Chapter 2

chapter

two

Cal wasn't stalking her. At least not according to the laws of the state of California, which stated that the stalking victim must fear for their safety. He'd die before hurting Ellie, and despite all the pain between them, she knew that.

Okay. Yeah. Even in his head, sounded kind of stalker-like.

Fuck.

He'd waited patiently for nearly a year, hoping she'd give him a second chance, but she was still stubbornly determined to avoid him. So maybe he'd arranged to run into her occasionally, but that was not stalking. That was... strategic coincidences. Yes, he liked the sound of that much better.

As he watched Ellie's retreating figure disappear into the distance, loss settled heavily in his chest. The sight of her walking away was always like watching a piece of his own soul fade into nothingness.

"You're being creepy," a familiar voice called from behind him. "I told you not to be creepy."

He turned to see Connelly Davis sitting at one of the nearby picnic tables with his ever-present laptop, his dark hair wind-mussed, the stubble on his jaw about three days past a five o'clock shadow. Obviously, Connelly was deep into a book. He always started to look a bit homeless by the time he finished one, though it wasn't quite as bad now that he was a married man. Veronica reminded him to interact with real humans, not just fictional ones, and she kept him from going full hobo.

"You're one to give relationship advice, Conn. Didn't you pine after Veronica for decades before finally doing something about it? And, dude, you slept on her front porch for weeks until she let you in."

"It was one week." Connelly glanced up from his laptop and looked at him flat-eyed, unamused. "And I'm not giving you relationship advice. I'm giving you don't-be-a-stalker advice."

"Strategic coincidences," Cal corrected. He walked over and slipped onto the bench across the table from him.

"Jesus, you're such a lawyer." Connelly snorted and returned to his writing. "That's the worst euphemism for stalking I've ever heard."

Over the past year, Cal had come to respect the horror writer's opinion on most things, but in this case, Connelly was wrong. "I was helping her with her dog. Explain to me how that's creepy, O Mighty King of Horror."

"Helping with the dog isn't creepy," Connelly said, not looking up from his screen. "Hanging around hoping she'll change her mind about you and give you another shot? Or that look you get when you're watching her, the one like you're about to break into a Shakespearean sonnet or something?—"

"I do not have a look."

Connelly ignored him. "That is borderline stalker territory."

Cal scowled. "I'm not maliciously harassing her or making threats to her safety. Hence, I'm not stalking her."

"Uh-huh." Connelly finally glanced up, his expression neutral. "Look, Cal, man to man... let it go. She doesn't want anything to do with you. It may not be stalking according to the law, but Vee has become pretty good friends with both Alexis and Ellie, and I've overheard them talking. You are creeping her out."

"Shit. That was never my intention." Cal dropped his head into his hands and groaned. "I just… I don't know what to do. I've never felt like this about anyone. She's…"

"She's what?" Connelly prompted when he trailed off.

"She's... she's everything. She's brilliant and funny. She's independent and stubborn as hell. She's so goddamn beautiful but doesn't know it. She's passionate about her work and has more compassion in her little finger than most people have altogether. I've never met anyone like her."

"All right," Connelly said after a pause. "I'm going to give you some advice then. Straight-up relationship advice this time."

He lifted his head from his hands. "I'm listening."

Connelly leaned forward on the table. "If you care about her as much as you say you do, then respect her decision. Maybe she'll come around again, but it won't happen because you've engineered some situation to run into her. It'll happen because she decides she wants to see you."

All the air left him in a hard exhale. He'd been trying so hard to prove to Ellie that their relationship was worth another shot, but all he had accomplished was driving her further away.

"What ever happened with your little side project?" Connelly asked suddenly.

He winced. One night over beers at The Mad Dog, he'd told Connelly about the plan to win Ellie back by finding out what happened to her long-missing older sister, Hope. It had been a stupid long shot, but he'd been desperate enough—and cocky enough—to think he could solve a mystery that had stumped investigators for twenty years. "In 2004, Hope Summers left her home in Chicago, climbed into a black 1977 Trans Am with California plates and a Mt Humboldt sticker on the back window—and vanished off the face of the Earth. For all the information I have, she could've been abducted by aliens."

"Well, that's probably for the better," Connelly said with a decisive nod. "You wanted to unearth a two-decade-old tragedy and parade it in front of the woman you claim to love? Man, that's not a gesture of love. That's a horror story."

Cal rubbed his face with both hands, guilt gnawing at his gut. He had considered the possibility that reviving the old wounds might cause Ellie more pain than peace, but had dismissed it, assuming she'd want answers more. "When you put it like that... Yeah, it does sound rather creepy."

"And desperate." Connelly folded his arms over his chest. "And manipulative. You really suck at romantic gestures, Holden."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Cal spread his hands in surrender. "It was a bad idea. All of it was a bad idea."

Connelly sighed and his expression softened. "Look, I get what it's like being in love with someone who doesn't return the feelings. It sucks. But using manipulative tactics isn't going to change her mind. It will only end up hurting her."

He opened his mouth to respond, but Connelly's phone sounded, and he shut his mouth as Conn dug the thing out of his pocket and checked the screen.

"Shit." Connelly grabbed his laptop and stuffed it into his battered leather case. "Call out. I gotta go."

"Where?" On top of being a former pararescue jumper and best-selling author, Connelly also served as a medic for Redwood Coast Rescue's K9 search and rescue team. His wife Veronica was their pilot.

"Up on the mountain." He jerked his chin toward the mountain looming against the blue summer sky to the northeast of town.

Cal stood. "I'll help."

"We can always use more volunteers, but don't you have lawyer shit to do?"

"That's the great thing about self-employment, my man. I set my own hours."

"I hear that." Connelly studied him for a moment. "You're not just volunteering because Ellie will be there?"

Genuine surprise coursed through Cal. "Wait, Ellie will be there?"

"Probably. Her dog's training for SAR."

Cal swallowed, realizing he'd walked right into a situation he had just sworn to avoid. But, backing out now would seem petty and cowardly. "I... didn't know that," he admitted, striving for nonchalance. "But I swear I'm not volunteering because of Ellie. I'm volunteering because you guys always need extra help and I have the time."

Connelly held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding approvingly. "Good answer." He stood up and started to walk away, then turned back and shoved a hand against Cal's chest. "One more piece of relationship advice, Holden. If Ellie ever does give you another shot, don't fuck it up again. You won't get a third chance."

The rescue went about as smoothly as rescue could. One of the dogs easily found the injured hiker in a canyon right off the main trail, and within hours, the guy was patched up by Connelly and airlifted to the nearest hospital by Veronica.

Ellie had indeed been there with Puzzle, his fuzzy golden tail wagging furiously in excitement at all the commotion. She scrambled over the rough terrain, not caring about the dirt or sweat coating her face, and patiently gave the puppy instructions and encouragement when he went awry. She always threw herself wholeheartedly into whatever she did.

It was just another reason Cal loved her.

But he kept his distance, sticking to Connelly's advice about giving her space. Instead, he focused on helping where he could—lugging equipment up the trail, handing out water bottles to the searchers. And if he were honest with himself, he found he genuinely enjoyed being part of the rescue effort.

The sun was setting by the time they made it back to Redwood Coast Rescue's headquarters. Ellie was there, too, sitting on a bench with her curly blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, her face now cleaned of dirt. There was a lightness about her now that he hadn't seen before. She laughed and joked with the team like she'd always been a member. Knowing he wasn't part of her happiness hurt. But at the same time, if this was what she wanted—to be free of him—then he would respect it.

Cal's heart flipped when she looked up and their eyes met. There was a momentary flash of surprise in her gaze before it turned cold. She quickly looked away, moving her attention back to Alexis who was saying something while gesturing with her hands.

"Hey." Zak Hendricks clapped a hand on Cal's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Great work today."

"Yeah, thanks," Cal said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Glad I could help."

"You're a good man, Holden."

That brought a bitter smile to his face as his gaze drifted back to Ellie. "I wish she believed that."

Zak followed his gaze and smirked. "She's a tough one, our Ellie. Got a heart as big as the ocean, but walls thicker than a bank vault."

"You wouldn't know how to break into a bank vault, would you?"

"Sorry, man. Not my area of expertise."

Ellie's eyes met his. She quickly looked away, but not before he saw a flicker of something else in her gaze—uncertainty? Sympathy?

His heart clenched in his chest. He wanted to go to her, to ask her if there was any chance they could try again, to tell her how much he missed being with her.

But instead, he turned to Zak. "I'm gonna head home. I have a long day in court tomorrow."

"Hey, if you ever want to change careers, there's room for you on the team. We just have to find you a dog."

"Nah. I'll stick to the lawyering and leave the rescuing to you guys. Besides, who would bail your asses out of legal hot water if I quit?"

Zak rubbed a hand over his short hair and looked toward his men. "We do seem to find ourselves in legal trouble a lot, don't we?"

"Redwood Coast Rescue is single-handedly paying my student loan bills."

Zak's deep laugh followed him to his car. As he opened his door, Puzzle came bounding over, tail wagging and tongue lolling out. He dropped a slobber-covered ball at Cal's feet and then proceeded to sit down, looking up expectantly.

"Hey, buddy." He stooped down to pick up the stick, only to find it wasn't a ball at all. It was a rolled up sock. Puzzle fiercely claimed it back, growling, engaging him in a game of tug-of-war.

"Puzzle, drop it!"

At Ellie's voice, Cal dropped the sock and rose to his feet, his heart jumping around like a damn kangaroo in his chest. She was walking towards him, her cheeks flushed, blue eyes wary behind her glasses. The puppy seized the opportunity and ran off with his victory sock, all ungainly legs and paws, tail waving like a flag.

"Ellie." Cal managed, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She stopped a few feet away, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill of the night. "Hi Cal," she said softly.

She was so stiff and formal with him—so different from the way she interacted with everyone else. He just wanted her to laugh with him like she did with the others and maybe, just maybe, to look at him with the same warmth that used to make his heart race.

"Hey." He shoved his hands into his pockets to hide the fact they were suddenly shaking.

"I didn't know you were volunteering with us now." Her gaze flicked over the worn Redwood Coast Rescue jacket that Zak had loaned him. Her voice didn't betray a trace of emotion.

"Yeah, I… erm…" He rubbed at the back of his neck. Why was he so flustered? "Well, I thought it was about time I contributed more than just legal advice."

"That's… that's good."

There was an awkward silence as he scrambled for something more to say.

"I should go," she said suddenly, taking a step back. She called for Puzzle, who came romping over. The sock was gone.

She rolled her eyes and clipped on his leash. "I really hope you didn't eat that."

"Whose sock was it?"

"No idea. He's like a sock detector. If there's one nearby, he always finds it."

She turned away, and his chest tightened in protest. He fucking hated watching her walk away from him.

"Ellie," he called before he could stop himself. "I've missed you."

His words hung heavily in the air between them, the sound of the team's laughter behind them seeming miles away.

She turned around, her eyes wide in surprise, lips slightly parted as if to say something. "I…"

Cal's heart pounded as he waited for her to continue, each passing second stretching into an eternity.

"It's late, Cal. I should go home."

Ignoring the sharp stab of disappointment, he nodded and attempted a smile. "Right. Yeah, of course."

Ellie nodded too, but there wasn't even an attempt at a smile on her face. Her eyes still seemed surprised—confused even—as they held his gaze for one more heartbreaking second before she turned around and walked back toward the group with Puzzle following at her heels.

Cal stood there watching until she was swallowed up by the group's laughter and chatter. He watched as Ellie threw her arms around Alexis, and even from this distance, he saw her face light up with laughter at something her sister said. It was a sight that brought back memories so fond that they were almost painful to relive. Memories of when he was the one Ellie threw her arms around.

Cal drove home in silence, the hum of the engine doing little to drown out the loud thoughts screaming in his head. By the time he pulled into his driveway, the stars were out in full force, glowing in a sky devoid of town's lights. He savored the tranquil silence as he climbed the stairs of his porch. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside and was greeted by a dark, lonely living room.

Maybe Zak was right.

Maybe he did need a dog.

As he kicked off his shoes, he found himself replaying every word, every glance, with the masochistic urge of a desperate man.

He sighed and tossed his borrowed Redwood Coast Rescue jacket aside before collapsing onto his couch. He let his head fall back against the cushion, utterly drained. He should go shower and go to bed, but he couldn't find the energy to move. His eyes drifted shut…

And his phone rang.

A slow sigh escaped him as he opened his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands. He checked the time. Four a.m. Shit. He'd slept right there on the couch for three whole hours.

"Goddammit." He rubbed at the crick in his neck. That three hours was going to have to be enough. A call this late meant one of his clients had gotten into trouble, which meant a trip to either the sheriff's office or the prison.

He leaned over the edge of the couch and fumbled around on the floor until he found his phone in the pocket of the jacket. The screen flashed "Unknown caller." He hesitated for a moment before answering. Usually his late night calls came from the jail.

"Hello," he said, forcing his voice to sound neutral.

"Is this Callum Holden, the lawyer?" A girl's voice, barely more than a whisper.

"It is. How can I help you?"

She was silent for a moment. "You've been asking around about Hope?"

He bolted upright so fast his head swam. "Who is this?"

No answer.

"Is this about Hope Summers?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When she finally spoke again, he had to strain to hear her. "She's missing."

"I know. She's been missing for twenty years."

"No, I…" Her voice trailed off. When she came back, she sounded scared. "I-I shouldn't have called."

The line went dead.

He redialed, and it rang and rang and rang.

No answer.

He hung up and dialed the sheriff. It took two calls, but Ash Rawlings finally picked up.

"Holden," Ash growled. He sounded out of breath and more pissed off than usual. "This better be important."

Cal winced. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what the sheriff and his wife had been doing. "Sorry to interrupt."

Ash's grumble of irritation rumbled over the line. "Well, you did. So what's so important you had to call me in the middle of the night on my one day off?"

"I just got a call from an unknown number... a woman. Or girl. She sounded young and scared. She asked about Hope Summers."

The other end of the line went silent. The only sign that Ash hadn't hung up was the faint sound of his breathing.

"What did she say?" Ash asked with reluctant interest.

"She said that Hope was missing."

"That's not news, Holden."

"I know, but there was something about the way she said it. It sounded... recent."

"Did she say anything else?"

"She hung up before I could ask."

"Did you get a name? A number?"

"I have a number. I called back and it rang, but nobody picked up. Something's not right about this. I could hear it in her voice. She seemed scared, Ash. Really scared."

Ash grunted. "You've got to be kidding me. It's probably just some kid playing a prank."

Every instinct he had screamed otherwise. "I really don't think so. Could you trace the call?"

There was another moment of silence, then a resigned sigh. "Yeah. I'll see what I can do. In. The. Morning."

"And keep me posted."

"Yeah, yeah," Ash said dismissively and hung up, but Cal knew he'd do it. Despite their constant bickering and Ash's tough exterior, he was a good cop and a better man. He wouldn't brush this off.

Knowing sleep would be impossible, he ran through a shower, changed his clothes, and headed into his office. To his surprise, Ash called back less than two hours later. Apparently, the sheriff hadn't been able to sleep, either.

"It's a payphone."

He sat back in his office chair. "I didn't realize payphones still exist."

"Me either, but there are still two working ones in the county. One's at the truck stop outside of town. It works, but it's more of a novelty than anything else."

"And the other?"

"Is at the old general store on Redwood Road."

Cal frowned. The general store used to be the last stop for campers and hikers heading up the mountain, but it had been closed for years. "And it's still working?"

"It matches the number you gave me," Ash replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "And the bill for it is paid every month, so yeah. It's still working. That's where your mystery girl called from."

"Thanks."

"Holden, don't go doing something stupid, or I'll?—"

Cal ended the call before the sheriff could finish his threat. If there was a chance, however slim, that this could lead him to Hope or any information about her disappearance, he had to follow it. While his quest had started as a way to win Ellie back, sometime over the last few months, it had become personal. He wanted to find out what happened to Hope for himself. He needed to know what happened to her.

He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and headed out into the chilly dawn.