Page 59 of A Little Luck

The door slams open on the trailer, and Bull Jones storms out onto the porch in a stained white tank and jeans. “What the fuck you doing here, Stone? Somebody’s pumpkin patch get raided? Chickens missing? You think we don’t have anything better to do than teenage pranks?”

Bull is a big guy with tattoos on his neck and a silver scar slicing his bottom lip. We’re the same height, but he’s a bit thicker than I am. He’s a lot meaner, too, but I straighten to my full height.

“Actually, my friend here is working on a missing person’s case. We’d hoped you might have some information on her whereabouts.”

“I haven’t seen any missing women in town. Neither have you, Raif.”

I don’t have to tell him his reply makes him look even more suspicious.

Bender cuts in. “I’d be surprised if Bull or Raif had seen her. It’s been, what, twenty years since Rosie took off?”

“Give or take a few years,” Marshall answers, taking out a card and handing it to Raif. “Let me know if you think of anything. Good luck with your pig project.”

I hold Bull’s stare a beat longer, mostly because I don’t like bullies. “See you at the wedding, Ben. I’ll let Alex know you’re in town.”

“Tell him I’ll be over this afternoon if he has time for a visit, what with the wedding and all.”

“I’m sure he’ll make time.”

With that, I turn and head for the car where Marshall’s waiting. The three of them stand in the yard, watching as we drive away. Bull has his hands at his sides, and he’s snorting like he’s trying to live up to his nickname. Raif actually smiles and waves, and Bender pours another shot of bourbon like nothing happened.

“You’re looking for someone who’s been missing twenty years?” I glance at Marshall as we head back down the skinny sand and dirt road.

“Something like that.”

“Is she dead?”

“No, but we’re meant to think she is.”

Propping my arm on the door, I shake my head. “It would’ve been helpful to know we were searching for someone older.”

“I never said I was looking for a young woman.” He rolls a small cigar in his fingers. “Rosie McClure faked her death when she ran away. She made it look like her car skidded in the rain and went off a bridge taking her and her child with it. The only problem was no bodies were ever found.”

“You don’t think they were swept away by the current?”

“Not anymore. In my research on the area, the name she’s been hiding under popped up at a hospital about ten years ago.” He takes out a phone and taps a few times on the face. “It’s a common name, so it wasn’t much of a lead, more a hunch really. Until your friend back there confirmed it.”

“He confirmed she’d been here. Not that she’s still here.”

“She is, though.” He looks out the window. “And I’m going to find her.”

CHAPTER13

PIPER

“You’re sleeping with him, but he still doesn’t know?” Drew’s tone is calm, but a painful knot is in my throat. “How are you managing that?”

We’re having a quick, FaceTime check-in, and I know she can read my expression as clearly as I can read hers.

“At first it was dark. Then I was able to turn away, so he didn’t see.” I think of how close we almost got that second night, until I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“How does that make you feel?”

Like a liar.

“I was going to tell him today. I was about to say the words, when we were interrupted by my new employee.”

My heart beats faster, and my breath catches when I think of him seeing those pictures. It was the one time I mustered the courage to document what Rex had done to me. I stood in front of the mirror and photographed all my scars, thinking I’d go to someone… not Aiden, of course… but someone who could help me, and tell them how he hurt me, how he cut my body in places that wouldn’t show.

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