Forgotten Secrets (5 page)

Hospitals possessed that odd smell of illness and strange lighting that put most anyone on edge. The double doors of the twelve-bed facility swung closed behind Thayne and his father. They didn’t even pause at the main desk but veered to the right down one of the two hallways.

The Singing River sheriff pressed the phone to his ear. “You find anything, anything at all, I want to know.” He shoved the cell into his pocket and scowled at Thayne. “The only prints on the phone are Cheyenne’s. It’s like she just vanished into nothing.”

“Let me go, you old fool,” a voice cried out. “I’m late. I have to get to class. The kids are waiting.”

“Gram,” Thayne said, meeting his father’s startled gaze.

They hurried to room six and stood in the doorway. Gram might be small, but the fire in her eyes made Thayne smile with fondness, even as his heart broke. She sat on the side of the bed, trying to get up. His six-foot-one, burly grandfather stood beside her, eyes resigned—and pained all the way down deep to his soul.

“Helen, honey.” Retired Sheriff Lincoln Blackwood leaned over her, pressing her gently back to the bed. Gram shifted, avoiding his touch. Pops lowered his arms. “You’re retired, sweetheart. No class today.”

Gram shook her head, staring at the hospital room floor. “You’re lying to me. Why are you lying?”

The words saddened Thayne. She hadn’t taught school for fifteen years. The first time he’d witnessed her living her past—right after he’d come home—he hadn’t known what to say or how to act. He’d learned quickly that Alzheimer’s leaves no prisoners, and he could do nothing but surrender to the moment.

“She woke up about two this morning and won’t go back to sleep,” Pops said.

Thayne crossed the room and smiled. “Gram, are you feeling better? That bandage on your head is quite the fashion statement.”

Her hand touched the dressing on her scalp, and she winced. Her sharp eyes shifted to Thayne, and her eyes widened. “Lincoln? It’s about time you got here. Get this old geezer out of here.” She tilted her head toward Pops and lowered her voice. “He’s trying to keep me here. I want to go home.”

Those pleading words tugged at Thayne’s soul. He hadn’t realized he looked so much like his grandfather when he was young, not until Cheyenne had found a carousel of old slides. Thayne sat on the edge of the bed next to his grandmother and took one of her hands in his. Her pulse raced under his fingertips, and he cupped her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know him,” she whispered, glancing at Pops. “I’m sorry I was mean. He looks nice enough, but . . . I don’t know him.” She clutched Thayne’s hand with a grip that belied her eighty years. “I’m scared, Lincoln. Something’s wrong with me.”

Thayne blinked back the burning behind his eyes and forced a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be OK. We’re here to take care of you.”

“Good. I like you, Lincoln. I might even marry you someday.” She pressed his hand to her cheek, closed her eyes, and leaned against him.

He circled his arm around her. God, he hated this disease.

Not much helped when Gram lost herself like this. Her anxiety skyrocketed. Lately, she’d taken to biting her nails and gritting her teeth when the world became too confusing. But they’d discovered one thing that did calm her. Gram responded to music.

Thayne ducked his head and hummed the opening of a familiar tune under his breath, rocking her back and forth.

He’d heard the song’s story a million times. Pops had surprised Gram for their twenty-fifth anniversary with a romantic picnic at the swimming hole on the edge of Blackwood Ranch. A warm summer night, a full moon, the water, and soft music in the background. “Could I Have This Dance” had played on their truck’s radio. Gram had said nothing was more romantic than dancing in the middle of nowhere, underneath the stars, with the man you loved. When Thayne had learned to waltz, Gram had used the same song to teach him.

Thayne sang the first verse under his breath, his baritone soft and soothing. Her breathing slowed a bit and she opened her eyes. They had cleared for the moment.

“Helen?” his grandfather asked, voice tentative.

Gram lifted her hand to her head to touch the bandage gingerly and looked at Pops with concerned eyes. “Lincoln, honey? What happened to my head? Did we have an accident? Am I at the hospital?”

Pops sat on the other side of Gram and clasped her hand in his. “You were hurt, Helen. At the clinic. Do you remember what happened last night?”

Gram bristled. “Well, of course I remember. I was taking little Cheyenne to dinner with her boyfriend. She’s going to marry him someday, you know.” Gram smiled, but confusion slid over her expression. “She wanted ice cream for dessert, I think. That little girl is going to turn into an ice-cream cone someday.”

“Honey,” Pops said. “Cheyenne’s grown up now. She’s a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Gram’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “No, no. That can’t be.”

Thayne patted his grandmother’s hand and stood up. He walked over to his father. He recognized the sorrow in his dad’s eyes. They were losing Gram a little every day. This time, though, panic laced his expression as well.

He grasped Thayne’s arm. “She doesn’t remember what happened to Cheyenne.”

Gram was the only witness, and Cheyenne’s life was at stake. Normally, they didn’t push when Gram didn’t remember. They just backed off. This time they couldn’t.

Thayne crossed the room and knelt in front of her. “Gram.”

She stared into his eyes, her own clear. “Thayne.” She patted his cheek.

“Pops took you to Cheyenne’s office last night. You were going to have dinner together while he played poker. Someone came in. They messed up the place. Do you remember?”

“I saw a triangle,” Gram whispered, running her fingers over Thayne’s military cut. “And red.” She shook her head. “Get that nurse back in here so I can leave. I have to get ready for school, Lincoln. I can’t be late.”

Thayne rose, kissed his grandmother’s cheek, and met his father’s gaze.

His grandfather patted her hand.

“I’m not letting you touch me, old man. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Thayne motioned to the nurse who hovered nearby. “Can you help them, Jan?”

“Of course.”

Thayne and his father crossed the hall and stepped into a vacant room. “It could be in her mind somewhere,” Thayne said. “Any idea what the triangle means? Or red?”

“No idea. We’ve never used a triangle brand on the ranch. It’s used in military maps, but I don’t know why she’d be aware of that. Maybe she’s back teaching trig in her head?”

“Red could be the blood.” Thayne stroked the stubble on his chin. “Maybe it’ll come to her. She still recalls some short-term details.”

“We can’t count on her memory, and today’s not a good day. The Alzheimer’s has her living more and more in the past. And with her getting knocked out, who knows if she’ll remember.” His father rubbed his temple. “We have no leads.”

Thayne studied his dad’s haggard face. Since his illness, he appeared ten years older than his fifty-six years, but Thayne couldn’t sugarcoat the truth. “I may not be a cop, but I don’t buy DCI’s knee-jerk theory of druggies on a spree. I think they’re justifying not showing up, but it doesn’t track. If all these guys wanted were drugs, they should have hurt or killed Cheyenne, not abducted her.”

“You’ve got cop instincts.” His father closed his shadowed eyes. “This reminds me a lot of the Gina Wallace case, son. And we never found her. I can’t let that happen to Cheyenne. I won’t.”

Thayne knew what he had to do. He knew someone who could help. Maybe the only person who could. As much as he hated that he couldn’t find his sister, he’d also learned early on in the SEALs to take advantage of each team member’s strengths. He slipped his phone from his pocket. “I have an idea.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Someone who sees leads in a crime scene no one else does.” Thayne said. “Riley Lambert.”

“Special Agent Lambert. Yes. She could help.” His father stroked his jaw. “You may not like hearing this, but after I found out you were calling her every week, I contacted a buddy at the FBI. I wanted his take on her.”

“You did what? I’m pushing thirty, not thirteen.”

His father just shrugged without a modicum of apology. “A man needs to keep informed. Did you know she graduated high school at fifteen and earned a law degree by the time she turned twenty? She’s on the fast track. He said she’s scary driven, takes to a case like a rottweiler to a bone. And she won’t give up. If you can get her to come, we could use her help.”

Thayne’s thumb paused over the screen. He hadn’t known, and that didn’t sit well, but it didn’t matter. Because one thing he did know about Riley, she gave everything she had to her job, to her mission. They had the rottweiler mentality in common. Hold on with all your might and never let go.

The rest . . . He’d ignore the feeling of unease settling at the base of his neck. He tapped the very familiar number into his phone. After all those conversations, all those lonely nights, he’d dreamed of seeing Riley face-to-face most every day for the last year. He’d just never thought it would be like this.

Riley couldn’t remember falling asleep. She chanced opening one eye.

The morning light seeping through the slats of the window’s shutters burned with the heat of a hot poker. She squeezed her eyes shut and shifted.

Her neck protested. She’d passed out on the couch.

With a groan, she moved her head. Something poked at her cheek. She lifted her right arm to brush away several small cardboard puzzle pieces stuck to her skin and winced. The bullet graze.

She stilled, letting the pain ease, before blinking several times so the room would come into focus. The coffee table was littered with a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle three-quarters finished and a half-empty shot glass. The puzzle pictured a bowl full of colored marbles, each piece unrelated to any other.

A lot like Madison’s case.

She eyed the three-quarters-full tequila bottle sitting on a small, empty spot of the oak table. She’d intended to make a bigger dent. She hadn’t even lasted long enough to make a respectable stab at getting drunk.

Riley groaned and squinted at the wall clock. A little after eight. She had no idea what time she’d finally succumbed to sleep. The way her skull pounded, not long enough.

She let her head fall back against the sofa pillow and threw her good arm over her eyes, blocking out the light. Not only was it Saturday, but she had nowhere to be for a week. Well, she might not have access to the federal databases, but she had other sources of information.

She’d learned a thing or two at the FBI. This week would give her the time to revisit her sister’s case from the beginning. Tom would never have to know.

A familiar buzz sounded, the vibration humming through the sofa cushions. OK, if she were paranoid, she’d wonder if Tom had read her mind.

No one else would call her this early . . . unless . . . She shoved her hand into the side of the couch, came upon what she hoped was stale popcorn, and after a few odd textures she didn’t want to think about, gripped the cool rectangle that was her phone.

She snagged it on the third ring and scooped it up.

The moment her eyes focused on the screen her heart did that crazy flip-flop she tried to ignore. “Thayne? You’ve broken our Friday night rule, but I’m really glad you—”

“Riley.”

His low voice sent a shiver, but not one of anticipation. She heard no seductive smile or teasing lilt behind Thayne’s voice, only a solemn timbre. Like nothing she’d heard before.

That horrible sense of foreboding she’d felt more times than she wanted to admit shuddered down her neck and across her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Thayne let out a long, slow breath.

Her breathing grew shallow. She could barely form the words. “Are you hurt?”

“I need your help. My sister’s been kidnapped.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Thayne searched the clear Wyoming sky south of the Singing River Municipal Airport for the Cessna Caravan carrying Riley. For the last ten hours, the entire town had turned up in an all-out effort to look for Cheyenne. Even the Rivertons had provided a plane. First to search, and a couple of hours ago to pick up Riley from Denver so she could arrive before dark.

Despite the hundreds of pairs of eyes here and in the surrounding counties, they were no better off now than they’d been this morning—except maybe checking off grids from the search area. They’d found no trace of Cheyenne since discovering her phone.

Thayne shielded his eyes, scanning the skies. A speck to the southeast appeared, growing larger by the second.

Riley.

After calling, he couldn’t stop wondering if he’d jumped ahead of himself. Each and every hour, he kept expecting they would find his sister or that she’d find a way to get in touch. Right now he was glad he hadn’t waited.

The buzz from the small plane’s prop grew louder. Finally, the Cessna landed on the single runway with a few bounces and taxied toward the hangar.

In a few moments, he’d see her for the first time since they’d parted at the Jackson Hole airport a year ago, with a vague promise to keep in touch. The kind of promise used to make a permanent good-bye less awkward.

Except five days later—Friday night at ten eastern time—Thayne had been cooling his heels in a hangar waiting to jump on a cargo plane to Afghanistan, and he’d called her. Just to check in that she’d made it home, he’d tried to convince himself. She’d picked up and made him laugh, but more than that, she’d given him someone to miss.

Somehow that first Friday night chat had turned into a standing date—if he could call, he would and did.

But now, even after countless phone calls, he had to admit, his nerves reminded him of the last few seconds on a Blackhawk before a big op.

Was she everything he remembered, everything he believed her to be? Without any evidence, could she really do more than what they were doing already? She possessed the skills, but Thayne knew a thing or two about unrealistic expectations . . . he’d lived with them his entire childhood.

He didn’t have to glance at his watch to know they were coming up on twenty-three hours since Cheyenne had disappeared.

Time was running out to find his sister alive.

The plane stopped, and he strode toward the aircraft. The pilot hit the ground to meet him.

“Thanks for doing this, Mac.” Thayne shook the burly man’s hand.

“Anything to help find Cheyenne,” he said. “That girl’s a gem.” He frowned and pulled a duffel and computer bag from the cargo hold beneath the plane. “You haven’t found her, I take it.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll top off the fuel and hit the skies again to join the search. Since we’ve got daylight until eight thirty or so this time of year, I can give it several more hours.”

“The whole family appreciates it. Let Brett Riverton know.”

“He’s got his own problems, but family feuds don’t mean much when one of our own is in trouble.”

The door of the Cessna opened. Riley jumped to the ground, her gaze pinned to Thayne. His mouth went dry. A year apart had been too damn long.

His deployment and her cases had kept them apart. Now she stood a few feet away from him, and his feet didn’t move. She unnerved him. Should he hug her like he wanted or let her make the first move? His mind whirled with an uncertainty he rarely experienced.

“Hope the ride was smooth enough, Special Agent Lambert,” Mac said.

“We arrived fifteen minutes early.” She shifted a satchel over her shoulder and smiled at the pilot. “The ride was perfect.” She took in a deep breath and turned. “Hello, Thayne.”

His name on her lips acted like a caress he couldn’t ignore. Thayne moved to her side, so close all he had to do was lean in and she’d be in his arms. He swallowed. For the last year, when he’d needed someone to vent at, to talk to, she’d been at the other end of the phone, her voice surrounding him.

He lifted his hand to brush his finger down her cheek. He hadn’t touched her in so long. Riley clasped his hand and squeezed, lifting her cinnamon gaze to his, full of sympathy.

“Riley,” he said, his voice strangely deep, even to his own ears.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry about your sister,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

Thayne closed his eyes and embraced her, enveloping her warm body in his arms. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her.

She tightened her hold, and he simply let himself feel for a moment, relinquishing the tight control he’d kept on his emotions. He didn’t know how long they stood together. All he knew was that she’d come.

Mac cleared his throat. “I guess introductions aren’t necessary.”

Riley stiffened and pulled away from Thayne, leaving a chill and jerking him back into reality.

Thayne grabbed her bags from Mac. “We’ve met.”

The pilot raised his eyebrow, eyes gleaming with speculation. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll radio in if I find anything, Thayne.”

“Thanks, Mac.”

He disappeared into the airport office.

Thayne stared at Riley. His heart tightened in his chest. “I didn’t think you’d be able to come. You’re in the middle of a big investigation. I thought perhaps you could put in a good word—”

“The case is finished. We got the guy. He’s dead. I was too late.”

Damn. Shorthand for a huge cluster. He could relate. How often had achieving the mission come with too high a price? He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but he recognized the set of her jaw, clinging to control. He forced himself not to sweep her into his arms. Instead he settled for “I won’t say congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

He wouldn’t push. Yet. Soon, she’d need to talk. He nodded toward his SUV. “Let’s go.”

After opening the door for her, he slid onto the seat beside her. The fog of anticipation for her arrival had dissipated, and he studied her closely, taking in details he hadn’t noticed during those first few seconds. She’d scraped her hair in a knot at the back of her head, outlining her hollowed cheeks. Over the last year, she’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose. Her eyes were bloodshot, but that wasn’t what startled him. The deep-seated circles under her eyes, the tightness of her lips, the tension stiffening her neck and back—she carried an edge to her that had nothing to do with determination or drive.

“You look like hell,” he blurted out.

“I’ll survive.” Riley turned in her seat to face him, expression solemn. “I need you to listen. I’ve been thinking nonstop on the flight here. I’ve never investigated a case that’s this personal. Except my sister.” She sucked in a deep breath. “If I’m going to help, I have to take a step back from you and our relationship. I don’t know of any other way to remain objective.”

The words punched Thayne in the chest. “This isn’t how I imagined our reunion would finally happen,” he said, frowning at her.

She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed tight. “I’ll do my best to help find your sister. I promise you that.”

“I know you will.” He cleared his throat. “I should brief you—”

She placed a finger against his lips. “Stop. I have my own methods. I don’t want to know anything about the kidnapping. Not yet. I need to see the crime scene first.”

“Won’t it help to go in with the maximum intel possible?”

“Expectations color my perception. I want to see every element with fresh eyes, no preconceived notions.”

So much time lost, though. His lips pursed.

“You look skeptical.”

“Every minute is precious. Cheyenne’s been in those bastards’ hands for an entire day.” He fought to keep his voice calm, when inside he wanted to punch out a wall.

She touched his shoulder, stroking him with the comforting warmth of her hand. Her caress soothed his burning anger, if only for a moment.

“You called me for a reason,” she said softly. “I investigate differently. Let me do my job, my way.”

“It’s just—”

“Your sister. I understand.”

What could he say? She
did
understand. Her personal investigation into her own sister’s abduction was the reason they’d met a year ago. Thayne started the engine and flipped on the sirens, speeding toward Singing River.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were stateside?” Riley asked softly. “Because that deputy’s uniform looks lived in for more than twenty-four hours.”

Thayne winced, knowing he had no excuse. “Two months ago, Dad came down with myocarditis, an infection in his heart. He’s recovering, but the doc in Casper ordered him to take a leave of absence from anything physically strenuous. I had a ton of leave built up that I had to use or lose, so I volunteered to wear a temporary badge and help take the pressure off the rest of the office.”

“Two months,” she said under her breath. “So that’s why you’ve been able to call every week and didn’t mention any missions. I assumed you were deep in classified ops.”

“I’d planned to tell you, but you’d just picked up that serial killer case—”

“Don’t put this on me.” Riley tilted her head to look at him, challenge written on her face. “What’s the real reason?”

He shoved a hand through his hair. All he could do was be honest. “I wanted to see you again, be with you, but I didn’t want to screw up a good thing,” he admitted. “As crazy as it sounds, long distance works for us. Hell, I haven’t had a relationship last for an entire year. Ever.”

“The worst part of listening to that load of BS is that I actually agree with you. So what does that say about us, Thayne?” She pulled out a blue notebook. “Don’t answer that. How about we acknowledge we both need therapy and move on.”

He couldn’t stop the short laugh that escaped from him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Her eyes softened and she looked as if she wanted to say something else, but then a cloak fell over her gaze. So familiar to him, so like the members of his SEAL team just prior to an op.

“Tell me about your sister.”

Riley had slipped into special agent mode. Someday he’d have to grovel long and hard for deceiving her, but she was right. Cheyenne came first. “I thought you didn’t want details.”

“Not about the crime scene, but I do want to know about your sister. It’s called victimology. If I understand her, it will help me profile who took her.”

“Right.” Thayne twisted his hands on the leather steering wheel, trying to rein in the ever-present fury. “Cheyenne’s the only girl in the family, second oldest. Probably more stubborn than any of us, maybe even more driven, but with a soft heart. She’d bring home every injured animal she could find on the ranch and nurse them back to health. Drove Dad and Mom crazy. I always thought she’d become a vet, but she changed her mind while she was in college. Said she wanted to come home—which I never understood—to help people, so she applied for a loan that she wouldn’t have to repay if she worked in a rural community. She laughed at that. Said they were paying her to do exactly what she wanted.”

“Did anyone not want her to come home?”

“The whole town celebrated. We were down to two physicians in the county once Doc Mallard keeled over after seeing patients all day. He was seventy-five.”

Thayne pulled into the parking space in front of his sister’s office. “Cheyenne’s been back eight months. She’s the one who called me about Dad. Told me to get my butt home so he wouldn’t do too much.”

“And here you are.”

He shrugged. “Family.”

Before exiting the SUV, Riley grabbed her satchel. She strode to the sidewalk and then stopped, scanning the surroundings, her gaze laser-focused, taking in everything, particularly the flurry of activity kitty-corner to their location. “Sheriff’s office within view. This took some guts—or desperation—to take the risk.”

She pulled a camera from her bag and snapped photos from every angle. She pointed to a pristine white SUV, the only vehicle in front of the building. “Is that your sister’s car?”

Thayne nodded. “We haven’t moved it. Nothing was inside.”

“No one noticed anything or anyone?”

“Friday night, just after five. Most of the shops on Main had already closed.” He briefly mentioned the black SUV. “None of the BOLOs have popped.”

Riley paused. “Did your sister have any enemies? Anyone she was afraid of?”

Thayne shook his head, realizing for the first time how little he actually knew about his sister’s private life. Of course, why would he? He’d left Singing River behind with no pretense of coming back. Holidays and the occasional leave didn’t make for an in-depth relationship. “Not that she mentioned to me. She’s closest to Hudson. They’re only a year apart.”

“I’ll want to talk to him later,” she said.

“Sure.” He paused in front of the door. Pendergrass had cordoned it off with yellow crime-scene tape. “Last week, she suspected someone had tried to get into the room where she keeps her drugs, but—”

“Stop.” Riley held up her hand. “No details, remember.” She opened her bag and snapped on protective gloves. “Who’s been inside since it happened?”

“More than a few,” Thayne admitted, opening the door. “I searched the place first, but my grandmother was hurt, and the paramedics worked on her. Since then, Deputy Pendergrass has processed the scene with help from a DCI investigator.” At her questioning gaze, he added, “Wyoming Division of Criminal Investigation. Among other things, they run the state crime lab.”

Riley froze with realization. “Your grandmother is a witness? Why didn’t you tell me? What does she say?”

“She doesn’t remember. Gram has Alzheimer’s disease.” He hated saying it out loud; somehow the words made it seem more real.

“Oh, Thayne. I’m so sorry.” She reached for his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Gram doesn’t want anyone outside the family to know,” Thayne said, searching for the words to explain. “She doesn’t want anyone to look at her differently. I guess that’s why I don’t say anything unless I have to.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes for a brief second before she straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know anyone with Alzheimer’s. She can’t recall
any
details of Cheyenne’s abduction?”