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The next morning, Cecily sipped coffee and nibbled at a banana from the motel’s complimentary breakfast bar. She watched Bryce go through juice, a bagel, and two muffins. Whenever their eyes met, she couldn’t help smiling. Much as she would have enjoyed a lazy, sexy morning, she’d rejected Bryce’s suggestion that he run out for more condoms.
“The malls don’t open until ten,” he’d said.
His phone burred an incoming call, and he checked the display. “It’s your brother.”
She set her banana down and leaned in, hoping she could hear whatever Derek had to say.
“Got something?” Bryce said.
“Yes, we do. Get your ass up here. Fast. If my sister is with you, bring her along.”
Cecily grabbed Bryce’s phone. “Derek. What did you find?”
“A phone hidden in Grady’s closet. We’re trying to decipher what’s on it,” Derek said. “When can you get here?”
“Over an hour. We’re in the Springs,” she said.
“What the hell are you doing down there?” Derek said.
“We were trying to find Grady.” Cecily shot a guilty look at Bryce. Had they missed something while she was escaping reality?
“Did you find him?” Derek asked. “Or anyone who knows him?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe we’ll find something on the phone that will help,” Derek said.
“We’re on our way.” Cecily handed Bryce the phone, and they dashed to the parking lot where they’d left his pickup.
As they drove, Bryce was his usual quiet self. At least she had a better understanding of why. They’d avoided talking about the lovemaking so far, not that she’d expected him to say anything. It hadn’t been making love. She’d accepted what she’d done for what it had been. A few hours of not caring for anyone but herself. Sex. Good sex. Better than good sex. But love? She didn’t think so.
Should she feel guilty? No. If she’d been in Pinon Crest instead of the Springs, would things be any different now? No. Yet she did feel guilty. But for what? For not being home, for not being able to find Grady, or for having sex with Bryce? She wasn’t sure.
She willed the truck to go faster, but Bryce was already going over the speed limit. Once they hit the pass, traffic slowed as the road filled with people heading up the mountain for views of the fall colors. All Cecily could do was hope none of the leaf peepers crashed on the winding road. No alternative routes meant one accident could close the pass for hours. With no radio reception to speak of, and since Bryce didn’t have satellite radio, there was no music to distract her.
Thinking about traffic kept her mind off of Grady and what Derek would tell them. But what if they’d been close to finding him, and driving to the Triple-D meant they’d missed him?
What had Bryce said last night? When there’s nothing you can do, kicking yourself for doing nothing eats away at you. She’d played and replayed everything more times than she could count and hadn’t come up with anything she could have done.
What else had he said? She cared too much. How could that be? How could he not care about people like Lemuel, like Grady? Like all the others who could benefit from support programs—not just hers. Like Sabrina’s cooking school. And the countless other programs out there. It was finding the right match. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t try, and if you didn’t try, you couldn’t help.
They reached the outskirts of Pinon Crest and, as it always happened if you were in a hurry, they hit all the red lights.
Eventually, they navigated the main street through town and were on the open road once again. She sensed the car moving faster. Maybe Bryce was anxious, too. Finally, they turned off the highway onto the side road to the Triple-D.
They pulled alongside of the house, and Cecily bolted out of the pickup. Charlie raced over from the front porch, giving her a quick sniff before letting Bryce know he was glad to see him. As if Charlie had been deserted for weeks, not a single day.
“Easy, boy,” Bryce said. “Let’s go find Derek.”
Cecily trotted up the steps and stepped into the living room. “Derek? We’re here.” She peeked into the kitchen where the aroma of coffee filled the air. Reasonably fresh, even. Bryce came in behind her, grabbed his usual mug and helped himself to a cup. Charlie sat expectantly, tail thumping, at Bryce’s feet.
“What?” Bryce said. “You aren’t fooling me with that look. Don’t try to convince me nobody feeds you.” With a grin, he crossed to a canister on the counter and tossed the dog a biscuit.
Derek strode in seconds later, carrying a coffee mug. “We’re downstairs,” he said, giving Cecily a curious once-over as he poured a refill.
She met his gaze, refusing to apologize for her make-believe homeless clothes.
Derek’s gaze flitted between her and Bryce, who got a glower from big brother. “Frank’s waiting.” He turned and left.
Downstairs? Cecily was finally going to get to see Derek’s secret hideaway. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took off after her brother.
In his study, the bookcase stood away from the wall. Derek smiled and gestured an invitation. “After you.”
She peered behind the opening, to the narrow stairway down to the sub-basement. Trying to keep from grinning at being admitted to Derek’s inner circle, she descended the stairs and entered a room that resembled Derek’s study upstairs—to a point. An oak desk, where Frank tapped away at a computer keyboard. Instead of the sofa, two recliners. The similarities stopped there. On the wall behind him were six computer monitors. One showed a picture of the drive to the ranch. The other five were blank. “Do I get the nickel tour?” she asked.
“Not much to see.” Derek pointed to one of two closed doors. “Bathroom. The other’s a bedroom.”
“I’ll bet you have a secret escape route,” she said.
Derek laughed. “Underground passage. Ends up in the old barn. We’re down here because this computer’s got better photo manipulation software.”
“Which,” Frank said, “would be easy enough to install on the ranch computer upstairs, but D-Man never got around to it.”
“I think it’s kind of cool down here, though,” Cecily said. “Now that we’re all together, what about the phone?”
“Sabrina found it,” Derek said. “She had some luggage stored in the guesthouse—from when she first moved here from Albuquerque—and needed one of the pieces for a trip she’s taking. When she opened the case, she found a metal strongbox she hadn’t put there.”
“Cut to the chase, D-Man,” Bryce said.
“Spoil my dramatic moment, will you?” Derek said. “She found a necklace—a gold heart pendant—and a cell phone.” He dangled the necklace, which caught the light as the heart spun on its chain. “I’m no jeweler, but I’d say it’s old. And valuable.”
“Any engraving on the necklace? Something to identify it?” Cecily took it from him, examined it. Not a locket. A heart, flat, with the center cut out. A pattern of entwined leaves in the gold sparkled, but there were no initials, nothing to point to its owner. She agreed with Derek that it was probably a valuable antique.
She followed her thought train, not thrilled with where it led. “You think Grady stole it. And someone’s after him for it. He’s not a thief.”
“He was picked up for shoplifting,” Bryce said.
Cecily glowered. “Incidentals. Food. Survival stuff. He wouldn’t have found this in a convenience store.” She handed the necklace to Derek.
“Yes,” Derek said. “I did consider the necklace as a motive for someone wanting to find Grady. It might be wise to let the police know, so they can see if it’s been reported stolen.”
Cecily started to object, but realized Derek was right. It was a potential lead to finding Grady. “I can call it in. If you take a picture, I’ll email that, too.”
“We’ll get to that,” Derek said. “The necklace and its inherent value notwithstanding, it was the cell phone that piqued my curiosity. It’s a cheap disposable phone with the battery removed, but we found it in the strongbox.”
“Without the battery, nobody could track Grady here—assuming it’s his phone,” Frank said.
Derek nodded. “Since he didn’t throw the phone away, I suspected there was something of value on it. Which is when I called Sherlock.”
Cecily positioned herself behind the desk where she could peek over Frank’s shoulder. The images on the screen were dark, the shapes amorphous. “What are those?”
“Still working on it. Cheap phone, lousy camera. Not much light. I’m trying to enhance what I’ve got, but this might need to go to someone with better equipment.”
“Wait.” Cecily pointed at the monitor. “Is that a person?”
“Think so,” Frank said. “I think there are several people here. I’m trying to lighten and brighten. There are a dozen images, but this one seems to have the most potential.”
“You’re sure they’re intentional photos?” Cecily asked. “Not the kind where you accidentally turn on the camera and don’t realize you’re taking them?”
“If that was the case, then why go to the trouble of hiding the phone where Grady did?” Derek said. “If he didn’t want to be found, all he needed to do was take out the battery. He could have left the phone in his duffle or a drawer, and put the battery somewhere else.”
Cecily lifted a shoulder. “He didn’t trust us.”
“Still doesn’t make sense,” Frank said. “Hiding the phone where he did—and according to Derek, Sabrina found it in the carryon bag, which was inside a larger bag, which was inside a third bag—means there was something on the phone he didn’t want discovered, but he wanted to keep whatever it was. These pictures are the only thing on the phone.”
“No calls?” she asked, not able to imagine someone having a phone and not using it. “What about texts?”
Frank shook his head. “A cyber-guy could dig them out, but if Grady made or received any calls or texts, he’s done a good job of deleting them from what we can access.”
“Like he must have done with his computer browsing history,” Bryce said.
“We went through that,” Cecily said. “There are some perfectly logical reasons he deletes everything as soon as he gets it.”
“Like he’s covering his tracks,” Bryce said, scarcely loud enough to be heard.
She heard him and frowned. Bryce. Always thinking the worst.
“Meanwhile, I might be able to find something useable in this image,” Frank said.
Cecily watched, fascinated, as he lightened the image, enlarged it, cut out a piece, and isolated it in a new image. She leaned in closer. Pointed at the screen. “Wait. Is that what I think it is?”