We'll Never Tell (Secrets of Ravenswood) (4 page)

After stopping by the
post office to pick up his mail, he turned west out of town. His home was a log
cabin on a sunny plot of land a few miles outside Ravenswood. Kennels stretched
across the fenced backyard, and a frenzy of barking erupted when he pulled into
the driveway.

The second he opened the
truck door, Sadie shot through the opening and disappeared behind the house.
Ethan climbed out and retrieved his backpack, pausing when a Jeep stopped on
the road. Three men and two hounds stared in his direction from the old
camouflage relic.

“Did you find the
missing hiker?” Arnie Peters yelled.

Swinging the pack over
his shoulder, Ethan walked out to greet his nearest neighbor. “Battered but not
broken, the guy will live. The person Samantha Beaumont and I discovered wasn’t
so lucky.”

Arnie scratched his
balding head and frowned. “Huh?”

“The creek below Prophet
Point flooded during the thunderstorm the other night. It churned up some old
bones—human by the look of them. A recovery team is up there now.”

The man’s muddy brown
eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

“Wish I were.”

He glanced at the other
two locals. Bob Harris owned Ravenswood Nordic, the cross country ski center on
the edge of town, and Foster Carmichael worked with Arnie at the Fish and Game
Department. The back of the Jeep was piled high with gear.

“You headed up to the
lake for a little fishing?”

“An overnight trip,” Bob
answered. A few years older than Ethan and heavy set, the man’s big frame was
squeezed into the back seat of the Jeep along with the hounds.

“Well, enjoy.”

Foster slapped his leg
and grinned, teeth flashing in his tanned face. “We will. There’s a cooler full
of beer and a bottle of tequila under all that gear, and no women to nag us. It
doesn’t get much better than that. You should meet us up there.”

“Can’t. I have a buyer
for a couple of the dogs coming in the morning.”

“Too bad. See you,
Ethan.” Arnie shifted the jeep into gear, and with a puff of exhaust, they
pulled away.

Ethan walked back to the
house, hands stuffed in his pockets. A year ago he would have put off the buyer
and gone camping, wallowing in tequila and debating the 49ers’ chances in their
game on Sunday. It wasn’t that he’d lost interest in football or drinking… He scowled
at a pile of dog shit on the front lawn. When was the last time he’d cruised
the local bar with his buddies? A couple of months—or had it been longer?

Pushing open the front
door, he dropped his pack on top of a pair of socks in the entry, and headed to
the kitchen. Dirty dishes littered the counters. Dust was thick on the
windowsill beneath the crumbling vines of an ivy plant he’d forgotten to water.
He grabbed a sports drink out of the refrigerator and guzzled it down, then
went hunting for food. The lunchmeat had a shiny texture he was pretty certain
hadn’t been there a few days ago. He tossed the meat in the trash and settled
for a box of crackers.

Dropping onto a stool at
the high counter, he frowned at the clothes piled around the washing machine in
the corner. He hadn’t been so lax about housework when he’d been dating Carrie,
but they’d broken up over six months ago. He needed a maid—or a new woman in
his life. Someone to motivate him to spend a little more time on domestic
chores. Maybe a wife.

Ethan bit his tongue and
swore.
Jesus, where did that thought come from?
He had his dogs for
company. Women came and went, parting amicably after the novelty of the
relationship wore off for both of them. Most of the time. Apparently, seeing
Sam again had messed with his head. He crumpled the empty cracker box and
tossed it into the trash. Fun and easy was his style, not a serious
relationship.

Who am I trying to
convince?
He ignored the intrusive thought.

Asking Sam out surely
proved his point because he couldn’t imagine a woman less inclined to settle
down. Rubbing the tightness in his chest, he grabbed an apple from the bowl on
the table and headed out the back door. The dogs greeted him with an outpouring
of boisterous enthusiasm and love, canine style. Uncomplicated. Unconditional.

In his experience, women
were neither. Sam had left him without a backward glance once before, and he
had no reason to think she’d changed over time. He was far better off sticking
with man’s best friend.

Even in his head, the
thought fell flat. He might be setting himself up to get hurt, but he had to
try. Sam Beaumont was worth the risk.

****

Sam held open the studio
door as a troop of miniature ballerinas in frilly pink skirts stampeded into
the hallway. Across the room, Juliette Shaw spoke quietly to a little blonde
pixie and patted her on the shoulder. When the girl smiled and scampered off
after her friends, Sam cleared her throat.

Glancing over, a grin
stretched across Juliette’s face, lighting her big brown eyes. Dressed in
ballet shoes and a leotard, she flew across the polished floor and launched
into Sam’s arms. The two women rocked back and forth in a tight embrace.

“I heard you were in
town.”

“I got in early
yesterday morning.”

Juliette stepped back and
fisted her hands on her hips. Petite and enviably thin, her friend probably
didn’t weigh a hundred pounds wringing wet. “And you’re only now coming to see
me?”

“I slept half of
yesterday and spent the whole morning hunting for a missing hiker.”

Juliette rolled her
eyes. “You can’t take a break from work, even when you’re home? Did you find
him?”

“Yep, but the hiker
wasn’t the only thing that turned up.” She glanced over her shoulder as the
last two dancers were herded out the door by a distracted looking mother. “Do
you have time to talk?”

“I have a couple of
hours before my next class. Want to grab something to eat?”

“I’d love to. Let’s pick
up deli sandwiches and eat at the park. It’s too beautiful to sit inside.”

Juliette headed for the
stairs.  “I’ll change and be right down.”

Twenty minutes later,
Sam dropped the sandwich bag on the picnic table and swung her leg across the
bench. Juliette sat opposite, a smile curving her lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just
great to see you. Five months is a long time without my BFF.”

Sam unwrapped her turkey
sandwich and took a bite. “Speaking of best friends,” she asked around a
mouthful of tomato and cheese. “How’s Darby?”

“Busy with work. She
finally dumped that good looking jerk she was dating. Last month I took a few
of my older students to San Francisco to show them what a real ballet
performance looked like, and Darby watched the production with us. She didn’t
seem too heartbroken over the breakup.”

“What about you? Are you
doing okay?”

A shadow dulled the warm
glow in Juliette’s eyes. “Kim had her baby while you were gone, but at least
Mike had the decency to tell me about it himself. Oh, I signed the final
divorce papers not too long ago.”

Sam laid her hand over
Juliette’s clenched fist and squeezed. “Are you sure you won’t let me beat the
crap out of your ex?” She flexed her right bicep. “I could take him. He’s
bigger than me, but I’m tougher.”

The shadows in her
friend’s eyes faded, and she laughed out loud. “You’re everybody’s savior.
That’ll never change.” Shrugging, she picked up her sandwich. “I’m over Mike.
Honestly. It’s been over a year since I kicked his sorry, cheating ass out. The
baby got to me a little, I’ll admit, but I’m fine. Really.”

Sam narrowed her eyes,
searching for a lie on her face, then let out a sigh of relief. “Maybe you
really are over the son of a bitch.”

“I said I was.” Juliette
affirmed then frowned. “You looked worried when you said you wanted to talk.
What’s going on?”

A familiar shiver ran
down Sam’s spine. She dropped her sandwich onto the wrapper and pushed bits of
lettuce around with one finger. “We found a body this morning.”

A gust of wind shook the
firs behind them, and a soggy sheet of newspaper blew beneath the table. Sam
stepped on it then raised her gaze to meet Juliette’s wide-eyed stare.

“I thought the hiker was
okay?”

“He was. The body Ethan
and I discovered had been buried for some time. Years, I’d guess.”

Leaning forward,
Juliette planted her hands on the table. “Ethan? You were with Ethan Thorne?”

“We got paired up for
the search. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” She hunched her shoulders.
“Anyway, we’ve got way more to worry about than my five year old indiscretion.”

Juliette’s dark brows
lowered. “Spit it out, Sam. You’re making me nervous.”

“I think the body might
belong to the woman we saw in the woods that night.”

There was no need to
explain which night she was talking about. Though they almost never mentioned
it, Sam was certain her friends thought about that night as often as she did.

The color drained from
Juliette’s face. “How can you be certain?”

“I’m not, but the
remains weren’t far from the clearing where he pushed her onto the rock. It
looked like a pink jacket buried with the bones.

Juliette covered her
mouth. “Oh God.”

“It shook me. Ethan
wondered why I freaked out.”

“We have to tell
someone, Sam. We should have told our parents or the sheriff when it happened.”

“You were the one who
begged Darby and me not to.”

She closed her eyes and
rubbed her temples. “It was stupid. I was scared out of my mind and so afraid
he’d hurt one of us if we told.”

Reaching across the
table, Sam pulled Juliette’s hands down and squeezed. “It’s been over seventeen
years. I don’t know what possible good it would do to talk to the authorities
now.”

“DNA testing or
reconstruction, or whatever it is they do could reveal the woman’s identity.”

“True, so maybe we
should wait until they figure out who the body belongs to before we say
anything. What if I’m totally wrong? Maybe the person buried in the woods died
five years ago, or ten. Maybe the woman we saw that night survived the blow to
the head.”

“You don’t believe
that.”

She let out a gusty
breath. “I want to. Telling myself she was still alive was how I coped all
those years ago.”

“I guess a few more days
won’t matter.” Juliette wrapped up the remains of her sandwich and dumped them
into the bag. “I wonder where
he
is now.”

Sam strained to hear the
low spoken words. Her appetite gone, she dropped her own unfinished sandwich in
the bag with Juliette’s and wiped her hands on a napkin before wadding it into
a ball.

“He could be anywhere.”

“I don’t want to talk
about it anymore. I have a class to teach in a little while, and the girls will
know if I’m upset.”

Sam stood and threw the
sandwich bag into a nearby trash can. “There isn’t much point in speculating.
I’m sure Ken Reeves will be kept in the loop, and I can pump him for
information. As soon as I know anything for certain, I’ll call you.”

Juliette nodded. They
left the park and headed back toward the dance studio. Ravenswood hadn’t
changed much since they were girls. Tucked into a valley high in the Sierras,
it was a haven for sports enthusiasts. Hikers, mountain bikers, fishermen, and
climbers filled the nearby campgrounds in the summer, and cross country skiers
flocked to the town in the winter. In the off season, only the locals remained.
Sam waved to Mrs. Hewett as they passed her house. Their old first grade
teacher leaned her broom against the porch railing and waved back.

“Let’s hear it.”

Sam glanced over at
Juliette. “Hear what?”

“You and Ethan. Dish the
dirt. I know perfectly well you’ve avoided him for five years. I also know you
still have a thing for him.”

Sam stopped walking. “I
do not!”

“Liar. Whenever his name
comes up, you get this look in your eyes…”

Heat crept up Sam’s
neck. “He asked me to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Ah ha! I knew something
was up.”

“It’s just dinner.” She
stepped over a crack in the sidewalk. “We had a one night stand. It’s stupid
for me to avoid him because of it.”

Juliette snorted. “You
haven’t avoided him because you slept with him. You’ve avoided him because you
liked it so much.”

“Sad to say, I’m not
brimming with bedroom experience, but it did rank right up at the top.” She
stuffed her hands in her pockets. “My lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to
meaningful relationships. There isn’t much point in starting something I can’t
finish.”

“Then maybe you should
make a few changes.” Juliette huffed out a breath. “I know you love your work, but
can’t you do it a little closer to home? Good God, Sam, don’t you think you’ve
punished yourself long enough?”