Page 105 of High Water

“We’re gonna find her, Aspen. You know we won’t stop until we have her back home in your arms. Whatever it takes, we’ll get her back to you as fast as we can.” I do my best to sound confident and well measured as I attempt to reassure my wife.

We have to find her. The alternative is more than I can bear.

FORTY-FOUR

Aspen

After a fitful night of no sleep, my head is pounding, and I feel like I’m swaying in the wind with every step I take, my ears stuffed with cotton, and my eyes so swollen from crying that everything looks a little blurry. I take two pain relievers and down a glass of water, trying to bring myself back from the dead. I can’t believe this is real. Any of it.

Fallon just disappears into the night, and even with all my family’s resources and connections, we still haven’t found her by the next morning. It’s unbelievable in this small town. And yet somehow, it’s all very real. I want to cry again. I feel like I should be able to. But unfortunately, despite all the pain—physical and emotional—I can’t. I’ve cried them all, it seems. I’m left with a sharp sense of misery. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a deep pool of hopelessness, clinging to whatever tidbits I have left while the world spins on without me like nothing’s wrong. I’m still getting emails from work, advertisements to buy more coffee, and a calendar reminder to get the oil checked on my car. But I can’t bring myself to care about anything but my little girl not being here.

Bishop got up in the wee hours of the morning, no more able to sleep than I was. He offered to take me with him searching, but I told him I wanted to be home just in case. I wanted someone here on the off chance she comes walking in through the door after sneaking through some side entrance of the resort, hoping to avoid trouble. She’d have a heap of it for keeping us all up and worried like this when she got home. As much as I hate the idea of her lying to me and sneaking out into the middle of the night, I’d rather that than any of the alternatives.

I glance down and see my phone light up with a call. It’s Sheriff Jay Stockton, my uncle. We had to involve the police late last night when we couldn’t find her, and the massive crawl of Grant and Levi’s men through the city made residents uneasy.

My uncle has a complicated relationship with my brothers and me. We loved him endlessly growing up. But when Uncle Creighton died, everything changed. He was so angry, according to my father, that he didn’t get half of everything the way he thought he would. He disappeared, and when he came back, installed as the sheriff by the governor, he made an attempt on my family’s lives. All of them.

Grant and Levi forgave him for the offense when they learned he was forced to do it to protect his daughter from the governor’s men. But they’ve never quite trusted him again. That’s the thing about Stocktons. We might find it in our hearts to forgive, but we never forget. So having to rely on him now as a source of truth and help during this time makes me anxious.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Aspen?” he questions.

“Yes.”

“Good. I was hoping I’d get you directly.”

“Do you have information? Any leads or tips from your officers?” I ask, suddenly hopeful that the reason for his call is positive, since he wants to talk to me.

“Something like that. I need you to come meet me so I can show you something.”

“Meet you where? Show me what?” I stand up abruptly, staring into the distance.

“Come meet me at the diner off Highway 50. I’ll be in the back. And come alone. Your brothers will complicate the situation.”

“What situation?”

“I’ll explain when you get here.”

“What does that even mean? Why can’t you tell me now?”

“Because I can’t. Anyone could be listening in, and I can’t risk it. Leave your family at home. Come alone. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes.”

My heart is racing by the time he disconnects the line. I stare at my phone for half a second before I rush to get dressed. I’m probably taking way too big a risk showing up to this meeting alone, but if he’s worried about my brothers complicating it, I have to assume it’s a real threat. That someone could have Fallon right now. And I don’t have time to be scared. I have to take care of my daughter.

I grab a piece of paper from my office and scribble where I’m going and who I’m meeting on it, leaving it on top of my laptop just in case this isn’t the friendly family meeting of support I’m hoping it is. If I call or text them, they’ll rush over, and I’m trying to do this the way Jay asked. My uncle seems like he turned over a new leaf. He’s been cooperating and doing his best to help my brothers the last year. But a turncoat is a turncoat. You can never fully trust them again.

I walk to the back of the diner, where I find him in civilian clothes, casually eating hash browns and drinking coffee along with his eggs and bacon. My stomach grumbles, annoyed to be empty but still completely devoid of any interest in food. I can’t eat at a time like this; I don’t want to. I also don’t want to waste my time eating if he’s about to give me something that could lead to me taking Fallon home today.

“Hello. Do you want some coffee?” he offers, motioning for me to take a seat on the bench across from him. It’s the least of my worries.

“I want to know why I’m here.”

“Down to business, just like your brothers.”

“We have priorities. The first and only right now being my daughter. Where is she?”

“Well, you certainly have a way about you. That’s for sure.” He shakes his head, tucking back another bite before he pushes his plate aside.