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The house was chilly, but instead of turning up the thermostat, Cameron put a log on the still-glowing embers in the fireplace and then moved to the front windows. Rain was pouring off the roof and running in rivulets down the gentle slope of the clearing. Everything in the forest had taken shelter, and he couldn’t help but think how lucky they were that it hadn’t been raining when Biggers took Lili. Tracking in this downpour would have been impossible.
And then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection and almost didn’t recognize himself. Some days he felt a thousand years old and on others barely out of his teens.
As his focus shifted back to the rain, he remembered it had been raining the morning he left Angel asleep in her bed. The trip back to the front lines outside of Kabul had been endless and full of regret. He would be sorry for the rest of his life that he never said goodbye and that he didn’t know her last name.
Suddenly Ghost was beside him. He whined and then bumped his head against the back of his master’s leg.
“It’s raining like hell, boy. You sure you want to go out in this?”
Ghost looked up.
Cameron opened the door and out Ghost went, disappearing into the downpour. Cameron left the door ajar and ran to get a towel, and when Ghost came back, he mopped him up as best he could, then settled him down in his bed by the fire to finish drying. Sleep, it seemed, had abandoned the both of them, but Cameron was too antsy to watch TV, and he didn’t want to read.
Instead, he poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it neat, then pulled a throw pillow and a big blanket from the back of the sofa and curled up on the floor beside his dog. The heat from the fire felt good on his feet. Ghost whined again, and Cameron guessed walking out in the rain had hurt his paw.
“I’m sorry, boy,” he said softly, then thrust his fingers through the thick ruff of fur at the dog’s neck and stared into the fire.
Finally, his eyes closed, and when he woke again, it was morning. The rain had stopped and water was dripping from everything in sight.
***
Special Agents Howard and Pickard had made a discovery. Five of the names from Jack Barton’s list were on NamUs, the national missing and unidentified persons registry. Three of the names were before Kevin Vanzant’s arrival at the campground. Two since, or three if you counted the recently rescued baby. Vanzant’s presence could just be coincidence, but the fact that all of them had passed through Barton’s property, or from the community of Jubilee, now made the agents suspicious of the owner as well.
Initially, they were confused as to why someone had yet to make a connection between all these missing people and Jubilee, until they dug further and found out that Jubilee was not the last place the missing people’s credit cards had been used. Each of those who’d gone missing had purchases on those cards in other parts of the state, supposedly after they’d left the area.
But Howard wasn’t convinced.
“What if this is just a ploy?” he asked. “What if these women have been sold into human trafficking? Their luggage and personal effects would have gone with them. I know this is a long shot, but Jubilee would be a mecca for that. What if the gang took the women, then used their clothing and credit cards to mislead the authorities on their last known locations? They could dress up females of the gang and send them to different places across the tristate area to use the cards, and no one would ever know all the women had actually gone missing from here.”
Pickard blinked.
“If that’s happening, it’s brilliant. But how do we prove this? Capturing Biggers has spooked the people we’ve had under surveillance in Frankfort. All of a sudden, they’re nowhere to be found. And I just got info that Lindy Sheets’s car is still parked at her last known residence, but her personal belongings from that room are gone. We’re either going to find her body, or she’s on the run.”
Howard frowned. “This changes everything. We need someone on-site in Jubilee. A new face in a town full of strangers will go unnoticed. I need to call the director.”
Chapter 5
Rusty Caldwell was in the hot tub on the back deck of her Virginia town house with a glass of wine in one hand and a pimiento cheese sandwich in the other. When she’d first returned home, she’d slept for sixteen straight hours before making herself get out of bed, and then reality set in.
Since she hadn’t been home in days, no laundry had been done, and there was no food in the refrigerator. She was too sore to even think about going out, so for the past week, she’d shopped online and had the groceries delivered.
Being the loner she was had merits, but the downside was having no one for backup. Her mother had been gone for six years. She’d died from a heart attack, and her father died last year from cancer. Her extended family consisted of her dad’s brother, Ray, his wife, Patricia, and their daughter, Liz, who was five years younger than Rusty. The two families had never lived close to each other, and losing her parents had not changed that, so when Rusty needed downtime, she spent it alone.
This particular downtime was meant for healing and she was taking full advantage of it, soaking in the hot tub with a facsimile of cheese and wine.
The water was hot and bubbling, and she groaned with appreciation as she shifted position and took another bite, then chewed and swallowed before washing it down with another sip.
On a good day, she would not have taken food to the hot tub, or gulped wine like it was water, but this wasn’t a good day. She finished the sandwich in record time and emptied her glass, then leaned back and let the heat and the jets do their thing.
She’d been in a bad spot on this job and, not for the first time, had come far too close to being sent home in a body bag. The job was her life, and her life was the job. It was all she had going for her. There were no personal relationships. Not now. Not ever. But she was beginning to regret that.
She leaned back in the tub and closed her eyes, remembering the soldier boy and their one night long ago.
She’d never believed in love at first sight until him. Her biggest regret was not asking where he was from, or finding out his last name, and when she woke up the next morning and found him gone, she knew he’d taken part of her with him. So she buried herself in the job to the point of obsession, traveling wherever she was sent, pushing herself to the limits of endurance, always in the hope she’d see him again. Maybe in an airport or another hotel lobby.
She knew he’d been going back to a war zone. But she’d never let herself believe he died there. She always pictured him going home. She needed that fantasy—to believe he was still alive somewhere. Then when she was at the point of breaking from the loneliness of her life, she would dream of him again, and it would be enough.
Finally, the timer on the hot tub went off. She turned loose of wanting the impossible and climbed out, leaving wet footprints on the tile as she went back inside. The body aches were better. The hunger pangs had been momentarily assuaged, and she had sanctuary.
