Forgotten Secrets (17 page)

“No thanks, Mom. I’ve got homework,” she lied and followed her sister up the stairs. By the time Madison reached the hallway, Riley had closed her bedroom door.

Through the door, soft sobs echoed. Madison knocked, barely making any noise. She didn’t want their mom to hear.

“Riley?” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Come on, Riley, let me in.”

The sobs stopped. Madison held her breath. The doorknob jostled. Riley opened the door, her eyes red, her face streaked. “What?”

Madison peeked into the room. A drawing of a blue and white waterfall, starting nearly at the ceiling, flowed down, ending with some brown rocks. It looked almost real. Birthday balloons floated nearby.

In the center was Riley—Madison could tell because of the shoulder-length hair and the bright purple ribbon tilted on Riley’s head. Madison was there, too. Mom and Dad—grinning. OK, that might not have been exactly how it happened.

“You did this by yourself?” Madison asked.

“Yes.” Riley crossed her arms, chin thrust out. “So what?”

“It’s really good.” With a grin, Madison walked over to the drawing of the birthday cake, candles lit.

“What’s your birthday wish?”

Riley bit her lip, then looked away. She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

Madison sat cross-legged on the floor. “Come on, Riley, tell me.”

Her sister took a deep breath and looked at Madison with sparkling eyes. “I wanna draw pictures when I grow up.” The words merged into one long one, Riley spoke so quickly. “I want to go to a museum and see my pictures on the wall.” She stared at the bucket and sighed. “I don’t want anyone to be able to wash them away.”

Riley dipped the sponge into the bucket. She straightened, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

With a quick step, Madison stepped in front of Riley. The soaking sponge hit her right in the chest. Riley’s eyes widened, and she winced. “I’m sorry, Madison. I didn’t mean to.”

Madison chuckled. “It’s OK, Ri-Ri.” She looked from the wall to Riley. “I have an idea.”

She ran to her room and grabbed the camera her parents had given her for Christmas. “You might not be able to keep your drawing, but we can take a picture. And keep it forever.”

Her sister grinned. “Really?”

Madison smiled. “Really.”

She used up half the roll of film before she was satisfied. “When can I see it?” Riley asked.

“Not until we use up the rest of the film.”

Riley frowned.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take a bunch of pictures at the pool today.”

“OK.” Riley’s voice was small. “I’d better get started. It’ll take forever.”

“I’ll help you,” Madison said, running to the bathroom. She paused at the soap dish where she’d dropped the charm bracelet earlier that morning. She clasped it around her wrist and returned with a bath sponge.

The two girls stood in front of the giant picture. “It really is pretty, Riley.”

Madison rubbed off the washable brown and black markers that had created the rock. She started singing “Puff the Magic Dragon,” making up her own words.

When things go bad, and life seems so unfair,

Just hold on tight with all your might, and I’ll always be there.

The song made Riley smile even as her masterpiece disappeared with each layer of soap and water.

Finally, the wall was blank.

“Do you think Mama will love me again if she sees the wall all clean?” Riley asked, her voice small.

“She loves you.”

“When I’m good.” Riley sat on the bed, but she didn’t flop down like usual. “Can you teach me how to be good, Madison? So Mama will love me as much as she loves you?”

Madison blinked a couple of times and toyed with the bracelet on her wrist. How was she supposed to fix this? Because even Madison could see Riley pushed Mom’s buttons without even trying.

“Come here, squirt.”

Riley got off the bed and swiped her eyes. “What?”

“We’re going to dance. It always makes me feel better.” Madison held out her hands.

Riley took them, and Madison started to sing, her feet moving in the box step her mother had taught her.

When things go bad, and life seems so unfair,

Just hold on tight with all your might, and I’ll always be there.

She twirled Riley around. Riley fell back onto the bed giggling.

Madison chuckled. “We need lots of practice.” She stared down at her little sister, whose eyes were still red from crying. “Tell you what? You can come swimming with me, and then we’ll figure out a plan.”

“To make Mama love me. Just a little?”

The words hurt Madison’s heart, but she pasted a confident smile on her face, even though she had no idea exactly how to keep her promise.

“After we’re through, Riley, Mom will love you the most.”

Pine trees lined the road to the Riverton mine. The scent permeated everything. Riley took in a deep breath and shivered. Why did the most evil people plant themselves in the most beautiful, remote places?

The answer was obvious. Because no one could hear the screams.

She gripped the armrest with a death hold. Thayne covered her hand with his own, giving her a quizzical look. They were heading up a mountain road into another remote location.

She’d been there, done that, just two days ago.

“You OK?”

“I’m not fond of lonely dirt roads with two-hundred-foot cliffs on one side and no guardrail,” she said, her voice dry.

“You should try the million-dollar highway in Colorado,” Thayne said. “This is nothing.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She glanced in the backseat. Shep sat, his back stiff, watching over Brett. He’d insisted on coming but now sagged against the door.

“How are you holding up?” Riley asked.

“Fine.” He gritted his teeth, and his hands shook.

Brett obviously wasn’t fine, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She faced front to give him some privacy from prying eyes. A glint on the side of the road grabbed her attention. Another camera, well hidden.

“More surveillance?” Thayne asked even before she could point it out.

“Cal’s company has contracts with Homeland Security. I test the unclassified prototypes. It’s a win-win. Just before your dad got sick, he arrested a group of rustlers that had been dogging all the ranchers in the area.”

“I never would’ve thought your brother would become a Silicon Valley giant. I don’t think he ever saw the high end of a C in high school.”

“He’s proud of that,” Brett said. “He liked knowing he was smarter than people believed him to be.”

Riley didn’t like the suspicions prickling her mind, and she had to press Brett. “Do both you and your brother hold stake in the ranch?”

“He owns forty-nine percent; I have fifty-one. Whoever stayed to work the land received controlling interest.”

“And you don’t resent him earning money off your work?” Riley pushed.

“Dad wanted it that way. I think he hoped Cal would come back someday.” Brett chuckled. “Besides, it’s a fair swap. I own forty-nine percent of his company since I helped fund the start-up.”

Thayne arched an eyebrow in Riley’s direction, and at that moment Brett paused, narrowing his gaze at her.

“I should have seen this coming.” His brow furrowed. “You want to know if Cal could have poisoned the water or kidnapped Cheyenne. First, he hasn’t been back to Wyoming in years. He has no motive for the former, and he was the keynote speaker at a big tech conference in Hong Kong over the last week. He couldn’t have done this.”

“He could’ve hired someone.”

“What’s he got to gain?” Brett challenged.

“With Cheyenne in the picture, you could have children. If you died without an heir, he gets the ranch.”

“Our money doesn’t come from the ranch, Special Agent Lambert. Cal’s company is worth billions. The ranch is small potatoes.”

Billions. OK, so money wasn’t a motive.

“I had to ask. Your relationship with Cheyenne puts a different spin on my profile.”

“Do you always assume the worst in people?” Brett asked.

Riley winced at the truth in his words.

“Back off, Riverton. Riley’s only focus is finding Cheyenne, so if she insults you, that’s just too bad.”

Thayne clasped Riley’s hand, squeezing it in support.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I understand.”

“Well, I don’t have to like it,” Thayne muttered.

Brett raised a brow. “Guess I’m not the only one with a clandestine relationship.”

Thayne’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. At least they were driving. She wouldn’t have to keep Thayne from knocking out Brett with one punch.

Fortunately, the sign to the Riverton mine loomed at the right, framed by aspens. A series of cameras pointed down.

“How long has the surveillance been active?” Thayne asked.

“We started with two cameras at the mine’s entrance.” Brett’s voice had turned gravelly with fatigue. “After I became sick, I added a few more.”

“Do you have images of this road for the last few weeks?” Riley knew if she could get ahold of that tape, they might finally have a concrete lead to follow.

“Yes. Part of Cal’s innovation was video compression technology. The cameras can record a year’s worth of motion-detected movement. No need to erase data nightly or weekly.”

Thayne let out a low whistle. “That technology could be a big help to law enforcement if it’s not cost prohibitive.”

“Cal’s made it inexpensive and reliable. He freelanced out the development. Said he paid through the nose, but the manufacturing costs are low.”

“You’re proud of him,” Riley said.

“Yeah, he thumbed his nose at his past and created a new future. I admire Cal for that . . .” Brett’s voice trailed off.

Riley glanced into the backseat. Brett’s eyes had closed. “Is he OK?”

“No. He shouldn’t have come.” Shep scowled. “Stubborn fool. He won’t let me call his brother. All Brett’s thinking about is Cheyenne, but he needs to take care of himself if he hopes to recover fully.”

Shep took in a wheezing breath, and a painful-sounding hack erupted from his lungs. He yanked a handkerchief from his pocket.

The coughing fit emitted from deep within his chest. Speckles of blood stained the white linen. Finally, it stopped. He pocketed the evidence and blinked to clear his watering eyes. “There’s a dirt road right beyond that big boulder at the top of the hill. Slow down. It’s barely visible.”

Thayne eased off the gas. A large rock at least six feet in diameter loomed a few hundred feet up the road.

“Is the lane always this deserted?”

Brett’s eyes fluttered open. “The Wyoming jade vein was tapped out before my grandfather died. There’s a bit of gold and quartz, but for the most part, we’ve opened it to tourists until the first snowfall. I closed it about two weeks ago because of the water contamination.”

“Well before Cheyenne was taken,” Thayne mused.

“Turn here,” Shep interrupted.

Thayne yanked the SUV to the left. “Damn, that came out of nowhere.”

“I warned you.” Shep held on to the back of Riley’s seat, his thin hands trembling with the effort.

The SUV rumbled onto a barely visible dirt road, grass nearly overgrowing the path. The vehicle rocked back and forth across the bumpy road.

“No wonder this place is deserted.” Riley catapulted up, her seat belt the only thing keeping her from hitting her head on the roof. “You guys came here to play when you were kids?”

“Horses are a much more direct route,” Thayne said.

“Two miles ahead,” Brett whispered, his voice barely audible.

Riley’s stomach roiled with each bounce. The road wound around hills following the flattest terrain, definitely not the most straightforward route.

Soon a large grove of pines appeared directly in front of them, in the middle of the road.

“Go around them,” Brett said, his voice even weaker.

Riley hoped the road ended near the waterfall because she had no doubt he wouldn’t be able to walk very far.

“It’s like we’re journeying into another world,” Riley said. The trees thickened into pine walls on either side of them, hemming them in in a claustrophobic prison. “Like civilization doesn’t exist.”

Thayne focused on the road, the vehicle slowing down as they went deeper and deeper into the woods. “Any cameras up here, Brett?”

He shook his head. “This place is private. Our . . .” He cleared his throat. “
My
sanctuary.”

The waterfall had been his and Cheyenne’s place. Their special place.

With no cameras—whoever took the photos of him and Cheyenne had known that.

The road ended with a rock outcropping jutting up from the ground.