while feeling like they were in the wilderness, the retreat had beautiful scenery and peace and quiet for them to enjoy. If guests wanted to feel like they were a part of the authentic ranch life, there were horses to ride, trails to adventure on, and a small town where everyone knew everyone else to visit. It could be anything and Nina was there to create more options for it and future guests.
The retreat would be opening in two weeks. Nina had already been there for seven days. In that time she’d worked alongside the manager of daily operations, Molly, and the cook, Roberto. Molly was married to the horse trainer and both lived just outside of the ranch. Nina only got the option to live in the old house because Molly and her husband had had no interest in the space upstairs when they had their own home already. Roberto lived in Overlook but because of the set meal schedule didn’t need to be around 24/7 either. So it had been Nina’s perk alone to savor. Not only did she not have to deal with the hassle of finding a place to live, her commute had been reduced to nothing.
She brought up her email and read through a few informational ones from Molly and then reached out to local stores asking about any events they might have coming up. It was her job to stay up-to-date with the small town’s entertainment so she could always have options for guests who wanted to explore locally. She’d already spoken to a few business owners but at least half of the town’s shops didn’t have email addresses listed. Or websites, for that matter. If she was going to talk to them, she’d have to do it in person. By the time her email refreshed and a new message popped up in her inbox, Nina was still thinking about going into town and making small talk. She clicked on it, wondering how to be polite but keep her distance as she met the locals, as an image loaded on the screen.
Nina’s breath caught.
It was a picture of her. And not just any picture.
She was standing in a stream, back to the camera, but obviously not wearing a top. It was from that morning. No less than a few hours ago.
Her blood went cold at the text in the body of the email.
And everyone thought you were a nice girl.
* * *
CALEB STOOD BACK and looked at his handiwork. His truck was gleaming. The pollen was seeping into the mud. He’d thought about going into town and running through the automated car wash at the gas station but had needed the water hose to cool off. He’d decided against using the stream and instead had run the rest of the trail hot. By the time he’d driven home, on the exact opposite side of the ranch, Caleb had been desperate for quick relief. He’d stripped down to nothing but his short shorts and rinsed himself off before working on the truck.
By the time he was done his skin was already dry.
The pleasant day had turned angry. If he hadn’t already been tan from living his free time outside, Caleb might have burned beneath the constant shine and heat. He doused himself once more before cutting the water off. He’d use the time between now and when he was dry to finally fix the porch swing he’d been meaning to repair for the last year or so. He’d never used it much but his mother had insisted. If there was ever any one thing true about Dorothy Nash it was her love for porch swings.
Caleb went around back to the shed and grabbed his tools. He was walking across the side yard when an unfamiliar car came barreling up the road. He cursed beneath his breath at not having changed out of his obnoxious shorts as soon as he’d gotten home and hoped once again it wasn’t anyone from the department.
No such luck. It was the only person he would have liked to avoid more than his brothers. Caleb dropped his tools on the wraparound porch and groaned.
“Well, howdy-do there, Mr. Nash!”
Jasmine “Jazz” Santiago came out of the car smiling for all she was worth. As a transplant from Portland, she had done a fine job of fitting into Overlook, the department and even the ranch on the occasions she’d stopped by over the last five years. Tall, thin and with a complexion she once had called smooth mocha, she was one half of their mismatched detective pair. While Caleb erred on the side of contemplation and quiet, Jazz was blunt and always ready to be heard. Even now she cut the engine and bounded toward him, laughing.
“I’d always wondered what you really did on your off days,” she continued, motioning to his bare chest and shorts, and then pointing toward the tool box. “I never would have guessed you were working on an audition for one of the Village People.”
Caleb groaned again.
“First of all, that’s a throwback,” he said, leaning into the teasing. “If I was auditioning for anything it’d clearly be something Magic Mike-related.” Jazz laughed as Caleb searched out his shirt. He tugged it over his head while Jazz inspected his freshly washed truck. She seemed to approve. “Now, other than coming out here to roast me, what’s up?”
Jazz switched moods in a flash. Work mode crinkled her brow together. She met his stare with severity.
“I tried calling but the sheriff told me just to go ahead and come out here. I was already out test-driving Brando’s new car so it worked out easier.” Brando was Jazz’s husband and the fact that she hadn’t brought him along felt even more foreboding. Caleb felt himself go on alert. Not only that but Declan was a stickler about privacy. Even more so about privacy when his staff was off the clock. That he’d sent Jazz out wasn’t a good sign. She pulled her phone out and swiped until she got to the picture she wanted. “When’s the last time you went out to the Overlook Pass behind Nancy Calder’s house?”
Nancy Calder had been a staple in the community for longer than Caleb had been alive. Her father opened the local grocery store thirty years ago. Now, her son ran it. She had a farm with some acreage out near the Overlook town limits, but after turning ninety she’d moved out of state to be with her daughter. Part of her land was rented out to cattle farmers but no one lived in the house. Overlook Pass was a bridge just outside of her property line that had been given historic status. No one used it for transportation but tourists liked taking pictures of it and fishing the water beneath it. The last time Caleb had visited either place had been with his ex, well over a year ago. He said as much to Jazz.
She handed her phone over.
“Apparently no one has been out there for a while.”
The picture was all wrong. Where there should have been an aged but beautiful bridge there was now bits of charred wood and nothing else.
“What the—” he started, anger threatening to become hotter than the weather. “Did...did someone burn it?”
Jazz nodded.
“The fire chief is heading that way now to investigate but, so far, there’s no way to know if this happened recently or a while back. Which may or may not be related to this.” She took back her phone and swiped to another picture. “Last night there was a house fire out on Brookewood Drive. They’re still investigating if it was arson or not. It might not be connected but Declan’s telling everyone in the department to keep their eyes open, just in case.”
Caleb didn’t blame his brother for the department-wide warning. Or the urgency with which he’d deployed the caution. Overlook had a fair amount of forest stretching around it. Arson was always a threat everyone took seriously. One match could make a devastating difference. Plus, Brookewood Drive was a five or so minute drive from the burned bridge. He would have done the same thing in Declan’s place.
Once Jazz had said her piece she hopped back into her car and raised a cloud of
