Backwoods

“Is he a good driver?” she asked.

Nathan doubted it. The only activity Leo put effort into was getting stoned. “He’s never been in an accident.”

“You don’t want cocoa, I take it.”

“No.”

“Club soda?”

“All right.”

She put her mug in the microwave and filled a pale green cup with ice, pouring the clear soda on top.

“Thank you,” he said, giving her another once-over as she stirred the cocoa. Her legs were shapely, with smooth, suntanned calves. The leather straps around her ankles resembled Roman slave cuffs. Surely they weren’t meant to inspire bondage fantasies. He tore his gaze away, sipping his club soda.

Looking at her like that was a bad idea. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start entertaining thoughts about wife-swapping and poetic justice. Not that Lydia cared who he slept with nowadays. Nathan felt no particular urge to try to make her jealous, either. Hooking up with Abby wouldn’t close the circle of betrayal or right any wrongs. He felt dirty for considering it, which of course made the notion all the more appealing.

“Do you still drink?” she asked.

“No. I’ve been sober three years now.”

“Congratulations.”

He acknowledged her with a curt nod.

Silence stretched between them. “My sister just got engaged,” she said, showing him a photo on her cell phone.

He glanced at the image to be polite. “Is that a gray diamond?”

“Musgravite,” she said. “It’s very rare. She’s a geophysicist.”

That was impressive. “Are you a scientist, as well?”

“I’m a wellness director at a nursing home.”

“What does that mean?”

“I plan activities and interact with the residents.”

“Do you play pinochle?”

Her lips twitched at the question. “We play strip poker.”

The comment sounded suggestive, like an invitation to picture her naked. Somehow he resisted the urge. “You must see a lot of sock suspenders.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “What do you do?”

“You don’t know?”

“I know you used to play baseball.”

“I manage a college team now.”

“Is that like coaching?”

“Sort of. I handle recruiting and business decisions.”

“Where at?”

“San Diego State.”

The season had just ended and Nathan was happy with their performance. The Toros had done well in the play-offs. Maybe next summer they’d go all the way. He felt good about their future prospects—and his own.

Professionally, he had few complaints. Managing a talented young team was lucrative and rewarding. His love life was nonexistent and his son refused to speak to him. But hey, nobody said sobriety would be easy.

The sound of a motorcycle engine made his heart jump into his throat.

“That’s them,” Abby said.

Nathan set his cup on the countertop and proceeded outside with her. Leo parked what appeared to be a vintage dirt bike on the sidewalk by the driveway. It was an old Honda with a single headlight. The seat didn’t appear large enough for two, but they’d managed. Brooke clung to Leo like a second skin, her slender arms wrapped around his midsection. She was wearing a black helmet, obviously his.

She hopped off the bike and removed the helmet, pale blond hair spilling down her shoulders. She was tall and leggy, like her mother. Her jeans and tank top were tight enough to rev up any teenage boy’s hormones.

Leo grinned at her as he stomped down the kickstand and cut the engine. He took the helmet she offered, seeming a little dazed by her beauty.

Nathan could relate to the feeling.

Leo didn’t notice Nathan’s car in the driveway or even see him standing there. Nathan stepped forward, clearing his throat. Leo startled at the sound. His smile faded and all of the joy drained from his face.

“Is that thing street legal?” Nathan asked.

Leo ignored his question. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Brooke gaped at his rudeness. She probably never spoke that way to her parents.

“This is Leo’s dad,” Abby said, putting her arm around Brooke’s shoulders.

The girl recovered from her shock and greeted him politely. “I’m Brooke.”

“Nathan,” he said, shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Abby guided her inside, aware that Nathan and Leo needed some privacy.

Nathan didn’t know where to begin. He hadn’t talked to Leo since Christmas. Now that Leo was an adult, Nathan couldn’t force him to accept his calls or allow visits. Ray and Lydia supported him financially.

Nathan had no say in his life. No rights. No relationship.

He’d lost his son in the divorce, as well as his wife. Although he took responsibility for the problems he’d created, he still resented being out of the parental loop. Lydia never consulted with him about important issues, like vehicle ownership and college enrollment. Ray gave Leo free rein to fuck up and footed all the bills.

Leo had grown several inches since last summer, when Nathan had stopped by to see him after a game at UCLA. Between semesters, he lived with Ray and Lydia in Beverly Hills. They’d converted the pool house into a small studio apartment where he could jam loud music and hang out with his hoodlum friends.

His hair was longer. His shoulders were a little broader. Though he refused to play sports, he was a natural athlete. He had quick reflexes and a quick mind—when he wasn’t under the influence. Someday his dissolute lifestyle would catch up with him. For now he was lean and strong and brimming with health.

“You need a haircut,” Nathan said.

Leo lodged his helmet under one arm, feigning boredom. “What do you want?”

“Your mom and Ray couldn’t make it.”

He swore at them both under his breath, which set Nathan’s nerves further on edge. Leo didn’t appreciate the easy life he’d been given.

“Don’t disrespect your mother,” Nathan said.

“Only you can?”

Nathan hadn’t badmouthed Lydia since he quit drinking, but he’d called her some unflattering names over the years. They’d argued and exchanged scathing insults. Once, Leo had gotten between them, shoving and kicking. Tears streaming down his face, he’d yelled at Nathan to leave his mother alone.

“She called me from the E.R.,” Nathan said.

Leo tensed at the news. Still protective. “What happened?”

“She sprained her ankle. She can’t walk, so she asked me to fill in. She thought we could go hiking together.”

“I hate hiking.”

“Then why did you come?”

Leo fell silent, glowering into the dark shadows beyond the cabin. Nathan already knew the answer. Leo was driving an old motorcycle for a reason. Ray had taken away his car after finding a joint in the ashtray. Lydia was planning to confront him about his drug use this week. His attendance wasn’t optional.

Maybe Lydia’s injury was real and maybe it wasn’t. Nathan wondered if she’d delegated this responsibility because she couldn’t deal with it. She had a certain sense of fatalism, a belief that people followed a set course in life. No one could change their destiny and everything was meant to be.

The upside was that she had a loving, accepting personality. The downside was that she gave Leo very little guidance. He needed boundaries and discipline—tough love. Ray wasn’t a pushover, but he served his own interests and avoided conflict. It was up to Nathan to reach Leo. Nathan hoped he could get through to him before it was too late.

“Your mother wants us to spend time together,” he said, his throat tight. “I want us to spend time together.”

With a scowl, Leo fished his cell phone out of his pocket and stepped away from Nathan to call Lydia. They began a rapid conversation in Portuguese. She was from Brazil, so she’d taught Leo her native tongue and a fair amount of Spanish. Leo could tell Nathan to fuck off in three different languages.

Nathan was proud of that. Sort of.

Apparently Lydia held her ground. She wasn’t going to give his car back unless he stayed at the cabin with Nathan. Leo mumbled goodbye and pocketed his phone.

“Are we clear?” Nathan asked.

Leo strode toward the front door, not bothering to respond. Nathan followed him inside. Brooke was sitting on the couch, her eyes wet with tears. Either she’d spoken to Ray or her mother had broken the bad news. Nathan felt sorry for her. Brooke exchanged a glance with Leo, who glared at Nathan as if he’d made her cry.

Lydia had told him that this trip had been Brooke’s idea. Brooke was the intrepid explorer who loved communing with nature. Abby handed her daughter a mug of cocoa. Brooke sipped the drink, studying Nathan.

“Would you like some cocoa?” Abby asked Leo.

He sat down on the couch next to Brooke. “No, thanks.”

Abby leaned her hip against the side of the couch. She reached out, as if to smooth her daughter’s hair. But instead of following through on the motion, she drew back a curled fist. “We can still go hiking.”

Brooke shrugged, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Abby’s presence at the cabin was both a relief and a complication. With her here, Nathan didn’t have to look after Brooke. He’d figured that she would stay with him and Leo or go home. The idea of hiking as a foursome hadn’t occurred to him.

Until now.

“Where were you planning to hike?” Nathan asked.

Brooke had a map open on the surface of the coffee table. “There are a bunch of cool places around here,” she said, sniffling. “I wanted to go to Echo Lake.” She pointed to a round blue spot on the map. “The trail splits off from there. It’s a steep climb to Miracle Hot Springs or a gentle slope to Lupine Meadow.”

Nathan settled into a nearby armchair.

“My dad and Lydia would have picked the easier route,” Brooke said.

That was all Nathan needed to hear. He’d endured grueling training sessions throughout his baseball career, and he still exercised every day. Physically, Ray was no match for him. Not that they were in competition or anything. “Then let’s take the hard way.”

Brooke met his gaze. “Really?”

“Sure. There’s no reason to cancel your plans.”

Her face lit up with excitement. “Can we, Mom?”

“We don’t want to impose,” Abby said.

“Not at all,” Nathan said. “If anyone’s imposing, it’s me.”

“You got that right,” Leo muttered.

Brooke slapped his shoulder. “Leo!”

“What?”

“Be nice to your dad.”

Abby went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She came back, passing it to Leo. Although he hadn’t asked for it, he untwisted the cap and took a drink. “Brooke and I can hike on our own,” Abby said.

“That’s no fun,” Brooke said, as if hanging out with Abby was a chore.

Leo smirked at her plaintive response. He wasn’t keen on camping with his old man, either, but he might enjoy following Brooke up a mountain. Leo would probably be on his best behavior around her. He also couldn’t take off on his motorcycle if he got angry with Nathan, which was bound to happen.

This was perfect.

“Hiking as a group is safer, especially in remote wilderness areas,” Nathan said. “Lydia told me there was a murder just a few miles from here last summer. They found a guy with an arrow in his chest.”

“I read about that,” Abby said. “It was a couple. The girl is still missing.”

“Maybe she killed him,” Leo said.

“Ooh,” Brooke said with approval. “Spooky.”

Nathan caught Abby’s exasperated look. Kids.

“How many days will we be gone?” Abby asked.

“Four or five at the most,” Brooke said. “But we’ll be near water the whole time. You don’t have to worry about being dirty.”

Abby made a noncommittal sound.

“She’s kind of a neat freak,” Brooke explained to Nathan and Leo.

“I’m a fan of regular showers, myself,” Leo said.

Brooke wrinkled her nose at Leo’s lame joke and they both laughed. Nathan wasn’t sure what to think of them. He hardly remembered being a teenager. When he was Leo’s age, he’d been a professional baseball player, married with a kid on the way. These two weren’t children, but he couldn’t see them as adults.

“Is it settled?” Nathan asked Abby.

“My dad had all of the supplies delivered,” Brooke said, leaping to her feet. “If we pack up our gear tonight, we can get an early start tomorrow.”

Leo groaned at her enthusiasm, but Brooke couldn’t be dissuaded. Denying her was like trying to stop the sunrise.

“What do you say?” she asked, arms spread wide.

“Okay,” Abby said, giving in.

CHAPTER THREE

ABBY WOKE BEFORE DAWN.

She reached for her cell phone and noted the time. Her alarm would ring in ten minutes. Turning it off, she scooted away from Brooke and climbed out of bed. Nathan and Leo had taken the other two bedrooms, so she and Brooke had shared.

Last night, Brooke had organized all of the supplies they needed. Two small tents, four sleeping bags, four mats. Miscellaneous food items and dried meal packages. A bear canister, water filter, flashlight, first-aid kit. Toiletries and cooking utensils.

Brooke was a ruthless minimalist. She wouldn’t allow Abby to bring any makeup or unnecessary clothes, claiming she’d regret every extra ounce. As a result, the packs weighed less than ten pounds each.

Abby put on the clothes she’d laid out the night before. They’d be stopping at the lake before they reached camp, so she started with her swimsuit, a sporty blue two-piece. Over that, she pulled on basic running shorts and a gray tank top. Her anklet socks and black hiking shoes completed the look.

After brushing her teeth and pulling her hair into a ponytail, she studied her appearance. Devoid of makeup, her face looked plain and bare. She saw smudges under her eyes, pale lips, freckles and crow’s feet.

Tiptoeing toward her beauty case, she unfastened the latch.

“Don’t even think about it,” Brooke mumbled.

“What?”

She rolled over in bed and squinted at Abby. “Your makeup will wash off when you swim.”

“I’ll keep my head above water.”

“What about tomorrow? I’m not carrying that stuff for you.”

Abby would give up a couple of meals for her MAC case. Just a little mascara, some lip gloss, a bit of concealer...

“You don’t need it.”

That was easy for Brooke to say; she didn’t need any. She had a smooth, even complexion. Her skin tanned easily. Although her hair was blond, like Abby’s, her brows and lashes were dark.

Brooke propped her head on her hand. “What do you think of Leo’s dad?”

“He’s very nice.”

“Nice?”

Abby glanced at the closed door, hoping Nathan couldn’t hear them. They hadn’t talked about this last night. Brooke had stayed up late playing video games with Leo. She’d fallen asleep as soon as she crawled into bed.

“Leo says he’s single,” Brooke added in a low voice.

“How would he know? They don’t get along.”

“Lydia knows.”

“Don’t embarrass me.”

With a smile, Brooke threw back the comforter and rose from the bed in her underwear. She was lithe and lean, pantherlike. Sometimes Abby couldn’t believe this fully grown woman had come out of her body.

Not so long ago, her daughter had been gap-toothed and giggling, wearing a party hat. She’d been a newborn who refused to latch on for the first two weeks, and then a toddler who’d refused to stop when Abby tried to wean her. She’d always been stubborn, prone to outbursts, quick to laugh and full of energy.

Brooke flipped open the makeup case and rifled through its contents. “Here,” she said, choosing a single item. She tucked the rose-tinted lip moisturizer into Abby’s palm and closed her fingers around it, as if bestowing a precious gift.

Abby turned to the mirror and applied it, her throat tight.

Brooke came up behind her. “Do you think I need boobs?” she asked, covering her small breasts with her hands.

“Absolutely not,” Abby said, appalled. Brooke had a runner’s figure, strong and sleek. “You’re perfect.”

“I look like a boy.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one important.”

“Good, because it’s ridiculous.”

“Were you flat, before?”

“You don’t remember?”

Brooke shook her head.

Brooke had been twelve when Abby had her breasts done. Too young to notice the flaws Abby had seen so clearly. “I wasn’t flat...I was asymmetrical.”

“Like, one big boob and one small?” She adjusted her hands over her chest to demonstrate.

“Yes.” It wasn’t the only reason for her augmentation; Abby’s self-confidence had taken a hit during the divorce. If she hadn’t been such an emotional wreck, she might not have gone under the knife, but she was happy with the results. “You have a lovely figure, very proportional. Besides, large breasts are a pain for sports.”

“True.”

“They also seem to attract jerks,” Abby pointed out.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know.”

Although her implants weren’t that obvious, Abby worried about the example she’d set for Brooke. Until now, Brooke had never complained about her shape or acted self-conscious. She certainly wasn’t shy about wearing revealing clothes. Abby wondered what had prompted this conversation. “What are the boys like at Berkeley?”

Brooke stopped posing in front of the mirror and dropped her hands. She’d steered clear of serious relationships in high school, preferring to concentrate on sports and academics. “They’re hot, rich and smart.”

It was a succinct summary, delivered with more cynicism than a girl her age should have. Maybe Brooke had some trust issues of her own.

Thanks, Ray.

Brooke scooped up a pile of clothes and escaped into the bathroom. Abby hoped her daughter would come to her if she needed someone to talk to. She also wished Brooke had a better male role model. Too often, her father wasn’t there for her.

With a frown, Abby left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. The soles of her shoes made no sound on the lush carpet. When she exited the hallway, she saw Nathan and almost jumped out of her skin.

“You scared me,” he said, removing the carafe from the coffeemaker.

It took her a few seconds to realize he was joking. “I didn’t know you were up.”

“I was trying to be quiet.”

He went to the sink and filled the carafe with water, whistling. After transferring the water to the reservoir, he plugged in the machine and turned it on.

Abby studied him as they waited for the coffee to brew. He was wearing a faded blue Toros T-shirt with tan cargo shorts and brown hiking boots. The clothes fit well on his body, which appeared to be in fantastic shape. She figured he had to be close to forty, but only his face showed his age. He had thick brown hair, broad shoulders and a trim waist. An outdoor setting would only accentuate his rugged features.

It wasn’t fair.

Abby didn’t want to “rough it” with a man this attractive. She was going to be sweaty and anxious and unkempt. The idea of trekking through the woods and leaving civilization behind intimidated her. She didn’t like feeling out of her element, out of control.

“You must have been a child bride,” he said.

She’d heard that one before. It was an odd sort of compliment, but she saw no censure in his expression. “And you were twelve when you fathered Leo, right?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I was nineteen. The same age he is now.”

“Were you more mature than he is?”

“Maybe, but not by much.”

She fell silent for a moment, pondering her own teen marriage. At eighteen, she’d thought she was ready to be a wife and mother. She’d wanted her own family more than anything. Ray had been five years older, and on a fast track to a promising career in medicine. They’d skipped the courtship and gone straight to playing house.

“Was the pregnancy unplanned?” she asked, tentative.

His brows rose at the personal question. “It’s hard to say that, considering how careless we were with protection. The real surprise was that it didn’t happen sooner.”

“Did you want to get married?”

“I did, actually. I had to talk her into it. She had reservations about the amount of time I spent traveling with the team.”

Abby couldn’t blame her. She imagined a young, beautiful Lydia, taking care of a baby by herself while Nathan “the Storm” Strom hit home runs in front of a roaring crowd. Lydia had gotten the short end of that stick.

When the coffee was finished brewing, Nathan grabbed a cup and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, disconcerted by his proximity.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Brooke said as she walked in. She was wearing a red tank top, frayed denim short-shorts and sturdy hiking boots. Her long hair was braided under a baseball cap. “You two should get revenge on Lydia and Dad by hooking up.”

Abby stepped back from Nathan too quickly and spilled coffee over the rim of her mug. “Brooke!”

“What?”

Nathan coughed into his fist, as if covering a laugh. He found another mug on the shelf and busied himself with the coffeemaker. Abby set her cup aside and wiped the floor with a paper towel, her cheeks hot.

“Coffee?” Nathan offered Brooke.

“No, thanks.”

He must have preferred it black, because he left without adding any cream or sugar. “Ladies,” he said, winking at Abby.

Brooke gave her a triumphant smile.

Abby opened the refrigerator, half hoping she could crawl inside and die. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Relax. He thought I was joking.”

Abby took out a carton of soy milk and a jar of orange juice. “Should I make breakfast?”

“Definitely. Be domestic.”

Abby rifled through the utensil drawer for a spatula. “You can scramble eggs,” she said, pointing it at Brooke.

They cooked almost a dozen eggs, along with turkey bacon and wheat toast. Nathan came back for a plate. Leo also roused from his slumber. He was dressed casually in basketball shorts and a T-shirt that said High Life across the front. Nathan’s gaze darkened with irritation when he saw the marijuana logo.

Abby could cut through the tension between them with a knife. Nathan had said that Leo didn’t like him. It appeared to be true. He was polite to her and Brooke, seemingly indifferent toward his father.

After breakfast, Leo helped Brooke with the dishes while Nathan walked outside to make business calls on his cell phone. Abby perused the local newspaper, which must have been delivered with the groceries. She found a disturbing story about Echo Lake. A few years ago, a group of teenagers had hiked there for an afternoon swim. When it was time to leave, one of the girls hadn’t returned to shore. Divers searched a portion of the lake but were unable to recover the body. She was presumed drowned.

Abby read the article out loud to Brooke and Leo. “You’ll have to be careful swimming. There are obstacles in the water. Sunken logs.”

“We’ll use the buddy system,” Leo said.

Brooke handed him a plate to dry. “Stop reading that stuff, Mom. You’re going to get all worked up.”

Abby flipped through the pages with a sigh. Near the back, there was a photo of a smiling young woman hugging a terrier mix. Both were missing. She was last seen at a pet store, buying a leash for the dog.

Maybe she’d gone hiking.

Pulse racing, Abby returned to the Echo Lake article and noted the victim’s name. Then she picked up her cell phone and did a quick search for the drowning victim’s name plus the missing girl’s name. They were connected, but only as former residents of Monarch. Both were young, blonde and pretty.

Curious, Abby looked for more information about missing girls and women in the area. There were dozens of articles about the college student who’d been murdered on the Pacific Crest Trail. He’d been shot in the chest with an arrow from a crossbow. His girlfriend—young, blonde and pretty—had never been found.

If Abby hadn’t seen the first two women in the same newspaper, she might not have noticed the similarities. She skimmed the other articles for evidence that law enforcement officials were investigating a link between them. They weren’t even trying to find the drowning victim. The woman and the dog could have gone anywhere. Forest rangers and volunteers had combed the woods for the college student’s girlfriend, to no avail.