Chapter 25

Mallowater, TX, 2008

Sloan stared at the picture. Libby, Vince, and Ridge standing in front of a bright, beautiful Christmas tree. None of them were looking at the camera, and they'd all been caught mid-laugh. It was the kind of perfect picture that you couldn't plan. One that captured genuine happiness.

They looked like a family out of the Sears Christmas Wish Books Sloan flipped through each year as a child, circling Barbies and paint-by-numbers books, knowing that no matter how tight money was, several of these gifts would somehow end up under the tree. She tried circling items as a teen, but it never worked. Sloan gave up wishing for CD players and watercolor paint sets but still flipped through the pages longingly each year, wishing she had a happy family who wore matching Christmas pajamas.

Why would Libby and Vince Turner kidnap Ridge? The question pinged back and forth between the walls of Sloan's skull. Libby was her mom's best friend. And why would Ridge go with them? How could he accept them as his family?

She wanted to call Ridge now. Wanted to demand answers, but it would only push him away. Still, she realized she couldn't contain a secret this vast. You couldn't fit the ocean inside a vase.

Dylan, she thought. She needed to call Dylan. She'd told him she had thrown up and needed a raincheck when she'd returned from seeing Ridge. He had been understanding, but he might have taken it personally. She needed Dylan to help her make sense of it. And he's the only one who knew Ridge was alive. There was no one else to call. Sloan pulled out her cell phone. But rather than go to her contacts and find Dylan's name, she dialed a number she had memorized years before. She called Noah.

"What's this about, Sloan?" Noah tugged his baseball cap down lower as he walked toward Sloan's porch.

She pushed the screen door open. "Come inside."

Noah looked back out at the street as though he'd been followed.

"Oh, come on. You didn't want to meet in public because it could look bad. Now you don't want to come in my house for the same reason? Get over yourself."

Noah shook his head. "You've got some nerve, you know? The last time I heard from you, you said you were using Dylan Lawrence for sex. Then you call tonight, frantic, demanding that I come over, refusing to say why. I'm off tonight. I had to lie to Vickie, and it's not worth it. You're not worth it. If you need something, call the police department."

Sloan watched him stomp back to his car, but even after such cruel words, she couldn't let him drive away. She charged toward him, gripping the picture in her right hand. "I may not be worth it to you, but is Ridge?"

Noah clicked his key fob, unlocking the doors of his cruiser. "What are you talking about? Is this still about Eddie Daughtry?"

"No." She held up the picture. "It's about Vince and Libby Turner."

Noah squinted at the photo, then grabbed it out of her hands. "What the hell is this?"

She snatched the picture back. "Still want me to call 911, or do you want to come in and help sort this out?"

Noah clicked the fob again, locking the doors, and followed Sloan inside the house.

Sloan filled Noah in on everything. On the talking crow, on Ridge appearing from behind the bush, on the scrapbook. She whispered, frequently breaking to glance down the hallway and make sure her mother's door remained closed.

Noah rubbed his eyes. "I can't believe this. If they moved the same time Ridge disappeared, why weren't they looked at?"

"They left before. Libby came to stay with us for the funeral."

"Did she come back again? After that?" Noah asked.

"I don't think so. Mom would talk on the phone with her for hours. Then, it just stopped. I assumed mom's deteriorating mental health was to blame."

Noah stared at the picture again. "You shouldn't have told me this, Sloan. As an officer, I have a duty to report it."

"But you're not going to," Sloan said. "Because I didn't call Noah the cop over here. I called Noah, Ridge's best friend."

Noah stood and paced in front of the couch. "Your dad is in prison, Sloan."

"And he's getting out Thursday. I'm not asking you for justice for my father; I'm asking for support for me." Sloan's voice shook, and tears filled her eyes. "I want to get to the bottom of this, but I don't want to push Ridge away, and I sure as hell don't want to face it alone."

Noah sat back down next to her but stared straight ahead. "You aren't alone."

Sloan sat still, letting the relief sink in. It filled her entire body, pushing the tears out of her eyes.

"Hey, don't cry." Noah put his hand on her knee, and Sloan's own fingers tingled with the need to touch his skin. She placed her hand on top of his. "I want to see him." Noah's voice was barely audible. "I can't believe he's alive."

Sloan turned her head towards him. "Maybe I can convince Ridge it's safe to see you. If not, we can arrange an accidental meeting."

Noah looked at her. "I'm sorry for what I said. About you not being worth it."

"And I'm sorry for the crude text about Dylan. I was drunk."

"So, you're not having sex with him?"

"No," Sloan said. "But we are dating."

Noah pulled his hand off her knee and scratched his face. "Well, I'm sure he's a nice guy. Sorry for assuming it was all about Eddie Daughtry."

"And I'm sorry you had to lie to Vickie. I wish it didn't have to be like that. I want us to be friends again."

Noah's eyes locked on hers. "Is that really all you want?"

Sloan closed her eyes. No, it wasn't all she wanted. She wanted to sneak Noah into her bedroom like she had those nights a lifetime ago. She wanted to be held in his now considerably stronger arms. She wanted to feel like a teenager in love again, but with the experience of a grown woman. Just one time. At least one time.

But Noah was too sturdy to fall, too rooted. He would never. And even if he did, then what? He'd be so wracked with guilt he'd never look at her again. Yes, she missed the passion she shared with Noah, and she was still riding the high of his touch. But a deeper intimacy is what she really craved. She missed her best friend; she missed their talks and his complete understanding of what she'd been through. His complete understanding of her.

She opened her eyes to find he was still staring at her. "Yes," she said. "That's really all I want."

"Good." Noah stood and dug his keys out of his pocket. "That's all I want too. Let's not act like we have anything to hide. I'll talk to Vickie about having you and Dylan over for dinner sometime."

Sloan's mouth went dry. "Um, yeah, sure, if she wants, but no pressure." She stood and walked Noah to the door. "And you'll look into what happened to the Turners after they left Mallowater?"

"Yeah, and you'll ask Ridge about seeing me?" He held up a finger. "Seeing Noah, the friend, not Noah, the cop."

"Absolutely." Sloan held up three of her own fingers, a nod to her Girl Scout days. "Noah, the friend ," she said, making it a pledge to herself as well.

"Where's Crawford?" Sloan rubbed her fingers along the bars of the empty cage behind the tent.

"Pretty sure he's gone for good." Ridge looked up to the sky. "Hasn't returned in a few days."

"So that means . . ."

Ridge picked a piece of lint from his sleeve. "Yeah, time for me to go, too."

Sloan rocked slightly. "Well, you can't leave before I show you the old albums I found."

Ridge clapped his hands together. "Hell yeah, let's see 'em."

"Well, there were a lot, plus some other old things you might remember. Why don't you come over tomorrow night and look?"

Ridge's posture stiffened. "What about Mom?"

"Well, she's been drinking a glass of wine every night. If I give her a sleeping pill with it, she's out. I'm not proud of drugging her, but you don't know what she's like now."

Ridge grimaced. "I'm sorry, Lo. For what happened to her."

"Well, it wasn't your fault," Sloan said. "Whoever took you is to blame."

"What's that supposed to mean?" There was tension in Ridge's voice.

Sloan looked him in the eye. "I assume you didn't run away?"

Ridge jumped to his feet. "I said we weren't going to talk about this."

Sloan stood to meet him. "You owe me an explanation. Why can't you tell me what happened?"

"Because it could get people that I care about in trouble."

The folded picture of Vince, Libby, and Ridge in her pocket poked against Sloan's leg. She took a deep breath and then took a chance. If Ridge was getting ready to leave anyway, what did she have to lose? "Libby and Vince, you mean?"

Ridge took a few steps backward and leaned against the giant tree that bore his name. Even from a distance, Sloan saw the sweat dripping from his brow. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything." Sloan pulled the picture out of her pocket. "I found this."

Ridge stepped forward. "Give it back," he said.

"You can have it." Sloan tossed the picture toward him. It fluttered in the air and fell at his feet. "I'm not trying to get them in trouble, Ridge. If I wanted to do that, I could have done it already. I just want answers."

"So, all this time, you've been snooping through my stuff? Why wasn't I enough?"

"Why weren't we enough!" Sloan yelled.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're crazy. Like Mom."

Sloan felt a flush of heat in her face and neck. "Don't you dare talk about Mom. You don't even know her."

Ridge covered his face and lowered himself to the dirt. "It wasn't my fault."

Sloan forced herself to calm down. "I know that. You were a kid."

"Libby and Vince aren't bad people. They did it for you. We all did it for you."

For her? Sloan took a few steps closer to Ridge and knelt down to get on his level, just like she'd done when he was young and frightened. "What do you mean?"

"Dad was hurting you, Sloan. You've blocked it out, but Mom wouldn't have lied about that."

Sloan shook her head. "Dad never hurt me. I didn't forget."

"But—"

"Think about it, Ridge. If Dad abused me like Mom said, why would she tell you? A ten-year-old? And what does that have to do with Libby and Vince taking you away? Why not me?"

Ridge looked up at the sky. "They were going to bring me back. They were supposed to bring me back. That was the plan. I'm sorry, Lo."

"Start from the beginning."

Ridge raised his head till his red eyes met Sloan's. "Dad would have gotten custody, and it would never stop. The only way we would ever be safe is if he were in jail."

Sloan felt a prickling along the back of her neck. "So, it was a setup? Libby and Vince framed Dad for your murder?"

Ridge shook his head. " Mom framed dad. It was all her idea."