A/N: This is a long chapter. More background Samcedes so you know a little of their history. As always I own nothing but the mistakes.
Ten
Gina had lost count as to how many times she'd entered a classroom late that day, so when she stepped inside her sixth-period classroom, late yet again, the students turned and watched her walk to the teacher's desk with her schedule in hand.
American Sign Language. She'd finally arrived at her most anticipated class of the day because of Stevie Menkins.
When they were younger, Stevie had had a difficult time talking, so his mother and his Uncle Sam learned sign language with him to help him communicate. And Stevie taught it to her. She didn't know much, but whenever Stevie got flustered, he'd use a sign to talk. And she'd been fascinated ever since.
But the school year was half over. To get into the second semester of ASL I, she first had to catch up on the first. She'd spent her entire break learning the signs, classifiers, and grammar—which, in ASL, was mostly on the face—so they'd let her into the class.
Mrs. Castle, an older woman with brown hair and wire-framed glasses, signed her schedule and handed it back to her along with a syllabus that had the link to the Google Classroom link that she could enroll into the digital classroom with which would have her textbook and other things she would need for the class. Then, without a word, she gestured toward a desk in the middle of the room.
Gina ignored the silence and slid into her seat as quietly as possible, only to find Mrs. Castle finger-spelling in the air while reading from her computer screen.
She would pause and look up at a raised hand, and then repeat the whole thing again and again, and Gina realized she was taking roll. Panic began to rise inside her when she found herself unable to understand a single thing she spelled. It was all so fast, the teacher's hand a blur of motion, and yet every time she paused, a student would raise his or her hand.
She'd made a mistake. A huge one. When she felt a trickle of perspiration slip down her back, she followed it, sinking further down into her chair.
The teacher stopped and looked up as though confused. She looked at her screen again and then back at the class. Then she stood, put her hands on her hips, and said aloud, "Mr. Lopez-Bowen, what are you doing in my classroom?"
Like the rest of the class, Gina turned to see Ricky in the back row.
He said matter of factly, "I have to have two years of a foreign language. ASL counts."
"Yes," she said as though struggling for patience, "but why are you in this class?"
"I don't like the Spanish teacher."
She rolled her eyes. "No one likes the Spanish teacher." The entire class erupted in laughter, but she continued, "But that doesn't explain why you are in my class."
Clearly, the teacher had a problem with Ricky, but Gina was getting defensive. If he needed the credit, she couldn't stop him from getting it, could she?
"Two years. There are only two classes. ASL I and ASL II. I don't have a choice."
Mrs. Castle crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against her desk. "You know very well that you could test out of this class and take the next one. You could test out of that one, too, if you really wanted to."
Gina straightened her shoulders in surprise.
"So, once again, why are you in my class?"
He lifted that same shoulder and let his gaze land on Gina. "I like the company here better."
The class laughed again, and Mrs. Castle went back around her desk, but before she sat down, she signed something to Ricky, her movements so fast, Gina only caught one word: help.
Ricky nodded as though agreeing to something, but that wasn't the interesting part. He'd understood her. Every word. As though he knew ASL as well as he knew English, because another student raised her hand, shook her head, and signed understand. She didn't understand either and was asking for clarification.
Mrs. Castle spoke aloud again. "I just asked Mr. Lopez-Bowen if he would consider helping out in class every so often, and he agreed."
The female student flashed him a smile, clearly as impressed as Gina, but he didn't seem to notice. Nor did he seem to notice the other girls vying for his attention. But he did notice Gina. He had yet to take his eyes off her.
Gina faced the teacher again before she lost control of her own smile, but she burned with a million questions for him, not the least of which was how he seemed to know ASL so well. Hopefully, she'd find out when she interviewed him for their history assignment.
When the teacher passed out a worksheet, Gina opted to check out Ashlyn's schedule instead. As luck would have it, she shared not one, not two, but three classes with Ashlyn, and one of those was their seventh-period class.
Gina refocused her energy twenty minutes later on investigating Ashlyn and not mooning over Ricky. So far, no one in her seventh period knew that much about her. Nor did they know of any friends she may have had.
But surely Ashlyn hung out with someone in PE. There was safety in numbers in such a class.
As luck would have it, Kourtney was in the class, too. The only person in school ridiculously happy to see Gina rushed up to her after they dressed out. Gina was assigned to the bleachers since she had yet to purchase the requisite uniform, which was basically shorts and a tee in the school colors, red and gold.
"Hi!" Kourtney said, sitting beside her on the bleachers while the teacher took roll. "I have an extra pair of shorts and a tee if you want to dress out."
"I'm good, but I think your shorts would be way too short on me." Gina said with a grin.
Kourtney laughed. "Right. Sorry. So, you and Ricky seem to know each other pretty well."
"Um . . . not really?"
"Are you sure? Remember that summer Seb Smith almost drowned and Ricky Lopez-Bowen jumped in and dragged him out, doing that lifeguard hold while the lifeguard just kind of stood on the pier with his mouth hanging open? That was so crazy. And then he got a medal for bravery and—"
"That was Ricky?" Gina did indeed remember that summer, but she didn't remember Kourtney being there or the fact that Ricky was the one who'd saved that kid. They were only ten years old at the time.
Ricky was only ten when he had saved a kid from drowning.
She was learning all kinds of new things about Ricky Lopez-Bowen, but why now? Perhaps because he'd only recently shown up on her radar? But that wasn't true. She'd had a bit of a crush for years, she just didn't know his name. And she was always too shy to actually talk to him.
But she remembered the very day she'd first noticed him. It was exactly three summers ago, and he'd sat reading while the popular kids tried to get him into the lake. He ignored them. Completely.
Maybe his saving Seb did have an impact on her, she'd just never made the connection. She liked how he just sort of hung back and let others take the spotlight even though he was clearly popular. Everyone seemed to respect him, and the girls definitely showed interest even when he didn't.
"So, do you know Ashlyn?" she asked Kourtney as the girl tied her gym shoes.
She sat up. "The missing girl? Sure. She's so nice, and she has all that beautiful red hair, and she likes to read. A lot. And this one time—"
"Were you two friends?"
"Well, I tried to be. She didn't talk much, though."
She did appear to be withdrawn, and yet she'd come up to Gina at the party and introduced herself. She was the one who initiated the conversation which was something even Gina had difficulty doing.
"I get it, though. It's hard to be the new girl. She just moved here this summer. But it could've been me. I'm a bit much sometimes. I tend to scare people away."
"Really?" Gina asked, pretending to be shocked.
"I know, right?" She laughed, and Gina loved that she could do that. Laugh at herself. Many people couldn't. Where was the fun in that? "You know, she reminds me of you."
Gina raised a brow. "How, we don't look anything at all alike?"
"I mean, you are both tall, look like you are sixteen, and appear to be reserved, more mature than most freshmen in high school."
"I was thinking with me being black and she being white that is what most people would see." If you didn't take skin color, hair color, and body composition into it, then they both had a lot of things in common. "So, do you know who Ashlyn's friends were?"
"Aww, Wait a minute. I know exactly what you are doing," Kourtney leaned closer, her excitement showing in her pretty brown eyes. "Are you helping your mom investigate the case? Because if you are, I could help, too. I'm great at talking to someone so much they give up and tell me everything they know to get rid of me. I'm considering a job in the FBI when I grow up."
"You'd be great," Gina said humored her. She had to admit Kourtney was smart, but there was no way that talking a lot gave a person a chance to confess anything because you could hardly get a word edgewise. "So, Ashlyn?"
Kourtney appeared to think long and hard before responding. "I really don't know much about her. I just don't remember seeing her hang out with anyone else. Isn't that weird? I mean, everyone hangs out with someone at our age. Who would want to self-isolate themselves?"
She couldn't answer Kourtney's questions concerning Ashlyn because they made no sense. Ashlyn was adorable and very likeable and came from a rich family which would guarantee social acceptance at some level. Why would a girl who'd started at a school four months earlier have no friends at all?
Their teacher called the class to the floor. That was when Gina noticed Lily Lynn and her crew dressed in their gym clothes. Lily turned to her, held her fingers up in the shape of a gun, and pretended to pull the trigger.
Great. She'd have this bully to look forward to all day every day. Lily at the start and the end of her day. Just what she'd always wanted.
But Gina was once again struck with the fact that there had to be more to Lily's animosity toward her than just the deputies raiding the party and confiscating the keg. She would eventually have no choice but to confront the girl and let her know she was no pushover. It was the only way to deal with bullies. If you ignore them, they got more aggressive. If you showed fear, they would pounce. If you confronted them, then one or two things happened. One, they tried to fight you (her mother would be mad, but she had taught her daughter how to fight dirty to protect herself from man, woman, or child). Two, they back off when they realize you are not afraid of them and will cut a bitch if necessary.
She didn't need Lily distracting her. She needed to focus on Ashlyn. So, far her investigation was going nowhere. Kourtney would be an excellent source and obviously would know if Ashlyn had friends or secrets. She had yet to uncover a single thing that might help her mom find Ashlyn and this made her sad.
She needed to talk to the one man she could confide in. The one man she'd always gone to when she felt the world turning against her.
Oddly enough, it was a man she'd never met. A man she'd only seen pictures of and dreamed of and whose voice she longed to hear.
It was time she paid a visit to her father.
Before Cedes and Hunter could leave to question the Menkinses about Stevie, an older man with graying brown hair entered the sheriff's office and commanded the room with a single glance. Or perhaps it was his confidence. The way he stood. The expression he wore on his handsome face.
"And who is this guy?" Hunter asked as the man spoke to Dani.
"He screams FBI agent," Cedes said.
"Are you becoming psychic now after eating June's donuts or is it because he's wearing a jacket with the letters FBI on the left side of the chest?"
"It could be both. Even without the jacket, he looks like the television show version of the feds, don't you think?"
Hunter looked at her. "You think he looks like a television actor. Are you checking that man out?"
"What? No, not me but everyone else in the room is looking at him. He has "it"."
"And women complain about men in the workplace."
He was right. But it was seriously impossible not to notice the guy. "He's just movie star handsome. He reminds me of the guy Carlisle in the Twilight movies. Oh my goodness, he's coming over." Pretending to be busy, she picked up an empty box.
"Of course he's coming over here to talk to you, you are the sheriff remember. I think we should have made you go to the hospital to run tests on your head. You really did hit it hard earlier."
The handsome agent walked straight up to her and held out his hand. "Sheriff, I'm Special Agent Rupert Campion."
A jolt of electricity shot through her. Even his name was sexy. "Mercedes Porter." She dropped the box. "Sheriff. The sheriff. Of Lima Springs. The entire county." She decided to stop while she was ahead.
He paused as though trying to figure her out, then refocused on Hunter.
"Chief Deputy Hunter Clarington."
"Sorry we're meeting under these circumstances."
"And what circumstances would those be?" she asked. She didn't know why the feds would be in Lima Springs.
"Ah. You weren't informed ahead of time of my arrival."
"Not at all."
"The governor asked if I could take a look at the Caswell case."
Of course the Caswells knew the governor of California. Why wouldn't they? They weren't even from here, and they had an in with the freaking governor. "Well, we certainly won't mind an extra set of eyes."
Hunter coughed into his hand to cover up his snickering.
The agent nodded. "Thank you. I hear you just got a lead?"
Hunter shrugged into his jacket. "We're heading out there now. You're welcome to come along with us."
"Don't mind if I do. Do you have a copy of the file I can peruse on the way?"
"Of course." Cedes grabbed her copy and handed it to him. "Dani can make you a copy to have at your disposal, but you can look at mine for now. Shall we go?"
Cedes had worked with the FBI before, naturally, but she wondered exactly when Debbie Caswell had called the governor. "So, exactly when did Deborah Caswell call the governor?" She looked at her passenger in the rearview as they drove north, but he was studying the file.
"First thing this morning, as far as I know. I don't think it was her though. I think the husband called him. Is he back in town yet?"
"Not yet. His plane should be landing soon though."
They discussed the evidence they had thus far, which wasn't much.
"Any thoughts about the case?" she asked him.
"I'm fairly certain this will be solved quickly."
"How's that?" Hunt asked.
"It's clearly a hoax, but when the governor says jump . . ."
Cedes knew he'd think that. Any sane person would. But he didn't know Lima Springs like she did. He didn't know what happened to her as a seventeen year old.
They drove up a freshly paved road that led to the Menkins' compound. When Cedes drove past the entrance gate, she slammed on the brakes.
The place was gorgeous. Several houses sat on the Menkins' land. Land that had been in their family for three decades and had gone from being barely more than shacks to millionaire's row.
"Has it changed much?" Hunt asked, his voice tinged with humor.
"I'd say so and even that is an understatement."
"Their business has been good to them."
"And what business is that?" Agent Campion asked.
"Sam Menkins has a world-famous corn whiskey distillery."
The man nodded in understanding.
"Maybe you've heard of it?" Cedes asked. "EMS Lima Springs Finest?"
He let out a soft whistle. "I have. It's really good stuff."
"According to rumor," Hunter said, "the Menkinses had been part of the Dixie Mafia. They'd headed west in the early '80s, when the organization decided to set up shop in rural California."
"The name sounds familiar."
"It should." Cedes proceeded up the drive slowly. She didn't know which of the sprawling rustics or multiple outbuildings to go to, so she decided on what looked like the main house. "They'd sent the five Menkins brothers here." They consisted of Sam's father, Rick and four uncles, but Campion didn't need to know that. "They were on the way there when the big raid happened."
"The big raid?"
"The FBI launched a massive raid of the organization, and they designated the entire Shelby County Sheriff's Office in Memphis, Tennessee, a criminal organization."
"Oh yes. I do remember reading about that. It's a famous case."
Hunter spoke up. "It set a new precedence in dealing with organized crime and basically left the Menkins family hanging because they were not apprehended with the rest of the gang." He gestured to their surroundings.
"And they ended up here?" Campion asked.
"They'd apparently been taking back roads, scoping them out for future reference. And one of their vehicles broke down just over the pass."
"They've lived here ever since," Cedes added. "I guess they couldn't go back."
"I wouldn't think so. Do you have any problems with them?" he asked.
Cedes shrugged. "Not as much as you might think. Not anymore, anyway. But it's only my first day on the job."
"No kidding?" The man smiled at her in surprise.
"No kidding."
"And that would be thanks to the Menkins," Hunt said. "The drop in complaints. He'd been trying to get them to go legit for years. To break all ties with organized crime. It took him a while, but he may have finally succeeded."
"The Menkins? I thought they were all Menkinses."
"They are, but oddly enough, the title has gone to the youngest male in the family, Sam. All the others just go by their first names. It's a status thing, I believe."
"Are you okay with being here?" Hunt asked, knowing she'd suffered through the same punishment from the Menkins family as he had growing up.
"I'm just praying Stacey isn't home."
Campion leaned in. "Stacey?"
"Stacey Menkins," Hunt said. "They don't get along. She tried to kill Mercedes when we were younger by stabbing her in the face. There is a faint scar on her forehead."
"She only tried it once," she said defensively. "Though it did make an impression."
"When was this?" the agent asked.
"We were in PreK."
"Ah." He laughed softly and sat back.
"But she's bullied her ever since."
"Just be careful around her," Cedes said, hoping to steer both of them away from the woman. "She's basically harmless. Like a cougar. Or a rattlesnake. Or a drug queen pin. You leave her alone, she'll leave you alone."
"Yeah," Hunt said. "You don't and she'll stab or slap you."
"She's never had the best impulse control, but I like to think she's grown both as a mother and a human being."
The snort from Hunter cast a substantial amount of doubt on her theory.
Stacey was Sam's younger sister by a couple of years, even though she'd always bossed him around like she was older. She'd had the man wrapped around her little finger since she was in diapers.
And she'd been Cedes' mortal enemy since preschool, when Stacey broke all of Cedes' school supplies on the first day of school.
Ever since then, the crazy heifer had gone out of her way to make Cedes' life miserable, and Cedes went out of her way to make sure Stacey knew how happy she was despite the girl's pitiful attempts to ruin her life.
Of course, a lot has changed since they were in school.
"Strange thing is," Hunt said, turning around to Campion, "no one knows how the Menkins family originally got this land. There's no record of sale. It was just suddenly in their name one day and that was that."
"Interesting," he said, and Cedes could almost see the gears in his mind working overtime.
They pulled up in front of the main house, a stunning ranch with a massive log porch that wrapped around the entire building.
Campion whistled when they stepped out. "At least crime paid for someone. Where's the distillery?"
Hunt gestured past the house. "It's farther down the road."
He nodded, and they started for the front door when a truck, a huge black truck that had EMS Lima Springs Finest on the sides of it, stopped beside them.
She tried not to stare at Sam, but she couldn't help sneaking a few quick glances at his fine ass.
Her mind rocketed back to the first real encounter she'd had with the Menkins family. With Sam in particular.
In hindsight, she realized she'd simply made an easy target, but at the time, she'd wondered what she'd done to upset the entire family. Why did they hate her so much? An animosity that would continue throughout middle school and into high school until she put the town, and everyone in it, in her rearview mirror.
She was thirteen when she got her first taste of the Menkinses as a unified whole. Not just the actions of her bully, Stacey, but the entire group of the kids from the five Menkins men who had married and populated the area.
She'd been riding her bike home from the lake like she did almost every day in the summer with a popsicle in her left hand. She saw them riding their own bikes to the lake, about seven of them with only one girl in the bunch.
Hoping Stacey would ignore her for once in her life, she put her head down and pedaled faster, trying to hurry past. But two of the boys slid sideways to cut her off, and the rest surrounded her.
She had to stop so fast she almost fell, skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust. This amused them. Well, most of them.
Sam Menkins sat on his bike a few feet from her, stone-faced, his gaze locked on to her as though he were thinking about inviting her to dinner. Or cooking her for it.
She never forgot that day. The youngest boy of the bunch, Sam, who was taller and slimmer than any of the others, seemed to have the most power.
The gang stayed on their bikes, none of them saying a thing as they stared at her.
Her popsicle had melted over her left hand. She'd been struggling with it, anyway, but in the heat of the moment, she'd forgotten and not she had a sticky cherry mess on her hand.
She dropped the rest of it on the dirt when they got off their bikes and closed in on her. All of them except Sam and, surprisingly, Stacey.
She tried to back her bike up to go around them, but one of the boys caught her rear wheel.
Her lungs stopped working, and the sun beating down overhead made her dizzy. "What do you want?"
"Your ten speed," Stacey said. Her dirty blond hair hung limply over her eyes, and she brushed it back with thin hands while sitting on her old rusty bike.
"No," Cedes said. Her parents had just given her that ten speed bike for her birthday replacing her old one she had sense she was seven. She wasn't giving it up without a fight.
The boy who had a death grip on her back wheel growled at her. "Then maybe we'll just take it."
She turned to him. "You can try, I guess."
Everyone oohed and aahed at her words, but she was shaking so hard she could barely speak. Her voice came out breathy and weak, and her cheeks heated even more.
She made sure to keep one leg on the ground and one on a pedal in case she got the chance to take off. She wasn't stupid. But now they knew she was scared.
She looked back at Sam and kept her gaze there. She knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was. He was the boy mothers warned their daughters about.
Even at fourteen, he was built like one of those guys in the movies. Tall and lean with muscles that cut across his stomach and chest. A chest bared to the golden sun overhead.
He wore only a pair of swimming trunks that looked a little big on him and an old pair of sneakers. He sat deathly still on his bike, one foot on the ground, and let his green eyes travel the length of her. It was intense and a little scary.
The boy holding her wheel broke the spell Sam had her under. "You know how we like to have girls begging for mercy?" he asked the other kids, an eerie smirk slanting across his face. "We could have this Mercy begging for mercy."
Sam's cousins laughed, all five of them looking at her newly curved body.
Stacey, tiny for a twelve-year-old, dropped her bike, walked up to Cedes, and ripped the chain from around her neck. The one that had her house key on it.
She tried to grab it back, but Stacey was too fast. She walked backward, swinging the chain back and forth like a hypnotist, her smile evil as she stopped beside her brother. Then, without warning, she turned and dropped the key down the front of Sam's shorts.
Since they were swim shorts, the key must've caught in the fishnet lining, because they didn't fall through and land on the ground like she was hoping.
"Why don't you come get it?" Stacey said, probably hoping Cedes would get off the bike so she could take it.
The others jumped back on their bikes and whooped and hollered as they rode around them in circles, stirring up dust, waiting to see what would happen next.
Sam had yet to move, as though his psycho sister did that kind of thing all the time. As though it were normal.
The cousins yelled really helpful suggestions like, "Get it!" and "We dare you!"
"Go ahead," another said. "Don't be a chicken. Get the key."
Stacey crossed her arms challenging her with her look if not with her voice.
Cedes finally gave in. She drew her leg over her bike, grossing out at the stickiness between her fingers, and dropped it on the ground. Stacey's eyes glowed as Cedes walked toward Sam.
Without waiting a second longer, Stacey ran to the bike, hopped on it, and took off, but the boys stayed for the show. They all stopped riding and watched, their eyes just as hungry, just as greedy, but for a very different reason.
Sam didn't let go of his handlebars when she reached over and put her right, non-sticky hand on his stomach. But his muscles did tighten. His breath stilled as he watched her.
She bit her bottom lip and slipped her fingers down the waistband of his shorts.
His skin was hot and smooth. His stomach was hard. When her hand slid lower, he licked his lips.
"Come on, Sam," one of the older boys said, craving more. "Throw her down to the ground and kiss her. Make her beg for mercy."
Her heart beat so fast and so hard, she could hear her blood rushing in her ears, but she still didn't feel the key. She slid her hand even lower down his abdomen, so low another couple of inches and she'd be between his legs.
"Yeah, Sam," another boy chimed in, his voice soft as though mesmerized. "Get her on the ground. If you don't want her, we can take care of the rest. Look at those boobies she got. The biggest ones on any girl we've ever seen. They looked like the ones those porn stars have and she isn't fully grown yet."
Her fingertips dipped farther until he wrapped a hand around her wrist, the movement slow and calculated, effectively putting a stop to her exploration. He lifted out her empty hand then he reached down his shorts and brought up the key himself.
She reached for it, but he pulled it toward him. Not to be mean like Stacey, but to study it, his hair with its sun-streaked blond locks falling over his face. He was the kind of boy summers were made for.
"Can I please have it back?"
He ignored her, took the broken link, and re-clasped the chain, so she could wear it again. Then he lifted it over her head, put it around her neck, and examined his handiwork.
She didn't know what to do. Thank him? She'd still had her brand new ten speed bike stolen. She'd been threatened with physical violence from a pack of would-be rapists. And she'd touched, for the first time in her life, the boy she'd been crushing on.
Tears threatened to spill over her lashes. The last thing she'd wanted was for him to see her cry. This perfect boy who came from a crazy home. A home that had been broken for generations.
With her back ramrod straight, she turned and walked home, petrified and humiliated and more in love with him than she ever imagined possible.
She didn't see him again that summer. She'd heard from other kids around town that Sam spent most of his summers on the Shasta reservation, but they didn't know why.
Cedes did. Thanks to her parents, she also knew he almost died because of it. His mother hadn't been so lucky.
Sam's gaze finally landed on her and he paused, his expression incredulous, the sinew in his arms straining as he flexed. "Really?" he asked, the edge in his voice razor sharp. "Are you really trying to get even for that stupid stuff done to you when we were kids on your first day on the job as sheriff?"
Hunt started to come to her defense, but she couldn't let him. She needed to set the precedence for their interactions from here on out. "There's a girl missing," she said, her voice just as sharp. "We got a tip that she's been seen several times with your nephew, Stevie. We came to talk to him."
If Cedes had told him she was going to burn down his home and kill his family, she doubted he could have become more enraged. He stepped toward her, and both men closed in. Campion held up a hand, warning him to keep a safe distance.
The passenger got out of the truck. She couldn't be certain, but she thought he was one of Sam's cousins. This one looked like Jeff Menkins if she had her guess.
Sam took note of the shorter FBI agent at last, and the expression on his face told everyone just how unimpressed he was of the man.
"What are you pigs doing here?" the cousin asked.
Before she could ask Sam where his nephew was, an older man came out of the front door with Sam's sister, Stacey. She stopped walking when she saw the officers, but then she ran to Sam, her eyes like saucers.
"Did you find him?" When Sam didn't answer, she started screaming. "Sam, did you find him!" she shouted.
"What are you screaming about?" Cedes asked.
Stacey finally noticed Cedes specifically, and her face morphed into one of disgust. "What the hell is she doing here?"
"Stacey," Cedes began, but the woman lost it.
She bolted toward her and was only held back by her much larger brother.
Cedes kept one hand on her duty weapon, but showed a palm in surrender with the other. "We just need to talk to Stevie. He's not in trouble."
She tried to fling herself at Cedes again, but Sam held her back.
"They think Stevie's been hanging around with that missing girl," Sam said to her.
And Stacey went ballistic. She clawed and scratched at him, trying to get to Cedes. "How dare you!" she shouted. "He would never hang out with her. Those kinds of girls wouldn't give my son the time of day. But maybe that's why you're here." She stilled as shock took over. "You think he took her."
"We don't think anything, Stacey." Cedes worked hard on keeping her tone soft but confident. "We just need to talk to him."
Stacey fought Sam's hold again until he pulled her against him and spoke into her ear.
She whirled around and gaped at him. "What do you mean?"
Sam let out a long breath, then said, "I lost his tracks in the snow. He's still up there."
Stacey plastered both hands over her mouth as fresh tears fell down her cheeks. She looked like she'd been crying all morning. "He'll freeze to death in those mountains."
"He knows that place better than I do. I'll find him, Stace," Sam promised as the older man came forward and put an arm over her shoulders.
She stiffened and shook him off before heading back inside the house. Just before she closed the door, she looked at Cedes and said, "Get that bitch and her entourage off this property."
It was nice to see nothing had changed. Cedes was still hated for no reason whatsoever, and Stacey was still a hellcat. At least she knew where she stood.
The slam echoed against the surrounding buildings, and Cedes turned to Sam. "What's going on?"
"We just came back for dry clothes. Jeff over there fell in the Lima River." He gestured toward the dipshit.
"You're searching the mountain. For whom?"
He tilted his head to the side as though stunned she would dare talk to him, his annoyance crystal clear.
When they were growing up, he seemed to like her. Well, like may have not been the right word, but he didn't hate her. They'd even started talking. He was one and half almost two years older, but after he'd graduated high school, she'd see him around here and there. It always made her day.
But in high school, Cedes was involved in . . . an accident. She spent a month in the hospital in a coma. Afterward, Sam kept his distance, even going so far as to ignore her when she called out to say hi. It was bizarre, and she didn't deserve his indifference, so she grew bitter and he grew bitter, and before she knew it, they were at an impenetrable impasse.
"Or I can bring you in for questioning," she said, her threat as clear as his whiskey. "If that would make this easier."
He kept his unwavering gaze trained on her face for a solid minute before he answered, "Stevie didn't come home last night."
Cedes released a disappointed sigh. Of course, she'd guessed instantly who they were talking about, but she'd needed confirmation. "Sam, I have a missing girl, and now a boy who's been seen with her is missing, too?"
Fury sparked in his sea-colored eyes. He leaned closer, putting Hunter on edge enough to step between them, and whispered just for her, "Just go to hell," before stalking into the house.
The cousin laughed, the sound strangely high-pitched like the jackals she'd considered Sam's relatives to be.
"Wow," Hunter said softly at her side. "He really dislikes you."
"Thanks for the reminder."
"No, seriously, what did you do to him?"
"Hey," she said to the cousin before he could follow Sam inside.
He grinned. "What is it, little girl? You think I'm going to give you information when Menkins wouldn't?"
Even the other family members called him Menkins. "Why do you call him that?" she asked. He flipped her off and tried to walk away again, but she asked, "How long has he been missing?"
The guy turned back, and she could tell his concern was real. "Since yesterday afternoon." He looked back at the house, checking to see if anyone was watching. "We think he went out and got caught in the storm yesterday."
"You should have called us."
"Yeah," he said, chuckling. "Because the law enforcement officers of Lima Springs have always been helpful to our family."
She lifted a shoulder. "It is now. You could do something crazy and give me a chance to prove it."
He wore the very definition of a shit-eating grin before he turned and followed his younger cousin inside.
With little choice, Cedes climbed back into the SUV. Hunter followed, but Campion stayed back.
"You're just going to let this go? It's the only lead you have."
"I have no intention of letting it go, but I know the Menkins family. The more we push, the more obstinate they become." She gestured for him to get inside. Once he was inside, she asked Hunter, "How fast can you get into protective clothing and get back out here?"
He smiled. "Depends on how long it takes you to get back to the station, Sheriff."
"Do they know your vehicle?" she asked him.
"Yep, but they don't know the Green Bomber."
"You still have your grandpa's clunker?"
"Clunker?" he asked, thoroughly offended. "Well, okay. But you have no idea how much action that old pickup has seen."
"Um, and believe me when I tell you, that I don't want to know."
"Jealousy is so unbecoming."
Campion leaned forward. "May I ask what we're doing?"
"Wait," Hunter said, cutting Campion off. "You are jealous, right?"
"Sam Menkins just happens to be the best tracker in the area," she said, ignoring her BFF. "Probably the entire state and quite possibly the entire country. If he's tracking Stevie and the only lead we have connects Ashlyn Caswell to him, we're following up on that lead."
Hunt urged her to drive faster, gesturing with his hand. "It won't take them long to change, eat, and get back out there."
"I'm hurrying," she said, trying to stay on the slippery road.
She didn't want to say it out loud, not with Campion there since he was such a dick concerning the note, but according to Ashlyn, there was a strong possibility the girl was being held somewhere in the mountains as well. Since that covered thousands of square miles, she'd stick with Sam for now.
"We just need to know where they're concentrating their efforts. We can get the search party started from there."
"How long will it take to get a search party going?" Hunter asked, already stripping.
"For now, it'll just be us. If you're up for it, Agent Campion."
He nodded. "Of course. I have a change of clothes in my car."
"It's too late to get a large party going. It'll be dark in two hours. I will stay here while the two of you follow the Menkinses. Hopefully, they will find Stevie and maybe Ashlyn. If not, then tomorrow, we can call in the volunteers and get an early start. And you might want to invite your twin, Hunt. She's amazing."
"That she is."
"His twin?" Campion asked.
"Fraternal twin sister," Cedes said. "Wait until you meet her. You can hardly tell them apart."
She and Hunter laughed softly, and Campion apparently decided not to go there.
The minute Cedes stepped inside the station, Dani handed her a file with everything they'd found at the Caswell house.
"No blood," Dani said, filling her in as Cedes examined the construction crew installing temporary wood panels at the front of the station. Which would certainly help with the heating bill. "But they did find a partial fingerprint. Abrams is bringing it in now. And they sent over a description of what Ashlyn was wearing the day before she disappeared. Mrs. Caswell can't find those clothes, so she could still be in them."
"And the photo? It looks like something printed off the internet."
"It is from an ad off the internet. That's the backpack the button came from. She could have it with her."
Cedes studied the list and the photo. "Dani, you are awesome. Get this out to everyone."
Dani lowered her head, unused to such compliments, then turned to Campion as he scanned the file over Cedes's shoulder. "Mr. Caswell is home. He wants an update."
Her words seemed to irritate the agent if the straight line across his face where his mouth used to be were any indication. She could hardly blame him. Mr. Caswell was used to getting his way because of his money. That wouldn't get him far with a hardworking field agent.
"Would you mind calling him for me, Dani?" He took his clothes and followed Hunter to the locker room.
"What should I say?"
"Tell him I'll call him when I have something."
Dani shrugged and went back to her desk to make the call.
Cedes watched him go. Smart. Assertive. Fine. Fearless.
All qualities she liked in a man.