Chapter 1
Sawyer
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Coming to you midday with breaking news, Castlebrook! A little boy has gone missing from the Bravermans’ silly retreat. If you see him, please call the police!
Holden Swede
Little boy is nine years old, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt. Search and rescue will be set up at the Bravermans’ ranch. Volunteer searchers are requested.
Sue Cruthkins
Hey! That’s my job!
Holden Swede
Not now, Sue
“I’m going to stay with the truck in case the kid gets found. You join the search.” As soon as my back is turned on my lazy partner, I roll my eyes. What a shock that he doesn’t want to put in the extra work.
“Sure thing, Mark,” I reply, strapping a first aid kit over my shoulder.
When we got the call at the station that a kid had gone missing on one of the horseback riding retreats that the Bravermans host, we had anticipated the search would be called off before we even got out to the ranch.
Unfortunately, thirty minutes later, the horse had returned without the kid.
That’s never a good sign.
I throw my hair into a low bun and tighten my cap over my head, making sure the wind won’t blow it off.
The first aid kit we have specifically for missing tourists is loaded with snacks and water already, along with a blanket.
Everything needed for someone who might have been on the mountain, out in the elements, for too long.
I should know, I packed it.
“Go check in with Holden. He’ll partner you up.” The senior paramedic leans back in his seat, placing his hat over his eyes, effectively dismissing me. Asshole.
The sun beats down, but the wind is brutal, throwing dust up in my face.
The weather is not ideal for a search and rescue.
Over at the edge of the driveway, a canopy is set up with the Castlebrook police department logo on it.
I’m guessing that’s where I’ll find Holden, our sheriff.
I wave to Kyle and Delia as I pass them, both of whom are dressed for a long hike and hopefully prepared with lots of water.
Lines of vehicles are parked on the grass outside of the barn, the community coming together quickly to help find this missing kid. Montana is rough terrain to get lost in, and we’ve had some bear problems recently, so the sooner we find this kid, the better.
“Sawyer!” Holden steps out from behind the folding table that’s loaded down with maps and red pens. “Y’all got here fast.”
“Yeah, well, we had an advantage,” I twirl my finger in the air, mimicking the sirens. “Still no luck?”
“No,” he sighs, roughly swiping at his face. “But it’s still early.”
“We’ll find him,” I promise. Holden has been best friends with my dad for a long time, long enough that he feels more like an uncle to me than a family friend. I mean, when you grow up in a town as small as Castlebrook, Montana, everyone ends up being your family friend. “Where do you need me?”
“Mark’s not helping?”
“Nah, he’s sticking around in case y’all find the kid.” The only response I get is a shake of his head and a scoff. Yeah. We all know he’s just gonna nap.
“Alright, while I don’t wanna send you off on your own.
” I don’t know if it’s a full moon or if the universe is just out to get me, but as soon as the words are out of Mark’s mouth, Jake Williams saunters out of his truck, heading right towards the tent.
“Jake! Perfect. You and Sawyer can work together.”
“Hi! Jake Williams.” Like a perky little dog, he smiles and extends his hand in greeting.
Solely to be polite and not cause a scene, I shake his hand. “I know. We went to high school together. And middle school. And elementary.”
“Did we?” His head quirks to the side, and again, it reminds me of how puppy-like he is. Cute, hyperactive, curious, attention span of a goldfish.
“Yeah.” This also isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. “Where do you need us, Holden?” I ask, turning away from the tall man beside me.
“I’m gonna have you guys search the peak,” he points to the mountain that separates Braverman's land from William's land. “And then work your way down the back end of the mountain. Check off the cliffs, but don’t go off the trail. We’re anticipating he’ll stick to a path.”
“There are two paths along the mountain, though,” Jake says, taking on a more serious persona. “Which one do you want us on?”
“You guys good with Devil’s Peak? We’ll leave the easier path for some of the other volunteers.”
“Works for me?” It’s more of a question for me, as he looks down at me in confirmation.
“Sure,” I go hiking regularly on my days off. While I haven’t hiked Devil’s Peak since it’s on private property, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.
“Ok, thanks, guys.” Holden scribbles something on his map and then passes Jake a walkie-talkie. “Kid’s name is Frankie Muntz. He’s nine years old, with red hair. Wearing jeans and a red T-shirt. You see him, you radio it in.”
“You got it,” Jake salutes. “I’m gonna grab my bag, then we can head out?”
“Sure.” I watch as he jogs back to his truck, the logo for his family ranch, Castle Ridge, painted on the side. The muscles in his back ripple as he digs through his truck, and I have to force my eyes away. If anyone were to catch me looking at him for too long, I would never hear the end of it.
“Be careful, Sawyer,” Holden tells me. “No heroics.”
“No heroics,” I promise. “We’ll be careful.”
“Huh.” Folding his arms over his chest, he looks from me to Jake. “Sure.”
“Trust me. We’ll stick to the path and be back in no time.”