Chapter 3
3
“I have a theory. Hear me out before you make any judgments, okay?” The last—and only—time Archer had tucked his tail between his legs and run, he’d barely been old enough to have hair on his chest. Call him stubborn, but he had no intention of hiding from any threat, real or imagined. Not again.
Heads nodded, albeit some did so begrudgingly.
“What if there’s no threat of a break-in? What if someone at the funeral didn’t want me to be able to follow them?” The question was rhetorical. Everyone seemed to pick up on the fact.
Travis leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Was there someone in attendance that posed a threat to you?”
“I thought I saw a ghost from the past.” Archer’s tone must have given him away because Chloe immediately picked up on the implication.
His sister looked him straight in the eyes and studied him for a moment. “There’s only one person I’ve ever heard you describe as a ghost. Why would she come back?”
“What makes you think I’m talking about her?” It was an unconvincing attempt at deflection based on the looks he received from his siblings—looks that called BS when they heard it.
“Where do I begin?” Chloe asked, making him wish he’d filtered the question instead of spitting it out. “She is the only person who ever truly ghosted you. You haven’t been serious about anyone that I know of since her.”
He forced a smile. “But who’s keeping count?” The second attempt at deflection fell just as flat as the first. Archer issued a sharp sigh. “I’ve dated.”
Travis’s gaze shuffled back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. “I’m lost. Can one of you catch me up to date?”
Archer had no idea why it was proving difficult to say the words out loud. Did it make her presence more real? Or was he losing it? Had he seen someone who wasn’t there? Either way, the cat was out of the bag now. He might as well own up to what he believed he’d seen. “I could have sworn Annalee Copeland was at the remembrance.”
Travis’s gaze fixed the second he heard the name, like when someone was trying to recall something but couldn’t quite reach it. “Why does she sound familiar?”
“She was two years behind you and Kade in school. Transferred halfway through your senior year. She was in my and Owen’s grade.” When that explanation didn’t resonate with the sheriff, Archer continued, “Her mother’s name was Becca, and she worked at—”
“Travis snapped his fingers. “Now I remember who you’re talking about.” He blinked a couple of times. “Her mother worked at Inkspired Tattoos.”
“That’s correct. Annalee and her mother lived here for a couple of years, way back when.” It had taken half that time for Archer to convince Annalee to go on a date. From the first one, though, they’d been inseparable. Beaumont had hated it. Dating her to frustrate his father would have been motivation enough for Archer, but that hadn’t been why he’d asked Annalee out. It was simple. She’d caught his attention, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. She’d been hard to get to know. Some had snubbed her, calling her rough around the edges because she hadn’t worn the right clothes—whatever that meant—or curled her hair like a lot of her peers had done. Annalee’s long, straight, burnt red locks had complimented alabaster skin and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. She’d been beautiful by anyone’s standard. Her looks had created a stir at Saddle Junction High School.
Everywhere she’d walked, heads had turned. The girls couldn’t stand her, and the boys couldn’t keep their tongues from wagging when she walked by, which was most likely the reason the young ladies couldn’t stand the ground she walked on.
Annalee was five feet seven inches of legs. She’d been lean back then, too skinny if you asked him, and he suspected there had been times when she’d had to go without meals. There had been lunches where she’d had no more than a chunk of hard bread to eat. It had happened enough that he’d started dropping off groceries on her doorstep early in the morning before Annalee or her mother had woken up. She’d asked him about it, but he’d never owned up, figuring her pride would demand that he stop. He’d just shrugged and then took her hand in his. He’d told her he didn’t know who was responsible, but there was no shame in taking the food.
Her long red hair wasn’t the color of fire but more like autumn. Those too-serious blue eyes had seen more than anyone should have based on the couple of foster home stories she’d opened up about when he’d asked about the scars on her arm and leg.
“I remember,” Travis said, interrupting Archer’s thoughts. “Folks couldn’t stop talking about the city folk who’d moved to town. If memory serves, the folks of Saddle Junction weren’t exactly kind to the family.”
“That’s correct.” Once Archer and Annalee had started dating, the others had backed off. Until then, the teasing and backbiting had been relentless. Teenagers could be assholes. Archer would rather face a charging bull than be locked up for a week with a group of popular teens. At least the bull made sense.
Annalee hadn’t given anyone the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt her feelings. The walls she’d erected had been near-impossible to penetrate—except for the couple of times she’d opened up to him. She’d looked at him like Chloe looked at Travis, as though he was the only person on this earth.
She’d been his first everything. First love. First kiss. First…
Then, one day, out of nowhere, she’d told him the only reason she’d dated him was to get everyone off her back. The chill in her voice would freeze the month of July even now. The next day, the contents of the trailer she’d lived in with her mom had been packed up, and the two of them were gone. He’d tried to call only to learn her phone had been shut off. It had been one of those burner phones you bought at a gas station, so he should have realized something was up. At seventeen, though, he hadn’t questioned why she would have a line that was so easy to trash.
Chloe snapped her fingers in front of his nose. “Hello? Are you listening?”
He blinked. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Chloe was just as much of a firecracker today as she’d always been. At least she didn’t have to work at the bar anymore. She’d taken her place alongside Kade at the family horse ranch they’d inherited. They were transitioning part of the operation to rescues, which was the only reason any of them had decided to stay on. Well, everyone except Beau. He wanted to keep their father’s vision for the business, and that was yet another reason Archer was never sure if he wanted to shake the man’s hand or throw a punch. Since he’d stopped getting into fights at the same time he’d grown chest hair.
His sister’s intentions were golden. She was upset because she loved him and wanted to talk sense into him. He couldn’t fault her for caring.
“Well, what did you say?” he asked, bringing his attention back to the conversation.
Chloe clucked her tongue as the others continued quiet conversations, the tension was palpable. “I asked if you’d consider staying in the main house tonight. Ghost or not, it isn’t safe for you to stay here alone. This place is on the edge of the property, too near the road.”
“I’m good here,” he said, confident Annalee wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. She had no reason to come back to town that he could think of. But he couldn’t guess what might run through that beautiful, sharp mind of hers. If it was her, she probably thought he’d recognized her and then panicked. Along those lines of thinking, she might very well have taken his keys so he couldn’t follow her. It made sense when he thought about it in those terms. The others might not agree, but he knew Annalee better than they did. She would do it to save face. In fact, his keys could have been tossed somewhere in the parking lot. There’d be no need to keep them.
Years had passed since the last time they had talked, but he would give his left arm to have one more conversation.
Closure would have been nice. The way she’d gone had left him scratching his head as to the real reason, and she occupied his thoughts while he was working horse ranches more than he cared to admit. He’d seen panic in her blue eyes and should have set aside his injured pride and asked her to tell him what was going on that day.
Did he have a chance for closure now, or was she long gone?
And what, if anything, did the timing of her showing up have to do with his brothers’ disappearances?
Annalee woke with a start. It took a minute to get her bearings in the pitch black. She rubbed her eyes. The inside of her lids felt like sandpaper, gritty and harsh.
A noise outside the car caught her attention, sending her pulse racing. Was someone or something out there? Wild boars were known killers in this area of Texas. At least she was in the safety of her automobile. Unless the sound came from a human—in which case, she was a sitting duck.
Panic squeezed the air from her lungs. Breathing hurt. She’d been on the run four straight days now, but it felt like she’d been running for most of her life on some level. And, boy, was she exhausted from it.
The next noise had her reaching for the start engine button.
Could she stretch her arm enough for her finger to reach? Move without drawing attention in case someone was out there watching? Waiting? Could she get away before they came close enough to get off a clean shot? A bullet would stop her from turning in the evidence against whoever her mother had gotten involved with.
With her head against the headrest, slinked down in the seat, she couldn’t extend her fingers far enough to hit the button. Dammit. She listened for any sounds that indicated someone was closing in on the vehicle. An image of camouflage-wearing dudes with AR-15s and night vision goggles inching toward her stamped her thoughts. But was it real?
Given her mother’s dating record, any scenario was likely. But one person with a baseball bat or handgun could do a helluva lot of damage, too.
Releasing a slow breath, she needed to make a decision. Sit up and go for it and risk giving herself away if she hadn’t been seen yet. Or, keep slowly sliding down the seat until she could reach the button. Lying low seemed like the way to go. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to get off a shot if her head stayed out of view.
Once the car was on, she could put the gearshift into drive and hit the gas. The vehicle might beep at her incessantly because she didn’t have on a seatbelt, but that could be handled once she was certain she was safe.
Her cell lit up a moment before she slinked low enough to reach the magic button. An unknown caller? Was it him? The gun owner? Was he close and trying to pinpoint her exact location here in the woods in order to retrieve the evidence?
Sticking around to find out could prove deadly. She had to act now.
Biting back a curse, she tapped the button, put the gearshift in drive, and stomped the pedal. Headlights automatically came on, which helped her see but also gave her away. At least she had a metal barrier between her and whoever might be out there stalking her.
Popping up to see if the coast was clear, she realized a half second too late that the sedan’s front end was about to meet a four-foot-thick tree trunk.
Annalee jolted forward, her body slamming into the horn a second or two after the loud crunch sounded. A burst of adrenaline kicked in, causing her hands to shake as she reached for the handle and then opened the door.
Did she have time to grab the evidence bag?
Glancing around, she didn’t see anyone coming out of the woods behind her, but she’d given her location away. It would only be a matter of time if the stalker was out there. With no time to waste, she reached in for the backpack, grabbed it, and then bolted through the woods. Waiting around, her mother had taught her, was the best way to get caught. There were times to cut your losses and run. This was one of those times.
Annalee pushed her legs until her thighs burned, and she was far enough away from the vehicle to be reasonably certain no one had followed her zigzag pattern through the dense trees.
Gasping for air, she stopped long enough to catch her breath. Bent over, she pinched her side where it ached. It occurred to her that the rest of her supplies were back in the sedan. How long could she last without food or water? Or a coat in this wind?
Not long.
Could she circle back? It was possible she’d drawn the man away from the vehicle. Or would he wait for her to return?
She wasn’t familiar with this area of Saddle Junction. Then again, she hadn’t lived in one place long enough to memorize the nuances of any location. These woods definitely qualified as nuanced. Only a local would know how to navigate through the scrub brush, dense mesquite, and oak trees.
Lucky for her, she had a cell phone to help navigate her way back to the vehicle or, at the very least, the farm road where she could possibly hitch a ride in the back of a pickup truck. Folks still did that, right? Pick up hitchhikers?
Plopping down, she landed hard on a jagged rock, then cursed her bad luck. Annalee almost laughed out loud. Luck was made. It often came dressed in overalls and looked a lot like hard work. She’d read that somewhere on the internet. It had stuck.
The lesson being she was in control of her own destiny, not a random, chaotic universe. Annalee had her own back.
At thirty-two years old, she was getting tired of being a one-person army.
Letting her guard down now might prove a fatal mistake for her mother, so Annalee wouldn’t. Lately, however, her thoughts had drifted back to being seventeen again and in the one place she’d considered coming back to time and time again.
Of course, she’d returned after being texted a picture, but she could have studied the image long enough to figure out if it was AI-generated. There were always telltale signs, like fingers on one hand twisting in the wrong direction. A strange-looking watch. Or slightly distorted features.
Had she come back to test if the image was fake, or was there more to it? Something even more personal?
A branch snapped to her left. Annalee bit back a curse.
Was this it?
Had she been found?