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“This is getting weird.”
Ash grumbled. “Now what?”
“There’s a security camera here next to the payphone. Brand new, and it looks top of the line.”
“Why the fuck would there be?—”
“Like I said, getting weird.”
“You shouldn’t have fucking gone out there by your fucking self. Don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”
Despite the creeping unease, Cal had to chuckle at Ash’s predictable response. The sheriff was a gruff, no-nonsense man, but underneath all that tough exterior was a soft heart that cared deeply about his town and the people in it.
As he waited for Ash to arrive, he wandered around the perimeter of the old store. Dew-damp leaves crunched under his boots, and the sharp earthy scent of damp wood filled the air. The sun was just starting to peek over the treetops, casting long shadows on the ground.
His gaze landed on something nestled in a patch of daisies near the side door of the store. It shimmered slightly against the green leaves and white petals. Curiosity piqued, he stepped closer and bent down to examine it— a small hair clip shaped like outstretched wings. Tiny faux gemstones caught the weak rays of sunlight, making it gleam. He went back to his car and found the stack of police evidence bags he kept in his glove box for just such an occasion. He picked up the barrette with the bag, then sealed it inside. He turned it over in his hand, examining the details. It was old but well-kept, the silver still shiny and the gemstones still securely in place. This wasn’t a piece of junk someone would lose and not care about.
And it looked familiar.
He’d definitely seen this somewhere before and searched through his memory for the when and where.
Hope.
He sucked in a sharp breath in surprise.
There was a picture of Hope Summers taken a few months before her disappearance. It was the one used on all the missing posters, and she wore a similar hair clip, the wings sparkling against her curly brown hair. Ellie once told him that giving the barrette to Hope was one of her earliest memories. She’d only been six at the time and had so looked up to her big sister, carefully choosing the hair clip from a department store for Hope’s eighteenth birthday. Hope wore it every day from then on.
Could it really be the same one?
Ash’s Tahoe skidded to a stop beside his car. The sheriff jumped out, his face a storm cloud.
“Holden,” he barked, striding over. “What did I say about touching anything?”
“I didn’t touch it.” Cal held up the bagged hair clip. “I bagged it.”
A frown furrowed his brow as Ash took the bag and examined it. “Jesus. This looks like...”
Cal nodded. “The hair clip from Hope Summers’ missing poster.”
Ash looked up, his eyes grave. “You sure about that?”
“I’m certain, but you could ask Ellie to be sure. She bought it for Hope.”
Silence fell between them as they both stared at the small piece of jewelry.
“Jesus,” Ash finally muttered. “Okay, I’ll get it to the state lab for testing. Maybe we’ll find some DNA.” He put the evidence bag in his car then came back. “Where’s the camera?”
Cal pointed to the left side of the store. Together, they crossed the dew-soaked ground, their breath misting in the chilly morning air.
The lines deepened around Ash’s mouth as he studied the camera. “Nobody owes this piece of shit store anymore. The last owner died some fifteen years ago, and his children wanted nothing to do with it. They’ve been trying to sell it ever since.” He nodded to the faded FOR SALE sign in the grimy window, then pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his jeans pocket and snapped them on. He pulled himself up on the window ledge to get a better look at the camera. “No reason for this to be here. Wireless. Someone is transmitting the footage directly to a remote server somewhere.”
“Can they see us?” Cal asked.
“Probably.”
“Can we get the footage?”
Ash shook his head. “Not without a warrant.”
