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She scooted over, shifting to tuck her feet under her. Despite the desperate situation they’d fallen into, all she wanted was to lean forward and press her lips to his—to feel his arms around her again as they sat cuddled on a cozy glider surrounded by the songs of spring.
She dropped her gaze to her hands. She had to stop seeing Owen as more than what he was…an officer of the law doing his job. Besides, even if she wanted to try for something more once this nightmare was behind her, what could she possibly offer a man like Owen? Another man’s child? A woman with no education, no life goals beyond survival? “So, what’s next?”
“We need to search the woods. Bill fled in a car, but since there’s no other sign of where he went, I want to make sure he isn’t holed up out here.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands and rested his forearms on his knees. “My brother is here and can help while my dad goes over the surveillance footage.”
Marie nodded.
He turned his head to glance at her, concern and a little bit of guilt shining from his eyes. “I know you probably want to get back to the shelter, but we need to move quick on this. I can have someone else drive you, if you’d like.”
The thought of trusting yet another person sat like a boulder in her chest. “I’d rather wait for you.”
“Okay,” he said, and she swore he tried to hide a glimpse of a smile. “Why don’t you head out with me and Tommy? You can be an extra set of eyes while we search the woods.”
She mustered a smile. The woods held a ton of bad memories, but somehow knowing Owen would be by her side made facing her nightmares easier. “Let’s go.”
The backdoor swung open again, and a deputy with a clean-shaven face and eyes the same color as Owen’s stepped outside.
Owen stood. “Marie, this is my brother, Tommy.”
Tommy dipped his chin in greeting. “We ready?”
Owen nodded, swung his bag over his shoulders, and followed Tommy down the steps and over the small patch of grass toward the woods.
Marie sucked in a deep breath and scurried behind them.
Mosquitoes buzzed around Marie’s ear, and she swatted them away as she descended deeper into the forest. Mud squelched under her sneakers as she followed Owen and Tommy, coating the once-white material in dark brown stains. Each step was harder than the last, her feet either sticking in the muck or sliding over wet grass.
“Doing all right back there?” Owen asked with a quick glance over his shoulder.
She wiped off beads of sweat at her hairline. How had she managed this with Nora? “I’m fine. Just not used to hiking. Should I be looking for anything specific?”
“Anything that grabs your attention or doesn’t look like it belongs. It’s a long shot to find something, but I’d rather take a quick look just in case.”
A rustle of leaves sounded to her right, and Marie paused, searching through the dense brush for what caused the commotion. A chipmunk darted from under the mound of vibrant green vegetation and took off down the riverbank. “Holy crap.” Marie placed a hand over her thundering heart and leaned against the rough bark of a tall tree.
“Tommy, hold up,” Owen hollered then hurried to her side. “What is it? Are you okay?”
Marie laughed at her own stupidity and shook her head, raising her eyes to the patches of blue sky that broke through the covering of trees. “Sorry. A chipmunk just scared me to death. Guess I’m not much of a nature girl.”
Owen hoisted the backpack he carried high on his shoulders and grinned. “Those hairy little beasts can be terrifying if you’re a gardener, but otherwise they’re harmless.”
Marie rolled her eyes. “I’m not afraid of chipmunks. I heard it rummaging around and didn’t know what it was until it shot out in front of me.” She pushed off the tree and kicked around the tall blades of grass and clumps of wet leaves.
A long red feather with thick black stripes caught her attention. She bent low for a closer look. “What an unusual feather. That’s not from a cardinal, is it?”
Owen crouched beside her and reached for it.
“Don’t pick it up. Bird feathers are infested with bugs and disease.” She shuddered. The feather may be beautiful, no matter what kind of bird it came from, but no way she’d let it touch her.
“I don’t think it’s from a bird at all.” Owen lowered his pack, unzipped the front, and pulled out a pair of gloves. He fit his hands into the gloves then picked up the feather. “Hey, Tommy. Come look at this.”
The crunch of sticks and twigs preceded Tommy and echoed through the stillness of the quiet woods. Even the birds were noiseless this morning, probably trying to catch up on the sleep the storm from last night had interrupted.
“What is it?” Tommy pinched together his forehead and leaned over Owen’s shoulder.
Owen held up the feather. “Is this from an arrow?”
Tommy dropped beside Owen and studied the feather. “Looks like it. See how it narrows down to a point on one end? This would go on one side of the back of the arrow, two more around it.”
