Page 39 of Once Vanished

“No other cars,” Bill observed, scanning the empty road stretching in both directions.

“Maybe he parked elsewhere.Or came on foot.”But even as she said it, Riley knew it was unlikely.This place was isolated, the nearest town fifteen minutes by car.

“Or maybe he’s not here at all,” Bill said softly, voicing her own growing suspicion.

Riley pushed open her door.She stood, stretching her legs after the drive, and surveyed their surroundings.The woods looked peaceful, ordinary.Birds called to one another among the branches.The wind sighed through the trees.Nothing suggested the horror that had unfolded here years ago.Nothing suggested anyone had been here recently.

“Let’s check it out anyway,” she said, retrieving her weapon from its holster.“We need to be sure.”

Bill nodded in agreement as they left the road and entered the woods.The path wasn’t marked, but Riley didn’t need signs to guide her.Her feet remembered the way, stepping over fallen logs and skirting bramble patches.

“I’ve informed Hogue we’re checking the site,” Bill said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.“He’s got a team on standby if we need them.”

Riley worried again about how tired both she and Bill were.In all the years they’d worked together, she’d never once had to question his support.But now something seemed to have changed.With emotions running high and the stakes impossibly personal, she felt an unspoken tension between them.

The forest floor was springy beneath their feet, cushioned with years of accumulated pine needles and decaying leaves.

“No footprints,” Bill observed, crouching to examine the ground.“No broken branches or disturbed vegetation.If someone came this way recently, they were extremely careful.”

“Or they didn’t come through here at all,” Riley said, her certainty growing with each step they took.

They continued in silence, the only sounds their measured breathing and the occasional snapping twig beneath their feet.Riley tried to focus on the present moment—the air filling her lungs, the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above, the solid presence of Bill beside her—but her mind kept slipping backward in time.

The woods had looked different that night.Darker.Malevolent.Each shadow had seemed to conceal a threat; each sound had been magnified by her fear.She had moved through the trees with her heart in her throat, guided only by the distant sounds of struggle and her desperate need to reach her daughter.

“Riley,” Bill’s voice pulled her back to the present.“We’re close.”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice.The sound of flowing water reached her ears now, growing louder with each step.Through the trees ahead, she could see sunlight reflecting off the river’s surface.

They emerged from the woods onto a small rise overlooking the water.The river flowed past them, wide and deep, its surface rippled by the wind.Directly below, a narrow strip of muddy bank gave way to the water.There was nothing remarkable about this spot—nothing to suggest it was different from any other bend in the river.Nothing except the memories that crashed over Riley like the current below.

Her knees threatened to buckle, and she reached out instinctively, her hand finding Bill’s arm for support.

“Easy,” he murmured, steadying her.

Riley closed her eyes, but that only made the images more vivid.She was back there again, wading knee-deep into the river, the cold water numbing her legs, the shotgun heavy in her hands.Ahead of her, Peterson stood with April, his arm locked around her neck, a gun pressed to her temple.April’s face had been pale in the moonlight, her eyes wide with terror, but there had been something else there too—a fierce determination that mirrored Riley’s own.

April hadn’t been a passive victim.She had fought, had managed to escape briefly before Peterson recaptured her and brought her to this river, thinking the remote location would give him privacy for what he planned to do.

Riley opened her eyes, the present slowly reasserting itself around her.Bill was watching her with concern, his hand still supporting her elbow.

“Leo’s not here,” Riley said, her voice raw.“He never was.”

“Let’s be thorough,” Bill suggested gently.“Check the area.”

They made their way down the sloping bank to the water’s edge, moving carefully on the slick mud.Riley’s gaze was drawn to a particular spot where the bank jutted slightly into the river.That was where it had happened, where Peterson had dragged April into the shallows, where Riley had followed, her heart thundering.

The struggle had been swift and desperate.April, sensing her mother’s approach, had twisted violently in Peterson’s grasp, breaking free just long enough to throw his aim off.Riley had fired, missing Peterson but creating enough distraction for April to lunge away.

Peterson had turned his weapon toward Riley then, but in his rage, he’d stepped too close.Riley had dropped the shotgun, grabbed a rock from the riverbed, and swung it with all her strength.The impact had sent Peterson reeling backward, blood streaming from his temple, his gun slipping from his grasp and disappearing beneath the dark water.

Riley had retrieved the shotgun, advancing on Peterson as he struggled to regain his footing.She had stood over him, the barrel pointed at his chest, her finger steady on the trigger.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” she’d told him, her voice eerily calm despite the storm raging inside her.

Peterson had looked up at her, his eyes glittering with hatred and something else—a grudging respect.

“You taught the kid well,” he’d sneered.“She’s got the makings of a killer, just like her mother.”