“They’re not here now,” he murmured. If the dog didn’t know her owners were gone, this wouldn’t be the homecoming she wanted.
Sure enough, when they got to the place, he opened the truck door, and she jumped out and raced up to the front porch. She started to whine, then jumped up on the door, which creaked open. It was a single-story log-cabin-style home with a couple bedrooms off the back. He walked in to see just the barest of furnishings and no obvious signs of anybody having lived here in several weeks.
Shambhala raced through the cabin, whining and barking, obviously searching for her family.
Weston leaned against the door, hating to see her anxiety and her sense of loss, but it was better if she got used to this now.
She came back, looking for them still, then darted out the front door and headed to the fields. Weston followed, giving her a chance to check out everything she could because that was the only way for her to come to terms with it.
Finally, after twenty minutes of checking all her favorite spots and the places she expected to find her family, Shambhala came back with her tail down. The look in her good eye when she stared at Weston almost broke his heart. He hopped down so he was sitting on the small deck and reached out a hand to gently scratch the back of her head and to hold her.
“They would have come back if they could have,” he murmured, “but they couldn’t.”
Shambhala didn’t seem to understand what he said, but then why would she? He didn’t even understand the truth of all this. He only knew what the detective had told him. And, in his heart of hearts, he hoped it was as simple as that, but he wasn’t so sure it would be.
With Shambhala at his side, they did a search of the house, garage and another outbuilding, then walked through the fields. In the six weeks the family hadn’t been here, nature was already taking over. Weeds were everywhere, and, if vegetables had been planted here, they were quickly being incorporated back into the landscape.
Weston found no tractor equipment, no vehicles, just whatever had been here at the time they died. And, for that reason alone, he figured Shambhala must have been in the vehicle at the same time when the Buckmans died. He collected the dog dishes, the couple toys he saw and a collar and leash hanging off the door. He put them on her then headed toward the rental truck, whistling for her. She was still racing around but finally stopped, looked around one last time and ran to him. He opened the driver’s side door; she hopped in and moved over to the passenger side.
“At least we got that done. I’m sorry it wasn’t better news.”
He drove out farther, looking for the location where the slide occurred, wanting to see where the accident had been.
As they got close, the dog started to growl. Finding that reaction odd, Weston pulled off to the side of the road, and, slipping the leash on her neck to keep track of her, he hopped out.
It was a little farther down, maybe another fifty yards, but he stopped because it was obvious parts of a rockslide and a vehicle had been crushed underneath the rocks. Part of it had been removed but part of it was still wedged under some rocks. The dog started to whine.
“I know, Shambhala, but it’s too late for them.” He knew no bodies were left in the vehicle, and they were back in the morgue or had already been buried by now. He studied the marks on the road, wondering if it really had been an accident. He hated to think it was anything other than that, but it was just way too possible. And, with a final look, he called Shambhala. “Come on, girl. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 6
Daniela headed to the grocery store. She admitted she’d stayed a little too long, watching Weston in the rental place, trying to figure out what it was about him that moved her so. Was it the connection she could see to her daughter? Because that could be a dangerous path. She’d been the one to push for a relationship, as little Sari had already suffered enough loss in her life.
But just something about the man himself made her breath catch in the back of her throat. Almost like a cord from her led to him, and she desperately wanted to stay attached, and that was even scarier. She and her husband had had a decent life, until he’d changed. She wasn’t sure if she should blame that change on his illness or the girlfriends she’d found out about, but it had changed her perspective. Having little Sari as part of her life had been a gift that she’d wanted forever, and she had been willing to put up with a lot in order to have it.
But, when she lost Charlie, she realized just how much compromise she’d made in order to have the perfect little family she thought she’d always wanted and needed. Her definition of family was changing now. It was just her and Sari, and yet Daniela knew Sari could definitely benefit from having her father in her life. Particularly now that Daniela realized he wasn’t a man who had intentionally walked away from his daughter.
She understood Weston’s need to have time to adjust, now that he knew about Sari. She imagined a man like that didn’t take betrayal easily. Hell, nobody did, nor should they. Betrayal was at the core of every failed relationship. People made choices on a day-to-day basis on whether they would be a good person or a shitty person.
When Charlie had gotten ill, he’d gone on this wild rampage of trying everything he thought he’d missed out on in his life, including
