Page 126 of A River of Crows

“Mom doesn’t have the gun. Even if she walks in, she’s not going to be able to hurt me,” Ridge assured her.

“You don’t give her enough credit. She knows Libby and Vince are in New Mexico. How would she know that?”

Ridge shrugged. “She must have overheard us talking that night. She’s left them alone all this time; hopefully, that won’t change.” He glanced at his watch. “I do need to get on the road soon.”

“Are you driving all night?”

“No, just to Dallas. Gonna find an RV park for the night. I’ll drive the rest of the way in the morning.”

“Then stay longer. Dylan just texted. He’s leaving his meeting and offered to pick up dinner. What sounds good?”

“Okay,” Ridge said. “It’ll be nice to hang out again before I go. Ask him to grab a few pizzas.”

Sloan frowned. “Pizza? Really?”

“Come on, if you wanted to choose, why did you even ask me?”

Sloan stared at her shoes. “It’s just that the night you disappeared, Mom had ordered pizza. I was too upset to eat. But the next night, I got hungry and had a piece. I ate one piece a day for a week. Pizza has never tasted the same since.”

Ridge slipped off his sandals and folded his legs under him. “Well, that’s just sad. Let’s crack open a few beers and redeem it.”

It was nearly dark, and Caroline wasn’t home. Dylan offered to take Ridge back to his RV and then search the creek. Sloan wanted to go, but he reminded her she needed to be here in case Caroline came home. It was just as well; Sloan wasn’t sure she could handle another goodbye with her brother.

She pulled out her phone and typed. Miss you already. Text me when you get to Dallas. But before she hit send, a call from Dylan came through. “Well, did you talk her into coming home?”

“Sloan . . .”

She heard distress in Dylan’s voice.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Come to the creek. Near Big Rock.”

Sloan’s chest tightened. “Why? What happened?”

“I can’t find Caroline. But they’ve got an extensive area blocked off. There are police. Someone said a woman drowned.”

His words and all other sounds in the room were muffled, like Sloan was the one underwater. She grabbed a throw pillow and clutched it to her chest. “It’s not Mom. Noah would have called me. Is he there? Give him the phone.”

“I don’t see Noah. Just come down here, okay? You’ll get here easier on foot. They’re blocking off a lot of the road.”

Sloan threw the pillow across the room and grabbed a flashlight. Her limbs felt heavy, but she ran as fast as she could. It’s not her. Noah would have called. He’d already know by now, and he would have called.

But when Sloan arrived at the creek, it was Noah’s arms that caught her. “Let go of me!” She tried to fight against him, but he held her arms tightly.

“You can’t go any farther. I’m sorry.”

Sloan leaned to look past him. Police officers. Flashlights. Blue and red flashing lights reflecting off the water. Bright yellow tape. Déjà vu.

“Is it her? Tell me it’s not her.”

“I just got here. I’m going to check, but I need you to stay here. You can’t come any closer.”

Dylan must have heard her yelling because he appeared out of nowhere, taking her into his arms. Sloan swatted a single tear. “This isn’t where she likes to walk. It may not be her.”

But then, a sound echoed through the trees. A crow’s caw so loud it made them both jump. Sloan watched the skies as another crow came, and then another. Soon, at least two dozen landed in nearby trees, screeching. It was the loudest, saddest sound Sloan had ever heard.

“A roost?” Dylan covered his ears. “This time of year?”

---