Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(85)
But I had to appreciate that his question was a hell of a turnaround from refusing to help and cursing me for wanting to. But I didn’t mention it. That would just turn Kol into a grizzly with a thorn in his paw. “Good. Kids are resilient, man. Owen was chatting my head off about backdoors into mainframes and remote access tools.”
Kol chuckled as he scanned his surroundings, always looking for the things I couldn’t see. “Please, do not get that kid arrested for hacking at age eight.”
My lips twitched. “Who, me?”
“Jesus,” Kol muttered.
I laughed.
“And Brae’s holding up?” Kol pressed.
God, he was good. Cantankerous and guarded, but once you got behind his walls, Kol would protect you with everything he had. And Brae and Owen were starting to crack those shields.
“She’s holding it together but trying to hide how much this fucks her up.”
“How could it not?” Kol said, his voice low. “Whoever’s doing this is seriously twisted.”
The words had my heart picking up speed to that anxious, fluttering beat. I had the ridiculous urge to turn around and drive into town just to check on Brae. She’s fine. I spoke the words silently, over and over, until I finally pulled out my phone.
Barely any bars, but I managed to get off a text.
Me
All good?
Wylder
Besides Mav ruffling Aster’s feathers and nearly getting an iced tea poured on his head? Just peachy.
Me
What the hell is wrong with him?
Wylder
Maybe he’s a masochist.
Me
Or he just likes Aster’s brand of pain.
Wylder
Maybe.
Me
Brae’s good?
Pressing for info on her specifically was telling, and I knew it, but I wouldn’t be able to focus if I didn’t ask. And I needed my brain pointed in one direction—one that wasn’t Brae-centric.
Wylder
Your girl’s good. I got her back.
Your girl. Fuck me, that sounded way too good. I shoved the sensation down, locking it away with the stew of emotions I never let myself truly feel—nothing too bad but nothing too good either. I needed to live in the stable middle.
“This is it,” Kol called, looking down at his GPS.
That pulled my head out of my ass and into the present where it needed to be.
Kol pulled out his phone and selected Nova’s bio in our casefile app. It had a handful of photos of her, along with height, weight, and identifying features. Kol always wanted that information fresh because he said it impacted the trail someone might leave behind.
“Brae said she went off the trail toward the water to get a photo of the wildflowers. That’s gotta be here.” I could just make out the pops of peach poppies through the trees. The little bed of them grew in the one patch of unfiltered sunlight a ways up from the riverbank.
It made sense. Poppies needed plenty of sun to grow, and it was rare to find them in forested areas. But these had found a way.
“Let’s find her trail first.” Kol shoved his phone into his pocket and headed for the break in the brush.
A year after the incident, there wouldn’t be anything Brae left behind. There’d been rain, snow, and sun in heavy rotation since then. Wildlife would’ve tracked through. Possibly people, too.
But there were still things Kol would see—stuff the rest of us would miss. He’d told me once that it was like his mind saw all the infinite possibilities and then narrowed them down based on likelihood, as if he were constantly running a math equation.
Kol crouched low before stepping off the path. He cocked his head one way and then the other, taking it all in. He pointed in one direction. “Underbrush is broken down through here. My guess is that more than one person was lured off the trail by the wildflowers.”
Kol led the way, taking note of some broken branches and trampled earth. We spotted a few slide marks that told us how easy it would’ve been for Brae to slip. And if Nova had wandered off trail, too, she might’ve fallen into the river. But it didn’t explain her water bottle in the parking lot or someone having her phone and necklace. It didn’t explain the dried blood.
And it wasn’t logical. If Nova moved off trail toward the river, she would’ve followed Brae. And Brae would’ve heard her.
After studying where the makeshift trail came to an end, we turned around and headed back up the embankment. But as we did, I heard a muttered curse.
Kol’s hand went to the butt of his gun as he put a finger to his lips. He moved stealthily up the trail, then frowned. “Sheriff Miller?”
The man whirled around, his hand going to the butt of his weapon as well, as his mustache twitched wildly. “Jesus, Kol. Make a little noise, would ya?”
Kol frowned as we stepped out onto the trail. “What are you doing out here?”
Miller’s eyes shifted to the side in that cagey way of his, and I thought he’d tell us to get lost or something more colorful. But he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I fucked up.”