Missing In Blue Mesa. Cindi Myers

mom walked with him to the door. “Thanks, sweetie.” She kissed his cheek again. “And don’t worry about me. That’s my job.”

      It was his job, too, now that his dad wasn’t around. Trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest, he returned to his cruiser. He couldn’t take away his mom’s or his own grief, but he could do whatever he could to make her life easier. She wasn’t like Michelle—alone with no one to defend her.

      * * *

      MICHELLE WOKE TO Hunter’s crying—a reassuring sound, since she had been having a dream in which he was lost and she couldn’t find him. She sat up on the side of her cot, groaning as pain radiated through her body, and the memory of last night returned, like a fresh blow. She put a hand to the tender, swollen flesh around her mouth, and carefully stood, then shuffled toward the crib.

      The baby was soaking wet, so she changed him, then sat on the side of the cot once more to nurse him. She was weaning him, but right now she needed this closeness, giving him something only she could provide. Asteria was nowhere in sight—not surprising, since she spent most of her nights lately with Daniel Metwater. Michelle held her son closely and replayed the events of last night in her head.

      She had been stupid to think Metwater wouldn’t lash out at her. Stupid to believe he would hand over the locket in exchange for her promise of silence. Not that she intended to keep that promise, but she was good at conning people. She had been doing it most of her life.

      But Metwater was a con, too. He knew how the game was played. And now that he knew she was on to him, she would have to be careful. She would have to make sure Hunter stayed safe.

      She brushed the hair from the baby’s forehead and he smiled up at her. Her heart clenched. Until she had had Hunter, she had had nothing—no one.

      She slipped a hand into her pocket and felt the business card the Ranger had given her. Ethan. A high-class-sounding name. Someone named Ethan probably wouldn’t drop out of school or end up in jail for boosting cars or dealing drugs, the way the boys from her neighborhood did. Ethan went to college. He got a job upholding the law instead of breaking it.

      Ethan didn’t look twice at Michelle Munson from the wrong side of town. But Ethan Reynolds had looked at her. She had stared into his eyes and felt that he was seeing her—not the cool, smart-talking tough girl role she had assumed before her age reached double digits, but the real her—the woman who had been hurt, who was fearful of a future she couldn’t control. Most of the time she forgot that woman even existed anymore, but somehow this cop had seen it.

      The knowledge made her feel vulnerable—a sensation she didn’t like. She was the only person she could rely on to look after herself and her son. That meant she couldn’t let anyone make her feel helpless. Daniel Metwater controlled people by making them believe they weren’t capable of making the right choices for their lives. They needed him to make those choices for them—to control their money and tell them when to eat and what to think. When she had first come here, she was amazed at how many people were willing to give up everything to someone who promised to make them feel good.

      The flap of the tent pushed open and Asteria ducked inside. She carried a cup of coffee and handed it to Michelle. “I thought you might need this,” she said.

      “Yes. You’re a saint.” Michelle took the cup and drained a third of it in one long swallow. At least the Prophet hadn’t made them give up coffee, the way he had talked them into giving up meat two days a week and cell phones and movies, and she had lost track of how much else. If she hadn’t promised herself she would do whatever she had to in order to prove that Cass was murdered, she would have left this place a long time ago.

      “How are you feeling?” Asteria sat on the cot beside her.

      “A little sore.” She watched Asteria out of the corner of her eye as she spoke. She had to be careful here. She couldn’t afford to upset Metwater’s biggest fan. “That was some fall.”

      “What were you doing at the Prophet’s trailer?” Asteria asked. “And don’t give me that lie about counseling.”

      “Why don’t you believe I went to him for counseling?” Michelle asked.

      “Because you’re not the counseling type. You don’t confide in people.”

      No, she didn’t. And even if she did, she wouldn’t reveal anything personal to a man like Metwater. She didn’t want him to know so much as her shoe size, in case he could find a way to use it against her. “I went there to complain,” she said. “The men in this camp are lazy bums who don’t do their share of the work. He needs to put some of them on kitchen duty, instead of making us look after the children and prepare all the meals while they sit around and wait to be fed.” She had no trouble getting into this rant, since it was one she had voiced before. The other women agreed with her, but none of them were willing to do anything about it.

      Most of the tension went out of Asteria’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t bother him with something like that,” she said. “Not late at night.”

      “It wasn’t that late.” She shifted Hunter to her other arm and took another drink of coffee. “Anyway, he wasn’t there.”

      “If he wasn’t there, why did you go inside?”

      “The door was unlocked. I only stepped into the living room and called for him. I mean, it wasn’t like I was going to go into his bedroom or anything.” She held her breath, hoping Asteria would believe her.

      “So you didn’t see him at all?”

      “No. I waited a few seconds, then turned and left. I must have caught my foot on the step on my way out.” The cop, Ethan, hadn’t believed that lame story for even a minute, but Asteria was buying it the way the former socialite would once have snagged a coveted designer gown in her size.

      “Did you see anyone else?” Asteria asked. “Either in the motor home or on your way there?”

      Someone else? That was an interesting development. “Who?” she asked.

      “Did you see Sunshine?”

      “Sunshine?” Starfall tried and failed to match a face to that name.

      “The girl who’s been hanging around lately.”

      Ah! The girl who had been shamelessly flirting with Metwater. Starfall saw where this was going now. “No, I didn’t see her,” she said. She hadn’t seen anyone but Metwater and his fist.

      “I knew those Rangers were lying,” Asteria said. “They told me that when they questioned the Prophet about what had happened to you, he told them he was with Sunshine. They were just trying to upset me so that I would tell lies about the Prophet.”

      If you’re sleeping with a guy, it’s probably okay to call him by his first name, Michelle thought, but she kept quiet. Asteria—the former Andi Matheson—had bought Metwater’s line about being a holy seer one hundred percent. She was his favorite follower—and also his wealthiest—and she couldn’t even see the connection between his favoritism and her money. “What kind of lies did they want you to tell?” she asked.

      “That he hit you. Which is ridiculous, because you know how much he hates violence.”

      Right. “I’ve heard him say several times that he hates violence,” she agreed. Though he had had no trouble trying to beat her brains in last night. She still wasn’t sure how she had managed to break free and run for the door. If the two Rangers hadn’t been standing right outside, would he have pursued her and maybe even killed her?

      She set down her coffee mug, suddenly sick to her stomach. “I need to take a shower,” she said. Some of the men had built a shower shack at the other end of camp. Water came from a plastic barrel that sat on top of the shack. The sun heated the water, and the plastic showerhead had an on-off switch that allowed the person showering to control the flow. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it wasn’t bad.

      “Do you want me to watch Hunter while you do