Her first call was to summon the CSI folks. Children’s Services was next.

  With the necessary balls rolling, Tara caught up with Deke and Jacob on the back porch. After finding the money, she had decided it might be better not to contaminate what was clearly a crime scene any further. Deke had grabbed a bag of chips and a bottle of water for Jacob and taken him out back. The two were seated at a ramshackle picnic table. Jelly Bug danced around the table as if keeping them entertained or hoping for a dropped chip.

  Jacob looked up at her expectantly. “Did you find any clues?”

  Not the sort she’d hoped for.

  “Nothing that gives us any answers,” she evaded. She settled on the bench on Jacob’s side of the table. “Look, you know that as a deputy I have to play by certain rules when I’m investigating a case.”

  The boy stared at her without flinching, but the resignation in his eyes told her he understood what was coming.

  “Tara.”

  She shot a look at Deke. He, of all people, realized she had no choice. And he sure as hell had no right to call her by her first name at a time like this.

  “Until we figure out where your parents are and bring them back home,” she said to Jacob, ignoring the man now glaring at her, “you need a safe place to stay.”

  His small face fell from vaguely hopeful to defeat. “I’m big enough to take care of myself. I know how to make my sandwiches and...and tuck myself in at night.”

  Tara smiled but it hurt to do it. “You are really smart and very reliable. Mr. D tells me you’re a great student, but there are rules. You have rules in school, right? So you understand that when we have rules, we have to follow them.”

  He nodded, a jerky motion.

  “Ms. Carter from Children’s Services is coming to pick you up. She’ll take you to a home where you’ll be safe until your parents are back.” The tears that welled in his eyes ripped at Tara’s gut. “The really good news is I think you know the home you’ll be staying at. Ms. Wright, the nurse at your school, wants you to stay with her family until we sort this out.”

  He blinked back the tears. “I like Ms. Wright. Her son is in kindergarten. I know him too.” The crestfallen expression returned. “But what about Jelly Bug?”

  Tara nodded. “Ms. Wright said Jelly Bug can come too. Why don’t we pack a bag for you to take on your adventure at Ms. Wright’s house?”

  “Okay!” Jacob scooted off the bench. “Come on, Jelly Bug, we gotta pack.” He and his dog hustled into the house.

  Tara prepared to follow him, but Deke waylaid her, his hand on her arm again. Tara rode out the reaction she couldn’t seem to quell even after all this time.

  “Thanks for making this as easy as it can be.”

  The sincerity in his eyes tugged at her. How many times had she seen those blue eyes in her dreams? No matter how hard she’d evicted thoughts of him, they just kept coming back anyway. Six damned months was a long time for a pointless yet insistent need to hang on.

  “Just doing my job.” She turned back to the door, but he held on tighter.

  “I’m the last person you want to talk to, I get that.” He dropped his hand as if suddenly realizing he shouldn’t be touching her. “But I don’t see why we can’t be friends. Particularly at a time like this.”

  She shook her head, shifted her gaze away from his. “I don’t know what you mean. Of course, we’re friends.”

  Before he could argue with her statement, she hurried after Jacob.

  After pajamas and a week’s worth of clothes were selected, along with kibble for Jelly Bug, they went outside to meet Ms. Carter. She was young with two kids of her own, and she seemed to really connect with her clients. By the time she loaded Jacob and his dog into her SUV, he was smiling and appeared okay with the situation.

  Kids were amazing.

  Deep inside, where Tara never allowed anyone else to see, pain twisted. She set her senses to ignore and focused on work. Work never let her down.

  Thankfully, the CSI team arrived, preventing too much time alone with Deke.

  Being alone with Deke was not safe.

  Once she’d filled in the two-person team, she walked to the street where Deke leaned against his truck.

  “Thanks for calling me,” she said. “We’ll take it from here.”

  He gave a single resolute nod. “That’s my cue to go, I guess.”

  She gestured to the CSI van. “They’ll be pulling out the crime-scene tape any time now. Even I won’t be allowed back inside until they’re finished.” The last part might be an overstatement, but she needed him gone. “There’s really no reason for you to stay at this point.”

  He straightened away from the truck. “Well, it was good to see you—the circumstances notwithstanding.” He shook his head, laughed softly. “It’s funny. As small as the Hollow is, you’d think we’d run into each other more often.”

  “You’re busy,” Tara offered. “I’m busy. Time gets away.” Not to mention she made it a point to avoid him as much as possible.

  “Guess so.” He wasn’t convinced. She was lying and he knew it.

  Guilt pinged her. “If you would, keep a close eye on him at school and let me know if you notice any uncharacteristic behavior.”

  “You know I will.”

  She did. “Thanks.”

  He opened the driver’s door but hesitated before getting in so that he could hold her gaze a beat longer. “Maybe one of these days you’ll spell it out for me.”

  She frowned. “Spell what out?” The words were out of her mouth before her brain assimilated what he meant.

  “What happened to us.” He shrugged. “I thought we were really good together.”

  For three endless seconds, she couldn’t speak. What the hell? Tara Norwood was a cop. She’d made it through the training. She’d dealt with some sick criminals before transferring to the Hollow. As a twelve-year-old, she’d watched her mother bleed to death while trapped by her seat belt in a vehicle hanging upside down on the edge of a cliff. Three and a half years ago, she’d gone through another kind of hell when her marriage fell apart. Now she was holding up under her father’s ailing health, understanding that when he was gone she would be alone.

  She was damned strong.

  Yet this man...a man she’d walked away from six months and fifteen days ago...had the power to make her want to fall into his arms and cry like a baby.

  Damn him.

  She braced herself. Kicked aside all those weak emotions. “What did you expect? That we’d move in together? A marriage proposal?” She laughed, couldn’t help herself. “That we’d live happily ever after.” She shook her head. “I thought I made myself clear. I’ve been down that road. I didn’t like the trip, and I don’t intend to ever take it again. Is that clear enough?”

  She didn’t hang around for his response. Mostly because she couldn’t bear the hurt in his eyes.

  Hurt she had caused.

  Main Street, 7:30 p.m.

  THE DINER WAS packed when Tara arrived. She’d checked with Carter, and Jacob and Jelly Bug were safely ensconced at Brenda Wright’s house. Then Tara had come to the diner to talk to Jacob’s mom’s employer. Every table and booth was filled. No problem. She took the only vacant stool at the counter and waited for Delilah to cruise past.

  Collin had spoken to the manager and the shift leader at the hatchery. Jeff Callaway had given no indication there was trouble in his life. He’d come to work on Friday, on time like always, and they hadn’t seen him since. His cell, as did Krissy’s, went straight to voice mail now.

  An unanswered cell phone was never a positive sign. Not when a young couple had a kid.

  Delilah Merkle skidded to a stop, noticing Tara in the crowd along the counter. “Hey.” She made a face. “You look like this isn’t about dinner.”

  During an investigation, Tara never could keep the worry off her face—especially when a child was involved. “Unfortunately, it’s not. You’re really busy, but we need to talk.”

  Without hesitation, Delilah motioned for Tara to follow her. Tara kept pace with her along the length of the counter, then cut through at the end and followed her into the space where the magic happened, weaving through the throng of employees in the kitchen. Delilah opened the door to her office, waited for Tara to come inside and then closed the door.

  Delilah was the only person Tara knew whose office was always perfectly organized no matter what was going on.

  “What’s up? The look on your face has me worried.” Delilah plopped into the well-worn chair behind her desk, a testament of how exhausted she most certainly was. “Is your dad okay?”

  “My dad’s good. No new declines.” Tara took a breath and launched into what had to be said. “Krissy Callaway.” She hesitated to catch Delilah’s reaction prior to sharing the situation.

  The long-time diner owner-operator rolled her eyes. “I swear, you’d think I would learn.” She threw up her arms. “I hire someone, and they turn out to be great! Always on time. Hardworking. Good with the customers.” She shook her head. “I get all happy and certain I have myself a long-term good employee, and what happens? One day they just don’t show up. Poof. She really put me in a bind.” She gestured to the door behind Tara. “As you can see we’re overwhelmed.”

  There was no easy way to do this. “We have reason to believe she’s gone missing under suspicious circumstances.”

  Delilah’s frustration faded. “Missing? Are you serious?”

  Tara nodded. “She was last seen on Sunday evening around six o’clock, according to her son.”

  Delilah leaned forward. “What about her husband? Jeff?”

  “He’s missing also.”

  “Oh, my God.” Her hands went to her face, cradling her cheeks. “What on earth happened?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Tara admitted. “Had Krissy mentioned any concerns or issues in her personal life? Maybe with her husband or their finances?”

  Delilah shook her head with enthusiasm. “They’ve been doing well. Last year they went through a rough patch financially related to her cancer treatments. Breast cancer,” Delilah explained. “But life has been good for them since. She’s been as happy as a clam. I haven’t heard the first peep about issues.”

  Tara managed to repress a flinch at the mention of cancer. “No trouble with her husband?”

  “No. They are best friends. Have been since high school. He’s always doing sweet things for her. He had the sweetest bouquet and box of chocolates delivered here on Valentine’s Day.”

  Tara thought about the money she’d found under their bed. “You’re sure there were no money issues?”

  Delilah shrugged. “Not that she mentioned. They were even talking about taking Jacob on a big surprise vacation this summer.” Delilah narrowed her gaze and nodded. “During her recovery, Krissy said they had filled out all these forms for help from private donors. I’m thinking someone came through in a big way.”

  “Did she mention any friends of hers or her husband? Maybe out-of-town friends? Someone who visited recently?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Was there anyone here at the diner who socialized with her outside of work? Maybe someone who might have been closer to her?”

  Delilah considered the question for a bit. “No one in particular, I don’t think. Of course, you’re welcome to talk to any of my employees.”

  “I appreciate that. The sooner we can figure this out, the sooner we can find Krissy and Jeff. Hopefully safe.”

  “Look.” She shot to her feet. “I’ll go out there and relieve them one at a time so they can come talk to you. Will that work?”

  “That would be great.”

  “On it.” Delilah rushed around the desk and out the door.

  That was one of the things that had brought Tara back to the Hollow. People watched out for each other. People cared. She’d wanted to raise her family here.

  Except the family hadn’t happened.

  She pushed the memory away and prepared for the questions she would need to ask.

  One by one, she interviewed the six employees at the diner tonight. They all told the same story. Krissy and Jeff Callaway were very happy. They were a great couple. Hard workers. Good people. Loved their son.

  On the way home, Tara checked in with Collin. He’d learned basically the same thing at the hatchery. Both the manager and the shift leader spoke highly of Jeff Callaway. His sudden absence was totally unexpected. He’d been a good employee.

  Except for the $50K, Tara mused. All that money hidden in a shoebox under the bed set off all sorts of warning bells.

  It was nearly ten by the time Tara rolled up to her childhood home. Her headlights flashed over an unexpected vehicle. Truck. Deke’s truck.

  Tara parked and turned off the engine. For a moment, she didn’t move to get out. She had no energy left for this. All she wanted right now was a long hot shower and a good night’s sleep.

  If she didn’t get out, he would just come over and knock on her window. She climbed out, shut the door and walked toward him. He waited on her porch steps. How long had he been sitting there?

  “It’s late,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”

  He stood. “Any news?”

  He asked this as if she hadn’t just given him two perfectly acceptable reasons to climb into his truck and leave.

  “Nothing yet.” She walked past him and shoved the key into the door lock and twisted. Reached inside and flipped on the porch light. The last thing she wanted was to be in the dark with Deke Shepherd.

  “I checked on Jacob a couple hours ago,” he said. “He’s doing fine for now.”

  Tara turned back to him, her back to her open door. She would not—could not—let him inside. “Thanks for letting me know. Like I said, I’m beat.”

  Go. Just please go.

  “Should we be worried about Jacob? Is he safe without police protection?”

  “At this time, we can’t be sure of anything.” She had spoken to Brenda Wright about keeping a really close eye on him. She wasn’t to allow him outside without supervision. If there was something going on with the parents that was related to the money, Jacob could become a pawn in the game. “Sheriff Decker will be reviewing the situation and making any necessary decisions early tomorrow. The truth is, until we have more information and some sort of evidence, all we know for sure is that the Callaways abandoned their son. Based on Jacob’s statement, there’s reason to believe their disappearance was under suspicious circumstances. We’ll put their photos on the news and on social media. We’ll issue BOLOs. Send the info out far and wide to other jurisdictions and hope someone somewhere has seen them. That’s really all we can do at this point.”

  “How are you doing?”

  She wanted to tell him again that it was late and she was tired, but she knew Deke. He wasn’t going anywhere until she forced the issue or he was satisfied with whatever it was he wanted or needed.

  “I’m fine. Tired but fine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tara took a mental swipe at the exhaustion in hopes of better analyzing his statement. “Sorry for what?”

  “I’m sorry for...” He looked away briefly before setting those piercing blue eyes on hers once more. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be or do or say whatever you needed. I’m just sorry.”

  She couldn’t take this. Not right now.

  “Deke.” She held up her hands in a stop-sign fashion. “We don’t need to do this.” Not again. Not now. She was too tired. Too weak.

  He shook his head. “No. You’re wrong. I made a mistake six months ago, and I’m not going to keep pretending I’m okay with it.” He laughed, a hollow sound. “No matter that I don’t have a clue what I did or failed to do, I want to make it right.”

  Tara closed her eyes a moment before opening them once more and looking him straight in the eye. “Just say what you have to say and get it over with.”

  “The one thing I did that I wish I hadn’t...” He looked away for a moment. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have helped you face whatever it is you’re running from. I should have done something to fix whatever was wrong.”

  Good grief. She should just tell him—she wasn’t fixable.

  But she couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

  “Good night, Deke.”

  She turned her back and escaped into the house. Closed and locked the door and leaned against it, listening to ensure he left.

  Deke didn’t get it. The thing she was running from was him.

  Chapter Five

  Dread Hollow School

  Thursday, May 4, 10:30 a.m.

  Deke watched his students through the window in the classroom door. Music was a favorite subject for all fifteen students, especially Jacob. His enthusiasm for music, for school in general, was contagious. He had a way of prompting the same from his classmates.

  Brenda Wright had caught Deke at the school mail station first thing this morning to tell him about Jacob’s nightmares. He’d awakened at two this morning crying out for help. He’d sobbed and shared the painful dream with her. The bad men who’d taken his parents had come back for him. He’d felt torn between wanting to go with them in hopes of seeing his parents and wanting to run for his life in fear.

  No child should suffer that level of anxiety.

  But in true Jacob form, he’d appeared all smiles in the classroom. Talking and smiling. Deke had struggled with the urge to hug the kid, but the other students wouldn’t have understood. Sharing his story with his classmates was something Jacob hadn’t done so far.

  Deke watched him now, circling around as the group sang the alligator song. Jacob got along with everyone. Interacted well with the entire class. He didn’t appear to have a specific or best friend. Just played with anyone who wanted to play.