Hard Evidence (6 page)

“How close is that?”

“Until the entire place is ready? Late fall, maybe—which means I’ll miss much of the tourist season this year. But the best four cabins should be ready by early July.”

Tessa walked several yards away, then spun back on her heel. “I know of one person who might be willing to come all the way out here. Lauren Young just graduated from high school, and she’s had a few rough spots in her life, so she could use a break. I’ll get you her number.”

“Thanks. I’ll give her a call.”

The pickup’s horn blared, and both sisters turned to see Claire leaning across the seat, her hand at the steering wheel.

Raising a hand in a vague farewell, Tessa jogged back to the truck and climbed behind the wheel. “I’ll bring Mom back tomorrow evening,” she called out of the window.

Feeling guilty at her sense of temporary freedom, Janna started back to Cabin Five.

Another couple hours of work and the arrival of the appliances would make it completely ready for Michael and his son. One cabin down, nine to go. The soft spring breezes coming over the mountains brought the crisp scents of pines and air so fresh and clean that it almost hurt to breathe. And Rylie, bless her heart, had been entertaining herself all morning while staying close by. Since the discovery of the bones, Janna had barely let the child out of her sight.

“Hey, want to go for a hike with me?” she called out.

Rylie immediately dropped the stick she’d been throwing for Maggie and came running. “To the waterfall? Can we go that far?”

“Hmm…we’ll see.” Janna checked her watch. “We can go for about an hour—unless you want to take a picnic along. Since Grandma left and the Robertsons went to town, it’s just you and me.”

Rylie’s eye’s danced. “A picnic!”

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way up the trail, just past the last cabin, with a backpack of food and Maggie racing around them in circles.

“I don’t think we’re likely to see any wildlife at this rate,” Janna said dryly when the little dog raced ahead, barking after yet another butterfly.

“That’s good.” Rylie shivered and hugged herself, grinning. “I don’t want to meet the bears.”

“Bears?”

“Ian says it’s scary out here because there’s
lots
of bears, so I shouldn’t come out here by myself.”

“He does, does he?” Janna mused. “I might need to have a talk with him about those bears. But he’s right—I don’t want you to go on any trails by yourself. You could get lost back here.”

Rylie nodded, her eyes big and serious.

“Do you remember what I told you about hugging a tree?”

She thought for a minute. “If I get lost, I shouldn’t keep going.”

“Right. Stop where you are. Stay by a big tree, and don’t move until someone finds you.” Janna dropped to one knee, resting her hands on Rylie’s shoulders. “It’s the people who keep walking and walking who get confused and tired and even more lost. Then it takes a whole lot longer to find them. So hug a tree and stay put.”

“I promise, Momma.” Rylie ran ahead and caught up with the dog, clearly unconcerned about any dangers that might lurk in the woods.

But even now, with warm, golden sunshine filtering down through the thick canopy of pine boughs and the sweet trilling of birds flitting overhead, Janna felt a sense of foreboding.

Off to the left was the ravine where the skeletal remains had been found. From this angle, she could see down into the mouth of the ravine where the earth had been disturbed, though now all the yellow caution tape had been removed.

On that side of the trail, the investigators had left little sign of their search for evidence. But to the right there were several places where they’d gone digging after something and hadn’t taken as much care.

At least it was all over. The remains had been removed. Answers would be found. Life would go on.

Yet even as she firmly recited that litany to herself, an inner voice whispered,
Beware—it’s not over yet.

A
fter thirteen years away, Janna had expected major changes at the Wolf Creek Community Church, given the growing influx of wealthy Californians into the area.

The exterior gleamed with a new coat of white paint. The parking lot to the south had been asphalted. There appeared to be more headstones marching up the hill to the north, behind the iron grillwork fence dating back to the 1800s.

But the tall, beautiful spire still stretched heavenward, its lacy gingerbread trim intact, and the massive oak doors with mullioned windows were wide-open, as welcoming as ever.

Maybe the people had changed.

But as soon as she and Rylie stepped inside, she knew even that wasn’t true. Elderly Mrs. Sawyer still sat at the organ down in front as if she’d never left that very spot, her white head bobbing along with the rhythm of the prelude she was playing.

Pastor Lindsberg was up there, too, seated behind the pulpit. Built like a burly bear-wrestler of old but with a whimsical sense of humor, he’d always been a dynamic and captivating preacher whose deep love of God’s Word shone through every sermon he gave.

Even the town’s pharmacist and sole funeral director were today’s ushers, just as they’d been years ago.

As soon as Janna guided Rylie to a seat in a back pew, she saw a round of subtle shoulder taps, whispers and turning heads—and then familiar faces craning around to search her out: some of Janna’s old teachers; Wade, who nodded and smiled; the high school librarian, Mrs. Walker; Harvey, from the feed mill on the edge of town; a few old classmates—though after thirteen years, they looked as different as she probably did, and most of them were a hazy memory at best.

High school had not been a happy time in her life.

“They’re
looking
at us, Momma,” Rylie whispered, sliding down in her seat. “How come?”

Janna gave her a reassuring pat, then curled a hand around Rylie’s. “Because I grew up here, and it’s been a long time since I left. In a town this small, people notice.”

Especially when you leave in the dark of night and never come back.

When heads started turning toward the other side of the church, she glanced over to the right and found Ian and Michael seated at the back. Ian was slouched, his head hung low and the tips of his ears red—a sure sign he was all too aware of the attention.

Michael, movie-star handsome in a perfectly cut suede blazer and khakis, sat next to him. He smiled at someone in front of him who had turned around, his dimples deepening and his teeth flashing white against his tan.

He glanced over, and Janna felt her pulse pick up when their gazes collided, held, then veered away. Did he feel it, too—that subtle sense of awareness, even from across the room?

From the corner of her eye, she saw him shift in his seat and whisper something to Ian, then they both looked up at the beautiful old stained-glass window above the altar.

Easily over a hundred years old by now, its intricate, richly colored depiction of Jesus and his flock had entranced her from the first moment she’d ever walked into this church as a shy and awkward girl of ten, on the arm of her great-Aunt Sarah.

Claire had rarely found the time for Sunday-morning trips to church, but when Aunt Sarah moved back from New York, she’d promptly begun rounding up the McAllister girls every Sunday without fail.

Sarah had brought them to faith and had provided the kind of gentle nurturing that none of them had experienced at home. She was at her heavenly peace now, resting beneath a modest headstone on the hill outside, and when she died, she’d taken a big piece of Janna’s heart with her.

Rylie nudged her. “Momma, are you sad?”

“Just remembering, sweetheart. Remembering some dear old friends.”

Mrs. Sawyer launched into the first bars of “How Great Thou Art” and with just the first notes, Janna felt a sense of peace and comfort surround her that lasted through the rest of the service. The passages from John 14, read during the lesson and echoed in the sermon topic, kept playing through her thoughts. “…Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

Perfect words, given at a perfect time…which happened so often when she listed to a sermon or turned to read passages from her Bible.

After the final hymn, Janna curved an arm around Rylie’s shoulder and moved down the aisle with the crowd to shake the pastor’s hand at the door.

“Good to see you,” he boomed. “It’s been a long, long time. And who’s this young lady?”

Rylie ducked her head and hung back, then shyly extended her hand. He enveloped her hand between his own massive paws. “Pretty as a picture—just like your mom. Y’all come back next week, okay?”

Janna grinned, enjoying the folksy Texas accent he’d retained despite moving north decades earlier. “We’ll definitely do that.”

“Maybe you can even get your momma and Tessa to come along.” He winked at her. “There’s plenty of room.”

But probably not enough room in Claire’s stubborn heart…and after a traumatic incident in Tessa’s life during her early twenties, she’d fallen away as well. “I’ll pray about it,” Janna said.

“Me, too.” They chatted for another minute, and when the pastor turned to greet some others, a trio of women came to stand in front of Janna, their smiles genuine but uncertainty flickering in their eyes.

Janna blinked, taking in familiar features blurred by added weight and the passage of time. Still…

“Betsy? Maria? And—oh, my word.
Ivy?
” She took a deep breath and hugged each of her old classmates in turn. As a ranch girl, she’d had an hour bus ride each way and had been too isolated to develop strong bonds with the town girls, but these three had been the closest friends she’d had, even if their friendship had been limited to the hours during school itself. “It’s been such a long time!”

“You disappeared the day of graduation,” Maria whispered. “We were
worried
. Your mom was always sooo mean to you, and—”

“Maria!” Frowning, Betsy tilted her head toward the churchgoers who might be within hearing distance.

“Well, it’s true,” Maria countered. “We called the ranch, but your mom never returned our calls and the housekeeper wouldn’t—or couldn’t—say where you’d gone.” Casting a quick glance at Rylie, who had wandered over to stand with Ian, she lowered her voice even further. “Your sisters cried when we asked them and said you’d gone away to school but they didn’t know where. We figured something
awful
happened to you.”

It had. That terrible last fight with her mother, after years of friction, had been the last straw. Even now, remembering the fear and uncertainty of driving off into the night in one of the ranch trucks, not knowing if Aunt Sarah would take her in, had the power to twist Janna’s stomach into a painful knot.

But it touched her deeply that these old school friends had cared enough to try to find her, because with all the bitterness she’d felt, she’d totally cut her ties back home. “I…did go straight to college. I was already registered at Wyoming U for the fall, so my aunt helped me register early for summer school and helped me move.”

Though if it hadn’t been for a full-ride scholarship, Janna would’ve been back to square one, because Claire never would’ve paid college fees for a daughter she’d essentially disowned.

For years she’d even refused to speak to Janna on the phone.

“We heard more later on,” Ivy said. “So we knew you were okay. But then we were soon off to college, too, and we all lost track of each other for a while.” She smiled. “Now I’m a rancher’s wife—I married Marty, one of the Jacobson boys. Maria works at her father’s bank, and Betsy’s managing her dad’s cow-calf operation. Funny, isn’t it? That we all ended up back here?”

“Funny,” Janna echoed faintly. For years, she’d managed to lock away most of the troubling memories from her teen years and concentrate on just the happier times, but now everything came flooding back. “I…I hope we’ll have a chance to visit sometime soon.”

Betsy leaned forward for a quick hug. “Absolutely.”

Michael moved to her side when the trio of women walked away. “Best friends?”

“Once upon a time, though I haven’t seen them since high school. Friends,” she added quietly after a moment’s thought, “whose families have lived in the area for generations. I wonder—do you suppose any of their older relatives might remember talk about someone who went missing in the area, long ago?”

Michael’s gaze sharpened. “I’ve had my officers talking to people in the area, but they’ve come up dry so far. Any reason why these people would be of interest?”

“Maria’s family has owned the local bank for generations. Maybe one of them might remember someone in trouble and desperate. Betsy’s in-laws have owned land bordering my mother’s place to the east for just as long. And Ivy—” Janna hesitated. “Well, her dad is a straight-up guy, but if you’re the law around here for long, you’re sure to run into her uncles, and it won’t just be to say ‘hello.’ Seems like someone in one of these families might know something, if anyone would.”

Michael glanced at Ian and tipped his head toward their truck, then threaded his arm through the crook of Janna’s elbow. “Can I walk you ladies to your car?”

She nodded, but waited until they’d reached her Snow Canyon Ranch pickup and Rylie had climbed in before continuing her thought. “I’ve tried to talk to my mother about the…situation…out at the lodge.”

The laugh lines at the corners of Michael’s eyes deepened. “I hope you’ve had better luck than I have.”

“Hardly. Each time, she brushes me off and then gets irritable if I persist. I got the same sort of reaction from Fred at the grocery store.”

“Fred?”

“The owner. He’s pushing seventy, but he stopped me one day to ask about the rumors. I told him I didn’t know anything, then asked him some questions about the past. He suddenly got busy and had no time to answer. It made me think about a magazine article I once read. What if this is one of those situations where everyone knows the truth, but no one dares reveal it?”

“Well,” Janna said, dusting off her hands. “What do you think? Will your dad be pleased?”

For a place without cable, TV reception or a hot tub, it was okay. But she looked so happy about the curtains and bright-red woven rugs in Cabin Five that Ian dredged up a half grin. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to be intrusive and handle any of your dad’s things when he isn’t here. But I’d be happy to help you guys move this evening when he comes home.” She paused and looked around. “If you’d like to bring your own luggage up now, we could do that.”

Ian started to say no, then reconsidered. The cabin was nice and private. Out of sight of the main lodge, where that grumpy old lady always seemed to be giving him dirty looks—even when he wasn’t in her way. How Janna had ended up nice with a mother like that one was—

The thought hit him like a sucker punch to the stomach. As always, whenever he felt blindsided by a word or photo or a sudden memory, his breath caught, his eyes started to burn, and he wanted to turn around and drive a fist into the wall.

It was so unfair. So cruel and overwhelming and still so unbelievable. All the more, because a nasty woman like Claire McAllister had stuck around to old age, while his own mom…

He blinked. Wanted to run. Hide—anything, to get away from the sympathy in Janna’s eyes and the rush of humiliation that clogged his throat. He didn’t cry.
Ever.
But though he wanted to keep her from seeing his tears, he couldn’t seem to make his feet move.

She stepped closer and rested her hands on his shoulders. Warmth seemed to flow through him and settle around his aching heart at her touch. “Your father told me about the accident, Ian. There just aren’t enough words to express how sorry I am that you’ve had to go through this.”

He bowed his head, unable to speak.

“I know you’re a big guy, and you barely know me—but if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Part of him wanted that more than anything. Another part rebelled, angry and defiant at the offer of sympathy from yet another person who could never understand how gut-wrenching his grief and guilt were.

There’d already been way too many shallow condolences. People who’d said terrible things like, “Maybe it was meant to be” when the only thing he wanted was to have Mom back with him. Alive and laughing and carefree.

Like she’d been before her own son had managed to kill her.

He leaned into Janna’s touch for a moment, then jerked away and fled to the door without looking back. He knew that if he stayed any longer, he might start crying like a baby. And what was the use of that?

Outside, Rylie looked up from petting her dog and smiled at him. “It’s a nice cabin, isn’t it? I helped make the beds, and—”

He rushed past her, ignoring a sharp twinge in his knee. He hesitated, then turned up the lane leading to the trails beyond the last cabin. He needed space and solitude and a place where he could scream if he wanted to, and no one would hear.

“Ian! Wait!” Rylie’s voice followed him, but he didn’t look back…not until he’d gone way past the last cabin and reached the place where the trail split into three directions. He saw her from a distance, doggedly starting up the long, rock-strewn hill.

Great.

He wavered, then took the trail to the right—just a faint track leading through a dense thicket, and one he’d never explored. No one would think to follow him here.

Rylie would surely give up—she always turned back. And this was one time when he really wanted to be alone.

After dealing with a multicar accident, a domestic disturbance and a vandalism report during the afternoon—the last of which had been just a few miles from town—Michael sighed with relief when he pulled in at Snow Canyon Lodge at four o’clock.

Finding this place had been an answer to his prayers. It was beyond beautiful, in the shadows of rugged mountain peaks that rose like snow-frosted sentinels to the west. It offered solitude, and more opportunity for trying to bond with Ian. The evening meals had been exceptional. And Janna…