Page 85 of A River of Crows

“She’s been throwing up all night,” Libby said. “But I think she’s finally okay to go back to bed.”

Jay’s face seemed to relax, and so did Caroline’s heart rate. He hadn’t been out there. The light would have come on sooner.

“Ah well, let’s get you in bed, darlin’.” He put his hand on her back. “I figured it had to be bad for you to ask Libby to come over. You can always call me when you need me. Family comes before work.”

Caroline had to stop herself from laughing at that one. She wondered what lie he’d told Anna. Emergency broom sale at 2:00 a.m.?

“Thanks, Libby,” Jay said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“It’s so late, I don’t mind crashing out on the couch. I can get up and help with the kids.”

“I can take care of my wife and my children.” Caroline caught the annoyance in Jay’s voice.

“It’s fine, Libby.” Caroline looked into her friend’s eyes and tried to convey that leaving was okay. Libby didn’t look convinced, but she picked up her suitcase behind the couch.

“All right,” she said quietly. “I’ll call in the morning to check in on you, but if you need anything before—”

“Good night, Libby,” Jay said loudly. “Go home.”

Chapter 25

Mallowater, TX, 2008

Sloan stared at the picture. Libby, Vince, and Ridge standing in front of a bright, beautiful Christmas tree. None of them were looking at the camera, and they’d all been caught mid-laugh. It was the kind of perfect picture that you couldn’t plan. One that captured genuine happiness.

They looked like a family out of the Sears Christmas Wish Books Sloan flipped through each year as a child, circling Barbies and paint-by-numbers books, knowing that no matter how tight money was, several of these gifts would somehow end up under the tree. She tried circling items as a teen, but it never worked. Sloan gave up wishing for CD players and watercolor paint sets but still flipped through the pages longingly each year, wishing she had a happy family who wore matching Christmas pajamas.

Why would Libby and Vince Turner kidnap Ridge? The question pinged back and forth between the walls of Sloan’s skull. Libby was her mom’s best friend. And why would Ridge go with them? How could he accept them as his family?

She wanted to call Ridge now. Wanted to demand answers, but it would only push him away. Still, she realized she couldn’t contain a secret this vast. You couldn’t fit the ocean inside a vase.

Dylan, she thought. She needed to call Dylan. She’d told him she had thrown up and needed a raincheck when she’d returned from seeing Ridge. He had been understanding, but he might have taken it personally. She needed Dylan to help her make sense of it. And he’s the only one who knew Ridge was alive. There was no one else to call. Sloan pulled out her cell phone. But rather than go to her contacts and find Dylan’s name, she dialed a number she had memorized years before. She called Noah.

“What’s this about, Sloan?” Noah tugged his baseball cap down lower as he walked toward Sloan’s porch.

She pushed the screen door open. “Come inside.”

Noah looked back out at the street as though he’d been followed.

“Oh, come on. You didn’t want to meet in public because it could look bad. Now you don’t want to come in my house for the same reason? Get over yourself.”

Noah shook his head. “You’ve got some nerve, you know? The last time I heard from you, you said you were using Dylan Lawrence for sex. Then you call tonight, frantic, demanding that I come over, refusing to say why. I’m off tonight. I had to lie to Vickie, and it’s not worth it. You’re not worth it. If you need something, call the police department.”

Sloan watched him stomp back to his car, but even after such cruel words, she couldn’t let him drive away. She charged toward him, gripping the picture in her right hand. “I may not be worth it to you, but is Ridge?”

Noah clicked his key fob, unlocking the doors of his cruiser. “What are you talking about? Is this still about Eddie Daughtry?”

“No.” She held up the picture. “It’s about Vince and Libby Turner.”

Noah squinted at the photo, then grabbed it out of her hands. “What the hell is this?”

She snatched the picture back. “Still want me to call 911, or do you want to come in and help sort this out?”

Noah clicked the fob again, locking the doors, and followed Sloan inside the house.

Sloan filled Noah in on everything. On the talking crow, on Ridge appearing from behind the bush, on the scrapbook. She whispered, frequently breaking to glance down the hallway and make sure her mother’s door remained closed.

Noah rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe this. If they moved the same time Ridge disappeared, why weren’t they looked at?”