Chapter 1
Chapter One
Tension coiled throughout Charlotte “Charlie” Wells’s body like a spring wound too tight as each small mountain town disappeared from her rearview mirror.
Winter in the mountains used to be one of her favorite times of the year. Snow skiing, ice skating, sledding. She’d once adored everything the mountains and winter had to offer.
But that was before. . .
Now, everything about winter and the town of Pine Haven, Colorado, reminded her of loss.
Winter weather continued to worsen the farther into the mountains she drove. Before leaving Washington D.C., she’d known there was a predicted blizzard lurking on the horizon in the mountains. She hadn’t cared. Charlie needed this time to prepare for what lay ahead.
The only good memory she had left of Pine Haven wouldn’t be here waiting for her.
Uncle Pete. He’d been there to catch her when her parents died in the house fire that would later send her fleeing Pine Haven forever.
For a year following their deaths as her world crumbled, Pete took her to his cabin and treated her like his daughter.
He did his best to help her recover from their loss.
But Charlie had known, if she ever stood a chance of moving on, she’d have to leave Pine Haven.
Now, Uncle Pete was gone. The call came from the last person she expected to hear from again. Ryan had found Pete slumped over in his favorite chair. Dead from an apparent heart attack.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner, Uncle Pete.
” Charlie whispered her regret into the darkness of the cab of her Nissan Pathfinder.
It’d been seven years. Though she and her uncle talked several times during the week, Charlie used the excuse of work keeping her away.
They both knew the truth. Too many ghosts claimed Pine Haven as their home in Charlie’s mind.
As a wildlife photographer, Charlie had barely been home a day from one of her trips when Ryan called.
Uncle Pete didn’t want a funeral. Ryan told her they’d wait to have Pete cremated until she had the chance to say goodbye.
It would be her job to scatter her uncle’s ashes across the land that he loved so much.
Snow continued to fall heavy, forcing the wipers into overdrive to keep up.
The knot in her stomach twisted as Charlie rounded the final curve leading into Pine Haven.
The sleepy mountain town spread out before her blanketed in snow.
The Rocky Mountains were backdropped behind the town like silent witnesses to the events taking place there.
All the secrets, the truths hidden in the dust of time were waiting to pounce.
Charlie braked hard. The SUV skidded in response, the brakes caught before she slid off the side of the mountain.
A shuddering breath escaped. Hands on the wheel shook. Fifteen years evaporated and she was back in that time. Her best friend had gone missing. Everyone in town turned out to search for Abby, only it was as if she’d disappeared through a wrinkle in time. Vanished without a trace.
And it was all Charlie’s fault.
Charlie could see something was troubling Abby. She said she needed to talk. Charlie agreed to sneak out that night and meet up at the bridge instead of encouraging Abby to wait until morning. The only smart one among them was Lila who had refused to go.
A winter storm had blown in earlier in the evening. Charlie had her misgivings about going out, but it was too late to call it off without alerting Abby’s parents. And so, she snuck out and waited.
Only Abby never showed.
“No.”
Charlie forced those memories back where they belonged.
She couldn’t change anything about that night, but she could bear the guilt of her part in the bad decision.
Abby was gone. Her uncle, the sheriff at the time, believed she’d been kidnapped not far from her home.
There were signs of tire tracks. Pete originally thought whoever took her had fled the area.
Through the years, Charlie had prayed a thousand prayers for answers. So far, God chose to remain silent.
Christmas lights twinkled on the storefronts along Main Street as she drove past the town she’d once called home.
Picture-perfect. To anyone else this place would seem like something straight out of Norman Rockwell’s small-town paintings.
To anyone but Charlie that is. She knew the truth.
And the cold knot in her gut served as a reminder of the ugly secret hidden beneath the tranquil outward appearance of Pine Haven.
Yet once you saw it, you could never go back to innocence.
At the edge of town, Charlie turned onto the county road that would take her farther into the mountains and home.
Home. The word stuck in her throat.
The last time she’d seen Pete in person stood out in her memory.
Seven years. She should have come home sooner.
He needed her. Pete had let the weight of what happened to Abby shadow his life as well.
Long after he retired from the sheriff’s office, he kept searching for answers.
Pete kept years of journals locked away with notes on the case.
He believed Abby’s disappearance was somehow connected to what happened to Charlie’s parents dying in the house fire.
Though the fire had been ruled an accident, Pete never believed it.
She and her uncle spoke several times during the week.
Recently, he’d talked a lot about what he wanted to happen when he passed away.
She hadn’t wanted to hear it, but he’d insisted she listen.
At the time, Pete told her it was just in case something were to happen.
Now she found herself going through every single one of their conversations looking for something she missed.
There had been something in his voice. Fear maybe?
The disturbing thought rippled through her mind. She’d never once seen Pete fearful.
Charlie asked him what was wrong, but like the strong lawman that he was, he hadn’t wanted to burden her.
The road turned to gravel beneath the layer of snow. On either side, blue spruce, lodgepole and ponderosa pines, subalpine firs, and bare aspen trees grew close to the road.
Like taking a ride through a Christmas tree farm, Pete used to say. It made her smile.
There were only two cabins up this way. She passed the one cabin and tried not to think about the person who lived there. Ryan McCabe. She’d broken his heart, but hers had been broken too.
After Ryan’s call, Charlie had made the decision to drive from her home in DC instead of flying because she’d needed time to prepare for what lay ahead. Not just the new reality Uncle Pete wasn’t going to be home, but the truth that she would have to face Ryan again.
Her snow tires gripped the road as she continued the steady uphill climb. Pete loved the fact that his place was the last cabin up the mountain. He said it made him feel like he was on top of the world.
Darkness up here was piercing. The headlights barely made a dent in it through the snowflakes swirling around. By the time she reached her uncle’s overgrown driveway, her fingers hurt from gripping the wheel so tight.
Charlie bit her lip to fight back tears when she remembered all the times she’d been down this drive in her lifetime.
She turned onto a drive covered in deep snow. It had been a while since anyone had driven down it. What was left of faint tracks were probably from Ryan checking on the place.
One final curve in the drive and then the two-story cabin came into view. Her headlights highlighted the place Pete had taken pride in building for his “bride,” as he called Aunt Ailene who had passed after only a few years of marriage.
Built from logs milled from his own backyard and river stone from the nearby Pine Haven River, it was a tribute to Pete’s craftsmanship.
Now, the place sat silent. Dark. Snow-laden conifers and dark silhouettes from the mountains beyond gave the place an eerie winter wonderland feel.
Charlie sat for the longest time unable to summon the strength to do what came next. Go inside that silent tribute to Pete and face the place without him.
Since hearing of her uncle’s death, the world had felt a little darker and colder.
She grabbed hold of the key and killed the engine before climbing out while tugging her wool coat tighter around her body. The bitter winter storm sent wind screaming around the countryside like a rabid animal.
Her warm boots crunched over ice-encrusted snow until she reached the porch.
Her uncle’s old rocker squeaked as it rocked in the wind. Charlie jumped and whipped toward it, her heart racing.
A shaky laugh escaped. Seeing ghosts, Pete would say.
Charlie found the house key tucked inside the light fixture near the front door. Pete kept it there although he rarely locked his doors.
She tried the knob and realized someone had secured the entrance. Charlie slipped the key into the lock. The door squealed open with more difficulty than she remembered.
The scent of stale ash from the last fire her uncle had lit assaulted her senses. Charlie flipped on the lights.
She froze just inside the door at the sight that unfolded in front of her.
The place had been ransacked. Drawers had been tossed onto the floor. Cushions removed from the sofas and chairs. Pete’s collection of books strewn across the living room like soldiers killed in battle.
Someone had been here other than Ryan.
Charlie’s heart stuttered. She immediately stepped back. Slamming into the wall, she bit back a scream and reached for her cell phone while her frightened gaze latched onto the fireplace above the mantle.
Four words had been carved into the wooden wall above the fireplace.
Leave the past buried.
She sucked in a breath. This was more than just someone vandalizing the place. It was a threat, and it was personal.
Directed at her.
The front door stood open as she’d left it.
Over her panicked heartbeat she heard something far more disturbing.
Footsteps crunching along the same path she’d traversed.
Someone else was here. With the door open, there was no time to hide.
Her feet felt glued in place even as she thought about fleeing.
With her heart in her throat, Charlie retrieved the handgun her uncle Pete had given her when she moved away. She aimed it at the figure stepping up on the porch.
“Whoa, there, Charlie it’s just me.”
She’d recognize that voice anywhere and it was the last person she wanted to see right now. Yet he was the one person who could help.
Another one of her past ghosts watched her with unreadable eyes.
Ryan McCabe. Tall and handsome as all get out stood at the edge of the porch. His Stetson was covered in snow. His deputy badge visible beneath the navy-blue, winter-weight patrol jacket.
Charlie put away her handgun, but her pulse didn’t return to normal at the sight of him. Just the opposite. She could have sworn Ryan would be able to hear it from where he stood.
“You scared me.” Her hand drifted to cover her chaotic heart.
“Sorry. I was driving by and saw the lights on.” At six-two, Ryan had towered over her five-foot-five frame for years. Dark brown hair cut short but messy from the wind. Stormy-gray eyes bored into hers, seeing more than she wished. The stubbly beard and mustache suited him.
She remembered the state of the house and the warning engraved on the wall and her gaze drifted past Ryan’s shoulder to the trees behind him. “Did you see anyone?”
His quizzical expression darkened while his brow furrowed in a familiar look. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Someone’s broken into the place. It’s been ransacked.”
“You’re kidding?” His shock was evident as his muscles tensed. “I keep an eye on the place. I stopped by yesterday and everything was locked up.”
She turned back to the disheveled living space. “Someone’s been here and they left a message.”
“Was anything missing?”
Charlie froze. She hadn’t thought about looking. She’d been too terrified. “I don’t know.”
“Wait here.” Ryan’s jaw tightened as he stepped past her with his hand on his holster.
All sorts of awful thoughts raced through her mind as she waited for him to return.
“Whoever did this sure made a mess of the place,” he said in a tight voice before stepping back outside. “We’ll dust for prints. It could be some local kids or. . .”
Or something far worse. Something that had been fifteen years in the making.