Page 1 of High Country Escape
Chapter One
Roxanne Byrne had a lot of practice starting over. Some might say she specialized in picking up the pieces and building a new life. New job, new home, new people who didn’t know her history—she had the routine down pat by now.
But this time was going to be different. This fresh start would be the one that led to the comfortable rut she was looking for—the place where she finally fit. First of all, she had chosen the perfect setting, she thought, as she turned onto the postcard-cute main street of Eagle Mountain, Colorado. The town’s main drag was lined with shops and restaurants, all decorated with pumpkins and baskets of crimson and gold mums and notices of fall sales. Mountains rose up beyond the town, the peaks already dusted with a sifting of snow. The small town had a good mix of locals and newcomers, tourists and residents. A recent upgrade in internet services made it possible for her to work remotely, and the mountains and forests offered the contact with nature Roxanne found healing. She was going to be happy here.
She parked her slate-gray Toyota RAV4—another new addition to her life—in front of Java Moose Coffee and sighed. This was it. Day one of the new Roxanne.
She glanced over as a black Volkswagen Beetle slid into the parking space next to her and a woman emerged from the driver’s seat, her long, straight hair the same deep maroon as the flowers filling a half whiskey barrel beside the door of the shop. She smiled at Roxanne as their eyes met, revealing slightlycrooked front teeth. A nervous flutter ran through Roxanne and she looked away, then hurried into the shop.
The woman followed. Suddenly self-conscious, Roxanne avoided looking at her and joined the queue at the counter. When it was her turn, the barista, a curvy blonde wearing a purple sweaterdress and black boots, greeted her with a dazzling smile. “What would you like today?” the woman asked.
“A London Fog, please,” Roxanne said.
“Anything else?”
“No thank you.”
“Name?”
Roxanne hesitated. Most of the time she made up something. She didn’t like people knowing who she was. But this was her new home, and she hoped to visit this coffee shop often. “Roxanne,” she said, then added, “I just moved to town.”
“Welcome to Eagle Mountain, Roxanne. I’m May. I’ll have that tea right to you.”
Roxanne moved aside to allow the redhead to order. She asked for hot chocolate, then made her way to a table in the corner. Roxanne relaxed a little. She couldn’t say why the redhead had put her on edge so. There was nothing familiar about the woman. And it wasn’t a female she was worried about, anyway. She inhaled slowly, counting to four, held the breath for four, then let it out, counting to six. She didn’t have anything to worry about. She was safe here. She needed to remember that.
“Here’s that London Fog.” A few seconds later, May handed the drink over the counter. “Enjoy.”
Roxanne carried her cup to a small table by the window. At the first sip of the creamy, sweet combination of Earl Grey tea, vanilla syrup and steamed milk, she smiled. She looked out the window at people passing on the street, in sweaters and jeans, fleece jackets and boots. The September air held a clean crispness that hinted at new school years, upcoming ski seasonsand the holidays lurking just ahead. All kinds of reasons to celebrate.
To new beginnings, she thought, and sipped the tea again.
“Excuse me. I don’t mean to intrude, but are you Cheryl Roxanne Bingham?”
Ice speared Roxanne and she hastily set down her cup before she dropped it. She stared up at the redhead, who now stood beside her table, a question in her blue eyes. “I was sure it was you,” the woman continued. “Then I heard you tell the barista your name was Roxanne and I mean—it’s not that common a name, is it?”
“Who are you?” Roxanne demanded.
“I’m not a reporter or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Uninvited, the woman slid into the chair opposite Roxanne. “My name is Debra Percy. I just want to talk to you for a minute. I think you can help me.”
“Help you with what?” As soon as she asked the question, she realized the trap she had fallen into. She should have sent the woman on her way or gotten up and left. She didn’t know this person and she didn’t want to be drawn into whatever she was about. But it was too late now. She sat frozen in place, unable to make herself get up and leave.
Debra leaned across the table, her voice low and confiding. “I’m looking for my sister, Bettina. Bettina Percy. She was three years older than me. She disappeared when I was ten and she was thirteen. We think William Ledger took her.”
Roxanne closed her eyes and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the name. Debra didn’t say anything in the long silence that followed, but when Roxanne opened her eyes, Debra was watching her, blue eyes bright and alert. “You know the name, I can tell,” Debra said. “You are Cheryl Bingham, aren’t you?”
“I don’t use that name anymore,” Roxanne said. “I changed it. How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy.” Debra sipped her hot chocolate and licked the foam from her upper lip. “It helped that you kept your middle name—Roxanne. But more importantly, I was determined. I’ll do anything to find out what happened to my sister.”
“I don’t know your sister,” Roxanne said. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
She had wasted the words. Debra plunged on, determined to tell her story. “Her name was Bettina, but we always called her Betty. But maybe Ledger called her something else. He did that, didn’t he? Gave new names to the girls he kept?”
Roxanne clenched her teeth, feeling sick. Still, she said nothing. But her thoughts were screaming in her head.You have no right to do this. You have no right to make me remember.
“I read in the papers that he called you Mary. And there was another girl found with you—Alice. Only that wasn’t her real name, either, was it?”
Roxanne’s eyes widened. “Was your sister Alice?” She had always wondered what happened to Alice, but had never heard anything more about the other girl Ledger had kidnapped. The one he had taken before her.