Page 29 of The Souls of Lost Lake
A hand shot up.
John pointed at it. “Yes?”
“Do we still believe she got lost?” one of the volunteers asked.
John deferred to the sheriff, whose expression remained passive. “We are still going under the theory that Jasmine is lost and cannot find her way back home. However, we aren’t ruling out other possibilities.”
“Abduction?” the volunteer asked.
Wren wanted to throttle the person for the insensitivity with the girl’s parents being present.
Sheriff Floyd managed it well. “As I said, we’re not ruling anything out at the moment. We’re looking at this from all angles. For now, we need all of you to maintain strict adherence to the direction of John and his experienced SAR team.” He held up his palms. “We don’t need heroes. Stick to the search grid and the techniques you’ve been coached on. Thank you.”
There was a general murmur that started up in the group. Jasmine’s parents moved to a cluster of metal folding chairs. Brucemade his way toward Troy, and Wren held on to Troy’s hand, squeezing it as the officer approached. His brown eyes were missing the customary sparkle Wren was used to, even though she didn’t know Bruce nearly as well as Eddie did.
“Please pass our thanks on to the camp administration.” Bruce shook Troy’s hand, then Wren’s.
Troy nodded. “Of course.”
Bruce ran his fingers around the collar at his neck. “This is just—heavy.”
“Not what you signed up for?” Troy tried to meet the officer in conversation halfway.
Bruce gave him a quick look. “Oh, I signed up for it. It just isn’t easy. Not when it’s a kid.”
“Is there a possibility Jasmine was taken?” Wren inserted, not missing the way Sheriff Floyd had left that door open.
Bruce gave her a semi-apologetic smile. “You know I can’t comment about that, Wren.”
“But the fact you can’t says there is that possibility,” she surmised.
Bruce shrugged. “Interpret it however you want. Either way, she’s missing. The investigation is ongoing.”
Wren knew she shouldn’t push further. Her gaze landed on the grieving parents, Ben and Meghan. “And the Rivieras? How are they holding up?”
Bruce barked a short, dry laugh. “Horrid.” He sighed. “I have a daughter now, and man, if it were Clara out there, I’d ... I don’t know how the Rivieras are even keeping it together.”
Wren’s heart constricted at the idea. “I feel like I should talk to them. The camp should be offering them support beyond just a place to run SAR.”
“They could use that,” Bruce said before ducking his head and walking away.
Troy tugged at her hand, pulling her closer. Wren came but with barely concealed resistance. She peered over his shoulder at the grieving, desperate parents even as Troy held her.
Sensing the stiffness in her body, he drew back, searching her face. “You okay?”
Wren bit her lip. Troy’s gaze followed the movement, and then he returned his attention to her, waiting for an answer.
“I’m just—” Wren hesitated. Somehow telling Eddie was easier than telling Troy. But it was Troy who held her, wanted her, who understood her in so many ways. “I’ve got a bad feeling. Ever since last night—when we were at the Coons cabin ruins and Lost Lake. Something isn’t right.”
“It’s not.” Troy reached up and pushed a tendril of her coppery hair from her face. “It’s not all right. We’ve got a camp full of campers to run, a missing girl, and for what it’s worth, that doll was creepy. It would’ve unnerved you on a good day.”
“But it was just a doll,” Wren affirmed, more for herself than for Troy.
He gripped her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Yeah. Just a doll. It’s not like Ava Coons wanders the woods and writes your name on an old doll’s foot. She’s not hunting you—or anyone.”
Wren pulled away. “I’m not afraid of a ghost, Troy.”
He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean that you were. I’m just saying—”
