Page 25 of River Wild

“What about Holly Jo?’ Elaine asked protectively.

“She has an older boyfriend who has his driver’s license,” Holden said pointedly.

“Oh,” she said. “How much older?”

“Sixteen.” He proceeded to tell her what Pickett had told him. “He actually thinks I should let her go to this dance that’s coming up at the school with this boy in his car—even after she didn’t get permission when she ditched the bus to ride home with him. If Pickett hadn’t been at the county road to surprise her with a ride, who knows when we would have found out about him.”

Elaine chuckled again but quickly stopped when Holden added, “Pickett thinks someone needs to have the birds and bees talk with her. You’re the logical person.”

“Me?” she choked out.

“Who else is there?” he asked. “Bailey?” He guffawed at that.

“I think you should have a talk with her—” Elaine said before she was interrupted. “Not about the birds and bees, but about getting permission. I also think you should let her go to the dance—maybe drive her yourself until we know more about this boy. What’s his name?”

“Buck Savage.”

Elaine lifted a brow. “You know his father.”

“Uh-huh,” Holden said. “Why did I ever think I could raise this child?”

STUARTHALFEXPECTEDto wake up and find Bailey gone as usual. Last night they’d gone back out on the porch to drink their beers. The darkness had closed around them like a cocoon as they sat side by side in the wicker chairs he’d picked up at a garage sale. A breeze had come up, rustling the nearby trees.

For some reason, he hadn’t been afraid of what was out there in the dark. They’d sat out there like two people who’d been together for a long time. Almost like married people, he’d thought.

He’d felt the same way this morning when he’d walked into his kitchen and found her there making coffee. Last night, he’d had her in his arms. He was still shaken by that brief embrace and what she’d told him. She’d come to him.Finally.His relief mixed with his horror and fear, a deadly concoction. He had to find the man and make sure that he never touched another woman again. That he never came back for Bailey.

She finished scooping the grounds and leaned against the cabinet next to him as the coffee brewed. As if on impulse, she reached over and took one of his hands in hers. “I’ve always loved your hands. Well-used hands, rough for a sheriff, tanned and scarred. I’ve often thought about these hands...” She let go of him and pushed off the counter. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear that.”

He grinned at her. “My hands on your naked body? I’ve dreamed of that.”

“I want that,” she said almost shyly. “Now you know what’s holding me back.”

Stuart nodded. “I’m going to find him so you can put the nightmare behind you. It will be harder since it’s been twelve years.”

“Go ahead, say it. I should have gone to the sheriff when it happened, but he was yourfather, and I couldn’t because everyone would know.Hewould know. Since I never saw the man’s face, I couldn’t identify him. I was scared if I told anyone, he’d come back for me. The last thing he said as he stumbled out of the cabin was that he was going to kill me.”

“It would have helped had you gone to my father right away,” he agreed. “The man bled in that old cabin. My father would have gotten a sample of his blood, his DNA. It would have helped once we have a suspect.” He looked over at her. “But mostly, you wouldn’t have had to live with this alone all these years.”

“I wasseventeen. I was scared. I didn’t want anyone to know because...”

“You felt you’d done something to make it happen,” Stuart said.

“I can’t believe how ridiculous that is, but at the time, I did.”

He nodded. “Having his blood or even his DNA wouldn’t have led us to him if he hadn’t ever provided his DNA—unless he’s done this before.”

She nodded solemnly. “Did you get his DNA this time?”

“No, the river washed away any evidence he might have left. He was more careful.” He rerouted the conversation once the coffee started dripping and they took a seat at the kitchen table. He pulled out his phone, set it up and hit Record. “Let’s start with the rope he used. Can you describe it?”

“Clothesline cord, not rope. He had it cut in lengths, thus the knife he forgot.”

“Was cord something that was kept in that old cabin?”

She shook her head. “The cabin was empty, half falling down. He must have put it there beforehand—just like the knife and the branding iron and the wood he’d used to make the small fire to heat the iron.”

“He had everything he needed at the cabin and the syringe with the drug in his jacket pocket. Which means he’d been planning this for a while. All he needed to do was get you away from the house. You said your father sent you out to check the horse that had allegedly gotten out.”

---