Or maybe it’s an unfamiliar itch, one that’s getting harder to ignore.
But wouldn’t pursuing Keo only end with me letting her down? The reasons I didn’t call her after that film festival haven’t changed. At some point, I’m going to be late for a date, or miss it completely thanks to my job. Especially right now when our case against Sons of Eden is finally building momentum. There’s also my family, who will always be my priority. And right now, with Linnea home and adjusting to her new position, this feels even more true.
What woman wants to be relegated to last place? It’s exactly whathappened with Eliza, and there’s no reason to expect a different outcome with someone new.
But now our lives are tangled with a young boy’s escape from a toxic cult.
Based on Keo’s frosty goodbye, she seemed ready to wash her hands of me. I don’t blame her, and maybe, that’s for the best.
I’m just finishing up grooming Tupelo in his stall when my phone chimes. It’s Special Agent Luke Ballard.
I squint at the timestamp across the top of my screen as I answer—it’s nearly nine. “Hey, Luke. Don’t tell me you’re still working?”
For the past year, Luke’s been on loan to the regional Crimes Against Children unit based out of the Boise Field Office, a move he’s trying to make permanent so he can be closer to his family in Maple Canyon.
“So are you, am I right?”
I laugh, but when I squat down to pick up the bucket of grooming tools, my already throbbing hip screams, making me hiss a breath.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The doctor said the only way to fix it is a full hip replacement, but there’s no way I can take that much time off work right now. And even if I could, a surgery like that scares the shit out of me. What if they screw it up and I never walk again? My family and my job need me.
“Are you calling with good news?” I limp into the tack room and store my supplies.
“We’re getting our task force.”
I brace against the counter, letting this sink in. “It’s about fucking time.”
Sheriff Everett Rumsey has wanted to create a task force between several agencies so we can formally work together to bring down Sons of Eden, but it’s been tough to build momentum with so little evidence of foul play. We’ve been sharing intel and updates when wecan but our efforts will be ten times more powerful as a fully organized task force.
“Do we have a meeting set up yet?” Outside, the rain has turned to big, wet snowflakes.
“That’s why I called so late. Could you make Thursday morning work?”
We’ve been circling this idea for months, and now there’s suddenly a rush? “Has something happened?”
“The team caught a new missing children’s case.”
“What missing children?” Squinting into the blowing sleet, I hobble up the path toward the house.
“McKenzie and Gweneth Travers. They left Sons of Eden with their mother about six months ago. Moved to Maple Canyon to start over. Last Friday, the girls didn’t get off the school bus. Looks like someone from inside the cult either coerced them to come back or abducted them.”
Anger flares behind my breastbone. “How old are the girls?” Inside the house, Bruneau’s waiting, tail wagging. I do my best to greet him without squatting down in case I can’t get back up.
“McKenzie’s six, Gweneth is eight.”
I wince. Linnea was ten when Eliza walked out. She had night terrors for months, and then it was stomachaches and problems in school related to anxiety that, later, spurred an apocalyptic, borderline OCD mindset tied to climate change. Not that Sofie and Jesse survived unscathed. But losing a parent at ten years old, or six, or eight, is especially devastating for a child’s developing mind.
“I came across another teenage boy runaway today,” I tell Luke while following Bruneau to the laundry room so I can measure out his dinner. “It’s why I’m getting home so late. He showed up at a private residence. The woman thought it was a bear ransacking her feed room.”
“Is the kid okay?”
“Undernourished, scared, and probably exhausted, but under thecircumstances, yeah. I convinced him to go with Zach, so at least he’s safe.” I’ll stop at the group home next time I’m in town to drop off the clothes Keo wanted Colton to have.
“On that note, what’s the story with the Clearwater County Sheriff? He’s being cagey as hell.”
“You didn’t get the memo? “I say in disgust. “He’s corrupt.”