The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(41)

“I know I do,” he said. Then he stood suddenly, whistled and shouted to Austin. “Too far! Get back here!” Then he sat down again. “I really don’t know much about you. We’ll work on that friendship thing and maybe...” He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll tell me about it one of these days.”

“Tell you what?”

“Where you really came from. Who Mercy’s father is. What you’re worried about. Your friends can’t help you unless they understand.”

Uncomfortable, she looked away. Just briefly. But it was long enough for her to catch sight of a black SUV with darkly tinted windows driving down the road from 101 to the bar. She gasped. She covered her mouth and then checked the little kids—they were playing at the edge of the bay not fifteen feet away, digging deep holes and filling their buckets with wet sand. She looked back at the car. And she started to tremble.

“What?” Spencer asked. “What is it?”

She gripped his wrist. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, God...”

“You’re afraid of that car.”

“I have to go.... I have to—”

“Are they here for you? Looking for you?”

“I have to...” She stood. “I have to...”

“Stop,” he said. “Just stay right here. Sit down and don’t move. I’ll go see who they are, what they want. Don’t run—just keep an eye on the kids and Austin.”

“I know who they are,” she said, her face white as chalk. “I know what they want.”

“Then know this. You’re safe when you’re with me.”

Ten

Spencer whistled at Austin, giving him instructions to stay close to the dock, and telling him he’d be right back. Then he took the stairs two at a time to the bar, entering from the deck just as a man entered from the opposite door that led from the parking lot. Cooper was not in sight, probably busy with his family the day after his wedding, and Rawley was behind the bar. He sat down on a stool at the bar.

The man wore jeans and boots and a light blue denim long-sleeved shirt, although it was summer. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hands and forearms bore a few thin scars, what you would expect from a farmer or rancher.

“Help you?” Rawley asked.

“Yes, sir. I’m looking for a woman, sir. She’s kind of tall. Blonde. Around thirty-five or so. She’d have a seven-year-old boy and a pregnant girl with her.”

Rawley frowned and shook his head. “She got a name?”

“Reese,” he said. “Boy’s name is Mark, her son. She has her sister with her and the girl is due to have a baby real soon. They’re missing and I’m out trying to track her down....”

“Missing from where?” Spencer asked.

The man didn’t answer immediately. “Near Myrtle Creek. Farm near Myrtle Creek.”

“You family?” Rawley asked.

He shrugged. “More or less. I’ve known her a long time. I work the farm and we’re all...worried.”

“What’s she driving?” Rawley asked.

He shook his head. “She didn’t take a car. I think she got picked up.”

“Got a number we can call if we see her around?”

“You haven’t seen them, then?” he asked.

“Hasn’t been anyone new around here in a long time. My cousin was here last year, going through a divorce, ye see, but she’s gone back to Texas. Anyway, she’s way over thirty-five. You worried they been snatched?”

“We’re worried in general.”

“You talked to police?” Rawley asked.

“It’s family business,” he said. “If you haven’t seen her, I’ll just...”

“Wanna leave that number? How long they been gone?” Rawley pressed.

“It’s just been a day or two, but there’s no reason they should go anywhere. Especially without saying where they were going. It’s a mystery.”

“I’ll be glad to keep an eye out—I’m in this town ever day. And this here guy—he’s in town ever day. You’ll watch for her, eh?” he said, looking at Spencer.

“Of course. Yes.”

“Now. That number?” He pushed an order pad and pencil toward the man and watched while he wrote down numbers. “Anything turns up, I’ll give you a call, Mr....”

“Johnson,” he said. “Name’s Johnson.”

“Thing about this place, Mr. Johnson—it’s real small. One main street, no apartments for rent, no jobs—most folks are either fishermen, local workers or they hold jobs out of town. There ain’t nothing going on.... I been here for years. A couple of women and a kid come here, it’s real obvious. We got tourists, mostly for the beach. And I watch over the beach. If your people pass through, I’m bound to notice.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said politely. “Appreciate it.”

Seconds after the door closed, Rawley looked out the back door and Spencer went out to the deck. He was hoping Devon wasn’t watching the black SUV—that might tip them off. But she sat on the sand, ball cap pulled down, watching the children and Austin, who paddled by them, remained very close to the shore. Good girl, he thought.