Chapter 6
The trail wound upward through clusters of lodgepole pine, the morning sun filtering through the branches in golden shafts that pierced the cool shadows.
Cole kept Phantom at a steady pace, letting the gelding choose his way over the rocky patches while the group of guests followed behind on their rented mounts.
He should be paying attention to Mrs. Morrison from Quebec, who was gripping her saddle horn like it was a life preserver despite being on the gentlest mare in the stable.
Or at least he should be watching the teenage boy near the back who kept trying to make his horse trot even though he’d specifically told him to keep it at a walk. He should be doing his job.
Instead, all he could think about was that bracelet.
The teenager’s father called out from the middle of the line, “How much further to the overlook?”
He responded automatically, his voice conveying the practiced cheerfulness he had learned to summon even when his mind was elsewhere. “About twenty minutes. We’ll stop there for lunch and to rest the horses.”
The bracelet, made of silver and turquoise and wrapped in dark cloth, was hidden behind a loose board in his office.
Vivian’s bracelet.
He’d lain awake most of the night, turning it over in his mind, trying to understand it, figure out how it got there, who put it there, and why.
One possibility kept coming up, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it.
What if Vivian had planted it herself? Before she left, before she disappeared, maybe even on the day she vanished.
It would be just like her to do something so vindictive and calculated.
She would’ve known people would be looking for her.
And something like that would make him look guilty.
God knew she’d been bitter enough by the end.
Their last fight had been brutal, full of accusations, threats, and things that couldn’t be unsaid.
She’d screamed at him that she was leaving, that she was taking Beckett, and that she’d make sure he never saw his son again.
And when he told her that was never going to happen, that he’d fight for custody, and that he wouldn’t let her take Beck away from the only stable home he’d ever known—well, that’s when things had gotten really ugly.
“You’ll regret this, Cole. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
The words had haunted him for months after she vanished. What did she mean? What was she capable of?
For months, he wondered if she had intended self-harm. But now? Now that he understood how deeply she and her ex had been involved, the words took on a new, equally sinister meaning. Was she truly capable of planting evidence to frame him for her disappearance?
Phantom stumbled slightly on a loose rock and automatically adjusted his weight, refocusing on the trail. The fog was slowly lifting from the damp ground in the warming air, and somewhere above, a hawk circled lazily. As he watched it, he let his mind drift again.
But if Vivian had planted it, wouldn’t he or someone else have found it by now?
He’d been in that office hundreds of times over the past few months, and so had Jake.
Both of them spent hours there looking through files, doing paperwork, and checking on supplies.
Jewel had said the board had been loose, and she’d found the bracelet easily enough.
If it had been there all along, wouldn’t at least one of them have noticed?
Of course, they hadn’t been looking.
Or it hadn’t been there this whole time.
The certainty of that thought started to settle in his gut like a stone. Someone had planted it there recently. In the past few days, maybe even yesterday. Someone who wanted it to be discovered, who aimed to implicate him in Vivian’s disappearance.
But who? And why now, after all this time?
Conrad was in the office yesterday morning for two hours and saw nothing. This meant either Conrad was lying, which was unlikely, or the bracelet had been planted sometime after Conrad left.
Maybe while they were all at the house having dinner, someone could’ve slipped into the barn, hidden the bracelet, and left without anyone noticing. But that raised another question. How would anyone know Jewel, and not he, would find it?
Unless they didn’t care. They’d planned for it to be found eventually by anyone. They could’ve been watching, waiting until the house was full, waiting for the right moment to make sure it was discovered.
His mind reminisced about the car that followed Jewel and Sylvie yesterday.
The sedan that tracked her every move, nearly turning onto the private road before pulling away at the last second.
Could it be connected, or was he just seeing patterns where none existed, trying to build a narrative that made him seem less guilty?
“Cole? My horse won’t stop eating the bushes.”
He glanced back to see Mrs. Morrison’s mare with her head buried in a serviceberry shrub, completely ignoring her rider’s halfhearted tugs on the reins. “Just give her a firm pull and use your heels. She’s testing you.”
The woman followed the instructions, and the mare hesitantly lifted her head, chewing happily on a mouthful of leaves as they kept going up the trail.
His mind drifted back to the bracelet and Jewel’s face when she held it up in the barn, watching him so carefully, gauging his reaction, weighing every word he said.
She didn’t believe him. Or, at least, she wasn’t sure she believed him.
And he couldn’t blame her. The evidence was overwhelming. The bracelet hidden in his office, Vivian missing for nearly six months, his admission of knowing about Trevor, his fight with her over the affair, and his threat to fight for custody if she tried to leave with Beck.
Every fact pointed toward him. Every piece of evidence made him look guilty.
And the only explanation that might actually make sense—that the bracelet had been planted and someone was framing him—was exactly what a guilty man would claim.
He was trapped. Anything he said to defend himself only made him seem more suspicious. Any theory he proposed would just come across as desperate excuses.
So, last night, he sat at his kitchen counter, watching her watch him, and said nothing. He offered no explanations, no theories, no alternative stories. Just sat there like an idiot, letting the silence condemn him.
Maybe that was the right thing to do. At least he hadn’t given her more reasons to doubt him.
Or maybe it was exactly the wrong thing, and his silence confirmed her suspicions.
He didn’t know anymore. He was so exhausted from second-guessing everything he said and did, so tired of constantly judging his words based on how guilty they might make him seem.
He shook his head and focused on the trail, which had leveled out as they reached the overlook.
It was a wide clearing with a view that stretched for miles across the valley below.
The guests were dismounting with varying degrees of grace, Mrs. Morrison practically falling off her horse with a relieved sigh.
He dismounted quickly, helping the sturdy woman steady herself. “We’ll rest here for thirty minutes and have lunch. Let the horses drink from the creek over there, and then tie them to the hitching posts.”
He moved through the routine mechanically, checking girths, answering questions, and ensuring everyone had what they needed. The sun was higher now, warming the clearing, and the smell of sandwiches and trail mix filled the air as the guests settled onto the wooden benches to eat.
When he finished, he led Phantom to the creek, let him drink his fill, then tied him in the shade before pulling out his own lunch. He wasn’t hungry, but eating at least gave him something to do, a way to look occupied while his mind continued its endless loop.
The bracelet. Vivian. Jewel’s doubt. The mysterious car. And worst of all, the feeling that someone was pulling strings he couldn’t see, moving pieces on a board designed to trap him.
And beneath it all, the constant fear that no matter what the truth was or what really happened to Vivian, he was going to lose everything that mattered—his son, his reputation, and any chance he might’ve had with Jewel.
Mrs. Morrison walked over and sat down on the bench next to him with her sandwich. “It’s beautiful out here. Do you do this every day?”
He forced a smile. “Most days. It never gets old.”
She nodded, taking in the view. “Working out here must be nice. Peaceful.”
Yeah right. Peaceful.
Trying to appear like a man who had no worries beyond making sure his guests enjoyed a good trail ride, he smiled at her and took a bite of his sandwich, the bread dry in his mouth.
The ride back was slower. The horses were tired, and the guests were even more exhausted. By the time they reached the lodge, it was past two o’clock, and the afternoon sun beat down on the parking lot with enough heat to make the gravel shimmer.
Conrad’s truck was parked near the main building, along with several other vehicles he recognized as belonging to lodge guests. And there, near the entrance, was Jewel’s Audi.
His chest tightened. She probably drove by while he was out on the trail, maybe to talk to his mother or to use the internet for work, since the connection at the lodge was better than at the house.
He dismounted and started helping guests off their horses, taking reins and guiding the mounts back toward the barn. The teenage boy was full of questions about buying his own horse, and he answered automatically while scanning the lodge entrance.
That’s when he saw them.
Jewel stood on the front porch, her dark hair catching the sunlight. She was talking to someone, her posture stiff, her arms crossed defensively across her chest.