Page 16 of Mystery at Rescue Ridge (Rescue Ridge #5)

T he long rectangular box filled with adult toys and feathery G-strings sat in the middle of the bedroom on the carpet. A creepy feeling overtook Owen, like he was peeking into someone’s very personal journal, where innermost, private thoughts were now on display.

He backed away, sat down, and stretched out his legs, unable to study the contents.

“I’m speechless,” Evie said after long minutes of silence. He could only imagine the thoughts racing through her mind about the discoveries. How little she’d known her sister. He couldn’t imagine being in a scenario like this one with any of his siblings.

Evie plopped down on her sweet backside. “Why didn’t she tell me she was having money problems?”

A few reasons came to mind. “Pride, for one. She’s your older sister and wouldn’t want to admit to being desperate for money.”

“I thought we told each other everything.” She frowned. “That we were each other’s confidants. What does this say about our relationship? About how much she trusted me?”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Is there another? Because I’d love to hear it.”

He rubbed the day-old scruff on his chin. “This must have seemed like the best way to make enough money to support the family while being here for her children. As far as admitting to not having enough money, pride will do that to you. She might not have wanted to burden you with her troubles.”

“I didn’t call enough,” she said on a deep exhale. “She would’ve told me if I’d kept in touch, or I would’ve figured it out.”

“Folks tell you what they want you to know. Take my half-brother, for instance. The man was hidden from us for more than three decades.”

“No offense, but I would expect a secret like that from Beaumont.”

He appreciated that she never referred to the man as your father. And he couldn’t argue her point.

“Simone was the picture of all things good,” she said.

“No one is perfect, Evie.”

“You are,” she blurted out. Her cheeks heated like she was embarrassed and wished she could take back those words the second they left her mouth.

“I can assure you that I am most certainly not.”

Evie opened her mouth to speak, no doubt to argue, but then clamped it shut.

“Though I may not cheat on my taxes or girlfriends for that matter, I’m generally accused of not speaking up when I should, I don’t pick up my clothes off the floor if I miss the basket, and I can be a real jerk when I want to be.”

Her lips pinched, and her eyebrow shot up in disbelief. Her emotions had become readable to him a long time ago.

“What?”

“You? A jerk? Never.”

“Then, you’re going to have to tell me what I did to make you run away from our friendship,” he said.

Once again, Evie clamped her lips shut. She didn’t make eye contact, which made it next to impossible to tell what she was thinking.

She called into the next room, “Hey, Travis. We found something in here that you should see.”

Owen got up and left the room.

Evie bit back a string of curse words. A growing part of her wanted to come clean with Owen.

She wanted to tell him that she’d fallen in love with him and had had to walk away for her own sanity’s sake.

She’d watched him date in high school, and it had nearly cracked her heart in two.

There was no way she would’ve been able to sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else, get married, and start a family. Not see it and keep her sanity, too.

Leaving and cutting off communication had been the best of bad options. The fact that he was still single and determined never to have kids didn’t mean he couldn’t have already met the love of his life.

Travis appeared in the doorway.

“Come in,” she said, equal parts embarrassed and sad for Simone.

She obviously felt like she had to put on a perfect front for everyone else while doing what she saw as necessary to take care of her family.

Evie had bought every line about the fake business Simone had talked about.

Believing her sister had been a habit, reflex.

Simone had never given Evie a reason to doubt or question her.

She thought it was funny how once you made up your mind about someone, you easily bought into the picture they fed you, even when it was a lie.

Travis stood over the box, taking mental inventory of the contents.

“Did Simone pick up a stalker? Is that what this is all about? The hiker?” she asked.

“The evidence points us in the direction of someone who became obsessed with her,” he confirmed.

“And now that person believes I’m my sister, correct?”

Travis frowned. “That’s a safe assumption.” He bent down to get a closer look. “You and Owen mentioned picking up security equipment today. Is that plan still on?”

“I believe so.” If she hadn’t run him off by dodging his question about the past. How did she tell him that he hadn’t done anything wrong? That he’d been a little too perfect, in fact? And she’d decided ripping the Band-Aid off was a far better choice for her?

If she’d admitted to her feelings back then, their friendship would have been ruined anyway. You were too chicken to find out, weren’t you?

Those words stung. Did that mean there was some truth to them?

Either way, she’d lost her best friend. If she didn’t explain what happened, would she lose Owen a second time?

Olivia belted out a post-nap cry. Evie glanced at the clock as she got up. It was 2:48. Ms. Bart would be here in less than fifteen minutes. “The babysitter will be here at three.”

Travis nodded. “I’ll want to interview her.” He glanced at the box and then back at her. “I’ll have to ask if she was aware of your sister’s activities.”

“You will?” Evie hated to hear that. Ms. Bart was definitely a member of the Saddle Junction community. Gossip would spread faster than wildfire on dry grass.

“I’m afraid so.”

She realized interviewing Ms. Bart might just be the key to unlocking the case. “I understand.”

“I’ll ask for her discretion,” Travis promised.

“I appreciate it. Preserving my sister’s memory is important to me, especially for the kids’ sake.”

“I understand even more so now that I’m a father.”

Of course, he would. She thanked him and headed toward the kids’ bedroom. As she crossed the living room, she caught sight of Owen standing at the kitchen window, looking out while nursing a cup of coffee.

The floor creaked underneath her step. He didn’t turn to look at her.

As she entered the hallway, she heard Ms. Bart pull up. Evie turned toward the door.

“I got it,” was all Owen said, no emotion present in his voice. The wall that had come up between them was as thick as a concrete slab.

Maybe it was for the best.

The cries softened as Evie stepped into the nursery. Luca was at the crib, doing his best to soothe his sister with a pacifier.

“Thank you, Luca,” she said, patting the little boy on top of the head as she approached the crib.

He rubbed sleepy eyes. “She’s too loud.”

“Yes, she is,” Evie said with a smile. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

He shook his head. “I want to play trucks.”

“Do you need to go potty first?”

He nodded and then took off toward the bathroom.

Olivia blinked up at Evie. The little girl had her mother’s eyes.

A fresh wave of emotion welled up. She realized that she would do anything for these kids and could only imagine how much more intense the feeling would be if she was their actual mother.

Evie couldn’t be upset with her sister for doing what she’d believed was necessary.

At this point, she was mainly hurt that her sister hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her what was really going on.

There had to be a money trail somewhere.

Venmo? PayPal? Did one Zelle pay for chat time with an adult entertainer?

After changing Olivia’s diaper, Evie joined the others at the dining table. Ms. Bart sat there, twisting her fingers together as she glanced around the room.

“We should take the kids in the other room to play, so the sheriff can speak to Ms. Bart,” Owen said, picking up Luca’s favorite truck.

Luca bounded into the room with a big smile on his face. “Yay. Truck,” he said. His face lit up every time the boy saw Owen with a toy.

“Did you have a good nap?” Ms. Bart asked.

Luca ran over to her, and she gave him a big hug.

It was clear Ms. Bart loved the children.

Her disdain for Evie was probably born out of fear that she would mess up.

The uptight older woman let go of Luca and then picked up her handbag, clutching it to her chest like she needed to hang onto something.

Evie grabbed the baby monitor from the kids’ room, walked back into the dining area, and set it on the table. To be clear, she wanted to hear everything that went on while distracting the children.

When she returned, she set the speaker down on the floor between her and Owen. Luca sat on a bouncy ball with a handle, jumping around the room. Good idea to get his energy out.

“Once the interview is over, we can head into town if you’re still up for it,” she said.

Now that she realized Size Eleven was after her, she felt safer leaving the kids in the house with Ms. Bart.

With the object of his obsession off property, there’d be no reason for him to attempt to enter the home.

Plus, it was daytime, and the sun was shining.

Olivia sat on her bottom, playing with one of those everything toys that was three feet high and had all kinds of bells and whistles on it, meant to educate and, Evie figured, distract children so their parents could get a break. Parenting was harder than Evie had ever imagined possible.

“Okay,” Owen said. The word came out in practically a grunt.

She folded her arms across her chest. “If you have something else to take care of, feel free to—”

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“What?”

“Trying to kick me out?”

The words struck like physical blows. “I wasn’t tr—”

“Don’t BS me, Evie. We both know you keep jumping to the conclusion that I have something better to do than to be here, helping you. What I can’t figure out is why you keep looping back to that.”

“You’re mad at me, for one.”

“Yes,” he said. At least he didn’t try to deny it. “We’ve been in fights before.”

“I’m just trying to give you an out.”

“Have I asked for one?”

“No,” she said. He’d done nothing but stick by her side, chase Size Eleven, and play with the kids. Oh, and feed her.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten or offered lunch.

“I’m in over my head here,” she said, then shrugged. “I have to stay. You don’t.”

“Not everyone runs at the first sign of trouble.”

Again, those words were barbs.

“If I promise to tell you everything once this is over, will you leave the subject alone until the…” she glanced over at the babies and decided not to give them a lesson in foul language, “Size Eleven is caught?”

Before he could answer, Travis asked Ms. Bart her full name.

“Naomi Jocelyn Bart, nee Smith.”

“Where do you live?” Travis asked.

She rattled off her address.

“How often did you babysit for Simone Ashworth?”

“Five days a week. Monday through Friday from ten o’clock in the morning until four, most days.”

“Did you work weekends?”

“No, sir.”

“Not ever?”

“No, sir.”

“You were never asked to sit with the kids while Ms. Ashworth went out with friends or on a date?”

“No, sir. Simone never left the children except to go to the store, which is where I came in.”

“Did she go anywhere besides the store?”

“To the gym,” Ms. Bart supplied. “For the stress she was under. It was her release.”

Evie knew the real reason her sister went to the gym. To look good on camera. She glanced at Owen and realized he’d had the exact same thought.

“How did Ms. Ashworth make money?”

Evie leaned a little closer to the speaker. Owen did the same, and they almost banged heads. His soft cedar-musk scent filled her senses. Why did he have to smell so damn good?

“Something to do with the internet,” Ms. Bart said.

The woman was giving as little information as possible.

Was she being protective of Simone? It warmed Evie’s heart to think someone else had cared so much about her sister.

That she hadn’t, in fact, been completely alone.

It assuaged some of the guilt for the non-visits.

Simone had built a life here in Saddle Junction.

She’d been doing what she’d believed necessary to provide for her children.

Had Evie really been living in Dallas? She’d all but stopped dating the last couple of years.

She’d buried herself with work, which was great for job security but not so much for her mental well-being.

She could admit that life in Dallas had been lonely on the rare days she hadn’t worked.

Even when she’d been required to arrange a shoot, she’d been scouting locations or skimming magazines for new ways to present places.

She’d dropped out of the monthly dinner club at work last year, where a handful of co-workers had taken turns cooking and hosting the small group.

Glancing down at her thighs, she noted the effects of cutting off her gym membership.

And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to brunch with friends.

Friends? She nearly laughed aloud. You have to make an effort if you want to have friends .

Was that a life?

“Do you know what kind of internet business Ms. Ashworth ran?”

The speaker went dead quiet.

“Oh, hold on a sec,” Evie said to Owen, who picked up on the same thing. She caught his gaze. “Will you sit with the kids for a second?”

“Of course. Go.”

Evie darted into the next room, needing to hear the response in person. She folded her arms against her chest and leaned into the doorframe. Her gaze lasered in on Ms. Bart.

The woman’s body language was tense, uptight. She shifted in her seat and clutched her handbag closer to her chest. Not a word came out of her mouth.

“Ms. Bart.”

“Do I have to answer that?”