Chapter 4
FOUR
The drive to Wesley’s house took a solid thirty minutes. There were only a few vehicles on Moonstone Bay — most everybody drove golf carts — but Galen owned one of them. As sheriff, he needed an official vehicle.
The road to Wesley’s ranch was a two-lane desolate highway.
Moonstone Bay didn’t have enough traffic for anything bigger.
Heck, it didn’t have enough traffic for a roundabout in the busy downtown.
Almost all the parking lots in the urban area were used for festivals and events for tourists.
There were spots for golf carts to be parked but they didn’t take up nearly as much room.
My leg jostled nervously as I stared out the window. It wasn’t like Wesley to go off without telling his men. Sure, he liked spending time in nature — he once told me the trees called to him — but he always told somebody where he was going.
“Baby, don’t get worked up until we know what’s happening,” Galen chided, his hand landing on my jiggling knee. “For all we know, he’s already back.”
“They would have called.”
“You know the cell service between his ranch and the city is crap. Even if they texted I might not get it until we’re under the coverage of his satellite.”
That was true. I’d been caught in the dead zone more than once. Still, I didn’t believe that. “He’s gone.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I feel it,” I snapped. Instantly, I felt bad and lifted my hands in supplication. “I’m sorry. I’m worried.”
“I know.” His voice was soft. He was worried but didn’t want to come out and say so. If he did, he’d be acknowledging Wesley was in real trouble.
It wasn’t that Galen wanted to lie to protect my delicate sensibilities. He had solid training in dealing with overwrought family members. More often than not, these things did resolve themselves fairly fast.
Not this time. I think we both knew that.
We made the rest of the trip in silence. Galen hadn’t even rolled to a stop in Wesley’s driveway before I hopped out of his truck and ran to the barn nearest the house.
Wesley spent a lot of time in the barn, where he had a woodworking shop — he liked to craft furniture — and when he was chewing on something that needed to be figured out. He did his thinking while building a chair or a swing.
Maybe he’d grown lightheaded or lost track of time. Maybe he was just behind the workbench.
The second I walked through the doors I knew he wasn’t in the barn. Wesley had a certain presence, and the barn was devoid of that presence today.
I felt rather than heard Galen walk into the barn behind me. “I’m sure they searched all the barns,” he said.
“I know.” I wasn’t angry at Galen — not really — but I bubbled with resentment. “I just thought maybe … .”
“That they’d overlooked him somehow,” he finished.
“I’m sure you think I’m an idiot.”
“No, Hadley, that’s the exact opposite of what I think.”
When he lowered his eyes to mine I found sympathy waiting for me. There was also determination. “We’re going to find him.”
“Where should we start?” I asked. This was Galen’s area of expertise. I had to let him lead.
“With his men.” He held out his hand for me to take.
He was here on official business and most sheriffs didn’t hold their girlfriend’s hand on the job.
I was still his priority. I put my hand in his and let him lead me out of the barn.
I looked at his workspace one more time, then forced my attention forward. Wesley wasn’t out here.
Larry Morton, one of Wesley’s longtime ranch hands, was in the driveway when we emerged from the barn. He gave me a sour look.
“Do you think we didn’t look in the barn?” he demanded.
I shrank back in the face of his annoyance. “Sorry.”
Galen didn’t let me finish. “No, you’re not.” He glared at Larry. “She’s worried about her grandfather.” What he didn’t say was “you will regret it if you mock her again.” But it was implied.
“Sorry.” Larry cast me an apologetic look. “It’s been a long day and it’s just started. We’ve been looking for hours. Nobody realized he was missing until about four hours ago.”
I did the math. “Why was everyone up at four in the morning?”
This time Larry reminded me of a guy desperately trying to maintain his patience when he deigned to focus on me.
“Honey, it’s a farm on a tropical island.
The only time the weather doesn’t want to suck the life out of you is at four in the morning.
We do the bulk of our work between four and eight o’clock. ”
I’d known this, of course. Wesley had mentioned going to bed at seven o’clock and getting up at three o’clock more times than I could count. “Right.” I felt like a dolt.
“Run me through this,” Galen instructed. “When was the last time anyone saw him?”
“Last night,” Larry replied. “We had a barbecue right out here.” He pointed to the pretty side patio surrounded by flowers. “We do that at least once a week. Wesley likes to reward the ranch hands.”
Galen bobbed his head. “Who was at the barbecue?”
“Everyone who works here.”
“Any outsiders?”
“Like who?” Larry’s forehead creased.
Now Galen was tugging on his limited patience. “There are a lot of men who work this ranch. Maybe there were wives, girlfriends, someone who wouldn’t normally be here.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Larry’s face. “I get what you’re saying, but those sorts of people only come to the weekend barbecues. During the week, it’s just the workers.”
“Okay.” Galen bobbed his head. “Run me through it.”
“There was nothing out of the ordinary. Wesley was manning the grill, steaks instead of the usual hot dogs and hamburgers. We’re having a really good season and he wanted everybody to know we were getting bonuses.”
Larry momentarily brightened. “We ate. Old Hank Lorry played his banjo.”
I cringed without realizing. “Not in a Deliverance way?”
It was a serious situation but Galen snorted. Larry didn’t find me funny — or perhaps he didn’t understand the joke. “No, ma’am,” he said. “It wasn’t in a Deliverance sort of way.”
I pressed my lips together. Larry really thought I was an idiot.
“It was a normal barbecue other than Wesley making the announcement about the bonuses,” he continued.
“We helped clean up. Then … I’m trying to remember.
” He turned pensive. “I’ve asked but nobody remembers Wesley going into the house.
He said he was going to check on Loretta and that’s the last anybody saw of him. ”
“Who is Loretta?” I asked.
“A heifer, ma’am.” Larry was deadly serious. “She gave birth two days ago and the calf seemed as if it might be sickly, but it rebounded. We’ve all been checking on it regularly.”
I found his use of “ma’am” irritating. Older women were addressed as ma’am. I was young and in my prime.
“Take us to Loretta,” Galen instructed, his hold on my hand firm. “We’ll start there.”
Larry nodded before turning on his heel and taking us in the direction of another barn farther behind the house. Wesley had a few crop fields, but his main job was to raise beef for the entire island. There were cows in the pastures as far as I could see.
“It’s okay,” Galen repeated to me when I didn’t say anything during the walk. “We’ll find him.”
I believed that. Heck, we wouldn’t rest until we did find him.
The problem was that I was terrified of what state we might find him in.
What if he was already gone? My heart ached at the thought.
I hadn’t known him growing up and had met him a little more than a year ago.
How was I supposed to live with losing him so fast?
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Galen prodded in a low voice when I didn’t respond.
“I don’t like Larry calling me ma’am,” I replied. That wasn’t the whole truth — there was a lot going on in my busy brain — but it wasn’t a lie.
He practically choked. “Seriously?” he asked.
I nodded. “Ma’ams are old.” I was solemn.
“Well, I guess I know what I’m calling you when we get into our next argument.”
He was going for levity. I appreciated the effort but I had no smile to give. “I wouldn’t if you want to make up in a timely fashion.”
He squeezed my hand.
He released it when we got to the barn and split up to look around.
I didn’t know what we were looking for but I could imagine a few scenarios.
One involved Wesley having a heart attack — or some other medical emergency — away from his men.
If he fell in the wrong place, behind a hay bale stack or in a wooded area, he might not be found right away.
The other involved an enemy walking into the barn, whacking him over the head and removing him from the property.
I didn’t want to think on that one too long.
As far as I knew, Wesley didn’t have many enemies, but what if one of them took my grandfather to use as leverage against me?
“This is Loretta,” Larry said, drawing me back to the conversation and pointing to a mother cow and her calf.
“What’s the baby’s name?” I asked as I dropped to my knees to pet the adorable little face.
Larry shrugged. “We don’t name them all. We name the heifers who will be breeding for us and a few of the studs. The others, well, I guess you can call him Lunch if you want.”
I glared at him. “Thanks for putting that idea into my head.”
He grew frustrated in an instant. “What do you want me to say? I don’t care about the calf. I care about Wesley. He’s been my best friend for ten freaking years. We were friends for another twenty before that. I’m worried about him, not the stupid calf!”
I stood in shock and watched Larry’s hands begin to shake as he covered his face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Don’t apologize to him,” Galen ordered. “It’s not your fault that Wesley is gone.”
“It’s not his fault either,” I pointed out. “He’s upset. I don’t blame him.”
“We’re all upset.” Galen rubbed my back before turning back to Larry. “Where would he have gone from here?”
“I don’t know.” Larry’s cheeks were tear streaked. “We’ve been all over the ranch. We’ve been out on the four-wheelers. They’re all accounted for. So are the horses.”
“He went on foot,” I said.
Larry nodded. “I’ve had the hands crawling through the underbrush in case he fell. We really have been everywhere.”
“Maybe he’s not here,” Galen suggested.
Larry started shaking his head, then frowned as Galen’s words sank in. “What are you suggesting?” he asked.
“Wesley is important,” Galen replied evenly. “Someone may have taken him for ransom. Or to hold as a hostage to get leverage over someone.”
“Who?” Larry looked baffled. Then his gaze landed on me and I cringed. “Oh,” he said in understanding.
My shoulders slumped.
“Hadley, don’t get worked up,” Galen admonished, annoyance shining through. “You can’t blame yourself for things we have no proof of.”
I blinked. What he didn’t say — likely couldn’t say — was that if Wesley had been taken odds were good that he’d been taken to send us a message.
I didn’t respond, mostly because I was afraid I would start crying. Then something occurred to me. “May,” I blurted, referring to my ghostly grandmother.
“May you what?” Larry prodded.
“No.” I shook my head. “May. As in May Potter. Has anybody seen her?”
Larry shifted from one foot to the other. “Um, ma’am … .”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed.
“Ma’am,” he said again, as if he hadn’t heard me. “I understand that your grandfather loved your grandmother very much. We all humor him with the May stuff, but we don’t pretend we believe it’s true.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you calling my grandfather a liar?”
“Hadley.” That one word from Galen was laced with warning. “Not everyone on the island is paranormal. Even those who are — like a lot of the shifters — can’t see ghosts. You cannot blame them for being dubious.”
I waved off Galen’s admonishment. I understood what he was saying on a very basic level, but I didn’t have time for it. “May will know where he is.” I started toward the house, not waiting for Larry or Galen.
I let myself in, looking left and right for a hint of my ghostly grandmother, and then headed toward the living room.
I’d seen Wesley and May watching television together.
They snuggled on the couch, as if she were still alive.
They played board games. There was no sign of my grandmother in the living room.
I was in Wesley’s office when Galen caught up with me. “You didn’t handle that great,” he complained. “Now Larry thinks you’re a crackpot too.”
“I don’t really care what Larry thinks,” I fired back. “He’s a tool.”
“He loves Wesley.”
“He also keeps calling me ‘ma’am’ even though he knows I hate it.”
“He’s being polite.”
I swiveled to face him. “No offense, but how is it being polite if every woman he points that word at hates it?”
Galen seemed to struggle for an answer.
“Ha!” I poked his chest and went back to looking. May wasn’t in here either. That left Wesley’s bedroom and the kitchen. I checked both, calling out May’s name at the top of my lungs. The house was empty.
“What are you thinking?” Galen asked when I stopped moving around the house.
“May isn’t here.”
“Is she with Wesley?”
Maybe it was wishful thinking but I really did believe that. “I think so. What’s our next step?”
“We might need some magical help.”
“You’re calling Booker.”
“And Aurora. She’s a masterful tracker. With your magic and their abilities we have a good chance of finding him.”
I didn’t know if I believed that but nodded all the same. There weren’t many options we could embrace. I trusted Aurora and Booker with my life. If they could help, they would.
“Call them,” I said. “I’m going to have to cast a locator spell. I want to make it strong. There’s an herb garden near the patio. I’m going to go out there and collect some ingredients.”
“Watch your back. Just in case.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
That made him smile. “Ah, if only.”