Page 29 of All the Missing Pieces

I didn’t need to be worried about Ridley and her peace. I cleared my throat.

The sound made Ridley’s eyes fly open and that startling blue settled on me. Her board wobbled slightly, making the creature at the front of it hiss.

I watched in shocked fascination as her three-legged cat, clad in a life jacket, leapt from the board and into the water, easily swimming to shore. The moment it reached the lake’s bank it shook out its fur and simply waited.

“What the hell?” I mumbled.

The cat just stared back at me, eyes full of judgment.

“Can I help you, Sheriff?” Ridley stepped off the board and into water that went to her knees. I knew it had to be freezing given that it was only late May and the lake was fed by snowmelt. But it had nothing on the frigid tone of her voice.

My gaze moved over her face in an attempt not to settle on any one thing. If I couldn’t take in her beauty, her pain, then maybe I could keep myself in line. “You haven’t left yet.”

Ridley lifted the paddleboard out of the water with ease even though I knew it wasn’t light. Her shoulders flexed with the movement, the golden skin pulling taut over lean muscle. My fingers itched to trace the divots and curves. I bit the inside of my cheek until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

“Doesn’t sound like a question, Law Man,” Ridley said as she slid her feet into sandals and headed for the trail, the damned cat bounding after her.

Annoyance flared as I followed her and the animal. “I’m wondering why you haven’t. Emerson isn’t going to talk to you. This town won’t talk to you. And I’m sure as hell not talking to you.”

She flicked a look over her shoulder, those blue depths pinning me to the spot. “Sure looks like you’re talking now.”

I snapped my mouth closed, my back teeth grinding together. “You know what I mean.”

Ridley shrugged, navigating the final stretch of trail with ease. She seemed at home here even though it had only been a couple of days according to her campsite reservation. Maybe it was that she was at home in nature as a whole.

It fit. Hair bleached by the sun. Skin kissed gold by the same. A body toned by traversing mountains and water.

Fucking hell.

“I haven’t forced a single soul to talk to me. Never have, never will. I’ll give people the opportunity, for sure. I’ll plead my caseand hope they’re willing to help. But if it’s too painful, I’ll accept their need to stay silent.”

“Help?” I scoffed. “That’s what you think you’re doing? Helping?”

Ridley’s body tensed but she kept on moving, leaning her board against the van. She turned to face me, not slow, not fast, but as if she were in complete control. “Yes. I’m helping to find the truth. To bring closure. To stop someone from hurtingmoreinnocent people.”

My gut churned. I wanted to know about thatmore, but I wasn’t about to ask her. “All you’re doing is ripping open old wounds. And for what? A few thousand more followers on TikTok? More money in your pocket from whatever fucking sponsorships you have?”

Fire blazed in those blue eyes. So hot I swore there were hints of silver flecking her irises. A white-hot flame that turned me to ash on the spot.

“You don’t know the first thing about me. If you did, you’d know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. But you haven’t taken a damned second to get to know me. It’s been snap judgments and bitter assumptions from the second you first saw me. Maybe that’s why this case has been unsolved for as long as it has. You won’t open your eyes and actuallysee.”

With that she unlocked the van’s door and climbed inside, slamming it in her and the cat’s wake.

I stared at the van for a long moment. The way the curtains rippled with the echoes of that slam, the same way the sound echoed in my ears. The sound of the slam and her words.

Because she’d gotten one thing right, I hadn’t solved Emerson’s case. Not in the nine years I’d been on the job. And that just made me hate myself a little more.

12

RIDLEY

The words Colthad hurled in my direction clung to me like smoke from a campfire. It was as if they’d been baked into my flesh. After he’d left, I’d tried yoga, meditation, even going for a quick run. None of it had helped.

Because there was a tiny voice inside my head that wondered if I was hurting others in my quest for the truth. I sure as hell was hurting Colt. Because that’s what was fueling his verbal lashings—pain. The agony that came from losing a sister. I knew that pain well. It was just that he’d found his again. I never had.

I guided my bike around a curve in the road, letting the wind try to wash away his accusations. Or at least help me push through them so I could take the next steps I had to for the podcast—for the investigation. I wasn’t going back to Cowboy Coffee, at least not yet. I wanted to give Ezra time to cool down, to consider that I might have something to offer.

So instead, I headed for The Whiskey Barrel. It was lunchtime now, and I hoped I might find a few day drinkers who’d be willing to give me background on the story. Maybe they’d remember players at the time who had been overlooked by law enforcement. Anything that might give me a lead. Because if this was the perpetrator’s first crime, a bungled one atthat, there was a good chance they’d left more clues behind here than anywhere else. There was even a possibility the unsub had lived in Shady Cove at the time. Maybe they still did.

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