Crimson River (The Edens)
Crimson River: Chapter 11

“You’re taking the day off?” Crystal’s eyebrows shot up, practically skimming her hairline. “Again?”

“Um, I don’t have to.” I wanted to blow off work today but wouldn’t if it made her uncomfortable. “I can stay.”

“No!” She shook her head and waved her arms in the air. “I was just surprised. Go.”

“Are you sur—”

“See ya.”

A smidge of guilt prickled, but I shoved the feeling away as I took one last glance around the kitchen. I’d been here baking since four this morning. The display case and walk-in were both stocked. Most of the prep work was done and every dish and coffee cup was clean.

For the second day in a row, I was leaving Eden Coffee in Crystal’s hands. If today was anything like yesterday, I had nothing to worry about.

When I’d come in this morning, the shop had been spotless and the kitchen gleaming beneath the bright florescent lights. Crystal had reorganized the shelves beside the dishwasher, swapping the bowls and plates, moving the latter down. We used the plates twice as often as the bowls and now they were easier to grab.

It was a little change, one I hadn’t even thought to make myself. Now it was glaringly obvious that we should have done it ages ago. What else was I missing because I’d refused to step away?

“Thank you,” I told Crystal, making a mental note to give her a raise.

“Of course.” She smiled, her lime-green lips splitting wide.

She’d be fine on her own today, but maybe it was time I hired another barista. Someone to help her out if I was gone. A part-time employee to work weekends or days like this, when I had somewhere else I wanted to be.

Vance and I were going to the mountains today, on the hike I hadn’t gone on yesterday. I’d left him in my bed earlier, his hair tousled and wild as he’d hugged a white pillow. Before I’d slipped out of the bedroom, he’d woken just enough to ask if I wanted to go along on his search.

After his confession about Cormac last night, saying yes had been easy.

But first, I’d needed to ensure Crystal was happy to take charge. More than happy, judging by the smile on her face.

“The cutest brunette ever came in yesterday,” she said. “We flirted a little bit. I’m really hoping she comes back today.”

“Ooh.” I laughed. “I hope she comes back too.”

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d dated a man or a woman she’d met at the shop. Crystal was as sweet as the apple turnovers I’d just pulled from the oven, and part of why I’d hired her was because she was so friendly and open. But she had a tendency to gossip with customers, so I always made sure that if there was something private to discuss, I did it where she couldn’t eavesdrop.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked as I pulled on my coat.

“Clean my house,” I lied. I adored Crystal, but my tryst with Vance would be all over Quincy if I let it slip. “Maybe go out to the ranch. We’ll see.”

“Well, don’t worry about the shop.”

“I won’t.” I actually believed that too. What was the worst that could happen? The building burning down? Once upon a time, that would have been the end of my world. Now . . . I’d be sad. But I’d pick myself back up.

Just like I had weeks ago along the riverbank.

“I’m glad you’re taking a day for yourself,” Crystal said.

“Me too.” With a quick wave, I left her to finish opening the shop, ducked out the back door to the alley and drove home.

Vance’s truck was in the driveway but parked closer to the garage door than it had been when I’d left this morning. I eased into the garage and went inside.

In the kitchen, he was dressed in yesterday’s clothes—a pair of thick, canvas Carhartt pants, a long-sleeved gray thermal and his usual soft flannel coat. The beanie I’d become accustomed to pulling off his hair was fixed in place.

He was scrolling through his phone as he sipped coffee from a paper cup covered in a black lid. Those weren’t the to-go cups from the hotel, but the gas station.

That coffee tasted like tar.

“We don’t drink that burnt sludge in this house,” I said.

Vance glanced up, those gray-blue eyes dancing as he tucked his phone away and set the cup aside. “You left me no choice but to get this from the gas station. You weren’t open when I drove to town.”

“I would have brought you coffee.” I closed the distance between us, rising up on my toes, but I couldn’t quite reach his lips, so I tugged on his collar, pulling him closer to kiss the corner of his mouth.

He bent over me, folding around me, and tucked his hands in the back pockets of my jeans, giving my ass a playful squeeze. “Get ready.”

I trailed my lips to the underside of his jaw. “Are we in a hurry?”

He kneaded my curves, but before I could reach for the button on his jeans, he had his hands on my shoulders, spinning me around. With a quick swat on the butt, he sent me toward my room.

“Prude,” I muttered.

His deep chuckle followed me down the hall as I hurried to change clothes.

The bed was made, the white quilt smooth. Like the exterior of the house, most of the rooms were painted white or cream. I liked bright and open spaces with wooden accents and different textures to add warmth.

The plethora of pillows were neatly arranged against my beige tufted headboard. He’d even done the karate chop, creasing them at the top. No man in my life knew about the karate chop.

Had Vance’s ex taught him to make the bed like that?

Jealousy swirled, but I shoved it away, ducking into my walk-in closet to pull on a sweater and warmer socks.

Vance wasn’t mine. I had no claim on his heart or body. While he was here, this was just sex. Incredible, addictive sex. And every night we’d shared a bed, either his or mine, I’d slept without a nightmare.

That had to be enough. Sex and sleep.

And today, searching for Cormac.

So I finished getting dressed and collected the same coat, hat and gloves I’d planned to wear yesterday. Then with a water bottle tucked in the crook of my arm, I followed Vance outside and climbed into his silver Dodge truck.

The drive toward the mountains was quiet, oddly reminiscent of the drive we’d taken together two weeks ago toward the river. Had it really only been two weeks? There were moments when it felt like I’d known him for years.

In reality, we were just strangers. Lovers, for a time. Would he go back to his ex after he left Montana? That jealousy surged again, harder to shrug off this time.

When was he leaving? After he found Cormac?

What if we found him today? His face flashed in my mind, causing my insides to twist. How was it that I hadn’t thought of this yet? Today wasn’t some leisurely hike in the mountains with Vance. We were after a killer.

Vance stretched across the cab and put his hand on my thigh. “Lyla.”

“Yeah?”

His thumb stroked my kneecap.

My knees were bouncing. I hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m okay.”

“You can do this.” He’d said the same thing weeks ago.

“I can do this.”

Vance kept his hand on my knee, a firm yet soft grip, until he needed both hands to turn into the gravel lot where we’d be leaving his truck.

The moment I stepped outside and breathed in the cool, mountain air, a bit of my nerves eased. These were my mountains. This was my home. Cormac Gallagher didn’t get to steal that from me.

Vance stowed my water bottle in his pack, strapping it to both shoulders, then, without a word, started for the trail.

I fell in step behind him as we traversed the path for about a mile.

“Have you been here before?” Vance’s question startled me, and I nearly tripped over a rock.

We’d been walking so quietly, I’d assumed it was because he wanted to keep some level of stealth. But he spoke in his normal voice, his boot stepping on a branch that snapped under his weight.

“Yes,” I whispered. “But not in ages.”

He glanced back. “Cormac isn’t anywhere around here.”

“How do you know?” The trees bordering the path were thick. Some had to be over a hundred years old, their trunks wide enough to hide a man.

“He won’t come near an established trail.”

“Oh.” My forehead furrowed. “Then why are we searching on a trail?”

Vance stopped, shifting to slide one strap of his pack off a shoulder. He unzipped the largest pocket, pulling out a map. With practiced ease, he unfolded and refolded it to show me a section. Part of it was marked out with a series of red, parallel lines.

“This is where we parked.” He pointed to the map, his finger trailing along the paper as he spoke. “This is the trailhead. Yesterday, I hiked around this area.”

The area shaded with the red lines.

“Today, we’ll hike through here.” Vance drew an imaginary circle on the map, directly above where he’d been yesterday. “Quickest way there is the trailhead. Once we make it up another mile, we’ll veer off the path.”

“Ah, okay.” It was impressive that he was so comfortable in the wilderness. And attractive. He was a rugged, mountain-man fantasy come to life. “So once we get off the trail, what are we looking for?”

Vance shrugged, returning the map to his pack. “Anything.”

With it secure, he kept walking, his strides easy, probably so I could keep up. No way he’d searched all of the area he had yesterday at this slow of a pace.

“I’m looking for what doesn’t belong,” he said.

“Like a footprint?” I turned, inspecting the path behind us. In some of the soft spots, the indent from his boot had imprinted the earth. “It’s muddy. That’s probably a good thing, right?”

“Good and bad,” he said. “A footprint would at least be a sign someone was in the area. Maybe from Cormac. Maybe not. Chances are, I’d be chasing someone else. Cormac would stick to the heavily forested areas, where the needles offer good cushion and camouflage on the ground.”

“Interesting.” I’d spent most of my youth exploring the ranch. Hiking as a teen. Horseback riding with my parents and siblings. Not once had I thought about the traces I’d left behind. Or how to mask them.

We continued along the trail, walking in silence as the terrain steepened. When Vance stopped, digging out my water, sweat was beading at my temples beneath my hat.

Meanwhile, he barely looked winded. Was this how he kept that magnificent body in shape? How he had such stamina to play with mine for hours and hours each night? Hooray for hiking.

“Let’s take a break.” He walked to a fallen tree, using his boot to kick off a piece of decaying bark. Beneath it, the wood was smooth and tan.

“I can keep going.”

“Sit,” he ordered. “I need you to save some energy for later.”

“Why? What’s later?” I turned in a circle. A rock cliff loomed in the distance. We weren’t climbing that today, were we?

“Later, I’m fucking you on that fancy couch in your living room.”

“Oh.” My face flamed. “Later.”

Vance winked. It was so playfully sexy my heart tumbled, so I took my seat, catching my breath as he leaned against a neighboring tree trunk.

“Hungry?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder.

He rifled through his pack, taking out two granola bars, tossing one to me before he tore at the wrapper of his own. He didn’t wolf it down or seem to be in any hurry to move along.

Today wasn’t really about the search, was it?

Today, he was humoring me. Bringing me out here because maybe he knew I needed a break from the coffee shop. Or maybe he knew I needed more days in these mountains to reclaim them for myself.

“How long were you and Cormac partners?” I asked.

“Seven years.” The lightness in Vance’s eyes faded.

“We don’t have to talk about him.”

“No, it’s all right.” He stared into the forest, his gaze losing focus. “I haven’t talked about him in a long time. Kind of made it a point not to.”

“We really don’t need to.”

He balled up his now-empty wrapper and leaned deeper into the tree. “After the academy, I spent a couple years as a deputy doing fairly routine work. Mostly putting my time in, proving myself. I met Cormac at a department holiday party. We got to talking, and I told him I was interested in working for the backcountry unit. He took me out hiking the next week. Snow to our waists. Cold as hell. He pushed me to the extreme, but I kept pace with him to the summit. Views for days. Worth the work.”

His voice quieted as he spoke, almost like he was tiptoeing around those memories, careful not to disturb them.

“I didn’t realize until we got back to town it was a test,” he said. “Cormac pulled some strings, and by that summer, I’d been transferred. He became my mentor. Partner. Friend.”

Until Cormac had snapped and murdered his family.

“I spent a lot of time with him and his family,” Vance said. “I told you he was the coach for his daughter’s softball team?”

“Yeah.”

“I was the assistant coach. I taught his twins how to whittle wooden spoons. When Cormac was working, I’d shuttle his oldest to swim team practice. Those girls were the closest thing to my own daughters as I’ve ever had.”

And he’d lost them. My heart cracked. “I’m sorry.”

“He was a good dad.” Vance shook his head, his eyebrows coming together. “He was a great dad. He loved those girls.”

Then why? Why had he killed them? Unless . . .

“Do you think he really did it?” I hated even asking that question. After what Cormac had done to me, I had no trouble thinking of him as a murderer. But the doubt written on Vance’s face crept into my mind.

“In my head”—he tapped his temple—“he killed them. He strangled Norah.”

Norah. A pretty name. I pitied her already for the way she’d died. I hoped, for her sake, that she hadn’t known that he’d killed their children.

“There’s no question,” Vance continued. “I’ve gone through the evidence countless times. It all points to Cormac. And the fact that he ran.”

“Innocent men don’t run.”

“No, they don’t.” He sighed. “In my head, all the pieces fit. But in my heart, I can’t make sense of it.”

Because to Vance, Cormac had been a friend and mentor too. Not a cold-blooded killer. “That’s why you need to replace him. You want answers.”

Vance went quiet again, his gaze roving the nearby trees. “Starting to think I might not get them.”

“I hope you do.”

“So do I,” he murmured, swallowing hard.

I stood from my seat, brushing off the seat of my jeans. Then I handed Vance my bottle to put in his backpack with my own granola bar wrapper. “Okay, we’re looking for footprints but we’re not looking for footprints. What else?”

“Cormac was out hunting when you found him. Not for sport, but food. Which means he probably has a shelter in the area. I found no signs of him around the river, so he’s probably been careful to hunt far away from where he’s camped.”

“Then why did he come to the river that day?” That place wasn’t close to the road, but it wasn’t exactly secluded either.

“Hunting season. Maybe he thought he’d blend in as just another bow hunter. Maybe he was tracking the elk and that’s where she led him.”

I guess when you lived off the wilderness for food, you took the opportunities given. “How much distance would he put between his camp and where he was hunting?”

Vance shrugged. “Ten miles? Twenty? Maybe more.”

“Twenty miles?” A mental circle extended in my head, its edge stretching farther and farther into the forest. Twenty miles on a smooth, flat highway would take at least five hours to walk. But through these woods? Days.

The magnitude of this search, the improbability of it being successful, rolled over me like the dense fog clinging to the jagged mountain peaks.

Was this hopeless?

Like he’d plucked the question from my thoughts, Vance reached out, his palm cupping my cheek. In that clear gaze, I saw the truth he’d been hiding for weeks.

This was hopeless, wasn’t it? Yet he was still here, combing through this forest day in and day out.

He hadn’t given up, not yet. So neither would I.

“What else do you look for?”

“Animal snares.” His thumb stroked my skin before he dropped his hand and adjusted his backpack. “Tree stumps that look like they’ve been cut down, not broken. And he’d stay relatively close to a water supply.”

“But not the river?”

“Probably not. There are plenty of mountain streams around. He’ll use one of them as his source instead.”

A stream. Or . . . a waterfall.

I spun in a slow circle, trying to get my bearings. “There are two waterfalls off this trailhead.”

“Two?” Vance asked. “According to the local guidebooks, there’s only one. Are you sure?”

“Positive. This trail leads to the main one.” Hence the reason there was even a trail to begin with and a parking lot at the base. “But there’s another waterfall up here too. There’s just no trail leading to it. I don’t know how far we’ve walked and it’s been forever since I came up this way. But I want to say five miles, maybe? I think I’ll recognize the way to get there? Fingers crossed.”

“All right. Lead the way.”

“Promise not to be mad at me if I get us lost?”

He stepped close and brushed a kiss against my forehead. “You get us lost. I’ll get us found.”