Page 74 of The Girl in the River

Ronnie came out of the curtained room, and the bartender clammed up, darting to another customer. Judging from his reaction and his warning, Ronnie and her boys were dangerous.

“Did you notice those whiskey barrel tables are similar to the one Patty was found in?” Derrick asked as they sipped their drinks and studied the patrons.

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “The bartender hinted that Ronnie and her boys are dangerous. What if they’re connected to the Moons?”

NINETY-SEVEN

BABBLING CREEK RANCH

Kevin parked on the corner of the street near Emily Nettle’s house facing the backyard, hoping to get a glimpse of Pixie. Through the window, he saw a slender sandy blond-haired woman in the kitchen with kids running all around her as she juggled plates into the dishwasher.

He didn’t see Pixie, but he would tonight. The need to know the truth was making him crazy.

While he waited, he retrieved the photos Calvin had sent. He’d used a wide angled lens to view a close-up of the little girl.

Her face was heart shaped like Jesse’s, her blond pigtails the same golden silky shade as well. And those big brown eyes…

Jesse had blue eyes.

His were brown.

His breathing turned raspy as he swiped to see another photo – this one of the little girl sitting alone in a swing, her face downcast, with tears running down her cheeks. Other children were playing in the yard, but she was all alone.

He traced a finger over the photograph. “Are you my baby girl?” he whispered.

Chest tight, he opened the photo album he’d brought from home, the one chronicling his early years that his mother had made for him before she’d died. Unlike most folks these days, she’d insisted on storing his baby pictures and other photos in an old-fashioned album. She called it scrapbooking or something like that.

As he thumbed through, he found a picture of himself where he was four, the same age as the little girl Pixie.

Anger nagged at him at that silly name. He’d had no say in that choice. Although he could always change it when she came to live with him.

He zeroed in on the details of himself as a child – his hair had been blond when he was young but turned darker to a light brown by his twenties. He focused on his eyes – the same dark chocolate as Pixie’s. He felt as if he’d been sucker punched.

The back door opened and three boys raced out and ran to the trampoline, shouting as they began to jump. Following them came a red-headed girl with freckles then Pixie, both the girls carrying popsicles over to the swings. They climbed in, the redhead giggling and licking. Pixie nibbled at hers with those big sad eyes, haunted and quiet. As she gripped the rope swing, he noticed a tiny little birthmark on her hand.

He looked down at his own and lost his breath. He had the same birthmark.

In that very second, he knew without a doubt that she was his.

Damn Jesse for robbing him of his daughter. Damn her to hell.

He would have his daughter and raise her. He felt like running to her now and telling her the truth, that her mother was a liar and a thief, and that he was her daddy.

His hand reached for the doorhandle, then he paused, common sense bleeding through his rage and pain.

Although the sun was fading, it was still light. He had to play it smart. Wait until the right moment.

NINETY-EIGHT

LIZARD CREEK

Night had fallen, the sun only a memory as dark clouds moved in to end the day in a dismal gray. As Thelma wound around the switchbacks, she kept thinking about that detective and federal agent, hoping they could do something about the bad blood on Foggy Mountain.

Some said the red mist was caused by mineral deposits in the soil but she believed it was tears of blood rising from the graves of those who’d been living in fear for so long. Her tears for her lost daughter were among them, falling now, her gut wrenching with such pain she felt like she was literally bleeding inside.

Lights flickered behind her as a car crept up on her and she slowed, hoping he’d pass as she reached a wider section of the road and crossed the bridge over Lizard Creek. That creek always gave her the shivers. She’d heard stories about the Tegus lizards that could grow up to four feet long. Normally seen in southeast Georgia, some said they were migrating here and were destroying the wildlife.

She hadn’t driven this way in ages because it led her to the horrible place that had stolen her soul, but tonight she had it on her mind and wondered if there was something she could do to save the others.

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