Besides, he was curious to see how she’d interact with his children. It wasn’t like he could cancel his plans. His girls had asked a friend to change the date of her Christmas party so they’d be able to visit Whiskey Creek. The judge had assigned him Christmas Eve and Suzie Christmas Day.
“I’ll give Chey a call.”
His father was watching him a little too closely.
“What?” he said.
“You like her, don’t you.”
He did. He liked her a lot. “Quit acting so smug,” he said, and his father chuckled as he walked away.
* * *
When Joe’s call came in, Cheyenne silenced her phone. She knew it was rude not to answer. It seemed like she’d been avoiding him all week. Gail tried calling next. But she couldn’t talk to either one of them right now. After several hours of searching without success, she was too panicked. She wanted to take a flashlight and comb the woods by the river. Presley loved it down there. During the summer she’d stand and wade in the water and smoke cigarette after cigarette.
Although it was too cold for that at Christmas, especially after dark, Cheyenne decided to go down there, anyway. But first she was hoping to enlist the support of the local police. She and Riley had contacted all of Presley’s friends and coworkers. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. Driving around, asking anyone and everyone about her sister wasn’t producing any results. Presley had left in the dead of night. Not many people in Whiskey Creek were up in the wee hours.
Riley waited in his Explorer as she knocked on Tim Stacy’s door. Tim hadn’t been the chief of police for more than a few years, but he’d worked for the four-man department as long as Cheyenne had lived in Whiskey Creek, so she’d seen him around. He’d once pulled Eve over when Cheyenne was with her, for accidentally running a red light.
When he answered the door, she could tell she’d interrupted his dinner.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said.
“No problem.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin he’d carried away from the table and glanced surreptitiously over her head, at Riley. “What can I do for you?”
He listened as she explained the situation, but as soon as she mentioned Presley’s name she could tell he was only being polite. By the time she reached the part about her sister taking off, and the fact that she hadn’t been seen all day, he was already discounting Cheyenne’s concern.
“It’s not even eight o’clock,” he said.
“But she left in the middle of last night. That means she’s been gone for fifteen hours or more.”
“Hours? Come on, you know your sister’s never been as…shall we say, stable as you have.”
“That may be true—”
“I’m sure she’s just trying to cope with her grief,” he broke in. “You’ve both been through a lot. The loss of a parent affects us all differently.”
“She’s never disappeared like this,” Cheyenne said, but that was desperation talking. She knew the second those words came out of her mouth that she’d lost all credibility. Presley had disappeared for days at a time. Once, she’d run away for weeks.
This situation was different, though. But only Cheyenne knew why.
No longer in uniform, he adjusted the belt that held up his jeans. “She’s got her car, right? She’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“If she’s not back in another day or so, we’ll see what we can do.”
“Day or so?” she echoed.
“I can’t use the city’s resources too quickly, Cheyenne. That wouldn’t be fair to the taxpayers, now would it—if I were to round up everyone and keep them out all night, on overtime, searching, only to find her drunk in some bar in Sacramento?”
Cheyenne’s heart sank. Once again, her sister’s reputation was working against her. Cheyenne had battled Anita’s irresponsibility all her life and now she was battling Presley’s.
Still, she made an effort to convince him. Riley even got out and said he thought something might really be wrong this time. But being gone for less than a full day wasn’t considered abnormal behavior, especially for a known drug user.
“I’m sorry,” Riley said as they walked back to his SUV.
Cheyenne was too angry to respond.
He opened the door for her. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not giving up,” she said. “You can go home if you want, but I’m not giving up.”
“I don’t want to go home, Chey, but—” he grimaced “—I left Jacob at a friend’s. I need to get back there and collect him. I can leave him at my mom’s and come back later, though. I’ll do that, okay?”
Warm tears slid down her cheeks. She’d already taken his whole afternoon and most of the evening. But there wasn’t anyone else she could turn to.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Stay with Jacob. He’s off school and, for a change, not involved with sports and homework. And it’s almost Christmas. I don’t mind doing it alone.”
* * *
Aaron sat on one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room, drinking a Pepsi. Normally when he came in from the back, he got what he wanted and returned directly to the shop. He also left with the others at five o’clock, which he hadn’t done today. Dylan got the impression he was lingering because he had something to say.
“So…you really like Cheyenne, huh?”
That was it? He wanted to rub Dylan’s nose in what had happened last night?
Dylan finished the bite he’d taken of the sandwich Mack had brought him for dinner. He’d stayed at work because he was behind—and he thought it might help him forget Cheyenne. For the moment. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
After downing half his soda, Aaron belched. “Didn’t I just tell you?”
“You don’t give a shit about my love life. And it’s got nothing to do with you, anyway. So is there something else we need to talk about?”
A strange look flickered over his brother’s face. Aaron seemed to struggle to come up with the right words. Then he muttered, “What the hell. Forget it,” and got up.
There was emotion in his voice beyond his usual petulance. It caught Dylan’s attention, brought him to his feet. “Aaron!”
He turned at the door and stared at him with hollow eyes, as if he couldn’t tolerate the pain that was eating him up inside.