Chapter 21

Hefting the pack over his shoulders, he whistled for Tracker, and motioned for Candace to take the lead. “Show me the way.”

She pointed along the narrow deer trail to a twisted tangle of willows and prickle bushes. A pink ribbon flapped in the breeze. “The footprints headed into the forest there.” She moved off the trail and into the bush.

He followed, wincing as brambles grabbed at his clothes, and he stumbled over unseen roots and rocks.

Tendrils of sun filtered through the leafy branches high above and dappled the forest floor where a thick layer of pine needles covered the ground and muffled their footsteps. Green moss coated the north-facing sides of the thick, scarred tree trunks.

“What are you hoping to find?” He brushed past a cobweb where a huge black spider lurked on a shiny silken thread. The high-pitched whine of a mosquito filled his ear, and he slapped the back of his neck. “The K9 squad searched this area, and they didn’t locate any signs other than the scent of human blood—” He jerked his thumb behind him. "—and that was back there.”

“I know this is probably a waste of time, but I have to do something. I can’t sit at home waiting for…” She shrugged. “I just want to do whatever I can to find Amanda Jacobs.”

He brushed a pine needle from her cheek. “You’re pretty sure those footprints you saw were hers, aren’t you?”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “I don’t know, but someone was out there that day. And they were injured.”

His fingers lingered on her soft skin. The alarm bells in his brain rose to a deafening clamor. He jerked his hand back. “Okay, let’s see what we can find.” Her gaze met his, and once again there was that instant connection, the one that both warmed his soul and terrified the shit out of him.

“Great.” She picked up a stick and tossed it for Tracker.

The dog bolted, returning in seconds, the stick clenched in his mouth. He dropped it at her feet and sat, tail wagging, hope glistening in his beseeching gaze.

Aiden prayed his own face didn’t carry the same look of desperate longing as his dog’s.

“I can’t help feeling there’s something here, something everyone’s missed.” She turned an imploring gaze on him. “What if the footprints I saw belonged to Amanda? What if she escaped her captor and was running for help, and I let her down?” She swiped her glistening eyes. “What if I could have saved her?”

Against his better judgment, he touched her arm. The jolt of electricity staggered him, but he didn’t remove his hand. Not this time. A man was only so strong. “You did everything you could. You called the police. They searched the area, and we had the scent dogs here a week ago. There’s nothing more you could've done.”

She wiped her damp eyes with the back of her hand. “I want to find her. I don’t want her to end up like my sister.” Her voice choked, breaking on a sob. “I don’t want her family to suffer.”

He gathered her in his arms again and held her close. The embrace felt even better this time. “Hey. It’s okay.” Her perfume, something floral and infinitely feminine, washed over him, and he smoothed tendrils of silken hair off her damp face. “We’ll find her. I promise you. If not today—tomorrow, or the next day—but we will find her.”

He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth. How could he make that promise? Amanda Jacobs had been missing more than three months. The odds of finding her alive after all this time were a billion to one.

But he was going to try to find her. He’d promised her parents, and now Candace, so he was going to give the search for the missing girl his damnedest.

****

Candace burrowed deeper into Aiden’s embrace, seeking comfort and reassurance, and easing of her guilt. A stick landed on her foot with a heavy thunk, and she looked down and smiled in spite of her tears.

Tracker perched in front of her, his liquid brown eyes gazing at her, pawing her foot. He whined and jumped back, his rear end raised, his bushy tail waving like a flag. The stick, the bark wet with slobber, lay on the ground at her feet.

Aiden released her and stepped back.

Embarrassed at her meltdown, she fumbled in her pocket for a tissue and mopped her wet eyes and blew her nose.

Tracker barked and pawed her foot again.

“Okay. Okay.” She picked up the slobber-covered stick and tossed it far into the thick bush. “Good luck finding that.”

Tracker blasted after the stick.

“Are you okay?”

Aiden’s quiet voice reached her over Tracker’s excited barking. She nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “I’m not usually so emotional.” Well, that was an outright lie. Ever since the attack the other night, she’d been a basket case. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d broken down.

“A missing child is a terrible thing.” His deep voice filled the space between them. “You, more than most people, know that. We all want to help. We all want to find Amanda.”

A heavy silence descended, broken only by Tracker’s distant barking, the wind rustling in the trees, and a crow croaking atop a nearby tree.

Aiden cleared his throat. “Do you want to head back?”

The air was rich with the fragrance of new leaves, rich, dark loam, and growing plants. The sky was a clear azure blue, and the sun, filtering through the branches, was a warm caress on her shoulders. Giant pine trees towered above her, their twisted roots creating humps like serpents in the soft ground. A bee buzzed, flitting from one brilliantly colored wildflower to another.

She inhaled a deep, restoring breath. “I’d like to keep going, if you have the time.” If they stumbled across some sort of indication Amanda had been in the woods, so much the better. If they didn’t, at least she’d escaped the stuffy confines of her house, and a respite from her constant fear that someone was watching.

His forehead furrowed. “Are you sure?”

She spread her arms wide. “This day’s too beautiful to waste.”

His frown didn’t ease.

“Unless you have to be back at work?”

“I do have a lot of work to do, but I still have a few questions about the attack the other night that I need to ask you.” He rubbed his whiskered cheeks. “Let’s find a lunch spot, and we can talk. Is that okay?”

A few questions.

Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she’d forgotten he was a cop, forgotten why he showed up at her door that morning. Tagging along with her on this walk was his way of getting her to open up. He was there for work. Only work. She’d best not forget that. “Sure.” Her voice was flat.

“Great.” He whistled.

Tracker bounded into the small clearing, a stick clenched between his teeth.

“Come on, boy.”

They headed into dense undergrowth, following the slight indentation of a narrow game trail.

He led the way, holding branches for her as he thrust through the tangle of willows and wild rose bushes.

After fifteen minutes of tough slogging, they broke through into a small clearing where a narrow stream trickled over moss-covered boulders lining the banks. The soft ground was wet and spongy from the previous night’s rain.

“Damn.” Aiden’s curse broke the silence.

She couldn’t help giggling at the frown on his handsome face. His once-pristine white sneakers were covered in mud. “You really should buy a pair of hiking boots.”

He grunted, and sloshed on, sinking up to his laces in muck.

They followed the stream along the narrow, winding deer trail and scrambled up a steep bank to a ridge.

Puffing from the rigorous climb, she paused and took in the surrounding view. Green forest stretched before her with no trace of civilization, no clear-cuts or buildings, nothing but a vast expanse of mature pine and fir forest and the winding ribbon of the river sparkling in the sunshine. They were in the backcountry where few park visitors ventured.

A haunting, echoing screech split the air, and high above, a bald eagle soared on the air currents in the azure sky.

“Man. This sure is pretty.” Aiden pointed at the stunning view. “Have you been to this area of the park before?”

She shook her head. “I usually head east toward the river and Mercer Lake.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, and this looks like a great place for lunch.” He shrugged out of the backpack and set it beside a large boulder. On the way to the park, they’d stopped at a deli, and he’d picked up a sandwich for himself, and a raw beef bone for Tracker.

They perched on top of the boulder, and he munched on his shaved beef and beet relish on dark rye.

She bit into the ham-and-cheese sandwich she’d made and grimaced. The bread was dry, and the cheese stale. It was all she could do to swallow it down.

He must've noticed her eyeing his yummy-looking feast because he held up his sandwich. “You want half?”

Her mouth filled with moisture, but she shook her head, and nibbled at her sandwich, fighting to hide her displeasure.

He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Look, here’s the deal—I’ll eat half of your sandwich, and you can have half of mine. Okay?” Before she could refuse, he picked up the other half of her ham-and-cheese and took a big bite.

She grabbed the sandwich half he offered before he changed his mind. The first bite was heaven, the next even better, and she couldn’t help the moan of appreciation that escaped her mouth.

He chuckled. “I know, right? Delicious.” He chomped another bite of the ham-and-cheese sandwich, swallowed, frowned, and grabbed for the water bottle and slugged back a drink.

“Something wrong with your sandwich?” she asked, hiding a smile.

He drank more water. “It’s—”

“I’m sorry.” She laughed. “I haven’t been to the store in a while, and that sandwich was the best I could do with what was in the fridge. Not my best effort.” His rich, male laughter shot a frisson of heat to her core.

“Like I said, it’s—” He coughed and gulped more water.

“Edible,” she supplied. “I really am a decent cook. You should try my spaghetti carbonara.” She put two fingers together and kissed the tips. “Delicious.”

His laughter stilled, and his dark eyes smoldered. “Is that an invitation?”

The moisture in her mouth evaporated, and all she could think was, yes, please, yes. But enough common sense remained that she kept her mouth shut and didn’t say a word, though her heart raced.

An awkward silence prevailed. The tweeting of birds was drowned out by the sound of Tracker gnawing on his bone.

Aiden finished his last bite, brushed crumbs from his pants, crumpled the packaging from the sandwiches, and stuffed it into the daypack. “What did you do to get on the wrong side of my partner?”

“Detective Breacher?”

He nodded.

Heat climbed her neck and flooded her face. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Joe and I—” He shook his head. “—we don’t talk much.” His dislike of his partner was written across his handsome face.

That didn’t surprise her. The two men couldn’t be more different. Detective Breacher was prickly, to say the least, and Aiden was… Well, Aiden was pretty darn charming.

Focus on his question. The admonition blazed through her, and she sat up straighter and faced him. “After Charlene was abducted, my family never recovered.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded wooden, as if she were describing events that had happened to someone else, events that hadn’t destroyed her family and left behind a lifetime of guilt.

His jaw hardened. “It must've been terrible.”

“It was. It still is.” She blinked back tears. “But Charlene’s disappearance was worse for my parents. They passed away several years ago, but after Charlene was taken, they went through hell wondering if they’d ever see their daughter again.

“Our lives were never the same. We didn’t stop searching, not for one minute. Over the years, my parents hired countless private investigators to look for her. They remortgaged the house so they could offer a reward. They even went to a psychic who promised to help.” She picked up a pebble and tossed it over the bank. “As the months and years passed, they lost hope. They died without knowing where their daughter was or even if she were still alive.” She hiccupped a sob. “You don’t know what that’s like. No one does, not really, not until something bad happens.” She tossed another rock.

He rested his hand on her knee and gently squeezed, offering unspoken support.

She inhaled a deep, steadying breath. “After my parents died, I continued the search for Charlene. The police, with all their experts, couldn’t find her, so I determined I’d do everything in my power to find my sister and the monster who took her.

“I went to the police station almost every day and pleaded with the authorities to keep searching.” Her face heated. “I don’t blame them for being annoyed. I was a pain in the ass, but I refused to stop. My sister is out there somewhere. I’m the only one left, the only one who cares. I have to find her.” She bit her lip hard to stop the fresh tears. “I have to.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “The police are convinced Charlene’s dead. They found traces of her blood in the farmhouse—lots of blood. But I know she’s alive. I know it deep in here—” She patted her heart. "—and I refuse to give up looking.”

She played with her hair, smoothing the tangled strands with her fingers, avoiding his gaze. “Detective Breacher was assigned to the case. He wasn’t a detective then. He was a rookie, but I was angry the cops had given up on Charlene, and I blamed him. I organized a press conference, and I called Breacher out in front of the media for not doing his job.” She swatted a mosquito that landed on her arm. “He didn’t appreciate that.”

Tracker grabbed his bone in his mouth and loped off into the surrounding forest.

“I get it. You want closure.” Aiden picked up a twig and twirled the stick between his fingers. “You want to know the truth about what happened to your sister. You want the man who took her and the other girls, caught and punished. No one blames you for that.”

“Breacher does.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I may not have gone about the situation in the most diplomatic manner. He was the officer who came to our house the morning after Charlene was abducted.” She chewed on her bottom lip, worrying the cut. “He assured my parents she’d run away and would be back home soon. He didn’t believe them when they told him she didn’t have a boyfriend, and she’d never leave home willingly. Not without saying goodbye.”

“What did Breacher do?”

“It was more like, what he didn’t do.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “He didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t even open a file and told us we had to wait forty-eight hours before we could report her missing.”

She waved away a buzzing insect. “If it hadn’t been for my mom finding the blood on Charlene’s pillowcase the next morning, two days would've passed before the cops returned to investigate. Two days! Can you believe that?”

She blew out a breath, fighting to calm the fury that exploded out of her when she thought of Joe Breacher and his incompetence. “Once the investigators found the blood spatter on her pillow, they started looking into the case. But by then, it was too late. Isaiah took my sister and drove sixteen hours across the state to that farmhouse where he held her and the other girls captive until the cops raided it three weeks later.”

Aiden nodded. “You’ve blamed Breacher ever since.”

Her cheeks flamed. “I may have overreacted. I mean, he was new on the job, and he was following protocol. I shouldn’t have set up that news conference. I shouldn’t have said what I did, but I was angry, and I blamed him for so many things…for not acting sooner, for not realizing the missing girls’ cases were connected, for not finding my sister.” She swiped at her damp eyes. “I even blamed him for my parents’ deaths. I called him an incompetent fool.”

“That explains why he has a chip on his shoulder where you’re concerned.”

She nodded. “In my defense, he messed up, and evidence that could've helped find Charlene was compromised or ignored until it was too late.”

“I haven’t worked with Joe long, but I think he means well. He’s just a little rough around the edges.”

She fished in the backpack, pulled out two granola bars, and handed him one. “I’m going to have to beg to disagree with you on that.”

Sharp, frantic barking cracked the air, and Tracker burst through the forest and galloped to Aiden, circling his feet, barking.

“What’s wrong, boy? What is it?” Aiden asked.

The dog whined and tucked his tail between his back legs.

Aiden crouched and petted Tracker, but the dog refused to be comforted and ran toward the trees, stopped, and raced back to Aiden. “Something has him upset.” He shot her a look. “You stay here. I’ll see what this is about. He can’t have gone far. He was just burying his bone.”

She opened the flap on the holster on her hip, tugged out the can of bear spray, and slid back the plastic trigger guard. “I’m coming with you.” He opened his mouth as if he were about to argue, but she stopped him. “I was a Girl Scout.” She held up the canister. “Always prepared.”

He nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”