Vanishing hour, p.14
Vanishing Hour, page 14
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust as she scanned the grassy slope leading down to the creek. She strained to listen for a critter or maybe a couple of deer moving through. But all she heard was the faint rustle of wind in the scrub trees.
She walked down the steps and tipped her head back to look at the sky. It was dark at last. They days had gotten long as they approached the summer solstice. The half-moon cast a silvery glow over everything, and the soft scent of juniper wafted over her.
The pistol in her hand felt cool and heavy, and she thought of her father. The Smith & Wesson was his, like Huck had been. Ava stared up at the sky, picking out Ursa Major and Scorpius, and she remembered her dad teaching her the constellations back when she was a little girl, and he could do no wrong.
Something came up. I couldn’t get away.
A bitter lump lodged in her throat. She understood exactly how her mother had felt all those times. Ava remembered the tight set of her mother’s mouth as she switched off the stove and told Ava and Abby to go ahead, have dinner, don’t wait for your father. She pictured her mother pulling the turkey from the oven and lighting the birthday candles and serving the Christmas coffee cake. It was always the same, just the three of them, and when her mother finally decided she’d had enough and left him, it wasn’t even that different. It was a change of geography, yes, but Ava’s dad had been absent from their lives for years.
She’d sworn to herself that she’d never let a man take her for granted. All her life, she’d watched her mother do it. She’d seen how it chipped away at her confidence, little by little, until there was almost nothing left. Ava wasn’t sure what finally pushed her mom over the edge and prompted her to leave, and her mom had never talked about it. But Ava had her suspicions.
A screech pierced the air, followed by a thunk.
Ava whirled around. That had come from the fence, up by the driveway. Using her phone as a flashlight, Ava walked across the grassy yard, scanning the bushes for any sign of an animal. She neared the fence and there it was again: screech-thunk!
The gate stood open.
Ava glanced around nervously before tromping across a patch of knee-high grass. She swung the metal gate shut and secured the latch. She scanned the area, and her gaze lingered on a dark clump of trees in the distance and the faint yellow light of the McCoulloughs’ front porch. Maybe Jenna had been down here. Or Lucy with Huck.
Ava turned and looked down toward the water. The RV park was quiet. Had some trespasser come up from the creek and cut through here?
A predator could have taken her. The human kind.
A chill snaked down Ava’s spine as she trekked back to her house. She scanned the bushes and shadows around her. She aimed her light at the path as she neared the porch steps.
Shoeprints.
Ava’s pulse quickened as she stared down at the impressions in the dirt. Taking care not to step on them, she followed the prints from the patch of grass and across the dirt driveway to where they disappeared into the grass again.
The prints were moving toward the house, and Ava felt a flurry of nerves as she approached it. Gripping the pistol in her right hand, she held the phone in her left and aimed the light along the ground as she circled the cottage.
More shoeprints.
Ava glanced up at her bedroom window, and a slimy ball of dread filled her stomach. Had someone been standing here, watching her? Had someone tried to break in? She studied the window casing but saw no pry marks or damage.
She aimed her light at the prints again. Tapping on her camera feature, she snapped a picture.
Large shoes, maybe a man’s ten or eleven. Textured tread. Ava breathed in and out and tried to keep her nerves steady as she photographed the prints from various angles, but her throat was dry as sand and her hands were shaking.
Someone had been here, right here, creeping around her house. What were they doing? And where had they gone? Maybe they were still out here, hiding in the shadows and watching her.
“Hey.”
Ava gasped and whirled around.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
A shadow loomed behind her.
“Oh my God, put that down!” a voice said.
“Jenna?”
Ava turned the light toward her, and Jenna flinched.
“What the hell are you doing out here with a gun?”
Ava tucked the pistol in the waistband of her jeans. “Sorry.”
“Seriously, Ava. What the hell?”
“I heard a noise out here. And I came out and found the gate open and shoeprints around the house.”
“Shoeprints?”
“Yeah. See?”
She shined the phone flashlight at the prints, and Jenna stepped closer.
“Well?”
“Well, yeah. They’re shoeprints.” Jenna’s brow furrowed and she looked at her. “Whose are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Jenna cast a glance toward the creek bed. “Probably some pervert from the RV park.”
“You think?”
“Or maybe a thief. My dad’s truck was broken into last month.”
“It was?”
“Yeah, sorry. I meant to tell you. They didn’t steal anything, but they busted the window and searched the glove box.”
Ava took another glance at the shoeprints. Then she and Jenna walked around the house and mounted the front steps.
“I wish you’d told me when it happened,” Ava said.
“I’m sorry. I meant to. I don’t know why I forgot.”
Jenna followed her into the house. Ava put the pistol away and returned to the living room.
“Someone was skulking around here, looking in the windows,” Ava said.
“Did they try to break in?”
“Doesn’t look like it. But still, it’s creepy.”
“You want to call the cops?”
Ava shrugged.
Jenna glanced around the cottage. Her gaze landed on the drop-leaf table near the window, which was set for two. Ava had put a little votive candle in the middle.
Jenna looked at her. “Date tonight?”
“He’s not coming.” She went into the kitchen and turned off the stove.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. He probably got tied up at work.”
Jenna’s eyebrows arched.
Ava looked her friend over and noticed she was wearing her favorite white jeans and a stretchy black top.
“Where are you headed?” she asked.
“Henley. I’m meeting a high school friend for drinks. I stopped by to see if you wanted to come.”
“No, thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
If it was a male friend, Ava didn’t want to be a third wheel. And if it was a female friend, Ava didn’t want to smile and make chitchat and listen to gossip about people she didn’t know. She was in a mood now. Two hours ago she’d been humming in the shower, and now she just wanted to eat ice cream and go to bed.
Jenna stepped closer and leaned her hip against the counter. “What did Grant say when he called?”
“He hasn’t.”
“No?”
“No.”
“How late is he?”
“An hour and a half.”
Jenna bit her lip. “Well. I’m sorry. That’s shitty. But when he does call, you should tell him about the footprints.”
“Maybe.”
“Or I could call Connor.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll talk to Grant.”
Jenna turned away from the pathetic dining table and surveyed the living room. “What’s all that?”
“Maps.”
“I can see that. What are they for?”
Ava sighed and stepped over to the coffee table. “Silver Canyon State Park.” Ava sank onto the sofa. “Are you aware that there are vortexes all over this area? There are two in Silver Canyon and one near Big Bend.”
“Are you talking about that New Age crap? Crystals and earth energy?”
“It attracts a lot of people here.”
“I’ve heard.” She shrugged. “What about it?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s interesting.”
“Why?”
“Molly Shaw was found near one of the locations.”
“She was?”
“Yeah.”
Jenna stepped over and frowned down at the map. “Where?”
Ava tapped her finger on the map. “Have you ever been to this spot? It’s a giant boulder about thirty feet tall called Sun Rock.”
“Never heard of it. There’s a Moon Rock on the north side of the Bensen Ranch next door to here. It’s near a cave filled with bats. We used to have keg parties out there.”
“But you’ve never been to Sun Rock?”
“No. It looks really remote. That’s, like, the dead center of the park.”
“It’s a five-hour hike from the nearest trailhead. You’ve heard of Enchanted Rock just outside Austin?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, like Enchanted Rock, Sun Rock was thought by Native American tribes to hold special powers. Some people believe these rock formations are a portal to another world.” Portals were yet another one of the theories Rachel Spencer had been researching in the months since her daughter’s disappearance.
Ava traced her finger over the shortest route to Sun Rock from the trailhead. It wasn’t even marked on the map. So, was there a trail there that the map wasn’t showing, or did people simply know how to find it?
“Ava?”
She glanced up.
“Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m worried about you. You seem preoccupied lately with this whole Brittlyn Spencer thing.”
“I am. I’ve been talking to her mom.”
“Well, do you think that’s healthy?”
“Healthy how?”
“You know, getting pulled into this woman’s obsession with finding her daughter.”
Ava stared up at her.
“I don’t think it’s good for you,” Jenna went on. “And you’re spending a ton of time on it, canceling meetings and disappearing from the office in the middle of the day.”
Ava blinked up at her, unable to believe what she was hearing. She would have thought Jenna, as a mother, would understand where Rachel Spencer was coming from.
“Don’t get defensive,” Jenna said.
“I’m not.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I can see you’re pissed. I just don’t want you to get completely sucked into this woman’s orbit. I mean, vortexes and earth energy? Since when are you interested in that?”
Ava’s phone chimed in her pocket, and she pulled it out. Grant.
“See?” Jenna said. “I knew he’d call.”
Ava glared up at her.
“I’ll let you take that.”
“I’m letting it go to voicemail.”
“Oh, don’t be that way.” Jenna walked to the door. “He’s probably on his way over here right now.”
“He’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know how this goes. My dad was just like this.”
“Don’t forget to tell him about the shoeprints.”
Jenna walked out, leaving Ava to stare at her phone. Finally, she picked up.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
Her heart sank at the regret in his voice.
“I hate to do this,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it.” She got up and locked the door behind Jenna.
“Something came up, and I can’t get away.”
“Not a problem.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I understand. Really. You’re tied up.”
He went quiet on the other end of the line, and she let the silence hang there awkwardly.
“You’re mad,” he said.
She hadn’t been. But him saying she was mad completely pissed her off.
“Ava?”
“I’m not mad. I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
She battled the urge to throw her phone against the wall.
“Can we take a rain check?” he asked.
“No.”
“No?”
“Grant . . . let’s not do this, okay? You’re busy, I’m busy. Both of us have a lot going on with our jobs, and I think we should let this go.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ll see you around, all right?”
“Ava—”
“Goodbye.”
* * *
* * *
Grant stared down at his phone. Fuck.
Now what? What he needed to do was hightail it over there and talk to her in person, but he couldn’t get away and by the time he could she’d probably be dug in and refuse to talk to him. It sounded like she already was dug in.
He should have called earlier, before she’d had a chance to cook and probably get her house ready. But he’d been focused on a lead and time had gotten away from him.
His phone lit up with a call, but it wasn’t Ava.
“I’m here,” Connor told him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Hang tight. He just showed up, and I’m about to go in there.”
“You think he’ll talk to you?”
“I don’t know. Keep your phone on. I may need a hand.”
“Roger that.”
Grant ended the call and slid from his truck. He and Connor were in their personal vehicles tonight to keep a low profile. Grant crossed the parking lot, eyeing the gray Chevy as he approached the entrance. The door opened and a pair of women stepped out. One staggered slightly and smiled at Grant as he caught the door and held it open.
“Thanks,” she said, leaning on her friend.
Grant looked at the other woman as she rolled her eyes.
“She okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m driving.”
Grant watched them cross the lot. The friend seemed fine, so Grant let it go and stepped into the bar.
The Cattleguard was just as dark and dingy as Grant remembered. Same neon signs, same outdated jukebox. The TV above the bar looked new, but that was about it. The place wasn’t much to look at, but they had cheap drafts and did a steady business with ranch hands, river guides, and travelers on a shoestring budget.
Grant spotted the guy at the bar. Long hair, goatee, trucker cap. Grant walked over and leaned a hand on the bar as the man picked up his beer.
“Trent Gilchrist?”
He stopped mid-sip. “Yeah?”
Grant shifted so the badge on his hip was visible. “Grant Wycoff, Henley County Sheriff’s Office. You got a minute to talk?”
“What, you mean here?”
“We could go to my office if you prefer.”
He darted a look at the bartender, who was pretending not to eavesdrop. Then he looked at Grant.
“Here is fine.”
“Let’s go outside.” Grant nodded toward the door leading to the patio in back.
“Okay.” He caught the bartender’s eye. “Hey, keep my tab open, will you?”
“Sure. Anything for you?”
“Just a water,” Grant said.
The bartender filled a glass and passed it across the bar, and Grant followed Trent Gilchrist to the beer garden out back. Swags of white lights hung between the ramshackle building and a giant oak tree in the middle, and picnic tables were scattered beneath. It wasn’t crowded, but Gilchrist led him to a table in the shadowy corner where they wouldn’t be noticed. He was feeling shy, apparently. Grant often had that effect on people.
Grant took the seat with his back to the fence so he could face the patio and keep an eye on the door.
Gilchrist sat down opposite Grant. He had the tanned skin and the sinewy forearms of a seasoned river guide.
“What’s this about?” he asked Grant.
“Molly Shaw.”
He heaved a sigh looked down at his beer.
“You don’t look surprised,” Grant said.
“I’m not, really. I saw what happened on the news.” His brow furrowed as he looked at Grant. “You’re talking to people who knew her?”
“I hear you two dated a while back.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t say ‘dated’ really.”
“No?”
“Who told you that?”
“One of Molly’s friends.”
He didn’t want to give him Skye’s name and run the risk of her getting any blowback. Investigators wouldn’t even know about Skye—or Trent Gilchrist, for that matter—if it weren’t for Ava, and it irked Grant that he was using this lead. But he needed every lead he could get with this case, even if it came from a civilian who shouldn’t be involved.
“We hung out,” he said. “It wasn’t anything serious.”
“Was it a sexual relationship?”
He hesitated a beat. “Yeah.”
“When did it start?”
He glanced at the sky, as if trying to remember. “I don’t know. Like, not long after she moved here?”
“And how’d you meet?”
“Through friends.”
“Who?” Grant had this already from Skye, but he wanted to establish a baseline with this guy.
“Some of the other guides I hang out with.”
“Okay.”
“It didn’t last very long,” he added.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. It fizzled.”
“Why?”
He sipped his beer, then put the glass down and stared at it a moment before making eye contact. “Molly was kind of a roller coaster. You probably know that already if you talked to her friends. She came out here after her divorce and she was pretty depressed.”
