“What is this about? I came here for Jeramiah, but I was excited to see you. Hell, last night meant everything to me. I could’ve laid there with you for the rest of my life. But I have to get this guy so I can move on. And I have to make sure you’re safe while I do it. That’s all.”
Her gaze relaxes, and she moves toward me, her voice soft. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m worried about you now. You’re going to be all alone in the dark and who knows what this guy is capable of. My mom has had me watching true crime for twenty years. The cultists are the weirdest of all.”
I land my hand on her cheek. “I’m going to come back to you, and we’re going to pick up right where we left off last night. Okay?”
She sighs and leans back against a pine tree, staring up at me with tears welling in her eyes. “You better, or I’ll have the mountain up here looking for you.”
“Fair enough.” I kiss her forehead and linger in the moment, breathing in the soft scent of flowers in her hair.How does she still smell so good?“Just promise me you’ll stay put at Walker’s. I need to know you’re safe. How far are we from his cabin?”
She nods to the left, and through the trees I see the edge of a small log cabin that looks sturdier than the one we’ve been staying in, at least from what I can see through the pale light of the moon. “That’s his place.”
“Okay,” I say, kissing her once more. “Let’s go get you settled.”
She nods, but she turns away before I can kiss her again, and a pit grows in the bottom of my stomach. I know she isn’t going to follow directions. That’s not who she is. And I’m not sure, I’m in any position to blame her for it.
Chapter Seven
Violet
Walker answers the door straight away, which I’m grateful for. I’ve heard enough haunting urban legends about Rugged Mountain after dark to keep my heart racing walking around here at night.
The ghost of miners that didn’t make it through their expeditions. The wolf shifters that hunt and prowl for a mate out in Saddle Creek. And then there’s the unforgiving tale of the night Mrs. Richardson was abducted and ravaged by some kind of purple aliens up on Whiskey Pass. She went into pretty intense detail as she retold the story at Mullet’s bar downtown. I didn’t hear a lot of it, but from what I gather, there was something about seven-foot-tall aliens and giant dicks that did all kinds of crazy things. Truthfully, it was a more intriguing story than most of the books I’ve read lately.
Walker rubs his eyes and stares at me blankly. I’m sure he’s not used to having company at all, let alone this late. “Violet?What are you doing out here?” He holds out his arms, as though he’s afraid for me. I lean into his massive chest and hug him hello. We don’t talk much, but he seems like a long-lost brother to me.
“It’s a long story,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I need your help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Long story, remember?”
Walker’s jaw tightens. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I was helping this detective guy. He dropped me off here a second ago, and now he’s out and looking for some cult leader and I’m… I’ve got to help him, but I don’t know how.”
“A cop?” His voice cracks. “Looking for a cult leader?” There’s a nervousness in Walker’s tone that sets me on alert, like maybe he’s been up here all these years for a reason, but I don’t question him. Instead, I just keep talking. I know my radar has been off, for a while apparently.
“Yeah, I don’t know all the details. He’s trying to catch this guy off guard.”
“And you’re going to help? How?” Walker sits on the edge of his rocking chair and looks back at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Sounds like he wants you to stay here, while he does his work.”
“Yeah, but I can’t do that. I need to help him. He doesn’t know these mountains. He doesn’t know the terrain.”
Walker runs his big hand over his long beard before making his way toward the stove to start a pot of water. I assume it’s for tea when he pulls down two mugs. I’ve never noticed how well he keeps the place. He’s put a lot of effort into making the space his own. There’s a set of handmade bookshelves framing the hallway with a hand carved deer in each corner. And the countertops in the kitchen have been sanded and stained to match. The space even smells good, like fresh baked bread and cinnamon.
“I know you love this kind of shit,” he says, settling two tea bags into the mugs, “but I think you need to rest here tonight and wait for your detective to come find you. It sounds like that’s what he wanted.”
Every ounce of me wants to scream for him to stop and take me seriously, but I know better. He’ll only laugh me off with that kind of reaction. I need to move slow if I’m going to get his help.
“You’re probably right,” I say, “and that would make total sense if this were just some random case I was chasing. But this isn’t the grocery store thing, or the time I followed that old man down to the riverbank because I thought he’d stolen from the diner. I care about Hawk. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
Walker narrows his gaze. “What do you mean you care about him? Didn’t you guys just meet?”
“We’ve been talking for a few months online and I don’t know… when I saw him in person… everything just clicked. Then last night we—”
“Spare me,” Walker smiles, and hands me a steaming cup of tea. “If I were to help you, what did you have in mind?”
My heart races with excitement at the thought of maybe getting his help. “I was hoping we could use your ATV. I think we can catch up with Hawk and you have guns. We could use them for backup.”