Shattered Secrets. Karen Harper

his mid-fifties, Reese had thinning auburn hair and a rising forehead—and usually a rising temper. Dealing with the man was one of the challenges of Gabe’s job, enough to sometimes make him wish he still headed up a bomb squad in Kirkuk.

      “Listen, Reese, I’ve called in outside help, and we’ll have a civilian search party fanning out in about half an hour.” He sat the man down on a bale of hay under an array of big yarn spiders and cobwebs, then perched beside him. “If you can handle the media while I head up the search, that will be a big help.”

      “Nothing’s going to help if this is that same SOB again. I mean, what are we, rural rubes, can’t track someone who’s struck more than once at the same time of year, then disappears until he wants another kid? I know you’re young and partly riding on your pa’s reputation, only in your first term, but—”

      Gabe interrupted him before he heard the rest. The last thing he needed from this man was to be blamed for any of this. That cut too close to his own guilt feelings for losing Teresa all those years ago.

      “That reminds me,” Gabe said. “I’ve got to call in Sam Jeffers and his hunting dog. I swear his hounds can follow any trail.” He dug his phone out of his utility belt and started skimming through his phone book on it. “Years ago, when Teresa was taken, the dog Sam had then got us partway across the field before the trail turned cold. And Sandy left a doll behind we can use to have him get the scent.”

      “I’ll bet you and Jace have obscured that by now.”

      “Mr. Mayor—how about you leave this to me and you handle the outsiders?” Gabe said, trying to keep his own temper in check. He hit the phone number for Jeffers. No answer, no voice mail option. The guy was always out hunting this time of year. He’d probably turned his ringtone off so as not to scare his prey; so maybe he couldn’t help. Gabe’s gut fear was that maybe nothing could.

      * * *

      Tess almost drove into the Hear Ye compound again on her way home but decided she was too upset to see her family right now, especially the little ones. To her surprise, her cousin Lee was sitting on the front steps of her house with a bicycle leaned against the porch pillar.

      “Lee!” she called as she got out and hurried toward him. He hugged her but didn’t look her in the eye. He seemed distracted and upset.

      “Is everyone all right?” she asked. “Did you hear what happened in town?”

      “That’s partly why I came to see you were okay. Reverend Monson announced it at the end of the church service.”

      “A church service on a Tuesday?”

      “Whenever it’s needed.”

      “I guess it would be good to have everyone together for an announcement like that, to pray for the child, comfort each other and all.”

      “Listen, you’re invited to come visit us.”

      “Oh, that’s great. I can’t wait to see the kids. I almost stopped there today, you know, just to be with my family,” she confessed as he pulled the bike away from the porch and held it between them. It was an old one with fat tires and scraped paint. He rode that here a couple of miles on these hills? She wondered why he didn’t use their car, but she didn’t want to seem to criticize.

      “And if you do come, can you help me with some dowsing?” he asked, his voice beseeching but his face worried. “I think I have a find, but I want to be sure if we’re going to drill for another well, and your power was always better than mine, even when you were so young. Both of us, a gift from our grandmother—and the Lord, of course.”

      “But I haven’t pursued water witching,” Tess insisted. Tears sprang to her eyes. How could anyone talk about things other than the missing girl right now? How could life go on when she must be in mortal danger?

      “Don’t ever call it water witching,” Lee said, giving his bike a shake when he probably wished he could shake her. “Water dowsing or, better yet, water divining. Like I said, a divine gift and not to be taken lightly. Tess, both your father and mine had the gift.”

      “My father quit doing it before he left.”

      “Yeah, well, it still meant something to him. His dried willow wands—branches—are still in a corner of the basement inside. That’s like an omen, a sign from God, so quit stalling.”

      “They’re downstairs? He kept them? But if I don’t feel comfortable helping, does that mean I’m not to see your family?” she challenged, finally realizing she felt hostile vibes. She always thought that Lee had wanted Gracie to steer clear of her as phone calls and visits had waned over the past few years. And as Lee had been more and more sucked into the religious group that Gracie had evidently, finally embraced too.

      “Sure, you can visit anyway,” he insisted, frowning. “I just would appreciate your help with the willow wand, that’s all. I’ll still hold it if you just want to watch. A new well would benefit everyone, you know, Kelsey and Ethan too.”

      He knew her soft spot for kids. Even as she agreed to help him tomorrow afternoon, she thought again of the little Kenton girl she’d never met, but—if she’d been taken—Tess’s heart and soul were right there with her.

      * * *

      When Tess heard on the radio that a citizen search team had fanned out from the gift shop until dark, she cursed herself that she’d fled the town so fast. She would have helped with that, even if people stared or whispered or—like Marian Bell—asked her what she remembered. Then again, the radio and television people, no doubt, newspaper reporters too, would be around by now. Only a few times over the years had a reporter or a true-crime author located her in Michigan and wanted an interview, which she and Mom had never agreed to, even though they could have used the money.

      As dusk descended, Tess stayed inside her house using only a flashlight to get around even when strangers knocked on her door, rang the front bell or called her name.

      Unfortunately, her posters in town worked against her when word got out that her phone number was on them. Hoping it would be Gabe on the phone, she answered her cell only to hear it was a reporter from Live at Five News from as far away as Cincinnati. She hung up without a word.

      She ate a cold dinner and drank cider—nothing tasted good—and sat with the curtains closed, huddled on the floor in a corner of the living room with her knees pulled up to her chin, ignoring the knocks on her front and back doors, her name being shouted by reporters. Then finally—finally—a voice she wanted to hear came from outside.

      “Tess, it’s Gabe! You in there? I’ve got everyone off your property. They went back into town! You’re not answering your phone. Tess?”

      She ran to the back door but peered out before opening it.

      She undid the bolt, the locks, and swung the door wide, only to have to unlock the storm door too.

      “Did you find her?” she asked as he came up the steps and entered. He closed and locked the door behind him. She leaned against the kitchen counter. She had almost done the unthinkable, throwing herself into his arms and holding on tight like a kid.

      “Wish I could say yes. The search and dragging part of the creek turned up nothing. Same story. Girl vanishes into thin air.”

      “Like me and Jill Stillwell—Amanda Bell too.”

      “Yeah. In broad daylight, without a cornfield, with her mother in the next room and while you and I were talking on Main Street.”

      “You...you don’t think it was some sort of challenge or message to you or me. That someone else was taken so close to when I was?” she asked.

      “No, I didn’t mean that. I’ve been comforting her family and getting the personnel we need here to find her fast. And it must have been someone she knew because she didn’t make a peep, even if she was—is—a friendly kid. Tess,” he said, stepping closer and taking her hands in his big,