She hadn’t been here before. She hadn’t even known her sister’s new address until Flo Middleton, Mackenzie’s neighbor, had called.
For two years, her sister had lived on this street, in this building, and Kori hadn’t known where to find her. She hadn’ttriedto find her. She’d told herself she didn’t care.
Her sister had betrayed her. Even after Kori had given up her own dreams to help support Mackenzie following the death of their parents, she’d gotten no loyalty in return. Kori had turned down a job offer across the country because she thought her sister needed her to be close. Big mistake.
Kori had vowed to never come back to this town where she’d been blindsided by betrayal. Of course, none of those things seemed important now that her sister was missing.
Regret clawed up her throat. If something happened to Mackenzie . . . their estrangement would be the last thing between them.
She climbed out of her Lexus before she could think about all that any longer.
Wyatt was already on the sidewalk waiting for her, his dog at his side.
She quickly observed the ranger as she approached.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, with short brown hair and a light stubble along his square jaw. He had the build of someone whose fitness came from actual work rather than a gym—broad through the shoulders and steady in the way he moved.
The name Wyatt fit him. He wasn’t someone who lived in a conference room or who treasured a city skyline. That name belonged to a man who knew which way was north without checking his phone.
There was something very intriguing about him. He was different from the men she worked with back in DC, men who were all about making connections and getting ahead. Men who thought their net worth defined their self-worth.
She pushed the thought aside as she joined him. “It’s the one over there. Her neighbor is the one who called me. She should have a key.”
“Then let’s go.”
Flo Middleton lived on the first floor, and her door opened before they reached it, almost as if she’d been listening for footsteps. The octogenarian was small with white hair, and she wore a pale pink cardigan.
Her eyes went immediately to Thunder, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my. Aren’t you something? Such a beautiful creature.”
The dog was beautiful with its chocolate and black fur and amber-colored eyes.
If only Kori liked dogs . . .
But it wasn’t that she didn’tlikethem.
They terrified her.
Thunder sat and stared at Flo with an expression that suggested he could be trusted—and treats were always welcome.
Flo looked up at Wyatt, then at Kori, and her expression softened. “You must be Kori. I’d know you anywhere—Mackenzie talked about you.”
Kori absorbed that information, trying not to react. She’d figured her sister would have written her off. Pretended like she didn’t exist. Knowing that her sister had talked about her to her neighbor made her heart twist with pain.
“That’s right. I’m Kori, and this is Ranger Wyatt King. Thank you for calling me.”
“Of course. I knew something was wrong when Mackenzie didn’t check in. She always told me I should call you if anything happened.”
Wyatt stepped closer. “When did you last see her?”
“Five days ago. Saturday morning.” Flo’s voice was shaky but careful. “She brought me a muffin from that bakery on Church Street before she left.”
“Did anything seem off about her?”
“No, she was her usual cheerful self.”
Kori paused.
Cheerful wasn’t a word she’d ever associated with Mackenzie.
