Chapter 4
P olly heated the milk in the pitcher, Joel on her mind. He’d been on her mind for days. No matter how hard she tried to push him out, he was there.
His calming voice as he’d told her to breathe.
His callused thumb as it had stroked her cheek.
Gah.
Strangely, she didn’t care that he knew she was claustrophobic.
No one else but Maggie knew about that. Even her mother didn’t know.
It wasn’t that she was trying to hide it.
Her mother obviously knew about the day one of her stepdads had locked her inside the toy box where she’d been hiding.
She’d just never shared the long-term consequences.
But then, she and her mother had never had that kind of relationship.
They had a light, fluffy relationship. One where whenever deeper topics were brought up—like, maybe Olivia should slow it down on the dating—her mother changed the subject. To something easy, like her new rug or the new show she couldn’t stop watching.
A lot of the time she resented her mother for that. But she’d also gotten used to it.
Her phone dinged with a text.
Joel: Morning, Sunshine. Coming to the town meeting tonight?
Her heart gave a little kick. He’d messaged yesterday, and the day before too, and her heart had done the exact same thing.
Polly: Maybe.
Joel: Want me to save you a seat?
She couldn’t help it—she smiled.
Crap, the milk was going cold. She finished the coffee and took it over to Eli Cox, where she set it down. “Here you go, Deputy.”
“When I’m not in uniform, Eli is fine, Polly.”
Out of everyone at the station, Eli was the only person who seemed to actually care and do his job. He was in his mid-fifties, and at times even seemed to be able to sway Ward to look into things a bit more thoroughly. Of course, there were limits.
She set her hands on her hips. “Have you got the day off?”
“I do. And I plan to do as little as possible.”
“Sounds like my kind of day. Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
She headed over to clear a table by the flowers. Two women sat not too far away, beside the window. Even though they spoke quietly, Polly easily heard their conversation.
“I bumped into one of them at the grocery store yesterday. He touched my arm to steady me, and I swear I would have let him impregnate me there and then.”
Oh brother . She rolled her eyes.
“Which one?” the blond asked, sounding far too excited.
“He said his name was Joel.”
Polly paused.
The blond gasped. “I read about him.”
She’d read about Joel? What did that even mean?
“What did you read?”
“That he’s a playboy. And when I say playboy, I mean he comes from money—a lot of it. His dad’s the CEO of Dawson Energy Services in Houston, a company that drills land for oil and makes shitloads of money.”
“That doesn’t make him a playboy,” the brunette said.
“No. But he went home to Houston after leaving the military and was seen with a new woman on his arm every weekend. That makes him a playboy. Look it up. I bet he’s the kind of guy who’s so smooth, he says whatever a woman wants to hear. Then when he’s done with her, he drops her.”
What. The. Hell.
Polly grabbed the remaining cup and speed-walked to the kitchen.
She told herself not to. Because she shouldn’t care. She didn’t care…
Dammit. She pulled her phone from her pocket and searched “Joel Dawson from Houston.”
Holy crap. It was true.
He was in dozens of articles. Report after report about the son of the CEO of Dawson Energy Services, dating obscene numbers of women. And these women were gorgeous. Tall. Beautiful. With perfect makeup and silky-looking hair.
Hurt wrapped around Polly’s chest even though it had no right doing so. Joel wasn’t anything to her, and he sure didn’t owe her anything. He could date whoever he wanted.
She locked her phone.
She wasn’t hurt. She was angry. At herself, for thinking, just for a moment after the whole cellar incident, that he might be different.
He wasn’t. He was just like every other man. Jumping from woman to woman, never satisfied with what he had.
Joel: Polly?
Her jaw clenched at Joel’s message.
Polly: I can get my own seat. Thanks.
“Are you okay?”
Her head shot up at her best friend’s voice. “Hey.”
Maggie frowned, her hazel eyes worried. “What’s wrong? Is it your mom?”
“No. It’s nothing.” She didn’t want to talk about Joel. She didn’t even want to think about him. “But I did ask you to come in so that I could show you something.”
“Oh, that’s intriguing.”
Polly grabbed her best friend’s wrist and tugged her toward the office. “I found something under the floorboards the other week.”
“If it’s a million dollars, I think it’s only fair you share with your best friend.”
“Nope, it’s—” She opened the second drawer and froze. It wasn’t there. She shuffled around some papers and envelopes. “What the hell? It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“There was a burner phone.”
“Someone put a burner phone in the floorboards?”
“Not just someone, a woman named Eileen. The phone is like ten years old—and this Eileen woman went missing ten years ago.” She rifled through the drawer some more.
Dammit.
“I don’t understand.”
“Maggie…” She turned to her best friend. “I think this woman was looking into the murder of your mother. And I think she linked the disappearances of two other women to the same case.”
Maggie stiffened. “What was on the phone to make you think that?”
“Photos of articles, one about your mother’s death, and the other two about missing women. Also photos. Of the river. Of the forest. And that old deserted house on the hill.”
Maggie’s nose wrinkled. “The creepy Connoway mansion?”
“Yes. And there was one text message thread.”
“Just one?”
“Yep, and in it, Eileen basically says to this person that she knows what they did. That they drugged these women with Rohypnol and drowned them.”
Some color left Maggie’s face. “That’s also how Priya Tan died.”
“Yep.”
“And what did the person respond?”
“That they know who she is. And that she was going to regret looking into them.”
That last scrap of color left Maggie’s face. “And then she went missing. We have to tell someone.”
“I’ve been calling Ward, but he keeps putting off a meeting. I planned to just take it into the station today, but now it’s gone.” She frowned at the drawer as if the phone would magically appear.
“I know Ward is terrible, but you still need to tell him,” Maggie said softly.
“I know. I will. I?—”
A floorboard creaked in the hall.
Polly rushed out to see a pale-faced Jenna, her regular nine-fifteen customer. “Jenna. Hey. Are you okay?”
“I…there was no one at the counter and I saw you head back here. I would have waited out there, but I’m in a rush. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think it’s been made yet, sorry, but I can get your order now.”
Jenna nodded, but the move was jerky.
Polly crossed to the counter and made the coffee. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked when she handed Jenna the to-go cup.
“Just late to work.” One tight smile, then Jenna paid and rushed out.
Joel frowned at the text from Polly. Was she saying she’d find her own seat in a playful way?
“You messaging Polly again?” Connor asked from behind the wheel.
“Yeah. She doesn’t want me to save her a seat at the town meeting, and I’m not sure how to take it.”
The corner of Connor’s lip kicked up. “You? Not understanding women? Never.”
“I don’t understand Polly . We’ve actually been getting along since we got stuck in that cellar.” He cocked his head and read the text again.
I can get my own seat. Thanks.
There definitely seemed like there was bite to her words.
“Shit, you really like her, don’t you?” Connor shot him a look of disbelief before shifting his gaze back to the road.
Joel shoved his cell into his pocket. “I know it’s crazy. The woman spends more time yelling at me than talking, but…I don’t know. She’s the first person I could actually picture myself dating.”
Not messing around with. Not having a quick fling with. Actually dating.
“Stealing her cinnamon roll at The Pancake Bar couldn’t have helped.” Connor laughed.
Joel’s lips twitched. “First of all, it was a joke. I bought the last roll with every intention of giving it to her, but she didn’t want it.”
“You’d already taken a bite.”
“Of course I did. It was the last one and, fuck, it smelled good. Something wrong with sharing food with me?”
“Hope that bite was worth it.” He pulled up in front of the very restaurant in question. “Come on. Let’s get lunch before the guys start blowing up our phones about where their pancakes are.”
Not everyone was getting pancakes. Ryan wanted fried chicken and eggs, and Zac had ordered an omelet. Hell if Joel knew why. The pancakes were death-row, last-meal kind of pancakes. Melt-in-your-mouth, dream-about-them kind.
Ward, the town sheriff, stood in front of the café, an older male deputy by his side.
Joel dipped his head and Connor gave them a hey, but Ward barely spared them a glance.
They were about to step inside when Ward’s radio crackled.
“Dispatch to Sheriff Ward. We’ve got a report of a missing female, approximately forty-two years old.
Employer states she didn’t show up to work this morning.
We’ve put out a BOLO for her vehicle, a red 2012 Subaru Outback and her colleague is requesting a welfare check. ” Then an address was rattled off.
Joel froze, and so did Connor.
A missing woman. Yes, it was only lunchtime, but if something had happened to her, the earlier they started the search, the better.
They closed in on Ward as he pulled out his radio, cold drink with cream on top in hand.
“Yeah, copy that. BOLO’s a bit premature. She’s probably playing hooky. I’ll swing by when I’m done here. Send me her name.” He sipped his drink, cream covering his upper lip before he licked it off.
Joel stopped beside the sheriff. He’d assumed Ward saw them, but when the guy turned, he jumped, some of his drink spilling onto his shirt.
He cursed. “What the hell are you boys doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“There’s a missing woman,” Joel repeated.
Ward sighed like both Joel and Connor were public nuisances and not members of the SAR team trying to keep the community safe.
“I know your little team likes to put their noses into everyone’s business, particularly mine, but this is strictly my domain.
Got it? And you’d do well to not listen in on my radio calls. ”
“We need her name,” Joel pushed, ignoring everything he’d just said.
Ward’s eyes narrowed. “I said drop it.”
Connor lifted his phone. “We’ll do a search of the forest.”
Ward’s cheeks reddened. “That’s not necessary.”
With no clues, it would be hard to know which section of forest to search. The land was huge.
“Did you hear me?” Ward called, as Joel and Connor started to turn. “This isn’t your concern.”
They stepped away—only to stop when Ward’s radio crackled again.
“Dispatch. We found the Subaru. It’s parked off Dandelion Road, approximately half a mile northeast of Traipse Trailhead. Plates match. No one in sight. Want me to hang tight for you?”
Joel stiffened, and Connor did the same. The woman was missing and her car was on the outskirts of the forest.
But Ward didn’t seem fazed. Not even a little bit.
He lifted his radio. “There’s no evidence she’s missing. She could still be playing hooky down at the river.”
Joel was done with this. He jogged to Connor’s truck, ignoring Ward’s calls behind them.
Connor climbed behind the wheel and dropped his cell into the middle console. “I just notified the team of the location.”
“Good.” Joel put the location into his GPS. “Five minutes.”
“It could be nothing,” Connor said quietly.
“You’re right. It could be nothing. I’d rather check out nothing, though, than sit on my ass and skip searching for a missing woman.”
They didn’t have to say it out loud to know they were both feeling it. This wasn’t nothing . And every second she was missing was a second that put her life in more danger.
Ryan was already at the Subaru, pack on, when they arrived. Connor pulled up at the same time as Ethan and Zac. The guys handed them each a pack.
“I see the patrol car isn’t here,” Joel growled.
So not only was Ward not doing anything himself, he was actively calling his guys off, even though they’d had two missing women and one dead in the last year.
Connor scowled. “Piece of shit.”
“No sign of the owner,” Ryan said to the team. “Ethan and Zac, you sweep west, adjacent the road. Watch for footprints and discarded items. Joel and Connor, you take the north slope, 300 meters out, focus on the river line and any trails. I’ll move south.”
The second Ryan finished, they were moving. Joel took the lead and Connor remained close behind. Their steps were fast and silent, and the closer they drew to the river, the louder the water became.
This was near where they’d discovered Priya Tan. She’d been lifeless in the water.
His gut swirled, but he forced himself to focus and move faster, the river coming into view. He scanned the bank, looking for footprints or disturbed earth, anything to indicate that someone had been here. That the woman had been here.
He felt like he was flying blind. He didn’t have a name or a physical description. But when push came to shove, they didn’t need any of that. Someone was missing, and if that someone was here, in this forest, they’d find them.
He’d been searching for about twenty minutes when he saw it.
Joel’s skin went cold.
A body. It was floating down the stream, face down.
Connor cursed and pulled out his radio.
As Connor alerted the team, Joel kicked off his shoes and dove into the water. The chill tightened his muscles, but he didn’t let it slow him. He kept his body beneath the surface as he swam, strong, determined strokes toward the woman.
He reached her in half the time it should have taken. Immediately, he slipped an arm under the woman’s and across her chest, her back pressed to his front. Then he used his free arm and legs to push back to the bank, a strong sidestroke.
The second he reached the shore, Connor took the woman and lay her on the ground. He touched her pulse.
Be alive. Please be alive, Joel whispered in his head.
Joel scanned her body. That’s when he saw it—a bullet wound to her chest. “She was shot.”
Connor looked up. And Joel knew, before a single word was spoken, exactly what was coming.
“She’s gone.”