Page 33

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

Buddy races along the shoreline of Pine Ridge Lake and his joyful barks cut through the quiet of the early afternoon. I walk along the damp sand barefoot while wrapped in a reflective silence.

The lake is filled with the last vestiges of summer as adults and children alike scream and splash their way into the crystal blue water. It’s the other side of the lake that’s teeming with life. That’s where the plethora of tourist traps lie, where the summer camps hold their participants hostage.

An entire fleet of boats careen around the middle of the lake, from fishing pontoons to families catching some rays, and a handful of those boats are hauling inflatables on their back end as the occupants scream with delight.

The side of the lake that sits below Whispering Woods is tranquil for the most part, and I suppose we have the marsh that eats up most of the shoreline to thank for that. The sun is warm on my back, warming up the oil from the pines as well as they release their sweet scent into the air.

I soak it all in.

I know soon enough fall will be here, then winter, and I’ll be dreaming of doing this right here, just praying for the warmth of the sun to transport me to summer one more time.

I think I’ll rent a kayak.

Heck, I should see about picking up a used one and taking it out whenever I like. It’s too nice of a day not to be out on the lake. And I bet Buddy would love it, too.

He comes back with a glossy wet stick and I throw it as far as I can before he’s on the chase again.

It’s been a week since Vanessa Copeland’s arrest, a week since the chaos of the reunion gave way to a semblance of peace.

The lake, with its gentle waves lapping at the shore, seems a world away from the chaos we faced.

Nikki did a little research after I disappeared from the gym and discovered that Vanessa’s mother did, in fact, own a few more properties. One was a retail space in downtown Denver, another was a condo, and the third was a secluded lodge out in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, that’s where Jack and Nikki decided to begin their search. My phone was found in the parking lot of the school, so that wouldn’t have helped in pinning down my location.

It turned out, Vanessa gave me one heck of a concussion. The hospital kept me overnight just to make sure my brain didn’t decide to bleed out. Jack insisted on staying by my side, holding vigil all night long despite the fact I told him to go away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he held my hand the entire time and I didn’t protest. That’s because I didn’t mind. It scares me a little how I seem to not mind him more and more as time goes by.

That’s not the plan here.

The plan is to track down my sister and bring her back to Pine Ridge Falls, kicking and screaming if I have to.

At one point during my brief hospital stay, my head pounded so hard I thought I’d vomit out my brain. It was Jack who rallied on my behalf and made sure I had the best that modern medicine could provide. I think he just liked seeing me high and off my rocker for a bit. I hope I didn’t say anything stupid. In fact, I’m sure I did.

I bite down on a smile. Somewhere in that drugged haze, I distinctly remember telling him that he had kissable lips. Here’s hoping he’s forgotten. Although I’m not sure why I can’t seem to.

Before I was released to go home, Derek Russell stopped by. He wanted to personally thank me for Vanessa’s arrest. He thanked Jack, too, and invited us both back to the Penalty Box for a free steak dinner on him. Now that’s an offer neither of us can refuse.

And while the families of Robin Hanson and Sophie Clarke did get some closure, justice is never truly enough when it doesn’t bring your loved one back from the grave.

That’s the hard part about this job. All of what we do is after the fact, when it’s too late for someone to make a real difference. But we do what we can. That’s all we can do.

Buddy brings back the stick, and I give his vanilla fur coat a few quick pats for the effort.

“You’re a good boy, Buddy. I’m glad you’re mine.”

“Baxter,” someone calls out from a distance and both Buddy and I turn toward the cabin, only to find two figures standing on my back porch.

Buddy gives a firm bark as he bolts in that direction and I follow suit, albeit a little slower and minus the bark.

It’s Jack and Nikki, already making themselves at home at the small table I have set out. And by the looks of it, there’s a pizza box between them.

Jack doles out the first slice to Buddy just as I reach them.

“I didn’t know we were having a party,” I tease as I fall into the seat between them.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asks while sliding a cold bottle of iced tea my way. He’s got on shorts and a T-shirt. A baseball cap shields his eyes from the sun, and that dark scruff makes his blue eyes shine, but I try not to stare too much. Nikki looks as if she just finished one of her Pilates sessions with her hair tossed up into a messy bun, clad in mint green yoga wear.

I’m glad the three of us get along so well. I knew they’d be my coworkers, I didn’t realize they’d be my friends.

“I’m feeling much better, especially now. And thank you,” I say, lifting my drink to the two of them. “To what do I owe the honors?”

Jack scratches his chin while nodding over at Nikki as if giving her the go-ahead on something.

“We have news,” she says, pulling her laptop out of her bag and quickly clicking onto the keyboard.

Jack nods my way. “Your sister was spotted in Clearwater Springs.”

“That’s near Castle Rock.” I spike straight up in my seat as my heart does its best to punch its way out of my chest, mostly from relief. “That’s less than a half hour away. Where is she? Who is she with?” My body jerks as if it were ready to jump into my truck.

“She was here,” Nikki says, turning her laptop my way and I’m treated to what looks like security footage from the interior of a grocery store. “Jack and I found some old pictures of Erin and shot them through the database. This one came up. The store had a theft a few weeks back and the feed from the security footage is still on file. Is that her?” She zooms in on a redhead, dark hair coming in at the roots. She has on a flower printed dress that reaches the floor, and she seems to be speaking with a man. He’s tall, broad shoulders, elongated features, wearing a suit, and looks to be in his sixties.

I zoom in on the woman’s face and my entire body starts to thump with a heartbeat of its own.

“That’s her,” I say, pointing to the screen. “You did it. You found Erin.” A tiny laugh reverberates through my chest. “And it looks as if she’s helping someone find something. That’s just like her.”

“That’s no random stranger,” Jack says, staring sternly at the screen. “The footage shows them meeting up at the front of the store. They do a little shopping. He pays for her goods and he gives her what looks to be a wad of cash as they head into the parking lot.”

My heart races again, this time with terror.

“We ran his face,” Jack says it low as if the news wouldn’t be good. Silently, I’m praying that’s not some pimp. Although that might make both of them easy to track down. “His name is Marco Rossi. He’s a henchman for the Moretti crime family. They’re stationed mostly right here out of Denver.”

“What the heck?” I shake my head at the screen. “What could she possibly have to do with him?”

“I don’t know.” Jack reaches over and clasps his hand over mine. “But we’re going to find out.”

“Thank you,” I say, gripping onto him with a death squeeze. “Thank you both. Now let’s eat pizza,” I say, trying to sound jovial despite the fact I’m worried sick over what my sister might be getting herself into.

You don’t mess with the mob, but then you shouldn’t mess with a cult either. And for all the smarts my sister once possessed, I’m starting to wonder if she set them on fire along the way.

Buddy gives a happy bark and we all toss him a piece of our crust.

But before we can finish our meals, our phones go off with a message from Hale.

Jack groans as he glances at his screen. “Bodies discovered out at a cabin in Sugar Pine Lake. Two dead, one injured, one missing from the scene. He says it was a writers’ retreat gone wrong.”

“Just found a headline,” Nikki says, staring at her phone. “Mystery authors looking for respite find murder.”

“Let’s get going,” Jack says as the three of us jump from our seats.

I nod his way. “It’s time to write our own ending to this story.”

The end