A chill enters the cab of the truck, putting space between us. “I told you; I have family there.”
“Myrtle?” he asks, incredulous. “Myrtle Corbin is your family?”
“Is that a problem?” I can’t miss the layer of disappointment under his tone.
He shakes his head. “No. No, of course not. She just never said she had family, is all.”
But I lean closer to the door as we cross through the town and carry on to Aunt Myrtle’s place. The sun lowers itself in the sky, as if it is racing us to our destination. My companion is suddenly quiet, almost sullen.
When I see the familiar rustic green-and-red sign that readsMOTELin block letters come into view—neon bright in the dull evening—I grin with relief and roll my window down. Above it, a tree-shaped sign is painted withBALSAM MOTOR INN. A crescent of cozy cabins with low gable roofs, painted brackets, and tea-dark, live-edge siding are set against a thick backdrop of fir trees, a sweet, Christmassy smell dusting the air. At one end, an A-frame rises to an impossible pitch under a dark metal roof like the point of a witch’s hat. Sleepy windows checker the front, their planter boxes crawling with ivy, and a farmhouse door shadowed with glass reveals a darkened interior. Two brightly painted signs hang over it, one readingOFFICE, the otherCAFÉ. I feel like we’ve stumbled into a rundown elven village somewhere in the Bavarian Alps, the pops of green, red, and yellow reminiscent of carnivorous plants.
Regis pulls up in front but leaves the motor running. “This is it,” he says, a knowing cut to his jaw.
I open the door to get out. “Thank you,” I tell him. “For everything.”
“Glad I could help.” He nods. “Will I see you again?” he asks sharply as I close the door.
I lean against the open window. “You know where to find me.”
His eyes linger over me. “Stay out of trouble.” It is authoritative,a command, and also worried, a request. I wonder what trouble I could possibly find out here in the middle of nowhere. Then he pulls away, vanishing into the night.
I make my way to the door of the A-frame but find it locked. Knocking loudly, I step back, hoping she is here. Anyone, really. This is my only hope.
Inside, I see a series of small lights turn on in succession. When the door opens with a tinkle, a tall woman answers with silver-streaked hair dripping over one shoulder in a long plait. Her face is rounder than I remember, her eyes a touch more sunken but just as bright, with full cheeks beneath them and a curling smile. “Dinner was at five. We’re closed now. No vacancy, dear. See the sign?”
She points, and I turn and realize that the lit sign does indeed readNO VACANCY. Only, theNOkeeps flickering on and off.
“Blasted sign,” she grumbles. “Try the Gooseneck, in town. They might have a room yet.” She starts to close the door.
I whip out a hand to hold it open, and her eyes flick to mine, troubled. “Aunt Myrtle?” I ask. “Myrtle Corbin?”
Her face falls, contorts, rearranges itself into a whisper of recognition. “Piers?Lily’s girl?”
The sudden relief hits me with such force I can scarcely stand. I lean against the doorframe. My shoulders tremble and the tears flow as I dash them away. “I have nowhere else to go,” I whisper.
Without hesitation, she pulls the door wide. “I knew you’d show up someday,” she says, motioning me inside. “Come in, child. You’re home now.”
7Reyes
Women don’t go missing from houses like this.Investigator Reyes put the patrol car in park and studied the house, his partner still on a call. A new colonial designed to look old—white siding and black shutters bathed in the late afternoon sun, a wide front porch with rattan ceiling fans and topiaries flanking the leaded glass door, a sculpted lawn bordered by trees. This had to be over an acre of land. The property oozed charm and money. There wasn’t a leaf or splinter out of place. They were deep in the suburbs here, almost out of them entirely, but the idea of Charleston clung like an old perfume. They had brought the city with them.
A black Jaguar sat in the drive. It looked expensive, the spare tire installed on the front driver’s side sticking out like a sore thumb.
His partner hung up. “This the place?”
“Looks like it,” Reyes said.
He glanced at his partner. Will was old South Carolina stock, born and raised the same way his parents and their parents were. But he was a solid partner, a family man with a nose for the job and the loyalty of a spaniel. Reyes, on the other hand, was a transplant, the only son of a single mother from California who landed here after fleeing a bad relationship. He was younger than Will but he’d seen a thing or two growing up. He’d learned to keep his eyes open. And he was naturally suspicious. He balanced out his partner’s tendency to draw the most obvious conclusions, and Will kept him from diving down every dead-end rabbit hole. They’dbeen together two years now, and Reyes valued Will’s input. Their partnership had gotten off to a rocky start, Will deeming his need to question everything as obsessive and Reyes believing his partner’s laid-back approach was lazy, but that had changed when a routine traffic stop turned out to be drug-related. Reyes had sensed the driver’s hostility, somehow knowing a gun was there before they got a visual; his suspicion saved Will’s life. But it was Will who’d talked the man down, making it possible for Reyes to overpower him and make the arrest. Will was the true hero.
Since then, Will Poole had become the big brother Reyes longed for growing up, an older male influence he could actually trust. The men Reyes had known as a boy were far from trustworthy; they were downright dangerous. And he’d been gifted with an older sister instead of a brother. He loved Lucia, thanked God she was alive and well every day, but she’d put them through hell for a time, following in their mother’s early footsteps despite the pain it had caused. Their mother had been desperate when she’d moved in with the tall man, caring for two young children on her own. Reyes could forgive her for not knowing what he was until it was too late. But Lucia should have known better. Instead of schooling her, it had twisted her idea of love, leaving her vulnerable to a man like Jace, a man who had nearly killed her.
Will pulled a face. “Ten bucks says she left him for her trainer and is halfway to Acapulco.”
Reyes grinned. “Let’s hear him out just the same.”
“What is it you always say, Emil? A call is a call is a call?” Will asked with a good-natured laugh before swinging open the car door.
Reyes hung back, staring up at the house. The windows were so clean they practically disappeared. The whole place gave him an uncomfortable feeling, like it was smiling with a bullet behind its teeth. He had a hunch this one wouldn’t be as cut-and-dried as his partner thought. His mother had always attributed these hunches to God.Sussuros del cielo,she called them—whispers from heaven.After the things he’d seen, the things his family hadendured, Reyes wasn’t sure he believed in God, not the way his mother and sister did. But he believed insomething,and right now that something was warning him to be on his guard.
