Crimson River (The Edens)

“Now what?” Winn asked Sheriff Zalinski.

“I don’t know.” He ripped open the door to his cruiser. Frustration and sweat steamed off his head as he huffed.

We were all upset, though unlike Zalinski, we were trying to hide it.

His two deputies and the search dog had already left the parking lot. Knox had taken off too, needing to get back to town and the restaurant.

Dad, Griff and Mateo all stood in similar stances—legs planted wide, arms crossed—waiting for the sheriff to give them the go-ahead to come back tomorrow.

“If someone is up here, why didn’t the dog pick up on the scent at the stream?” Zalinski asked.

“If someone was up here?” Mateo held up a hand. “You watched that footage, just like the rest of us. He’s up here.”

“I don’t know who that man was, Mateo.” Zalinski shot my brother a scowl. “Could have been anyone.”

“It wasn’t just anyone,” Griff said. “It was him.”

“You can’t know that.” Zalinski looked to Vance. “Are you sure about that camera’s location?”

“I’m sure.” Vance’s jaw clenched.

Zalinski had questioned anything and everything today, from the moment we’d parked in this lot to the moment we’d returned after a long, miserable and deflating day.

“Cormac doesn’t want to be found. He’s not going to make it easy and broadcast his location. And somehow, he knows he’s being hunted. He either saw a camera or a footprint.”

“One of your footprints.” The sheriff pointed to Vance’s boots.

“Yeah.” Vance looked him straight in the eyes. “It would have been one of mine since I’ve been the only one out here searching.”

The sheriff’s mouth pursed in a thin line. Doubt was etched on his weathered face.

“No local would take the time to mask his scent or hide a trail,” Dad said. “If this was just anyone, then the dogs should have picked up a scent. The man we’re after is experienced. He’s not hiking these mountains for recreation. It’s him. He’s living here, and he’s dangerous. He tried to murder my daughter, Zalinski. So are you going to just stand there or do something about it?”

“Harrison, calm—”

“He’s gone.” Vance silenced the group. “It’s done. If we didn’t find Cormac today, we won’t tomorrow or the next day or the next day.”

The defeat in his voice was physically painful to hear.

“Sheriff Zalinski.” Winn took a step away from Griffin, shifting to interrupt our circle and positioning herself between the sheriff and Dad. “There’s nothing more we can do today. You and I can regroup tomorrow and formulate a plan.”

He nodded, letting out another huffed breath. “I’m not happy there’s a criminal on the loose in my county.”

“I know that,” Winn said.

“If I could put a deputy out here, I would. But I’m short staffed and have limited resources.”

“Understood.” Winn stepped closer, holding out her hand to shake his. Then she gave him a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as he climbed in his cruiser and drove away.

“Fucking Zalinski,” Griffin muttered.

“What an asshole.” Mateo shook his head. “When’s he up for re-election?”

“Two years,” Dad said absently, his gaze aimed to the mountainsides we’d combed today.

We’d split up into three groups this morning, starting at this point and slowly making our way toward the stream where Vance had put the game camera that had captured Cormac.

The dog had been with us—Vance, Zalinski, Mateo and me. When we’d reached the stream, he seemed to have caught a scent. He took off into the trees, moving slow enough that we could follow. Even at that pace, I’d pushed hard to keep up, trudging through the snow and careful not to slip on a patch of ice.

My legs felt like limp noodles despite the stiffness settling into my muscles. But I refused to let the ache show.

Not when my heart hurt much, much worse.

The dog lost Cormac’s scent about a hundred yards away from the stream. How, I still wasn’t sure. I’d hoped we’d come across a trail of footprints in the snow, anything to keep going. Instead, the dog looped us in circles, nose to the ground, running all along the stream, not finding anything to carry us forward.

We’d kept searching, our groups fanning out to look for tracks. When none had been found, we’d all regrouped at the stream again. Then Vance had led us to his other cameras, checking their respective areas one by one, ruling out any sign of a man hiding in the woods.

By early afternoon, Sheriff Zalinski had insisted we return to the parking lot so as to not risk anyone getting lost or injured.

There were still hours of daylight remaining. Hours we could be searching.

“I’m coming back tomorrow.” Mateo’s declaration didn’t surprise me.

Neither did Griffin’s response. “Let’s all meet at the ranch by seven. You good with that, baby?”

Winn nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re hiking with Vance. I’m done listening to Zalinski’s excuses. Find Gallagher. Bring him in. Hit him over the head with a rock and call it a rescue attempt of an unknown hiker for all I care. But I’m not missing this chance. Not again.”

“I call dibs on the rock.” Mateo jerked his chin toward his truck. “See you in the morning.”

Dad gave me a quick hug, then walked to his own rig.

Winn and Griff did the same before heading to theirs.

All while Vance stood unmoving, staring off into the distance, his eyes unfocused.

I waited until we were alone, until the taillights had disappeared beyond a bend in the road. “You okay?”

“Fuck.” He shook his head, then tipped his head to the sky and roared. His hands fisted at his sides as the frustration poured from his throat. He yelled for us both. And when he stopped and looked to me, the apology in his eyes broke me into a hundred pieces, like the gravel beneath our boots. “I’m sorry, Lyla.”

“I’m sorry too.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

I was sorry he wouldn’t get closure today. That he might never have the chance to find out why Cormac had murdered his wife and children.

What did it say about us that we cared more about finding Cormac for the other person than ourselves? Maybe that was what true, selfless love really meant.

“Don’t give up,” I whispered. If Cormac wasn’t here, that didn’t mean all hope was lost. It just meant the next time Vance got a lead, it probably wouldn’t bring him to Montana.

“I almost did,” he admitted. “Yesterday, I decided it was time to call it off. For good.”

Was that why he’d confessed so much at the coffee shop last night? Because he’d already made the decision to leave?

“He’s still here.” Vance’s gaze shifted to the mountains.

“How did he hide from the dog? How could he walk without leaving any kind of trail?” My footprints were all over now, frozen in the snow. And they weren’t alone.

“I don’t know,” Vance said. “He taught me a lot about survivalist skills, but this? We never had to hide our tracks. We were the ones finding them.”

“Now what?”

His expression hardened. “I found him once. I’ll find him again. Even if it takes me another four years.”

Even if it meant sacrificing his own life, his own job and happiness.

He’d do that for the family he’d lost. For the girls he’d loved.

For me.

“You’ll find him.” Down to my bones, I believed in Vance. He would find Cormac. Maybe tomorrow, when he went hiking with my brothers. Maybe weeks from now, when he had no one to slow him down.

“Come on.” He unglued his feet, taking my elbow and escorting me to the truck. Then he drove us back to town, straight to the coffee shop. He didn’t have to ask if I wanted to check in, he just knew I would.

Talia was at the espresso machine when we walked through the front door. The moment she spotted us, her entire frame relaxed. “Did you find him?” she asked when I reached the counter.

“Not yet.” I chose those words deliberately. “Thanks for helping today.”

“Anytime. Foster’s in the kitchen. He found a recipe book and is attempting your quiche Lorraine.”

“He didn’t need to do that.”

She waved it off. “He can’t be stopped. He’s on a mission because I told him I was craving quiche.”

And since Foster worshiped the ground beneath my twin sister’s feet, he’d do everything in his power to satisfy those pregnancy cravings.

“Did Crystal come in?” I asked.

“Yeah, but it’s been slow, so we sent her home. Foster’s loving this. He might ask you for a part-time job.”

I laughed, glancing over my shoulder at Vance.

I expected him to be close, but he’d wandered to his chair. Not that he was sitting. He stood at the window, hands stuffed in his pockets, and stared outside.

“Thank you,” I told Talia. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your day off.”

“Helping my sister? That’s exactly how I want to be spending my day off.” She glanced at Vance. “You guys should go. We’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” There was a softness in her eyes. A sadness. Like she wanted me to spend as much time with Vance as possible because he was leaving.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I told her, then joined Vance, hugging his arm. “Let’s go for a walk.”

We’d walked all day, but I worried what would happen when we stopped moving. I worried that he’d tell me he was leaving. So we set off along Main, strolling at an easy pace.

Vance took my hand, threading our fingers together. It took three blocks until his shoulders relaxed. Another four until his jaw unclenched. By that point, we’d almost reached the grocery store that acted as a bookend on one side of Main.

“Are you hungry?” It wasn’t even close to dinner time, but all we’d had to eat today were the smooshed granola bars Vance kept in his backpack. “We could go shopping. Find something for dinner.”

“Sure,” he said, looking both ways before crossing the street.

But just as we’d stepped onto the curb of the opposite sidewalk, Vance froze.

“What?” I asked, following his gaze.

It was locked on a young woman walking through the grocery store’s parking lot. Her red hair was in a long and stringy ponytail.

Vance’s hand dropped mine. He took a single step.

The girl rounded a car, then turned, walking straight toward us. She had her eyes aimed on the concrete, chin tucked like she was trying to be invisible.

A car rolled past on Main. It caught her attention and she glanced up, watching it pass. But before she could focus on the sidewalk again, her gaze shifted and landed on Vance.

Like him, she froze. Her eyes widened, so big I could see every bit of recognition. Every ounce of fear. The color drained from her already pale face.

She had two plastic bags looped over her forearm. In a single swoop, she swung them into her chest, clutching them tight.

“Stop!” he shouted.

The woman took a backward step. Then she tore across the street and ran away.

Vance chased her.