nest, up there.”
Mrs. Walker did not look up. Her red-rimmed gaze never left Ruby’s face.
“You took her.”
“No, I did not. Alice was my friend. I would never...” Ruby’s throat thickened as she fought tears. She moved back a step. “This is evidence. We can go to the police again. It might help them find her.” She felt cruel saying it. After two decades they would not find Alice, not alive anyway. Everyone knew this, yet a tiny flame of hope never died inside Ruby, and she knew that flame must be a roaring fire inside the mother whose daughter had vanished without a trace.
Mrs. Walker cocked her head and for a moment, Ruby thought she understood. Then her eyes narrowed, mouth twisted. “I’ve been watching you. All these months, I’ve been watching you make your plans to hide your guilt. Did you think cutting down the forest would keep you safe?”
Cold rippled through Ruby’s body. She could not reply.
“You took my daughter, and you want to take her necklace now. That was from her father. You cut down the trees so she can’t find her way home.”
“Mrs. Walker,” Ruby whispered. “Please listen to me.”
Mrs. Walker pulled a knife from her pocket. She gripped the white handle, the blade winking in the dappled light. Ruby’s mouth went dry.
“You took my Alice.”
Ruby could only shake her head, the necklace vibrating in her trembling hand.
“You took my baby,” Mrs. Walker said again. With each word her voice rose in volume until it was a shriek that reverberated through the trees, startling two Meadowlarks into flight. “I want her back.”
Ruby screamed and threw up her hand as the knife flashed toward her.
* * *
“Peter?”
No answer.
Cooper Stokes regarded the mess of a cabin his family had called home once upon a time. Though his brother, Peter, had returned some months before, dust blanketed the shelves, the carpet was dark with ugly stains and everything that had been worth a nickel had been hocked, no doubt. A mouse skittered along the top of the kitchen cupboard, regarding him with curious, twitching whiskers as if to ask why anyone of the human variety would choose to come here.
“No choice, mouse, so deal with it,” he said, his voice odd and hollow in the silent space. It was a wreck, in much the same way his brother Peter’s life had been for the past twenty years since suspicion cloaked him in a cloud of darkness from which he couldn’t escape. Cooper sneezed, a wave of doubt rushing through him. He’d allowed himself to believe that Peter was sober, holding down a job, finally. Cooper’s contract to work in the adjoining national forest seemed serendipitous. Go crash with Peter for a while. To enjoy the company of his sober brother? His darker thoughts took over. Or to check up on him?
It was incredible to think that Peter could again make a home here in this wreck, especially with the memories crawling around as numerous as the rodents.
Suddenly, he felt closed in by the space, though the high ceiling gave ample room even for his six-foot frame. Dust eddied around his feet as he escaped onto the front porch, sucking in deep breaths which calmed his nerves. The view outside made up for the disastrous interior. Pete’s cabin backed onto the Hudson Raptor Sanctuary.
A sanctuary. Ironic. Peter had found no sanctuary there, not one friendly soul to believe in his innocence.
A scream split the air and he froze. Bird?
Another shrill cry. The hair on his arms raised as he determined it was not an animal sound, but human.
He vaulted over the split railing rather than taking time for the stairs and charged onto the sanctuary property, sprinting along a path in the direction from which he thought he’d detected the scream. Five minutes later he stopped, breathing hard. Trees crowded every square inch of the forest floor except for a narrow ribbon of trail that branched off into two directions. Which way? He listened.
Shouts now, instead of the scream, coming from the eastern fork of the trail. He barreled ahead, slapping branches out of his way. Small critters, maybe lizards, maybe not, scuttled away from his graceless progress.
Finally he emerged into a hollow, filled with cracked boulders that hemmed in a massive threesome of pines.
An older woman with long silver hair whirled to face him.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
The woman didn’t answer, but something in her eyes caused his pulse to tick up a notch. A vacancy in the pupils, insanity even.
Then he saw the knife in her hand, something dark staining the handle.
“She took my daughter,” she said, voice low and soft.
“She?” Cooper dropped his gaze to the ground behind the lady, finally noticing what his brain did not want to believe. A young woman lay on her side unmoving, auburn hair covering her face.
“She needs help,” he said, in what he hoped was a placating tone.
“No, no, no,” the old woman chanted. “She took my girl.”
The last word was gathered up by the wind that danced around the grove, caught along with the pine needles that drifted, lifeless to the ground.
He kept his voice low and level. “Whatever it is that you think she did, it’s no reason to hurt her. Move away and let me help. Please.”
The woman looked at the prone figure lying at her feet. “I had a girl once.”
“So you know how sad her family will be if she doesn’t come home.”
She nodded, a sudden wash of tears coursing down her cheeks. “Yes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They’ll be so sad because they’ll never know.”
He didn’t follow, but there was no time to press the point. If the girl had been stabbed, she might be bleeding out. “Yes, very sad. Let me help her.”
A long moment passed while the woman considered, hair rippling around her face. Abruptly, she shuffled into the trees, making her own way where there was no trail to be seen.
Cooper went to the victim, pushing aside the sheaf of hair. There was something familiar about the heart-shaped face, spattered with freckles, wide cheekbones and a delicate mouth. A bruise darkened her right temple.
She was breathing on her own. A blessing he’d take gratefully. He ran his hands along her slender arms and legs, checking both for breaks and blood. Everything appeared to be intact. Gently he lifted the bottom edge of her jacket, near a tear that pointed to the knife entry point.
There was a grunt from somewhere behind him, guttural and bearlike and Cooper felt himself being jerked back and slammed against a tree. He stared into the furious face of Mick Hudson. Things became clear in spite of the ringing in his head. The woman on the ground was Mick’s sister Ruby, whom Cooper had not seen since she’d ruined his brother’s life.
Cooper
