Rock Harbor Search and Rescue

  They piled into Bree’s SUV. A few minutes later, both Samson and Charley were securely contained in their crates, and they were on their way to the forest.

  The storm front pushed out the bright autumn weather and replaced it with a cold drizzle as they drove toward the park.

  “It’s going to be cold and wet,” Emily said. “Will that make it harder to find Pansy?” Not to mention that it’d be dark soon.

  “No, the dogs will love it. The moisture in the air will help them.” Bree pulled into the parking lot next to the picnic area and turned off the vehicle.

  Emily jumped to the ground and went to let the dogs out. None of the other team members were there yet, but other searchers milled around the area. Emily’s cheeks heated when she recognized Brandon pushing aside branches and calling for Pansy. What was he doing here?

  Mrs. Cooper saw them coming and rushed toward them. Slender with fine blond hair and green eyes, she looked frantic. “You’ve got to find her, Bree.”

  Her face was wet, and it wasn’t from the rain. Samson whined and pressed against her leg as if to offer comfort. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in his fur.

  Bree put her hand on Mrs. Cooper’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. Any sign of her at all?”

  Mrs. Cooper shook her head. “Some of the Ojibwa who were here for a tribal picnic have been helping me look, but they won’t stay once the sun goes down. They say that the Windigo lives here and prowls after dark.”

  Emily straightened. The Windigo lived in this particular section of woods? The news made her shiver, despite her not believing the legend. Brandon’s convictions gave her the willies.

  “Do you have a scent article?” Bree asked Mrs. Cooper.

  Mrs. Cooper raised her head and nodded. “I’ll get it. I’ve got a paper sack to put it in.”

  The rest of the team began to arrive while they waited for Mrs. Cooper to return. Brandon came toward Emily. “You’re here to search for the kid?”

  She nodded, suddenly tongue-tied.

  “Me too.”

  “You’re not afraid? I heard some of your people wouldn’t search here after dark because of the Windigo.” Emily could have bitten off her tongue. Had she just insulted him and his heritage?

  He shrugged. “I’m perfectly safe. Can I come with you and your dog?”

  Interesting, since he’d said just days ago that he believed in the Windigo. Why wasn’t he worried? Had he just been messing with her before? “Uh, sure.”

  Mrs. Cooper returned with the bag. Once she had the search article, Bree sent her team out to search the area. With Charley on a lead, Emily and Brandon followed her and Samson into the open field next to the house. Emily glanced at the darkening sky and winced. The storm clouds obscured what little daylight remained and made the interior of the forest even darker.

  Bree must have noticed because she nodded. “Hypothermia sets in quickly in these conditions. An added problem is the thickness of the forest. The trees are so close together it’s hard to walk through it.”

  The dogs sniffed the scent article, a jacket Mrs. Cooper had put in the paper sack. Samson sniffed the bag and began to wag his tail. Bree let him off his leash. He crisscrossed the field with his nose in the air then headed toward the woods across the road.

  “He’s got her scent!” Bree took off after him.

  Charley tugged away from Emily and whined. She released him from his leash, and he raced after Samson. Emily jogged after him with Brandon beside her. They entered the woods, and their progress slowed. Brambles tore at Emily’s jeans, and she had to force her way through the thick tangle of vegetation. Crushed evergreen needles filled the air with pine scent.

  The dogs began to bark, then Samson came running back to Bree with a stick in his mouth. Charley was right behind with a stick as well. “They’ve found her!” Bree petted her dog. “Show me, Samson.”

  “Good dog,” Emily crooned to Charley. Her heart pounded. So this was the adrenaline high Naomi had said they all felt after a successful search.

  Samson, his tail waving proudly, led them toward a stand of white pine trees. The branches drooped close to the ground. Emily couldn’t see into the thick branches, but the dog stopped in front of them and barked. He whined and pressed into the branches. Charley raced around the tree, barking as well. There was a heavy scent of pine.

  Bree stooped and peered under the trees. “Pansy, are you there?”

  She parted the boughs and shined her flashlight into the shadows under them. The eight-year-old girl sat on a bed of pine needles, her eyes red from crying. Bree’s voice went soft. “There you are, Pansy. We’ve been looking for you. Are you trying to stay dry under there? I have a slicker for you.” She pulled the yellow plastic garment from her backpack.

  Pansy began to cry. “I was scared, Miss Bree. I prayed and prayed you’d bring Samson to find me.” She crawled on her hands and knees out from under the trees. Once in the open, she brushed the debris from her jeans. She looked pale, and she was shivering.

  Emily whisked a solar blanket from her ready-pack and wrapped it around the little girl, securing it snugly.

  “Let’s get you back to your mother,” Bree said, taking Pansy’s hand.

  Emily exchanged a smile with Brandon. “Well done,” he whispered.

  His hand brushed hers. Was it accidental?

  As the group exited the woods, the searchlights blazed into the darkness. Emily caught a glint at Brandon’s neck. She stared. Her heart thumped faster as blue shimmered under his Adam’s apple.

  Was that Mrs. Dancer’s Sapphire Beauty?

  Emily’s mouth went dry. She didn’t want to believe it, but she was sure it was the necklace. She’d studied it carefully when she’d been making her copy. What Brandon wore sure looked like the original.

  Why would Brandon be wearing the missing necklace?

  TWENTY-ONE

  The storm rolled out as quickly as it’d rolled in. According to the news Emily had watched earlier in the evening, the weather forecast would be clear and sunny tomorrow. Good thing, since the surfing championship would start in the morning.

  She yawned and got up from the sofa. “Night, Dad. Night, Naomi.” Timmy and Matthew had gone to bed an hour earlier.

  “Wait just a second, honey.” He patted the cushion next to him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  She eyed his serious expression and sat down between him and Naomi. “What’s wrong?”

  He glanced at Naomi, then sighed. “There’s no way to say it except just to say it. Your mother is out of prison.”

  Emily sprang to her feet. “What?! You promised, Dad! She can’t come back here. She just can’t.”

  Her dad took her hand and tugged her back to the sofa, then put his arm around her. “I’m going to protect you, Emily. You and your brother. I’ve got a restraining order on her. I don’t think she’ll come back here.”

  “She called me, though. She’ll come. I know she will.” She started to shake, and her eyes filled with tears. She burrowed into the safety of her daddy’s arms.

  He’d try. She knew he’d do his best. But her mother was sneaky and dangerous.

  “I’m going to be watching for her. I’m not going to let her hurt you or Timmy again!”

  Naomi scooted over to join in a group hug. “We’ll all be careful, honey. And we’ve warned the sheriff.”

  “Let’s pray together,” her dad said.

  Emily listened to his deep voice pray for protection for their family. The words comforted her as she lay with her head on her dad’s chest. “Amen,” she whispered.

  Naomi kissed her. “Good night, honey. Rest in God’s protection.”

  Emily nodded. “I will.”

  She went to her room and shut the door, then tried to relax so she could sleep. Tomorrow would be busy. Unfortunately, her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. As if the necklace around Brandon’s neck wasn’t bad enough, now she had her mother to deal with.

  On
his little bed beside Emily’s, Sherlock whimpered in his sleep as his paws jerked. She smiled. Her puppy probably dreamed of chasing Charley and Samson around. Only a few days in the family and already Emily loved him so much. She couldn’t wait to get him enrolled in official training.

  Emily rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, and began praying aloud. “God, it’s me. Pastor Lukkari told us to talk to you like we do our friends, so that’s what I’m doing.” She licked her lips. “I know Dad and Naomi want to protect me and Timmy, but I’d sure appreciate it if we didn’t have to deal with my mother at all.” She paused, listening to the thunder off in the distance. “I know your commandment tells me to honor my father and mother, but that’s really hard. Especially when honoring one can mean dishonoring the other. How do I do that? What do I do if she shows up?”

  No booming voice came down from the sky with an answer.

  She let out a long sigh and flipped to her side. Maybe God was trying to get her to figure things out on her own. There was so much jumbled in her mind: her mother, Timmy’s nightmares, the missing necklace, Mrs. Dancer’s reward, Rachel, Brandon, Sherlock . . . It all tangled into one big knot.

  Her cell phone vibrated. She grabbed it and pushed the button to view the text message from Olivia: u up?

  She texted back: y

  Her phone rang. “Hey, what’s up?” Olivia greeted her.

  “You won’t believe it.”

  “What?” She could hear the concern in Olivia’s voice.

  Emily told her about her mother’s parole. “So keep a lookout with me, okay? I don’t want her anywhere near Timmy.”

  “I will, Em. Wow. But I’m sure your dad is going to protect you.”

  “He told the sheriff too.”

  “That’s good. Gosh, it’s just one problem after another. Do you really think Brandon had Mrs. Dancer’s necklace on?”

  Emily rubbed her eyes and scooted to a semi-sitting position against the pillows propped on the headboard. “I don’t really know now. It was dark, and the storm was rolling in. The searchlights were bright. Too bright.” Maybe she’d been wrong.

  “But?”

  “I don’t know.” She picked at the Kool-Aid stain on her fleece pajama bottoms. “It looked like it, but then again, so did my copy. I don’t want to say anything to him until I’m certain it’s the real necklace.”

  “Are you trying to convince me of that, or yourself?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A long silence fell over the connection.

  “Okay, if it was, why?” Olivia asked.

  “I haven’t figured that one out.”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Yeah?” Emily could just picture her best friend. Olivia would be sitting cross-legged in her bed, tapping the end of her nose.

  “If Mrs. Dancer knew her nephew had taken the necklace, she could offer the reward without worrying about ever having to pay it.”

  That didn’t make a lot of sense. “I’m not following. If she knew Brandon took it, and I’m not saying he did, why would she bother offering a reward in the first place, whether she had to pay it or not?”

  “In the beginning, who was your first suspect?”

  “Mrs. Dancer.”

  “Right. And what did you think her motive was?” Olivia asked.

  Emily thought about it for a second. “Well, because she got a lot of publicity, which made her stuff sell more. Inetta said it increased her sales. And then Inetta did the second article on her about the reward money, so I imagine her sales picked up again.”

  “Right. So if she took her own necklace for the publicity, offering a reward didn’t matter, because she’d never have to pay it.”

  “So why do it?”

  “To get more attention. Mr. Farmer probably wouldn’t have had Inetta do that second interview if she hadn’t offered the reward. Nothing new on the case wouldn’t have been exactly newsworthy.”

  True. She had a point. However . . . “But if Brandon took the necklace . . . how does that tie in?”

  Olivia let out a heavy breath. “I haven’t worked that one out. Maybe it wasn’t the Sapphire Beauty but something that just looked like it.”

  As if Emily hadn’t tried to tell herself that a gazillion times? But the truth was, he’d had on the Sapphire Beauty, or a really good imitation. Better than Emily’s. “It was. I’ve tried to reason myself into believing that because I don’t want to believe Brandon stole from his own aunt, but I can’t. It was the Sapphire Beauty.” And tomorrow she’d have to tell Sheriff Kaleva.

  But she’d give Brandon the chance to tell the sheriff himself first. She’d give him the opportunity to explain, something no one had given her.

  “Well, wh—hang on.” Voices muffled. “I gotta go. Mom said if I don’t go to bed now, I’ll never get up on time to watch the first phase of the competition tomorrow. Night.”

  “Bye. See you in the morning.” Emily set her phone on her bedside table and inched herself back down into the bed.

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax and go to sleep. She peeked at the clock with one eye: 10:13. Rolling over to her stomach, she punched her pillow underneath her head.

  Sherlock whimpered in his sleep again.

  Off in the distance, she could barely make out the last echoes of thunder.

  Emily checked the clock again: 10:17.

  She tossed over onto her side. Tucked the covers under her chin. Rubbed her nose when it started to itch.

  Footsteps thudded in the hall. Light spilled from the bathroom. A door clicked shut. A minute. Two. The toilet flushed. Water ran. Light filled the hallway for a second, then only the hall nightlight glowed. More footsteps back to Timmy’s room.

  Silence.

  She snuck another peek at the clock: 10:28.

  This was ridiculous. Emily shoved the covers off, was careful not to trip over her sleeping puppy, then headed to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of water would help.

  She took a sip from the bottle in the fridge.

  A soft whimper made her spin. Sherlock and Charley both stood in the kitchen doorway, Charley sniffing the puppy’s head.

  “Good boy, Charley, for hearing him.” She scooped Sherlock up into her arms. “Do you need to go outside, sweet boy?” She crossed to the back door and unlocked it.

  Charley growled.

  Emily set Sherlock down. “Well, you can go out with him, Charley.”

  The dog growled again as the puppy headed over the threshold. Charley barked and shot out the door. He barked again.

  Emily’s pulse thumped. What if something was in the backyard? Something that could hurt Sherlock? Her heart in her throat, she reached for the floodlights switch. She froze. What if it was the Windigo? Or even worse. My mother.

  “Honey, what’s wrong? I heard Charley.” Naomi appeared, the edges of her robe grazing the top of her slippers.

  Charley barked again.

  Emily jumped.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Naomi flipped on the lights.

  A raccoon jumped off the trash can and headed toward the back fence. Charley barked again. Sherlock, yipping, ran after the coon. Naomi whistled, and Charley immediately went to her. Sherlock raced behind.

  “Good boy.” Naomi gave Charley a rub behind his ears, then let him inside.

  Emily lifted her puppy into her arms and snuggled him against her neck as Dad stepped into the kitchen. “Is something wrong?”

  “We’re fine, honey. Dogs found a raccoon in the backyard is all.”

  He frowned. “You’re sure that’s all it was? I’m going to check.” He went out the back door.

  “Are you all right?” Naomi asked. “I don’t think your mom would have had time to get here.”

  “I guess you’re right. And it wasn’t just her. I let my imagination run away with me, I guess. All that talk about the Windigo.”

  Naomi didn’t smile. “You know that’s all just a legend, right?”

  “Sure.”
>
  “Good. Because God has you in his protection. Nothing can happen to you unless it passes through his hands first. You don’t need a necklace or anything else when you have God.”

  Of course Emily knew all that. Still, the reminder was a comfort tonight.

  Her dad came back in, but he was frowning. “I saw some footprints. I’m going to call the sheriff. Don’t you worry, though, honey. Whoever was out there is gone now.”

  My mother? Emily swallowed hard. “Should I sleep with Timmy?”

  Her dad smiled. “You’ve always taken good care of him, Em. I’m proud of you. But I’m here, and no one is getting past me. You try to get some rest.”

  Naomi kissed her cheek. “Tuck Sherlock in good. If he whimpers, just give him the chew toy Bree gave you, and he should fall back to sleep fairly easily.”

  “Good night.” Emily snuggled her puppy as she shut her bedroom door behind her and set Sherlock in his bed.

  Footprints. If not her mother, then who? A startling thought hit her: there was no doubt Brandon believed in the Windigo one hundred percent, yet he hadn’t been at all uneasy about searching in the woods where the Ojibwa believed the Windigo lived. Matter of fact, when she’d asked him about being too scared to stay with the search for Pansy, he’d said he was perfectly safe. If he had the necklace that he believed could protect him from the Windigo, no wonder he hadn’t been worried.

  Emily crawled into bed, nearly sick to her stomach. She had no choice but to tell Sheriff Kaleva tomorrow. She could only pray Brandon had a logical explanation for everything.

  And that he’d forgive her for her suspicions.

  The sun rose brightly on Saturday morning, just as the meteorologist predicted. Emily was glad. The surf team had practiced hard and deserved to compete. It’d be awesome if they could win.

  She hopped out of the Honda SUV and waited while Dad and Naomi got Timmy and Matthew out, then the large blanket. Too bad they’d had to leave Sherlock at home, but Charley bounded around, not seeming to be constrained by his leash in the least.

  The waves rolled in with a resounding crash every few minutes—a perfect day for surfing if you liked frigid water. The sections just behind the roped-off area were already filled with beach blankets and lawn chairs as people settled in for good placement to watch the surfers.