“My father didn’t run away with Geneva Cherry, Mom.” She could see that this had been her mother’s fear for the past twenty-seven years.
Ruby began to cry. “You don’t know that. They both disappeared about the same time.”
McCall thought about the single grave. Wouldn’t the killer have buried them together? Maybe not. The pickup was still missing, and who knew what was inside it?
“Someone would have heard from them by now if they’d run away together,” she said, just for something to say.
Ruby shrugged.
“Was there anyone else?” McCall had to ask.
Her mother looked away. “Sandy.”
“Sandy?”
“After Geneva, Trace was dating Sandy Thompson. That’s when he and I got together.”
“Sandy Thompson Sheridan?” The sheriff’s wife? Her boss’s wife? McCall stared at her mother. “You stole Trace from her?”
“I didn’t steal him. You can’t steal men like candy from a grocery store. I was in love with Trace. I’d always loved him.”
“So all was fair in love and war,” McCall quipped. Her mother never ceased to amaze her. This explained a lot, she realized. The cold shoulder Sandy had always given her.
Grant and Sandy had gotten married right after high school and gone away to college together. Grant became a lawyer, Sandy a homemaker. When they’d returned to Whitehorse, Grant became county attorney. Sandy had gotten involved in social activities.
McCall closed her eyes, seeing things too clearly. “You seduced him.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted anything more than life itself?”
McCall hated that Luke Crawford instantly came to mind.
“That was how I felt about your father. I would have done anything to be with him.”
“Even get pregnant.” McCall opened her eyes. Hadn’t she long suspected this was the case?
Her mother’s face fell. “Yes. Now you know the truth. I got pregnant to take him away from Sandy and force him to marry me.”
So Pepper Winchester had been right.
Ruby was crying again. “I thought...” She stepped over to a chair and dropped into it, pulling her knees up to wrap her skinny arms around them, holding on as if for dear life. “I thought once we were a family, once you were born...” Her voice trailed off. She sniffed and McCall handed her a tissue from the box by the couch. “I guess I got what I deserved. The bad karma came back and bit me in the ass.”
“You didn’t deserve what you got,” McCall said, fearing the killer might not agree. “Let me understand this. Trace and Sandy didn’t break up until it came out about your pregnancy? How did Sandy take this news?”
Her mother mugged a face. “Sandy said Trace and I ruined her life but she seems to have survived just fine, lives in that big house up on the hill, married to the sheriff. Married him right after Trace broke up with her.”
McCall frowned, unnerved by the timing. How hurt and angry had Sandy been? Hurt and angry enough to take it out on Trace?
“Mom, isn’t it possible Sandy loved my father as much as you did?”
Ruby scoffed at that. “Trace was the love of my life. You haven’t seen me marry anyone else, have you? It sure didn’t take Sandy long to get over Trace, did it?”
Maybe that was because Trace was dead to her. Dead and buried.
Another thought struck McCall, one that sent a chill through her. Sandy had obviously married Grant on the rebound. He had to have realized that. Which brought up the question: how had Sheriff Grant Sheridan felt about Trace Winchester?
LUKE PARKED IN the shadows of the towering cottonwoods. As he got out, the breeze carried the scent of the new leaves that had just started coming out on the trees. They fluttered, making a sound like a whisper.
In the distance, a hawk let out a cry, and the forest paralleling the river fell silent. Twilight had settled into the cottonwoods. Through the thick bare branches, he could see the colors of the sunset deepening against the darkening sky.
It was early for poachers, but he’d noticed that this poaching ring seemed to be hitting at different times.
The quiet in the river bottom lulled him, his thoughts sneaking up on him as he walked along a fishing trail. There were times that he was at his most vulnerable, like now, and his thoughts turned to McCall.
She hadn’t changed much from the girl he’d fallen in love with. If anything she was more beautiful. And headstrong and independent and prickly as a porcupine. She’d done just fine for herself without any help from anyone.
What was crazy was that he believed in his heart that they belonged together. If it wasn’t for what had happened back when they were seniors in high school—
The sound of the rifle shot made him jump. The soft boom carried along the river bottom sending a flock of ducks rising up in a spray of water nearby.
He froze, listening, anticipating a second shot, hoping he would be able to determine which direction it had come from. The second shot came seconds later, followed by a quick third, then silence.
Luke took off running through the trees to where he’d parked his pickup. From his estimation, the shots had come from a quarter mile downriver.
At his pickup, he jumped behind the wheel and took off down the road, knowing they would hear him coming.
By now at least one of them should be up to his elbows in blood from gutting out the deer they’d shot. They would hear his pickup engine and have to decide whether to load up the deer or just make a run for it.
Either way, he would have them if their tire treads matched the plaster casts he’d made of their last three kills.
The poachers were getting more brazen, killing one deer after another even though they must know
