The Cottages On Silver Beach

It was the least offensive of the names she wanted to call him but everything else seemed to clog in her throat. She couldn’t seem to think straight, her thoughts a wild snarl of anger.

“I don’t believe my mother would appreciate you calling her names,” he said stiffly.

Now she wanted to throw him in the lake, along with all his files.

“How dare you?” Her hands were shaking and the sick feeling in her stomach seemed to be spreading through the rest of her.

He gave her a cool stare. “I’ll remind you that I’m not the one who broke into your place and started digging through your belongings.”

In another moment, smoke would be coming out of her ears, she was sure of it. “I was cleaning the cottage! Making your bed, changing your toilet paper, dumping your trash. Twice-weekly housekeeping service is provided to the cottages. It was listed in your rental agreement.”

“It’s not necessary. I don’t like my things bothered.”

“Again, are you freaking kidding me? This isn’t about me reordering a few pieces of paper. This is about you dragging my family through hell again! You’re writing a book about Elizabeth’s case, aren’t you?”

He met her gaze with an impassive look of his own. The man never gave anything away. Did they teach FBI agents how to go all stone-faced at Quantico? He must have aced that class, as he’d been practicing since elementary school.

“No,” he finally answered.

She narrowed her gaze. His hair was wet and it took her a moment to realize it was drenched with sweat. He had been running again. He wore long shorts and a Denver Rockies T-shirt that clung to the muscles of his chest. His right arm was still in a sling and she couldn’t imagine all that bouncing around could be particularly healing.

He had no right to look so good, damn him. Not when he was a sneaky, underhanded snake.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he answered firmly. “The book I’m writing concerns a serial killer in Montana who preyed on hitchhikers in the seventies and early eighties.”

She frowned. “Then why do you have all of Elizabeth’s files? What does a serial killer in Montana have to do with a missing mother in Idaho? Do you think they’re connected?”

A little bubble of hope rose in her chest. How terrible, that she could actually want to cling to any possibility that someone else might have been involved in Elizabeth’s disappearance, even a serial killer.

She didn’t want Elizabeth to be dead. She just wanted to prove Luke had nothing to do with her disappearance.

Elliot quickly squashed that half-formed possibility.

“No,” he said bluntly. “James LeRoy Barker was killed in a shoot-out with local police three years before Elizabeth disappeared. He was dead and buried in an unmarked grave outside Great Falls before she ever vanished.”

Megan despised herself for the little niggle of disappointment. She truly didn’t wish harm on Elizabeth. She, like everyone else in town, only wanted answers.

“If this isn’t part of the book you’re writing, why do you have these files?” she asked again.

For a long moment, she wasn’t certain he was going to answer her. He shifted position almost imperceptibly then finally spoke. “The Lake Haven County Sheriff’s Department took over the investigation after my father was shot. The case has been cold for some time, though the investigation is still active. I asked Marsh if I could take a look at the files while I’m in town.”

“Can he do that? Just loan out police files willy-nilly?”

“There was nothing willy-nilly about it. I’m a sworn officer of the law, Megan.”

His words chilled her. “What are you saying? Is this an official FBI investigation now?”

Again he paused, obviously weighing his words carefully before he would respond. “No. I’m looking out of my own curiosity. This was the one case that haunted my father—and still haunts Marsh and Cade. A young mother of two small children, someone we all knew, disappears without a trace in the dead of night. The investigation is at a standstill. Everyone is frustrated by the lack of progress. Marshall and I decided a pair of fresh eyes looking at the files could only help the investigation.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “That’s where you’re wrong. It would hurt very much.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Of course you don’t! You have no idea what things are like here for Luke.”

His lips pursed. “He’s not in prison, so things can’t be that bad.”

“He might as well be! Imagine how you would like being tried and convicted without ever being charged with a single crime. As far as some people around Lake Haven believe, Luke killed his wife and got away with it. He and the children can’t go to the grocery store in Shelter Springs without whispers and rumors trailing after them like cats after dead trout. That’s Luke Hamilton, the man who killed his wife. I heard he killed her, chopped her into pieces and threw what was left into the middle of the lake.”

That was the least offensive of the things she knew Luke and the children had overheard at various times.

“Gossip can be vicious.”

“You have no idea. And it’s not even behind his back sometimes. People come right up to him and tell him he should be in prison.”

To her endless frustration, Luke never hit back. Whenever she was tempted to stand up for him, he would simply shake his head, place a steadying hand on her arm and say the same words.

Let it go. It doesn’t matter. We know the truth. I didn’t hurt Elizabeth. The answer to where she went has to be out there. Someday we’ll find out the truth.

She wasn’t as sanguine as he was, facing down the haters with her brother’s typical quiet patience. The reminder of all those slings and accusations made her fists clench again.

“Luke is just starting to put his life back together again. His business has picked up and Cassie and Bridger are doing better. The other kids at school no longer bring it up every day. Sometimes two or three days can go by without someone mentioning her. They’re moving on, Elliot. The last thing any of us needs is for some hotshot big-city FBI agent to waltz in and start stirring up the past again.”

“I’m only looking over old reports. That’s all.”

That wasn’t all and both of them knew it. If people found out someone like Elliot—considered a hometown hero by many, the very antithesis of Luke—was combing through Elizabeth’s case file, the sludge would come bubbling up to the surface again. All the old accusations and false claims. She couldn’t bear it.

“You can do it somewhere else.” She faced him down, willing her lips to stop quivering. “Gather your things and get out of my cottage.”

He looked startled. “What? Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking? I take threats to my family very seriously indeed. Get out.”

“I paid in advance for two more weeks.”

“So I’ll refund the balance. Do you honestly think any amount of money you could pay me would be worth letting you put my family through hell again? There are other rental properties in town. Find one of those.”

“I don’t want another one. I like this one. The bed is comfortable, it has a great view and it’s quiet. No one bothers me here.”

“Too bad for you. What you like or want stopped being important to me the moment I saw you were digging into Elizabeth’s case again.”

He leaned a shoulder against the door frame and studied her with an intensity that left her feeling exposed and disquieted. “I must admit, I find your reaction interesting. What are you so afraid I’ll find in those files?”

She glared. “Nothing! I just don’t want you dragging up the past.”

“I would think any loving family who lost someone important to them would want to know the truth about what happened to her.”