Chapter 1
ONE
Silence blanketed the normally bustling wilderness of Teragoose National Park, Newfoundland.
Odd. Conservation Officer Wyatt Hoyt adjusted his cowboy hat and steered his sorrel horse, Ember, onto the path toward Kesbush River.
Multiple accounts of illegal hunting had been reported to their Labrador resource detachment near Happy Valley-Goose Bay, and Wyatt’s boss had dispatched him to patrol the northern region of the park.
So far, the wilderness and mountainous area had remained eerily tranquil.
Keep your eyes to the skies and ears in nature.
His father Frank Hoyt’s mantra tumbled through Wyatt’s head. Right now, nature’s silence was telling Wyatt something was wrong in the park.
Terribly wrong.
Normally, the birds chirped, squirrels squawked and the occasional rabbit scurried across his path. However, on this midmorning June day, it seemed nature hid in the shadows. Even the normal hikers were nowhere to be seen.
Ember snorted and threw her snout in the air, halting on the narrow path.
Wyatt tensed and leaned forward to rub his horse’s neck. “What is it, girl?”
She stomped her right hoof, as if in response to his question.
And Wyatt trusted Ember’s animal instinct. He rested his hand on his sidearm and scanned the area, listening closely to nature for some clue why the forest had hushed.
But no answers came.
His radio crackled, disrupting the park’s stillness.
“Hoyt, any sign of the hunters in your area?” fellow Conservation Officer Cam Field asked.
Wyatt unclipped his radio. “Nothing. You?”
“Nope. Only activity I’ve seen here in the south end is the occasional hiker and rabbit.”
“I haven’t seen or heard anything. It’s like the park is refusing to talk today.” Wyatt loved the quietness of the wilderness and being by himself, but not when all God’s creations remained in the shadows. “I don’t like it. Something is wrong.”
“You’re paranoid. I’m guessing the hunters have given up the chase and obeyed our rules.”
“Doubtful. They’re just getting smarter.” Wyatt suspected the hunters probably only stalked their game in the dark on offseasons.
Once again, Ember snorted and shifted positions.
“Something is spooking my horse. I don’t like it.”
“Cowboy, she’s probably tired of you on her back.” Field chuckled. “I’m doing one more pass and then I need a coffee break.”
Of course you do. The man was always taking breaks. That and his flippant way of nicknaming him “cowboy” grated on Wyatt’s nerves. “I’m heading to the river. Talk later.”
“Copy that. Stay alert. I know how you get distracted in the forest.”
Wyatt bit his tongue as his frustration toward his fellow officer emerged. Cam Field liked to ridicule everyone in his path to make himself look good, and Wyatt was tired of his disrespectful ways. Unfortunately, Field was their supervisor’s favorite, and in his eyes, Cam could do no wrong.
Wyatt ignored the man’s comment and sat straighter in the saddle. “Okay, girl. Enough of that. Time to head to the river.” Wyatt clucked his tongue and pressed his knees into her sides.
Ember obeyed and trotted forward.
The pair traveled another five minutes before rounding the path’s bend, toward the river. The area’s peaceful atmosphere and popular fishing spot were well-known.
Kesbush River was also the favorite swimming hole of Wyatt’s five-year-old son. Wyatt smiled as he pictured Levi wading in the shallow water, skipping rocks. When his stone sunk without skittering across the river, Levi’s pout reminded Wyatt of his late wife, Lisa, whenever she didn’t get her way.
Wyatt puffed out a sigh at the same moment as Ember whinnied and reared her front legs. “Whoa, girl!” He clutched his saddle’s horn with a vise grip. Falling off his horse wasn’t how he wanted to start his day. “You’re okay.”
Ember plunked her front hooves back onto the ground, but remained at the edge of the river’s path. She clearly refused to go any farther.
Wyatt brought out his binoculars and searched for whatever could have alarmed his horse. He stopped when he spied an object in the water. “What is that?” He adjusted the scope, and the item came into perfect focus.
Wyatt gasped.
A woman lay face down in the river with two arrows protruding from her back.
No wonder the forest was quiet. Someone had attacked a hiker.
Wyatt tucked his binoculars away and unhooked his radio. “Officer Hoyt here. Spotted a woman floating in the Kesbush River approximately two kilometers east of the trailhead with two arrows in her back. Send police to my location.”
“Sending them now, Officer Hoyt,” Dispatch said.
“Did you just say arrows?” Field asked.
“Affirmative. Heading into the river to confirm her condition.” Wyatt dismounted and extracted his rifle from its holder.
“Approach with caution.” Field’s warning boomed through the radio.
Like I don’t know that. Wyatt resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his colleague’s instruction.
I know how to do my job and protect our resources.
Wyatt bit the inside of his mouth. Don’t let the man get to you.
Wyatt’s fear of failure, stemming from his brother Kyle’s death, flashed in his mind, but he suppressed the memory and lifted his rifle, peering through the scope.
Stay in the present. Before approaching, he quickly observed the riverbank and tree line, searching for the killer.
Nothing suspicious materialized.
He lowered his weapon and stuffed the rifle back in its saddle holder.
Removing his utility belt, he bolted toward the river and dropped it on a nearby fallen log before rushing into the water to where the woman’s body slapped against a protruding rock.
Wyatt turned her on her side and caught a glimpse of her face. He sucked in a breath.
Long strands of matted, dark hair covered her pale left cheek. Wyatt hauled her to the river’s edge and up onto the shore. He kneeled on the rocky beach and placed his fingers on her neck, then leaned close to check her breathing. No pulse or breath. Deceased.
Wyatt sat back on his heels and hung his head, sorrow crowding his emotions. He caught a glimpse of her pink jacket and plaid shirt in his peripheral vision. He stilled, a jolt of foreboding locking him in place. Wait—he remembered similar clothing on—
“Please, no.” Wyatt held his breath and pushed a strand of hair away from her neck, searching for what he prayed wasn’t there.
But a butterfly tattoo appeared.
The woman was who he feared. Denise Martin—his sister-in-law—and Levi’s babysitter.
Wyatt shot to his feet and searched the shoreline. Denise had mentioned taking Levi for an adventurous hike, but not in this park. So, why had she come here—and more importantly, where was his son?
His pulse skyrocketed as his shaky fingers picked up his radio and hit the button. “Deceased victim’s name is—” he gulped in a breath before continuing “—Denise Martin, my son’s babysitter.”
“What?” Field’s voice reverberated over the airway. “Where’s Levi?”
“No idea. Dispatch, also send the medical examiner here and ask the police to send their K-9 unit. There’s no way Denise would have left his side if she were alive. Something is wrong.” He gave them a description of Levi and what his son was wearing.
“On it,” Dispatch said. “I’ll update you on their ETA.”
“Thank you. I’m going to search for Levi.
” Wyatt hated to leave the body unattended, but had no choice.
His son’s life was at risk. He eyed Denise.
“Why did you bring him here? I told you not to come to this park.” His sudden spark of anger toward the woman faded as quickly as it developed.
“Lisa, I’m so sorry. I failed your sister.
” Lord, please help me not to fail my son, too.
Tears prickled the back of his eyes, but he willed them to stay at bay. Tears wouldn’t help his son. Wyatt hurried back to Ember. “Time to go, girl.” He mounted her and squeezed his legs into her flank. Moving the reins to the left, he led Ember back into the forest as a question rose.
Should he yell Levi’s name with a deadly archer in the woods? No. Even at the young age of five, Wyatt had taught his son to hide when in danger.
Wyatt couldn’t risk exposing Levi. He’d have to search in silence.
“Hoyt, emergency services ETA is approximately twenty minutes out,” Dispatch said. “K-9 unit is closer and on their way.”
Wyatt hit his radio button. “Copy.”
Ten minutes after a futile search, Wyatt pulled on Ember’s reins at the Kesbush and Goosebirch Trail intersection. An item hanging on a branch caught his eye.
His son’s ball cap.
A bark sounded behind him, and Wyatt pivoted.
A German shepherd emerged between the trees with its handler.
Wyatt froze, his breath catching like he’d been punched. Was he seeing correctly? He blinked rapidly to clear his vision, confirming her presence.
But there she was—Constable Taylor Grant. His ex-girlfriend. The woman who had shattered his heart and disappeared out of his life two years ago.
“What are you doing here?” Oops. The words came out harsher than Wyatt had intended. “I mean, I thought you were living in Nova Scotia.”
“I moved back two weeks ago. I heard the call over the radio and your son’s description. When they said ‘conservation officer,’ I guessed it was Levi. I raced to get here as quick as I could.” Taylor tucked a stray dirty-blond curl behind her ear.
Wyatt squashed the emotions resurfacing at her reappearance. His son’s life depended on him setting his feelings aside. “Thank you for coming.” He pointed to the hat. “That’s Levi’s and my sister-in-law is lying dead on the beach with two arrows in her back. I need to find my son.”
“I’m so sorry about Denise. I know you were close.” She tugged on the dog’s leash. “We’ll use the hat to get Shadow searching.”
“Okay, let’s—”
Shadow barked, yanking Taylor forward.
Ember whinnied.
Green camouflage flashed in between the trees seconds before an arrow lodged into the tree above Wyatt’s head.