Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(38)

With a flat glare toward his father and one last quick glance my way, Jesse guns the car, his tires kicking up rocks and dirt. The engine tears into the silence as he speeds away, and I watch the rectangular taillights disappear past the house.

“Guess I’ll be seeing ya, brother,” Amber mutters. She reaches out to pinch my elbow. “I’m working an afternoon stretch this week, so you won’t see me much. Text or call if you need anything.” I watch her leave, intentionally avoiding the glower I can feel boring holes into my back from the porch. I didn’t do anything wrong! Maybe if I stand here long enough, Ginny will forget.

Not likely.

“I thought he moved out!” Ginny’s reedy voice hollers.

Sheriff Gabe has thrown a leg over the fence and is headed my way, his boots crunching the gravel. I don’t really know him, not the way I know Meredith and Amber. He made a total of three visits to the hospital simply to say that there was nothing new to report about the investigation. For a man who deals with politicians, the media, and citizens, he’s not much of a talker. But his very presence—strong and controlled—must make up for it.

“Good morning, Ginny.” He reaches up to tip his hat toward her, ignoring her comment, making his way over to me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

His lips purse together and he nods once. I guess that’s his answer. Glancing back over his shoulder toward the house, where Ginny’s settling back down into her porch swing, he says, “I see Ginny’s in fine form?”

That makes me smile. “She’s okay.”

“I saw you in the barn earlier today, helping her with the horses. That’s good. She appreciates the help, even if she won’t ever say it.”

Now it’s my turn to nod. “You do a lot for her, don’t you?”

“I try to. Before her dad died, I promised him that I would. Our families go way back.” He pauses. “I’m glad you chose to come here. It was smart.”

“I didn’t have many options,” I admit, then quickly add, “but I’m glad, too. It’s beautiful here.”

He offers a small smile. “You’ll be safe here.”

Safe. That word. What does it really mean? Did I think I was safe before, too? Before I wasn’t? “Any news on my case?”

His frown returns. “No. All of the evidence is catalogued and I’m waiting for a break. I’m still watching the missing persons reports, but nothing fits.” Every time Sheriff Gabe talks about the investigation, he makes it sound like he’s taken on all the work himself. “There’ve been no inquiries of any kind coming across my desk.”

“So . . . what does that mean?”

He begins fumbling with the badge on his chest. “It means I don’t think whoever did this is actively looking for you. It was probably a guy driving through, on the way east or west, putting as much distance between your body and himself as he could. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of a body being dumped in the wilderness. He probably didn’t realize you were still alive. And with no DNA match to the criminal database, no witnesses, and no information about you, I’m aiming at targets in the dark. In outer space.”

I frown. “But didn’t you say the place was just outside town? That’s not really the wilderness, is it?”

“It is for city folk.”

“So, you’re saying he’s just going to get away with what he did to me.” The faceless man in my nightmare, his promise still weighing heavily on my mind, will walk free. Unpunished.

“I’m saying you’re safe here and you can put all of your focus on getting better. You don’t need to be afraid. As long as the guy thinks you’re dead, he has no reason to come back. So let’s keep it quiet. The people in Sisters don’t need to know the truth.”

He’s telling me to lie. Just like Amber did. I nod slowly.

Still grazing in the corral, Felix and Felix suddenly take off, the brown horse chasing the black one as they gallop through the stream, their powerful legs sending water splashing in every direction.

Water, splashing.

Water . . . splashing . . .

My eyes widen.

“What’s wrong?” Sheriff Gabe asks, sudden panic in his deep voice.

“I don’t . . .” My deep frown tugs at my scar. “I’m not sure . . .” There’s something . . . A feeling.

Is this what Dr. Weimer warned me about? A fragment of a memory?

“What is it?” Sheriff Gabe pushes, moving to stand in front of me to block my view of the stream, his stern, authoritative tone now in full effect, eyes black as coal sinking into me.

I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, especially mine. It’s so vague, I couldn’t even describe it if I wanted to, except to say that it made me feel . . . happy.

“Jane?”

Ugh. Ginny’s right. Even Felix would be better than Jane. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I was hoping it was something, but . . .” I shake my head slowly, watching the horses as they disappear over a crest. I guess that’s the only clue they’re going to give me and it’s not enough. “It’s not.”

Sheriff Gabe’s shoulders sag, almost with relief. “Amber gave you my direct line, right?”