Page 2 of Glimmer in the Darkness

She started on the trail that had become familiar. If she could start higher up, this would be so much simpler. If she could camp overnight on the mountain, she’d surely have found the cave by now. But the ghosts were too close.

What she needed was help. As with everything she’d ever done, Cassidy would have to do this alone.

She hiked through the forest until she caught sight of the campground on the edge of the lake. Pulling the bill of her cap low and pushing her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose, she made her way along the narrow path that led past the tents and RVs. James’s old familiar house was on the other side, but the forest was too thick to see it, the trail that led there overgrown. It was probably a good thing she couldn’t see the property, but who could blame her for wanting a glimpse at the one place she’d ever felt loved?

She kept her shoulders back, pretending to belong.

The story of her life. Though, to be fair, Cassidy had found a place to belong. She’d built a life for herself in Seattle, far from the memories and accusations. She’d graduated from high school, earned a bachelor’s degree in counseling, and gotten a job helping at-risk youth, girls like the one she’d been. Young women who’d run away or been discarded by their families, who had nothing and nobody. Ever since little Hallie’s death, Cassidy’s life had been about finding and saving lost girls.

A few children played on the playground while four preteens smacked a volleyball on the sand court. Adults occupied benches and picnic tables, some sipping from mugs or picking at muffins. Beyond the little building that housed the communal bathrooms, a few kids already splashed in the lake. The sandy beach was busy with walkers, joggers, and early sunbathers. Laughter, chatter, and a faraway motorboat created the perfect soundtrack for the vacation day. One would never know a child had been snatched from a home just a few miles down the road.

Cassidy left the vacationers behind and hiked the trail she’d climbed the previous two days, trying to focus on the here and now and not the fears that haunted.

Thirty minutes into the hike, she left the marked trail, relying on old memories she’d worked so hard to bury. All she had to do was steer clear of anybody who might recognize her and keep hiking, keep searching. Little Ella was out here somewhere. Maybe today would be the day Cassidy would find her.

Chapter Three

James Sullivan stayed at the edge of the crowd, watching the press conference and battling memories best left buried. Memories of his parents standing on those same steps while James hovered off to the side, trying to be invisible. Dad saying the same things then that Reid was saying now.

James hoped that, this time, the outcome would be different.

When Reid finished talking and the police chief stepped up and fielded questions from reporters, a lot of the onlookers wandered away.

People James had known most of his life were interspersed with newcomers and curious tourists.

A few faces jumped out at him, mostly because, though they were trying not to be obvious about it, they were watching him. The high school principal, Mr. Flores, who’d been the vice principal back then, averted his gaze the instant James noticed him.

Tip Dion, the manager at the restaurant James owned but rarely visited, lifted a hand in greeting but wore no smile. Tip should be behind the coffee counter at The Patriot, not standing on the sidewalk out front.

James had gone to school with others in the crowd, and there were parents of old friends, people who’d known his family for years. Some waved, some just nodded. What did they expect of him? To dissolve into tears? To raise his fist in anger?

The urge to turn and walk away was strong, but he tamped it down. This wasn’t about him, despite all the looks. This was about Reid and his missing daughter.

Sweet little Ella, who kissed James’s cheek and made him play with dolls whenever he went to Reid’s house. Ella, who loved to be swung around in the yard like a monkey. Ella, who trusted James and Reid and her grandparents to protect her. Who’d learned too young that the world was a very dangerous place.

Please, let her still be alive.

The prayer slipped from his heart before he could stop it. He’d been doing that a lot lately—accidentally praying, forgetting that God didn’t answer his prayers.

On the far side of the crowd, Wilson Cage hung on the police chief’s words. Both Wilson and his son Eugene had been suspects in James’s sister’s disappearance ten years earlier, mostly because their campground abutted James’s land and the trails. But there’d never been any real evidence linking them to the crime. At least none that James knew of. Of course, he hadn’t known everything. His parents had tried to shield him, as if more pain would have pushed him over the edge.

James didn’t flinch when a hand clamped on his shoulder. Lots of people had touched him that morning, spoken words of encouragement and solidarity. It should have helped.

Beside him, Vince Pollack dropped his hand. “How’s Reid holding up?”

“How do you think?”

Vince said nothing, his gaze scanning the crowd around them. Something snagged his attention, and James turned to see a little girl, about four years old, holding her mother’s hand.

So vulnerable. So innocent. Would she, or a child just like her, be the killer’s next victim?

A look of anguish crossed Vince’s features.

The police chief stepped away from the mic, and the mayor took center stage with a prepared speech.

“Why aren’t you up there?” James asked.

“You don’t think there are enough spotlight-loving windbags already?”