We'll Never Tell (Secrets of Ravenswood) (2 page)

Sam shook her head so
hard it snapped. “We’ll never tell.”

He let go of Darby, and
she stumbled forward into Sam’s arms. “You better not. Ravenswood’s a small
town. It’ll be a piece of cake to find out who you are.” He stepped deeper into
the shadows. “Don’t do anything stupid. Got it?” Turning, he ran into the
night.

“Got it,” Sam whispered.

****

Kneeling on the ground,
Sam dug through her backpack. Everything was in it— sleeping bag, food, water,
an extra jacket, flashlight, bug spray—everything but her journal. She bit her
lip. She’d written personal stuff in there, stuff about how bad she felt when
her parents left on one of their endless trips without her and Wyatt. She’d
written pages and pages about Darby and Juliette, how they cared more about her
than…

She jerked the zipper
closed with a hard yank and shrugged the pack onto her back. If the man from
the campfire was the one who took her journal, he knew all about her and her
friends. She let out a shaky breath. She’d wanted to ask one of the other girls
to come with her to look for the pack, but Juliette had a ballet class and
Darby was helping her mom with some project.

Crossing her arms over
her chest, she pushed her way through the undergrowth, following the trail of
broken branches they’d left the night before. Her steps slowed as she
approached the clearing. In her head, she knew the man was long gone, but her
heart thumped painfully, anyway. What if the woman wasn’t dead? What if she was
still lying there, bleeding, waiting for someone to help her…

After they’d reached the
safety of Sam’s room the night before, they’d argued for hours, debating
whether or not to tell someone what they’d seen. Sam wanted to go to the
police. Juliette had begged her not to, afraid of what
he
would do to
them if they did. Darby was on the fence, torn between emotion and duty.
Finally, she’d sided with Juliette. It had been almost a relief, having the
decision taken out of her hands. The three of them pinky swore on their
friendship never to say a word.

Sam stopped walking and
blinked. This was the right place, wasn’t it? The area looked the same, except
there wasn’t a fire pit. Holding her breath, she crossed to the middle of the
clearing and pushed at the lumpy earth with the toe of her running shoe. Down
under the dirt, she stirred up soggy ashes. Her breath whooshed out.

He’d buried the fire.
What
else did he bury?

Her legs shook as she
hunted through the nearby woods, but all she found was a few blackened rocks
scattered in the underbrush. None of them was covered with blood. The man had
taken the woman away with him. She’d only been hurt, not dead.
Not dead… Not
dead…
Sam pressed her hands against her face and forced back tears.
Bending, she picked up her pack.

The force of the blow
knocked her flat. She screamed and rolled.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Off! Get off her, Max.”

The voice penetrated the
fog of fear, and Sam slowly opened her eyes. Soft brown spheres stared back
from a furry face. Her tense muscles relaxed, and she sagged in relief. The
half-grown yellow lab licked her face.

“Gross.” She wiped
slobber off her cheek with the back of her hand.

“I said off!”

The dog jerked backward,
and Sam pushed herself onto her elbows. Red stained the cheekbones of the boy
looking down at her. He had longish dark hair and eyes the color of the sky.
Faded jeans and a T-shirt with a rip at the hem covered his lanky frame.
Recognition hit her, and she scowled up at him.

“I’m really sorry.”
Leaning down, he offered her a hand.

She clasped it, and let
him pull her to her feet. “Way to control your dog, Ethan.”

The red in Ethan
Thorne’s cheeks deepened. “He’s still a puppy. Did he hurt you?”

Sam brushed off the seat
of her shorts and glanced down at her dirt streaked legs. “I’m filthy, not hurt.”

They looked at each
other, neither speaking. Ethan was three years her senior—fifteen, the same age
as her brother. While the two boys weren’t exactly friends, she’d seen him
around often enough. But never this close. Those blue eyes studying her so
intently sent a little quiver through her.

“Are you sure you’re
okay? You look kind of pale.”

Reality smacked her in
the face, and she swayed. For the last five minutes she’d forgotten all about
the woman who might or might not be dead, about the man who’d threatened them.

Ethan reached out a hand
to steady her. At his feet, the dog whined.

Sam squared her
shoulders and felt a hint of regret when he let go of her arm. The back of her
neck heated, and she bent to scratch the dog’s ears. “I’m fine.”

“What are you doing out
here all by yourself?”

The urge to tell him, to
share the burden of knowledge, hit hard. She choked back the words trembling on
her lips. “Nothing much. What’re you doing?”

“Trying to train Max.”

Sam’s lips curved as she
pushed a limp strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I’d say he’s a work in
progress.”

“Yeah.” Ethan looked
down at the dog before raising his eyes to meet her gaze. “If you’re sure
you’re okay, I guess I’ll go.”

She nodded. “I’m fine.
Just fine.”

Seventeen Years Later…

The ringing wouldn’t
stop. Samantha Beaumont slapped the alarm clock, knocking it to the floor, but
still the sound went on and on. A tsunami warning…
God, not again.

She swung her legs out
of bed, feet hitting soft carpet instead of straw matting. Taking a deep breath
to still her pounding heart, she shook herself fully awake. She was in her
bedroom at Ravenswood, not in a South Pacific hut…

The phone rang again,
and she jumped, hitting her elbow on the nightstand. Her gaze flew to the
upended alarm clock. Who would be calling her at five-thirty in the morning?
Grabbing the receiver, she punched the talk button.

“This better be good.”

“Afraid not. I heard you
were back in town.”

“Ken?” Sam rubbed her
eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Lost hiker.”

She slumped against the
pillows, picturing the twitching gray moustache and concerned brown eyes of
Ravenswood’s fire chief. Ken Reeves was an institution. Heading up the local
search and rescue team in addition to his duties as fire chief, the man could
out hike and outlast most of the men on his crew, despite having celebrated his
sixtieth birthday the year before.

“I don’t work for you
anymore.”

“More’s the pity.” His
sigh whistled through the phone line. “We could use the help. Some idiot
tourist went off on his own yesterday and didn’t come back to the hotel last
night. His wife’s description of his itinerary is, and I quote, ‘North, I
think.’”

“Terrific.”

“Are you game? We’re
meeting at the fire station at six sharp. It’ll be light enough to see by
then.”

Sam yawned. “Sure. I’ve
been home for a grand total of twenty-four hours. Looks like my vacation’s
over.”

“Vacations are
overrated.”

The dial tone buzzed in
her ear. Smiling, she dropped the receiver onto the cradle and headed for the
shower. Twenty minutes later, with her gear packed, she let the kitchen door
slam shut behind her.

Birds chirped in the
tall pines that crowded around the little cabin tucked into the far corner of
her parents’ estate. The sun crept above the surrounding mountains, casting the
gray light of dawn across the valley. Wisps of pale blonde hair blew around her
face, stirred by the morning breeze. Shaking it out of her eyes, she walked
quickly down the long drive. The main street through Ravenswood was mostly
deserted. The only signs of life were two cars parked in front of the café and
half a dozen pickups left in the empty lot next to the fire station, her
current destination.

The side door creaked
when she opened it. Male voices rumbled overhead. Bounding up the stairs, Sam
walked into an open room filled with tables and chairs, most of them occupied.
Ken Reeves leaned against the south facing window, his arms crossed over his
barrel chest. He stopped speaking, glanced up at the institutional clock on the
wall opposite him, and raised one shaggy brow.

Six-oh-five.

Sam grinned. “Shoot me.”

His moustache quivered.
“Welcome home.”

“Thanks.” She spread her
arms wide. “A party, just for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Deep male laughter
echoed around the room.

“Pull up a chair while I
bring you up to speed—” He broke off, and both brows shot up this time. “Well,
well, look who the dog dragged in.”

“Sorry I’m late. I had
to feed the beasts before I left the house.”

Sam spun around. A man
stood at the top of the stairs, tall and lean with longish dark hair and the
bluest eyes… A yellow lab sat at his feet. She swayed, unexpected memories
surging.

“Ethan,” she croaked and
cleared her throat.

Ethan Thorne stared back
at her, his lips quirked in a hint of a smile. “How’s it going, Sam? It’s been
a few years.”

Five years and two
months, but who’s counting.

“Yeah, it has.”

“Enough chit-chat you
two. Glad you could join us, Ethan.” Ken pointed at a photo tacked to the bulletin
board. “Our lost hiker has been out in the mountains overnight, and while it
didn’t get anywhere near freezing, there’s the possibility of injuries.
Unfortunately our search area is a broad one. He could be anywhere.”

“Then let’s go find
him.” The husky boy who spoke didn’t look old enough to shave. His voice rang
with enthusiasm.

The kid was new to the
team. Sam rolled her eyes, feeling every one of her twenty-nine years. Had she
ever been that naïve…

“Partner up and choose a
grid. Our hiker’s name is Barry Rutledge. Grab a photo from the stack.” The
fire chief pointed to the front table. “Someone out backpacking may have seen
him. Everyone stay in close contact. You know the drill.”

Chairs scraped across
the floor as men bent to pick up their packs. At a light touch on her arm, Sam
turned. Ethan looked down at her, long-lashed blue eyes intent. She was
five-nine in her socks, but he topped her by half a foot.

“You want to team up
with me and Sadie?”

She glanced at the dog
and let out a slow breath. “Sure.”

They picked up their
gear, and she grabbed a picture of the hiker while Ethan chose a grid to
canvas.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. They left
after the others, boots thumping down the stairs. Sam paused when they reached
the street. “Where’re we headed?”

“The area below Prophet
Point.” Turning north, Ethan fell in beside her as they headed into the woods.
The yellow lab led the way.

“Sadie? You still had
Max when we—”

She bit her lip. What
could she say? Hooked up for a night of wild sex after too many margaritas at
one of Ken’s famous barbecues? She didn’t have one night stands. Lately, she
rarely had time for dates, period, let alone relationships that lasted beyond
the getting to know each other stage. After that night, she’d made a point of
avoiding Ethan when she was in town. Hadn’t she? Or was the reason she hadn’t
seen him in five years and two months because he’d made a point of avoiding
her?

“Max lived to be
fourteen.” He shot her a quick smile that lit up his incredible eyes. “He was a
great dog once he got over the habit of knocking people down when he greeted
them. Sadie’s young, only three years old, but she’s one of the best search and
rescue dogs I’ve raised. She has superb focus.”

“How’s business?”
Better
to talk about work than anything more personal.

“Improving. It’s not
just California ski areas getting their avalanche rescue dogs from me now, and
I’m supplying several international outreach organizations with dogs.
RAW
had a lot to do with that, I think.”

Heat crept up Sam’s
neck. “I may have put in a good word for you at
Relief Around the World
corporate offices. Your dogs are the best at what they do.”

He pushed a longish hank
of hair off his forehead. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The man needed a
haircut. Sam let her gaze drift across his pilling fleece jacket to faded
jeans, ripped at both knees. “You know, if you made an effort to present
yourself a little more professionally…” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of
her windbreaker and kicked a pinecone out of the path. “No offense, but
earthquake victims in third world countries dress better than you do.”

He laughed. “None
taken.”

She stared straight
ahead. “Don’t you have a girlfriend who could buy you some decent clothes?”
Juliette would have mentioned it if he’d gotten married. She was the only one
Sam had told about her—indiscretion.