Page 4

CHAPTER 4

ELLIOT

A ngry and exhausted, I step through the front door of my house. My brothers, our dogs, and our three ranch hands, Kennedy included, scoured the creek bed all the way to the edge of our property, looking for anything that might clue us in to what happened to the mystery woman.

Unfortunately, aside from some trash that washed down the creek from the ranch over, we’ve got nothing. No sign of a struggle, no evidence that she was ever even there. Even the branch she’d been draped over had washed down the creek by the time we got back to it.

I know it should make me happy, given that she clearly wasn’t attacked right under our noses, but if there’s no evidence, and she can’t remember what happened, how do we make sure it doesn’t happen again?

Even as we’ve only been looking for a day, I can’t help but feel the failure settling on my shoulders like a heavy reminder of what was lost before.

Echo pads over to his bed and lies down, clearly exhausted. Desperate to feel clean again, I head into my bedroom so I can get ready to wash the day away.

I strip out of my dirty shirt, tossing it into the hamper then remove my wallet, keys, and phone from the pocket of my jeans. As I’m setting them on my dresser, my phone rings. Lani’s name flashes on the screen.

I answer without hesitation. “How is she?”

“She’ll survive,” she tells me. “We had to go in and get the bullet out then remove part of her liver, but she’ll live.”

“What kind of round was it?”

“A 9mm. FMJ.”

“Not a hollow point?”

“No. Which is one of the only reasons she’s still breathing. It got lodged in part of her liver.”

“Any idea how long ago?”

She sighs. “We can’t quite figure that part out. She doesn’t remember, but if I had to take a guess—” She trails off, and I know it’s because Lani hates making assumptions even though she’s got great instincts.

“What do you think?”

“I’d say she was in that creek at least five hours. Her skin was wrinkled and pale, and she was incredibly dehydrated.”

“How did she not bleed out?”

“God,” Lani replies. “And really cold water. It slowed her heart rate, which then slowed the bleeding.”

“A walking miracle.”

“Exactly. If you hadn’t found her, though—” She pauses. “Elliot, it would’ve been a dead body that washed up.”

The stranger’s face swims into view. Wide green eyes so full of fear. Her red hair a blast of color against alabaster skin dusted with freckles. She’s beautiful, there’s no doubt about that.

Was it a crime of passion that sent her into that creek?

Or something else?

“She wasn’t assaulted.” As though she can read my mind, Lani continues, “I looked her over myself. She’s also covered in scrapes and small cuts, conducive to running through brush.”

“So she ran from whoever was after her.”

“That would be my guess. One look at her feet will tell you that. They’re torn up. She was hit by a car, and I’m wondering if it wasn’t a hit-and-run gone wrong. Someone trying to finish the job.”

I piece together what we know, trying to paint a picture. “A woman dressed in a cocktail dress and man’s overshirt gets hit by a car then shot and dumped in a creek.”

“That’s what it looks like. Were there any signs she was attacked on our property?”

“No. We didn’t even find tire tracks. We’re headed to the Jackson ranch tomorrow to ask them if we can take a look around.”

“You think she was dumped there?”

“I’m not sure.” The Jacksons are a bit different than anyone else around here. They don’t partake in town activities, keep to themselves, and are among some of the rudest people I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with in the past. But I never would’ve thought them murderers. “Doesn’t hurt to look around though.”

“If they let you.” Lani scoffs.

“Even if they don’t, I’ll still take a look around. I just figured I should ask first. Give them a chance to do the right thing.”

“Good idea. My money is on a big fat no, though.”

“Probably.” We fall into silence for a moment. “So, how is she? Mentally I mean.”

“Shaken up. Still doesn’t know her name. Gibson ran her through the system, so we’re hoping something will show up. We’ll know more tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Will do. You know, she probably would like to see you.”

“Me? Why?”

“You saved her. Right now, you’re the friendliest face she knows.”

“You’re friendly.”

Lani laughs. “I am delightful, but I’m not the guy who pulled her out of a creek. I’m just saying, maybe swing by and check in.”

“I don’t see how I would help.”

“Because, my dear brother, you have a comforting nature about you. When you’re not being a total pain in the rear.”

I snort. “I’ll think about it.” Truth is I’d love to see her again. If only to assure myself that she’s going to survive. Seeing her draped over that branch, unsure if she were alive or dead…it threw me right back into everything I’ve been trying to forget.

“Fine. Be difficult,” she says. “I didn’t want to pull this out, but you should know—she asked about you.”

“She did? Why not lead with that?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated. I thought you’d want to come by to check on her yourself.”

“I do.”

“Then what’s the hang-up?”

She looks like the ghost haunting me. “Nothing. I’ll swing by tomorrow.” My tone is clipped now with frustration at myself for not checking on her sooner and irritation that my sister is pushing me to do it. If she notices, though, Lani couldn’t care less.

“Great. Well, I’m pulling up in front of my apartment. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, Elliot! Love ya!”

“Love you too, Lani.”

The call ends, and I toss my phone onto the bed then head into the bathroom. I stop in front of the sink and grip both sides of it, staring at my reflection. So many times, I’ve tried to bury what happened that night three years ago. A mission that went awry from the first moment we took it. I lost more than anyone knows that night.

The same red hair swims into my memory, though Renee’s eyes were hazel, not green. And the sight of them frozen open will forever be branded into my mind.

No matter how badly I wish otherwise.

* * *

The coffee might as well be mocking me with how little it’s doing to curb my exhaustion. I tossed and turned all night then spent three hours working myself into a sweat and hoping exercise would exhaust me enough that I’d pass out.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

“You look out of it. You okay?” Riley questions, taking a bite of his pancakes. Since Dylan and Tucker left for a quick search and rescue in Florida and Bradyn is handling ranch business, Riley and I met for breakfast at the Pine Creek Café downtown.

“Fine, why?”

He eyes me. “You know why.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Jane Doe shares some similarities with Renee.”

Hearing him say her name is like a dagger to my heart. “She’s not Renee.”

“I know that,” he replies. “I just want to make sure you do, too.”

It shouldn’t surprise me that he knows where my head’s at. We’re all like that with each other—all four of my brothers and I can read each other like an open book. Lani too. Side effect of growing up so close. While it comes in handy occasionally, right now, I wish I could hide the pain that’s been resurfacing ever since I pulled Jane Doe out of that creek.

“I do know,” I snap then take a drink of my coffee.

“Good.” He’s not at all bothered by the irritation in my tone. “Now that that’s covered. What do we know about our mystery woman?”

“Nothing. But the local police will handle it, so there’s not much we need to know.”

He arches a dark brow. “I thought we were spending our afternoon at the Jackson’s place to look into this.”

“Sure, but that’s only because, if they think local police are sniffing around, they won’t play ball. If we go and find something, we can alert the authorities. If we don’t, then we can let them know that too.”

He arches a dark brow. “You’re not taking this case?”

“Why would I?”

He continues staring at me. “Why wouldn’t you? The woman has no idea who she is or who shot her. Given that we find people, both sides of this case are what we do.”

“Except for one thing. She didn’t ask for our help.”

“Neither did Kennedy.”

I eye him in frustration. “That’s different.”

“Two women in danger. Sure, the circumstances are different, but as far as I’m concerned, they’re two sides of the same coin.”

Arguing with Riley is futile. He always has a response to everything. It would come as no surprise to anyone that debate was something he excelled at when we were homeschooled. So much so that my mom had him join a debate team that competed all over the country. But I cannot take this case. Beyond dealing with the Jacksons, nothing good can come of my involvement. She looks too similar to Renee. And I’m still too broken. Untrusting of myself.

I’ll do what I said and swing by the hospital to check in, but that has to be it. Last night proves that. “Fine. Then you take it.”

“I’m busy already.”

“With what?”

“Leg work for a new case that came in last night.” He finishes off his coffee. “You, however, have nothing on your plate.”

“Doesn’t mean this will fit on it.”

“Sure it does.”

“She never even asked for our help.” That familiar suffocating panic sets in, something I’ve been dealing with since I lost Renee. I try to shove it down, but it rears its ugly head over and over again, determined to drown me in my past mistakes.

“Probably because she doesn’t know you can offer it.”

I see his logic, but the idea of getting any closer to her is terrifying. She’s too familiar and a complete stranger all at the same time. “The cops will find something.”

“The cops are burdened by red tape,” he says with a knowing grin. “A condition we are not afflicted with.”

I glare at him, that vise squeezing so hard it might as well be suffocating me. “Why are you so insistent on me taking this case?”

“Other than because I truly believe we’re her best hope at getting answers?” He arches a brow. “I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Good for me. Why? Because you think I’m holding on to the past?”

He leans back and studies me. “I know you’re holding on to the past. You haven’t worked a solo missing persons case since Renee.”

“I needed time.”

“What happened to her wasn’t your fault, brother, and if you keep blaming yourself for it, you’re going to spend your life in suffering.”

“It was my fault. I missed the connection.”

“We all did, Elliot. None of us saw it until it was too late.”

My throat constricts, but I fight the grief back down. “It’s been three years. I’m fine.”

“Then where were you on March second?”

I swallow hard, hating that my brothers know me so well. “It was her birthday. I always visit on her birthday. That doesn’t mean I’m holding on to the past; that just means I want to offer support.”

“Gotcha. Then did you actually go in this time?”

His words are a punch to the gut. “They don’t want to see me.”

Riley takes a drink of his coffee. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not holding on to the past, then.”