Chapter 5

Mallowater, TX, 2008

Sloan's heart still raced after she unloaded groceries. She'd had to stop in Mallowater for them but didn't even mind the stares or whispers. Anything was better than seeing Felicity.

Sloan turned on the television. Even PBS was better than the quiet. It surprised her when she flipped the channel and was met with more than just static. Noah, she realized. He'd not only turned the utilities on but also the cable. She needed to pay him back. Yet, she could never truly pay him back, could she? Noah and his parents had taken care of her mom all these years since Sloan escaped. Sloan only wrote the checks that allowed her mom to stay at the mental health residential facility and made the occasional phone call.

Sloan realized Noah thought her a coward for running away, but he didn't understand what it had been like to live with Caroline Radel alone all those years. Sure, he'd tried to be there for Sloan during that time, but he couldn't really understand—not when he had a normal family to go home to every night.

Sloan turned up the volume when a breaking news story flashed on the screen. Human remains found outside Jefferson . Sloan dropped the remote. As much as she said she wanted Ridge's remains found, she also held her breath every time these stories made headlines, always praying it wasn't him.

"The remains have been identified as Logan Pruitt," the newscaster announced. "Pruitt disappeared from Longview in 1986 when he was eleven years old."

Sloan vaguely remembered the name, a cautionary tale from her mom to always be aware of her surroundings, to distrust strangers. There were cruel rumors that Logan's parents had ties to a Satanic cult.

"Though little evidence remains, there is hope DNA will be recovered to identify a suspect in this tragic case," the reporter added.

"What's he talking about?"

Sloan jumped. "Geez, Mom. When did you come in?"

"Just now, through the back," Caroline said.

Sloan glanced at her watch. "It's already eight."

"Well, excuse me, warden. I was at the creek visiting my crows." Caroline flopped down on the couch beside Sloan. "Whatcha watching?"

"Do you remember Logan Pruitt? The boy from Longview that went missing?"

"Yeah. Awful story."

"They found his remains. In Jefferson." Sloan grabbed the remote and muted the TV. "Anytime I see a story about remains being found, I always think of Ridge." Sloan avoided her mom's eyes. "I mean, I know it's crazy. He was washed out to the gulf, but still."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Caroline asked.

"Since they found no remains, it's just hard. No closure or whatever."

"There aren't remains." Caroline's tone was sharp. "Ridge is alive."

Sloan's stomach hardened. "No, Mom, he's not. Dad . . ." Sloan could never bring herself to put the blame on who she knew deserved it. "Ridge is gone."

"Then who was I talking to at the creek?"

Sloan rubbed her forehead. "That's not funny, Mom."

"I'm not making a joke. I was talking to Ridge."

Sloan jumped from the couch. "Stop, Mom. Enough with the games. Ridge is dead."

Caroline squinted like she couldn't make sense of Sloan's words. "Your brother is alive. He's always been alive."

Sloan sat outside the police station for thirty minutes before going in. She couldn't avoid Noah forever. And while she was picking at scabs, she might as well tear off this one.

"Good morning!" She tried to make her voice sound chipper as she approached the front desk, but she could never get chipper quite right. "Is Detective Dawson in?"

"Do you have an appointment?" The woman behind the desk didn't look up from her magazine.

"No. I'm an old friend and—"

"Sloan?"

She turned, and there he was. Being this close to Noah Dawson still caused a physical reaction in Sloan, like they were high school kids passing in the hallway, biding their time until they could sneak away to make out in the parking lot.

His cologne smelled earthy, like burning pinecones. He and Sloan had tossed them into the fires they built those late nights at Crow's Nest Creek.

"Hey, Noah." Sloan wondered if she should hug him. Shake his hand? Run out the door and never look back?

"Sloan. Wow." He looked at her like he'd seen a ghost. She supposed to Noah that's exactly what she was. "Umm, welcome home." He patted her back, then looked around to ensure no one had seen her. "Did you need something or—?"

"Yeah." Sloan tensed her shoulders. "Do you have a minute?"

"For you? Always," he said. "Follow me."

Doors buzzed, keys jingled, keyboards clacked, and police radios squawked as Sloan walked down the hallway to Noah's office. She kept her head down. The fewer people that recognized her, the better.

"You got your dad's office. Still smells the same. Like old coffee." Sloan sat in a chair on the other side of Noah's desk. "How is he . . . your dad?"

Noah smiled. Sloan tried not to stare, but he looked even better now. The dark smooth skin and perfectly squared jaw were just as she remembered, but he was bigger now, his black polo strangling his biceps and tight against his chest. And the beginnings of a mustache suited him. Sloan allowed herself to look into his eyes; they had always been his best feature. Not only their deep brown but the inner smile that seemed to reflect from them. Sloan had never seen kinder eyes.

"Dad's real good. Fishing a lot, enjoying retirement. You should stop by and see them. That would make their day."

"For sure." Sloan looked down at the threadbare carpet. "I need to thank them for all they've done for my mom and for handling everything with the house." She let her eyes rise to meet his. "And you. I wanted to thank you."

Noah stood and walked to the coffee pot on his windowsill. "We're glad to help. It's the least we could do." He held up the pot of coffee. "Want a cup?"

Sloan shook her head. "No, pretty sure I'm the one who's done the least that can be done."

Noah kept his back to her as he filled his cup. "Well, you needed to get away." Frustration laced his voice.

Sloan rubbed her hands on her thighs. "It was complicated."

Noah sat back down in his chair. "I know. I know." Some warmth had returned to his voice. "I'm sorry we weren't able to talk her into staying at the home."

"Well, thanks for trying. She's worse than I thought, Noah. She's claiming Ridge is still alive. This is going to be an interesting summer."

"You're staying all summer?" Noah's coffee cup hid his expression. "What about Liam?"

"It didn't work out."

Noah set down his cup. "Sorry. I hadn't heard."

"It's fine." Sloan noticed the photo on Noah's desk for the first time. A casual family portrait taken in front of an ornate Christmas tree. A beautiful wife and two children, a boy and a girl, wrapping paper strewn around them. She wasn't sure whether she should be happy for or insanely jealous of Noah's picture-perfect life.

She picked up the photo. "Beautiful family."

"Thanks. Hudson just turned four; Julianne is two."

"Sounds like you've got your hands full," Sloan said because that seemed like something normal people would say.

"They're both pure energy, for sure. But I work so many hours; it's Vickie you should feel sorry for."

Sloan looked at the photo again. Looked at Vickie's beautiful smile, beautiful husband, and beautiful Christmas tree. No, she didn't feel sorry for Vickie. Not at all.

"So that's why you're here?" Noah reclined in his chair. "To say thanks?"

"Thanks and sorry," Sloan whispered. "Sorry for running away like I did."

"Sloan, I already told you. We were glad to look in on Caroline."

"I'm not talking about Mom." Sloan's mouth felt bone dry. "I'm sorry for running out on you."

"Oh." Noah let out a breath that rattled his lips. "That."

"I was miserable in Mallowater." Sloan saw hurt spread across Noah's face. "I mean, everything was miserable except for you. You and your family saved my life all those years."

"We were friends." Noah spun a pencil on his desk.

"Most friendships don't come at such a cost," Sloan said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sloan shifted in her seat. "Your poor dad was dragged through the mud for standing by us. We were outcasts."

"You were victims," Noah said, emphasizing each of the words.

"For five minutes." Sloan huffed. "Long enough for Mom to start throwing rocks at windows and climbing on other people's roofs."

Noah made a steeple with his fingers. "I think most understood the grief changed her. I don't think anybody could blame her."

" Everybody blamed her!" Sloan's eyes filled with tears. "Everyone except for your family. And because of your proximity to us, you all became outcasts too."

"Oh, come on."

"It's true." Sloan's nails dug into her palms as she clenched her hands. "That's why your dad never made chief."

Noah drew in a frustrated breath. "The only thing that kept Dad from being chief is the color of our skin. Don't put that on your family."

Sloan unclenched her fists. "It was probably both. But hopefully, you'll get the chance your dad never did. You're young and an accomplished detective already. Things are different now, after all."

"Things are different, but not that different," Noah said.

"Oh. I just thought Obama winning the primary was a positive sign."

Noah smirked. "This ain't the White House. This is Texas."

Sloan nodded. "I see."

Noah met her eyes. "Look, Sloan. I've loved you since we were kids. I always figured you'd move after graduation. That you'd go off to college and leave me behind. But I never imagined you'd do it in the middle of the night without so much as a note."

Sloan swallowed. "I left a note."

"Not for me."

"I mentioned you," Sloan said. "And I called."

"Two weeks later." Noah scrubbed his hands over his face. "Sorry. You came to apologize, and I'm dragging it all back out."

"It's okay." Sloan knew she deserved worse. "I was a coward. I didn't know how to say goodbye." Her eyes retraced their path to the picture on his desk. "Things worked out better for you, anyway. You've got a nice family, and I'm a nice train wreck."

"Stop, Sloan. I always hated that about you. Your self-deprecation."

"And I hated your blunt honesty." Sloan allowed herself to grin. "I still kinda do, actually."

Noah returned the smile. "It's good to see you, Sloan. I'm glad you're back. If there's anything else I can do—"

"I saw her," Sloan interrupted.

"Saw who?"

"Felicity." Bile rose and stung Sloan's throat. "Yesterday in Tyler—getting groceries. I saw her."

Noah pulled at his collar. "Damn. Did she recognize you? Did y'all speak?"

"Yeah, she did, and yes, she tried, but I ran," Sloan said.

"Imagine that."

Sloan cocked an eyebrow. "Come on; you can't blame me for that one."

"How did you even recognize her? It's been so long."

Sloan looked away. "That People magazine article," she said, leaving out the night she had gotten drunk and stalked Felicity's Myspace. Not one of her finer moments.

"Oh yeah. I was hoping you missed that one."

Sloan wished she had. Not only had she seen it, but she'd also bought it and still had it. She couldn't bring herself to throw it away. How many hours had she spent looking at it? Obsessing over it. Studying Felicity. Studying them all.

"She's a kindergarten teacher," Noah said.

"Kinder? Well, she's definitely crazy then," Sloan said. An attempt to lighten the mood.

"They aren't bad people, Sloan." Noah's voice softened. "No matter how much you want them to be."

Sloan squirmed in her chair. She wanted to argue but had no argument.

Noah glanced at his watch. "Hey, I'm really sorry. But I've got a meeting at ten."

"Right." Sloan shot up from her chair. "Sorry."

Noah walked around the desk. "Don't apologize," he said. "And don't be a stranger, either." She caught another whiff of his cologne as he stepped closer. "It's great to see you, Lo."

Burning pinecones, rising smoke, a sky full of blue-white stars, a single sleeping bag . The memories rushed back.

Before Sloan could say anything, Noah wrapped his arms around her. She wanted to resist, to keep her arms stiff at her side, but she sank into his body.

Sloan was familiar with that rush of desire from a new relationship. The overwhelming attraction that lights every single nerve ending on fire. The way you can physically crave another human being. She was just as familiar with the comfort that can only come from a long-term relationship. The complete freedom of knowing you can be yourself and someone will love you at your worst. The shared memories and history that emotionally bond you to another human being.

Now, Sloan realized that only with Noah Dawson was she capable of feeling both simultaneously.

She squeezed tighter, and so did he. She'd tried to avoid coming home, but here she was, back in Mallowater. She'd tried to avoid Crow's Nest Creek, but it was her first stop after pulling into town. And she'd tried to avoid Noah Dawson, only to be back in his arms. He and everything else in this godforsaken town were magnets. They'd been pulling her back since the moment she left.

But Sloan wouldn't stay in his arms. She wouldn't do what had been done to her. With all the strength she had, she let go.

"I need to go." She avoided his eyes.

"Sloan . . ."

"See you around," she added, grabbing her purse and charging out the door.