Cold Case at Camden Crossing. Rita Herron

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      Once again, he studied the pictures former sheriff Harold Simmons had taken of the accident. The bus was a mess, dented and crushed against a boulder in the ravine, flames shooting from all sides.

      Keith Plumbing, a local handyman had driven up on the scene and called it in. His statement said he’d first seen smoke, then stopped and realized it was a bus and called 911. He’d run down the embankment to rescue the students trapped inside, but by the time he reached the bus, it burst into flames. He saw Tawny-Lynn lying in the dirt several feet away. But no one else was around.

      Due to the fact that Keith called in the accident and had a history of drinking on the job, and he’d worked in Camden Crossing and Sunset Mesa, the sheriff questioned him as a person of interest. Plumbing could have caused the crash, then lied about the timing, dragged Tawny-Lynn out to safety but couldn’t save the others.

      Although he’d sworn he hadn’t seen Peyton or Ruth. And if he’d hurt them or kidnapped them, where had he taken them? He hadn’t had enough time between the time of the crash and when he’d called in the accident to dispose of a body.

      Another photograph showed Tawny-Lynn unconscious on the stretcher, her leg twisted, blood streaking her face and hands. She looked so pale and fragile that he wondered how she’d survived.

      Shaking off emotions he didn’t want to feel for her, he glanced at the list of suspects the sheriff had considered. Plumbing had been one. He’d also questioned Barry Dothan, a young man with a mental disability that affected his learning and behavior.

      Dothan liked to watch teenagers and took pictures of them on the track, swim team and softball field. But his mother swore that Barry was harmless, that he would never hurt a soul. The pictures of Ruth and Peyton posted on the corkboard above his bed were the only evidence that incriminated him. Some of the girls at school claimed they felt uncomfortable around him, but none of them had accused him of inappropriate behavior.

      Chaz downed the rest of his beer and grabbed another, pacing to calm himself. God, his heart hurt just imagining what might have happened to his sister and Ruth.

      He skimmed the former sheriff’s notes. The investigators they’d called in from the county had found remains of three girls and the driver in the ashes left after the bus had exploded.

      Ruth and Peyton were not among them.

      So what the hell had happened to them?

      Could Plumbing have had more time than they’d originally thought, time to kill the girls and dump their bodies somewhere?

      They’d searched the man’s truck. No girls, blood or forensics inside.

      They’d also combed the area surrounding the crash site for bodies, a dead end as well.

      Dothan didn’t seem smart enough to abduct two girls and hide them.

      But nobody else was there.

      There had to be, though—or else how had Tawny-Lynn escaped the burning bus?

      Peyton or Ruth could have dragged her out. But then what?

      Frustrated, he slammed his fist on the desk, rattling paper clips and files.

      He forced himself to look at the pictures of the two girls who’d gone missing from Sunset Mesa the year before. Almost the same time of year.

      Avery Portland and Melanie Hoit. Avery grew up with a single mother, worked at the ice cream shop and was voted most likely to succeed in her class. She was popular, on the dance team at school, and class president.

      Melanie was a cheerleader, pretty and aspired to be a model. Some of her classmates described her as the girl everyone wanted to be. A few others commented that she was a snob.

      But so far everyone they’d questioned had alibis.

      And neither girl had been found. No body. No ransom calls.

      Nothing.

      The parents wanted closure just as the residents in Camden Crossing did.

      He slumped down in the chair and glanced back at the photo of Tawny-Lynn. No wonder his parents and the other family members of the victims had turned on her.

      She might be the only lead they had.

      He understood people’s anger and frustration.

      But why would someone want to hurt her? Then she’d never be able to tell them who else had been there that day.

      The answer hit him like a fist in the gut.

      Someone didn’t want her to remember because there had been foul play.

      And if she could identify the culprit, she could put him or her in jail....

      * * *

      HE WATCHED THE house where Tawny-Lynn slept.

      The images of the girls who’d died tormented him. He hadn’t meant to kill them all. He loved them too much to do them harm.

      But things had gotten out of hand. Then everything had gone wrong.

      His gut churned with memories of the screams of those girls in the fire. That had been...terrible. He had nightmares to this day. He would never have wanted any of them to suffer like that.

      His heart was racing as he remembered the panic that had seized him when the bus had exploded.

      Ah, sweet Peyton. So easy to love.

      And Ruth... He’d wanted her so badly back then.

      Another few months and maybe Tawny-Lynn would have appealed to him, too. She did now.

      So sexy and athletic and that soft, blond hair... She’d turned out to be pretty after all.

      Too bad she might have to die.

      Chapter Six

      Tawny-Lynn couldn’t go back to sleep. She didn’t even want to go back to sleep, and relive the same old nightmare.

      If only she could recall the face of the person who’d rescued her.

      She climbed from bed, threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and yanked her hair back into a ponytail. The mammoth job of cleaning the rest of the house awaited her.

      But she needed coffee and food, and now that the kitchen was clean, she needed some groceries to get by on until she could make the necessary repairs to the ranch.

      She jogged down the stairs, but the sound of her sister’s voice called to her as if she was begging her to find her.

      She grabbed her purse and cell phone, then remembered her car was in the shop. She’d seen the keys to her father’s pickup somewhere. If it was still running, she’d take it into town.

      She glanced around the living room, daunted by the task she faced, then went back to the kitchen and remembered that СКАЧАТЬ