Page 68 of A River of Crows

“It’s my brother, but it’s not as simple as that.”

“So, your dad’s other family is some big sore spot unless you need them to get information about Eddie Daughtry? You’ve got to stop. I told you he’s dangerous.”

“Dad didn’t kill Ridge. I know it for a fact. For a fact, Dylan!” She stomped on the concrete.

“How?”

Sloan bit her lip. “I can’t tell you.”

Dylan threw up his hands. “I’ve tried to help you. I’ve let you into this investigation, into this nightmare of memories for me. But it’s not enough. You go behind my back and try to get information from this monster. You’ve got to trust the legal process. You’ve got to be patient.”

“Why should I have to be patient?” Sloan asked.

“Because if I’m being patient, so can you,” Dylan raised his voice. “So can anybody. I’m a victim here. Logan is a victim.”

“And so is Ridge,” Sloan said. “I can’t explain it yet, but I’m onto something big. Just trust me, please.”

Dylan blew out a few breaths. His body relaxed. Maybe it was going to be okay. Maybe he would trust her, be in her corner.

But Dylan didn’t so much as look at her again as he climbed into the jeep and sped away.

Sloan found Ridge in their old bedroom when she returned. “So, who’s Dylan?” he asked as Sloan lowered herself next to him on the bed.

“We had our first date last night, and it went to hell.”

“Sorry. Guess seeing me didn’t help.”

“No, it really didn’t,” Sloan said.

“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” Concern marred Ridge’s features.

“Of course not.”

Ridge relaxed and leaned back on a pillow. “Man, this is a trip, being back in this room. All I need is Blue.”

Sloan smiled. “Oh, Blue. Wonder where Mom put him. The last time I saw him was—” Sloan stopped, remembering the night at the By and Buy. “I’ll have to check in the attic. That’s where most of our stuff was stored when mom went into the hospital.”

Sloan looked over her shoulder at Ridge as if she might see scars, might see a clue that hinted where he’d been all this time. He seemed so happy, healthy, and confident. Escaping Eddie Daughtry to make a good life was possible. Dylan was proof of that, but why had Ridge never come home?

Sloan took a chance.

“It may not work with Dylan.” She pivoted her body to face Ridge. “He’s got a lot of trauma, and so do I. It’s probably a recipe for disaster.”

Ridge sat up on his elbows. “What’s this guy’s story?”

“He was a victim of Eddie Daughtry,” she said, staring at Ridge without blinking.

There were a few seconds of silence, where Sloan watched, wondering what Ridge would say, or at the very least, what his face would say, but it remained blank, slack, unaffected. He looked up at her. “Who’s Eddie Daughtry?”

Chapter 20

Mallowater, TX, 1988

Caroline thought about crows as she tried to fix the broken kitchen sink handle. All she wanted to do was stand outside, watch the sunset, and listen to the call of the crows. She loved watching them this time of year, as they forsook their spring and summer homes for the protection of a roost. It was beautiful, the sense of community crows had in fall and winter. How they’d band together and chase away predators, keep warm, and find food.

Of course, spring always came again. The crows separated, fought over territories and mates, then would go quiet, building hidden nests and protecting eggs. Caroline enjoyed finding the nests and observing the daily life of each crow family, but something about those fall and winter night roosts stirred her soul, made her long for a different life.

She followed Jay to Texas, fueled by dopamine and dreams after a chance meeting at a Fuller Brush conference, where she was waitressing. Those raging hormones had long since subsided, and her foolish fantasies had been squashed, but she still loved Jay deeply. Loved their children, loved the life they made.

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