closing in, the wind had picked up, and the temperature was dropping fast. With each step, an increasing sense of foreboding settled over him, and he knelt to examine the tracks closer. Too small to be a man. Maybe a young woman or a child.
The tracks weren’t made by boots or even shoes. Moccasins maybe, but he doubted it. He might not want to go back to law enforcement, but he’d been a cop far too long to ignore the instincts screaming at him. I can think of only one reason a young woman or a child would be out in this weather, choosing to freeze to death over what waited for them at home. And if that’s true, whoever they’re running from is probably looking for them.
His brows knitted together as the wind picked up again, tossing fresh snow over the footprints. The storm Loki had warned him about was brewing, and he wasn’t sure how far he’d traveled from the homestead or how long it would take him to get back. She would start worrying soon, and the last thing he needed was her coming after him and getting caught out in the storm—or even worse, bumping into whoever this kid was running from.
Jake rounded a bend and saw the form stretched out in the snow. He sprinted the last few feet and knelt beside the body. His heart thudded wildly as he gently rolled her over and saw the bundle held close to her chest. “Jesus,” he whispered, removing the faded gray blanket from the baby’s face. He checked the girl for a pulse and let out the breath he’d been holding since he first saw the bodies. They were both still alive, but they wouldn’t be for long unless he found some type of cover where they could wait out the storm. What the hell was she thinking, setting off in weather like this with a baby and wearing nothing but an old cotton dress? The radio in his pocket crackled and startled him. He’d been so intent on following the footsteps that he’d forgotten he even had it.
“Jake? Are you okay?” Loki’s voice held an edge of fear, and Jake wondered if she was still having visions. She hadn’t mentioned it, but her timing seemed a little more than coincidence. No matter how much he wanted to deny spirits existed, Loki’s visions were often real.
He fumbled with the button. “I’m okay, but I could use some help.” He glanced at the still, white face of the young girl. “I don’t think I can make it back tonight.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t have a damn clue. I’ve been following a creek for the past few hours. There’s a mountain a couple of miles off to the north.”
The radio was silent, and Jake could almost see her frowning as she ran through her childhood memories. He wanted to tell her about the kids, but the way the girl was dressed and the fact she’d run away in this weather made him cautious. Criminals were smarter than most people gave them credit for, and
if whoever was looking for the girl were listening, the conversation would reveal exactly where they were.
The radio crackled again. “Look to the west. Is there a huge old oak sitting on a hill?”
He peered through the snow. “Yeah.”
“Head that way. Over the hill, there’s a shack my brothers use every year for hunting. It may be a little dusty, but it should be stocked. I’ll come and get you in the morning. Buzz me when you get there.”
Jake unzipped his coat, placed the baby inside, and zipped it up. He picked up the girl, his jaw setting as his hold revealed she was little more than skin and bones. Wherever she’d been, the bastards had starved her half to death. Walking as fast as he could, he kept his eyes focused on the tree.
CHAPTER TWO
“Well, Bruiser, it looks like it’s you and me tonight. I could use a cup of tea, and guess what?”
Bruiser sat down near her feet, his huge brown eyes staring at her.
“Since Master Jake isn’t coming home tonight, you can have his steak.”
Loki filled the kettle and set it on the burner. She sighed and removed the steaks from the oven. You’d think by now I’d be used to dinner being late—or not at all.
Cutting the steak into small cubes, she squared her shoulders and sighed again. I warned him not to go too far. Her shoulders slumped as another thought hit her. His emotions had been strange all morning. Perhaps he wasn’t lost, and this was his way of avoiding her.
She dropped the cubes into Bruiser’s bowl as the kettle started to whistle. “There you go, boy.”
Evil.
The whisper flowed through the room, a chorus of voices, causing the hair to rise on the back of her neck and arms as Bruiser growled low in his throat and someone knocked on the front door.
“Just a minute,” Loki called out as she turned off the pot before slipping her knife into the sheath on her belt.
Bruiser rubbed up against her legs, still growling, and the hair along his back was standing up.
Loki clipped the leash to his collar and held on tight. “Quiet, boy. I’ve got this.”