From all accounts, Addie was obsessed with her boyfriend, and when they’d looked at her cell phone and computer, that information was confirmed by the sheer number of texts and social media posts/ tweets/pictures and so on. Kat couldn’t help but wonder if the girl had decided to ride toward his house since the Croft property wasn’t far from the Donovan place. The only properties between the two family ranches were an arm of government land and the place that had been owned by Faye Tate, where Shiloh was now staying with her kid sister.
Kat headed toward the Tate place, figuring to warn Shiloh about the missing teen and ask if Morgan had any association with the older girl. It would be a huge help to have an expert rider like Shiloh to search for signs of Addie in the parkland behind their ranch, which was mostly inaccessible by road. Passing the Tate mailbox, with its missing letter, Kat wished she had something to report about Ruth, but Ruth hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts. Ruth was avoiding her, plain and simple, and Kat got it that she didn’t want to dredge up those terrible memories. But it was time, past time, for something to be done, and since in Wyoming there was no statute of limitation on sexual assault, they needed to get the facts of the rape out there.
Kat wheeled into the long drive of the Tate property, twin ruts of sparse gravel interspersed with potholes and dry weeds. The house, located on a small rise, wasn’t in great shape, though it seemed there had been some work done recently, as evidenced by the fresh rails on the porch and visible patches of new shingles on the roof.
She parked and made her way up the path to knock on an already open door, only a screen blocking her entrance. “Shiloh?” she called, and a girl of about twelve, carrying a cell phone, appeared.
“Who’re you?” she said through the screen.
“I’m Katrina Starr. I work for the Sheriff’s Department, and I’m a friend of Shiloh’s,” Kat said showing her badge. “You must be Morgan.”
The girl stared through the mesh at Kat’s ID. “Are you here to arrest her?”
“No, just talk to her.”
“Oh.” She almost looked disappointed. “She’s in the barn, around back.” She lifted the hook latch on the screen and motioned Kat toward a small living room and through a dining area to the kitchen, each room following after the other, shotgun style, or maybe like an older-model mobile home. At the rear of the house, Morgan pointed out another open door. “Out there,” she said.
“Thanks.” Kat paused. “Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’m sorry about your mom.”
The girl lifted a slim shoulder. “It’s okay.”
No. No, it isn’t. It never is.
Kat simply nodded and kept her thoughts to herself. There were no words of sympathy that would strike a chord.
“You need me to show you the way?” Morgan asked.
“If you want, but I see the barn.” She smiled at the tween. “I think I can find it.”
Morgan’s phone jingled musically as a new text came in, and she turned her attention away from Kat and onto the small screen. Kat made her way past some outdoor furniture as she crossed the wide porch, then hurried down a few steps to the path, which led through an open gate. The yard was patchy, but sparse, mostly dry. The surrounding fields were much the same, the landscape dotted with a herd of horses trying to graze on dry grass near the barn.
Kat noticed Shiloh standing next to Beau Tate. A dog lying in the sun next to him, Tate was working on a latch on one of the gates. The dog stood up as it heard Kat approach, and Shiloh looked around. She said something to Beau, who lifted his head from his task.
“Hey. What’s up?” Shiloh asked.
“Working a case. One of your neighbor girls is missing as of yesterday,” she said and saw Shiloh’s expression turn wary.
“Missing?”
“Addison Donovan. She’s eighteen, just graduated from high school and went out riding last evening.” Kat explained what she knew about the case, including how Addie’s horse had returned without her.
“I remember the Donovans,” Shiloh said, hitching her thumb to the north.
“Good people,” Beau said.
Kat nodded. “We’ve checked the Croft property and every piece of land surrounding the Donovan ranch.”
“You think she might have ridden over here? On my—er, our land?” She glanced at Beau.
“Part of the western end of your property butts up to US Forest Service land, which is practically inaccessible due to the ravine. Lots of scrub brush and downed trees. There are a few tracks back there that a truck could probably make, but it’s always easiest to explore on foot or horseback. I thought we might check there.” She saw the skepticism in her friend’s eyes. “I know. It’s a long shot, but . . .”
Shiloh inclined her head. “Whatever it takes. I’ll round up the horses.”
“What about Morgan?” Beau asked and glanced at the back porch.
“I don’t think she should come.” Shiloh glanced up at him, and something, some kind of understanding, passed between them, almost as if they were parents. . . or at least a couple.
“I’ll see what she wants to do,” he said, squinting toward the porch and waving. “If she wants to ride, I’ll stick with her and pull up if we locate anything . . . disturbing. If she doesn’t want to come, she’ll have her phone, and Rambo will be here.”
Kat eyed the shepherd, who wagged his tail at her. “Yeah, great guard dog.”
Beau snorted. “Well, I was thinking more like he would keep her company. We’ll figure it out.”
As it turned out, Morgan wouldn’t be left behind, and they all rode through the series of paddocks and fields while grasshoppers flew out of their path and the sun rode low in the western sky. At the edge of the government land, Beau opened the final gate, and all four horses filed through before he latched the fastener behind them and climbed astride his gelding once more. Single file, they guided their horses through the brush and around pines with low-hanging branches, along a deer trail that led to the bottom of the ravine. Far overhead, sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, dappling the ground, where pinecones, sticks, and rocks littered the dry soil.
They didn’t speak, just searched the gloom, looking for anything that might lead them to the missing girl, as they worked their way in the direction of the Croft property. This was a long shot at best, Kat knew, and more likely a wild goose chase. She followed Shiloh, who rode a dappled mare. Kat was on Toby, a bay quarter horse, followed by Morgan on a mare and Beau on his gelding. The horses snorted, their hoof beats softened by the soft dirt on the trail. All the while Kat scanned the area, her eyes narrowing against the umbra.
She felt uneasy on the horse, not that she hadn’t ridden often as a younger woman, but today’s mission, coupled with her own worries about Addie Donovan, made the forest seem ominous. At the bottom of the ravine, the trail followed the edge of a stream winding its way down from higher elevations. Her eyes were on the ground, ever searching, when she heard Beau say, “Buzzards.”
She glanced up to the sky, and, sure enough, there were two large birds high above.
“Let’s go,” Beau said, and Shiloh picked up the pace, urging her mount to move quickly through the underbrush.
Behind her, Beau told Morgan: “This might not be good. You should probably hang back. It’s probably a calf, dead or dying.”
“I can handle it,” Morgan replied.
“You’re sure?” He didn’t sound convinced.