Chapter 3
Wyatt’s office wasn’t much—just a desk, two chairs, and a topographical map of the forest pinned to the wall.
Thunder settled on his bed in the corner, his chin on his paws as he watched everything the way he always did.
Thunder had been his oldest sister Sarah’s dog. That was still how Wyatt thought of him sometimes, even after three years—as his sister’s dog. He’d adopted Thunder after her death, and the canine had turned out to have the instincts of a search and rescue animal.
Sarah herself had always had good instincts—except when it came to men.
His throat constricted at the thought, but he quickly pushed it away. This wasn’t the time or place to dwell on that.
He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”
The woman sat down, bag still on her shoulder. “I’m Kori. Kori Hutchins.”
“I’m Ranger King. You can call me Wyatt.”
Now that she was close, he took in her details. High cheekbones. A small Roman nose. Unusual gray-green eyes. She was uniquely beautiful. Composed. The way she spoke conveyed intelligence and education.
She was the kind of woman who didn’t belong here—and somehow that made it hard not to look at her twice.
He pulled out a notepad. “Full name of your sister.”
“Mackenzie Elaine Hutchins. She’s twenty-six. Five foot four. A hundred twenty pounds. Brown hair. Brown eyes.”
He wrote down the details. As he did, the woman pulled up a picture of Mackenzie on her phone and showed him.
Something moved at the edge of his memory. He’d seen Mackenzie around town before, maybe at the grocery store or at one of the street festivals. In a small town like Blue Ridge Hollow, everyone generally knew everyone—unless you didn’t want to be known.
He glanced at Kori. “You said her neighbor specifically mentioned Lost Hollow Trail?”
“Yes. Apparently the hike was on my sister’s bucket list.”
He tapped his pen against the notepad as he thought through the protocol. “I see.”
“Listen, she’s the only family I have left.” Kori locked gazes with him. “Our parents are gone. It’s just the two of us. Me and Mackenzie. I can’t lose her.”
Wyatt set his pen down.
He knew something about loss. About the weight of it. About the way it changed the air in a room. And he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
“We’ll find her,” he said. “But we do it right. First step—I want to see where she lives. See if there’s anything there that might give us a clue as to if she changed her plans or anything of that sort.”
Kori nodded and stood, gratitude filling her gaze. “That makes sense.”
As she did, Thunder lifted his head and rose from the corner.
She drew in a sharp breath and stepped back, her hand going over her heart.
Wyatt glanced at her. “Thunder goes where I go. Is that going to be a problem?”
She looked down at the dog, an unreadable emotion moving across her face.
Then she swallowed hard before saying, “I’d face Bigfoot himself if it meant finding my sister.”
Mackenzie’s apartment building was a two-story brick walk-up on the quieter end of Main Street.
It had black window boxes on the outside, though nothing was growing in them this time of year.
A lopsided wreath, which someone had made by hand out of pine branches and dried berries, hung on the front door.
Kori sat in her car a moment after she parked and stared at the place.
She hadn’t been here before. She hadn’t even known her sister’s new address until Flo Middleton, Mackenzie’s neighbor, had called.
For two years, her sister had lived on this street, in this building, and Kori hadn’t known where to find her. She hadn’t tried to find her. She’d told herself she didn’t care.
Her sister had betrayed her. Even after Kori had given up her own dreams to help support Mackenzie following the death of their parents, she’d gotten no loyalty in return. Kori had turned down a job offer across the country because she thought her sister needed her to be close. Big mistake.
Kori had vowed to never come back to this town where she’d been blindsided by betrayal. Of course, none of those things seemed important now that her sister was missing.
Regret clawed up her throat. If something happened to Mackenzie . . . their estrangement would be the last thing between them.
She climbed out of her Lexus before she could think about all that any longer.
Wyatt was already on the sidewalk waiting for her, his dog at his side.
She quickly observed the ranger as she approached.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, with short brown hair and a light stubble along his square jaw. He had the build of someone whose fitness came from actual work rather than a gym—broad through the shoulders and steady in the way he moved.
The name Wyatt fit him. He wasn’t someone who lived in a conference room or who treasured a city skyline. That name belonged to a man who knew which way was north without checking his phone.
There was something very intriguing about him. He was different from the men she worked with back in DC, men who were all about making connections and getting ahead. Men who thought their net worth defined their self-worth.
She pushed the thought aside as she joined him. “It’s the one over there. Her neighbor is the one who called me. She should have a key.”
“Then let’s go.”
Flo Middleton lived on the first floor, and her door opened before they reached it, almost as if she’d been listening for footsteps. The octogenarian was small with white hair, and she wore a pale pink cardigan.
Her eyes went immediately to Thunder, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my. Aren’t you something? Such a beautiful creature.”
The dog was beautiful with its chocolate and black fur and amber-colored eyes.
If only Kori liked dogs . . .
But it wasn’t that she didn’t like them.
They terrified her.
Thunder sat and stared at Flo with an expression that suggested he could be trusted—and treats were always welcome.
Flo looked up at Wyatt, then at Kori, and her expression softened. “You must be Kori. I’d know you anywhere—Mackenzie talked about you.”
Kori absorbed that information, trying not to react. She’d figured her sister would have written her off. Pretended like she didn’t exist. Knowing that her sister had talked about her to her neighbor made her heart twist with pain.
“That’s right. I’m Kori, and this is Ranger Wyatt King. Thank you for calling me.”
“Of course. I knew something was wrong when Mackenzie didn’t check in. She always told me I should call you if anything happened.”
Wyatt stepped closer. “When did you last see her?”
“Five days ago. Saturday morning.” Flo’s voice was shaky but careful. “She brought me a muffin from that bakery on Church Street before she left.”
“Did anything seem off about her?”
“No, she was her usual cheerful self.”
Kori paused.
Cheerful wasn’t a word she’d ever associated with Mackenzie.
Warm, maybe. Attentive in a quiet way. She was the kind of person who noticed things other people missed and asked questions no one else thought to ask. She could be funny too—but it was a dry, understated humor that slipped out when you weren’t expecting it.
But openly cheerful? Bright in that outward, uncomplicated way?
That wasn’t the sister Kori knew.
Had Mackenzie changed?
“She always does that,” Flo continued. “Brings me something when she’s heading out. Says she likes knowing someone will notice if she doesn’t come back.”
Kori’s breath hitched at Flo’s words, but she forced herself to remain grounded.
Kori had once been the person Mackenzie had checked in with. The one Mackenzie had told about her bad days, about new restaurants she’d tried, and about her new favorite TV show.
And she still would have if things hadn’t gone south between them.
Kori swallowed hard before asking, “Do you have a key to her apartment?”
Flo produced it from her cardigan pocket, and Kori took it from her, murmuring a quick thanks. Then Flo dismissed herself, claiming she needed to check on a pie she was baking.
Kori’s hands trembled as she unlocked the door, though she tried to hide her nerves. Finally, she got it open and stepped inside.
She scanned the space.
Mackenzie’s apartment held the comfortable disorder of someone whose mind moved faster than her hands.
A stack of books sat on the coffee table—some on cybersecurity, others on things Kori didn’t recognize—with receipts and folded scraps of paper marking her place.
A mug rested on the kitchen counter, half-finished and long gone cold.
The throw blanket on the couch was bunched at one end, as if she’d been sitting there recently and simply gotten up when something caught her attention.
As Kori observed the space, Wyatt paced the room. He took in the details the way she imagined he took in the forest—methodically and without rushing.
He paused in the middle of the room and asked, “What does your sister do for work?”
“She’s a network analyst for a small security company.” Kori moved toward the desk in the corner. “She was offered the job remotely, and because of that she could live anywhere she wanted. She picked Blue Ridge Hollow.”
Wyatt grunted in response.
Kori sat at her sister’s desk, wondering if something here might hold some answers. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. A map? Some notes Mackenzie had scribbled about the hike?
A laptop sat closed in front of her, a sticker plastered across the top reading “UserError.” That sounded like her sister’s humor.
While Kori had always been driven, focused, and responsible, Mackenzie had been intuitive, adventure-seeking, and free-spirited.
Kori opened the laptop.
It was password protected, of course.
Kori tried their mother’s birthday first. January nineteenth.
Wrong.
Then she tried their father’s birthday. March third.
Also wrong.
She leaned back.
She was running out of easy, logical ideas—dates she felt confident about. Which was its own uncomfortable realization.