Page 78 of River Wild

“I’ll find Bailey, and we’ll come help,” Stuart told them.

The two hurried off. Stuart couldn’t leave without Bailey. He turned back to the line of blue plastic outhouses, glanced at his watch, then frowned. Bailey should have been back by now.

As he made his way to the toilets, his heart began to pound. All of the doors were closed. He began trying them, starting with the first one and going down the line. Any with people in them, he yelled, “Who’s in there?”

Several men answered and one woman. Not Bailey. With growing urgency, he hurried down the row. Not Bailey. Not Bailey. He reached the last one. Not Bailey.

He looked around for her. Had she gone back to the dining area a different way, and he’d just missed her? He knew she’d been getting antsy, so invested in having this end here today. Had she done something reckless?

Stuart ran back out to where they’d been sitting earlier, searching the diminishing partygoers. No Bailey. People were leaving now that they’d eaten. Only the diehards would stay for the free booze until it, too, was cut off.

He looked around, aware that dusk was gathering and feeling his anxiety growing. Where was she? His heart had known even before he had started checking the toilets. She could have used going to the restroom as a ruse, daring the killer to finally make his move.

Still, he went back along the row of toilets, looking for a sign of a struggle, trying to think like the killer, because he didn’t want to believe Bailey had gone rogue. If the killer had grabbed her here, wouldn’t someone have noticed?

He hurried to the last stall and looked into the thick stand of cottonwoods. Golden leaves cascaded down in the breeze, ghostlike in the last of the daylight. He could smell the river but couldn’t see it. He looked down at the bed of leaves on the ground. There was no way to track her. Except for her phone.

He looked on his phone and then at the last outhouse in the row. The phone was inside there. As soon as the person came out, he checked and knew at once. It had been dropped down into the toilet hole. He swore.

Stuart thought he was being so careful, hardly letting her out of his sight. But he knew in his gut, in his heart. The killer had her—just as she’d known the man would come for her. Why hadn’t she called for help? What had happened after she’d disappeared around the corner along the row of portable toilets? Was it possible she’d dropped her phone into the hole so he couldn’t follow her? Not even Bailey would do that to throw him off her trail.

His mind raced as he felt seconds ticking by.Think.Where would the killer take her? He tried to remember who of the four men Bailey had suspected were still at the party. He’d seen all four of them just minutes ago, hadn’t he?

Through the low limbs of the cottonwoods, he could see nothing but darkness. If he was right and this was where she’d been grabbed, then where could he take her and not be seen? Not to get his valeted vehicle. He’d head for the river and the county road, where he’d either stashed another vehicle, or...

Or someone was picking him up.

The accomplice.

Making a quick call to the deputies he had standing by, he told them to stop any vehicle leaving the barbecue. Then he rushed back to the party to look one more time for Bailey. He felt as if he’d just missed her by a few minutes. But she was nowhere in sight. Because she was no longer here.

He was more convinced than ever that the killer would have taken her into the trees toward the river. But before he could move, he heard his name called and turned to see Holden rushing toward him. “If this is about Tilly—”

“No,” Holden said, sounding winded. Or scared. Stuart’s pulse jumped. “I saw her.”

“Bailey?” he asked hopefully, but the rancher shook his head.

“The woman who told me that one of our horses was out at the last barbecue,” Holden said, catching his breath. “I just saw her getting in her pickup and remembered. It was Norma, Norma Jones.”

Stuart stared at him. That wasn’t possible. Ralph Jones was the man? “Was Ralph with her?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“She was by herself and seemed to be in a hurry. Where’s Bailey?”

“Ralph Jones has her,” he said, even though he was having trouble imagining that Ralph was the man. But how else could he explain it? Unless someone else had told Norma to notify Holden about the horse twelve years ago.

Stuart couldn’t take the chance. “Don’t let anyone else out on the road, and if you see Norma, don’t let her leave. Or Ralph either.” Stuart turned and ran toward the stable, where a saddled horse was waiting for just this occurrence. They had tried to think of everything, knowing if the man wanted to get to Bailey, he would.

As he swung up into the saddle and spurred the horse toward the cottonwoods, he notified his deputies. “Stop Norma Jones and her husband, Ralph. Whatever you do, don’t let them get away.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

STUARTRACEDTHEhorse through the dark shadows beneath the thick stand of cottonwoods. He told himself that Ralph would head for the river. Once he’d heard that Norma was headed for the county road along the river, he knew where she was going and why. He told himself that Ralph wouldn’t hurt Bailey. Not yet.

He could feel darkness close in around him the moment he left the ranch and lights behind. Bailey was out here somewhere, probably already drugged. Norma would be coming down the county road to pick the two of them up. If he didn’t stop them before that, he had no idea where they were taking Bailey.

Somewhere close? He still couldn’t get his head around Norma being a part of this, let alone Ralph. But like most places, the Powder River Basin had an ugly underbelly. Most people never saw it, never knew anything about the evil in even their closest neighbors. But Bailey did.

Ahead he could see the river winding north to dump into the Yellowstone. Past it were more cottonwoods and finally the county road. His radio squawked, and he brought his horse up short to answer it.

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