Grave Instinct Read online

  “What do you mean?” Nikki jogged alongside the sweaty horses, staring up at the riders, stung by a prick of alarm.

  “She couldn’t keep up,” Theresa, the second rider said. “So we told her she should go back to the barn. It was the best thing.”

  The best thing? Nikki jerked to a stop, then turned and stared down the dark trail. Erin would be devastated. Pancho too.

  She swung around, her fists clenching. “It’s never the best thing. No horse likes to be ridden alone in the woods. Even a quiet horse like Pancho. And if you don’t know that by now, you’re all idiots.”

  She wanted to call them worse, but unlike Justin, her sister didn’t appreciate it when Nikki stood up to the older kids. Now though, it would be doubly hard to build up Erin’s confidence. Hopefully by the time she returned, Nikki would be able to convince her that these selfish girls weren’t worth anything but pity.

  She even started rehearsing, knowing from experience what her sister would like to hear: that Theresa had a frog face, that Kimberley had been caught cheating on a math test, and—Nikki’s ace in the hole—that Justin said Erin was a better rider than all three of them.

  She paced back and forth outside the barn, thinking about what she’d say and how to say it. But she never had the chance to pump up her sister. Never had the chance to help her unsaddle Pancho or reassure her about how much nicer she was than those three entitled girls. The pep talk didn’t happen.

  Because Erin never came back.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Twelve years later

  Nikki Drake propped her feet on her office desk and leaned further back in her chair. It wasn’t the most professional of poses but she didn’t have many drop-in visitors and never this early in the morning. Clients had to drum up their courage before hiring a private investigator, especially when it involved cheating spouses. Adultery cases were her least favorite but she had to take them to pay the rent. And to keep Gunner in premium dog food.

  She reached down, trailing her hand over her Shepherd’s head. Gunner lay on his mat close to the base of her swivel chair, a position where he could watch both her and the door. Judging by the prick of his ears someone had entered the stairwell. Odds were good that the person would stop at the office closer to the steps. Sonja’s Psychic and Parties received more visitors than Nikki’s fledgling investigative company.

  Sighing, she continued scanning her email, warming at the message from a recent client. Thank-you notes were rare but always motivating.

  “You deserve the credit on that one, Gunner,” she murmured. The lady’s wandering Shetland pony had squeezed beneath a fence and fallen into a deserted well. If not for Gunner’s keen nose, no one would have checked the overgrown brush that concealed the deadly hole. Not in time anyway.

  Not all her cases were that simple or ended so happily. Most of them were boring, especially the snooze-inducing surveillance that came with her job. Robert Fletcher, family friend and the man who had mentored her in the business, had taught her to concentrate on insurance fraud and infidelity. That way she’d be assured a regular paycheck. But her true passion was reuniting families.

  Unfortunately she never landed that type of case. And now that Robert had retired, she had to bring in her own business. But five years’ experience, three of them as a lowly apprentice, didn’t instill confidence from potential clients. Families of the missing wanted proven track records. She’d felt the same way back when her sister disappeared.

  Gunner’s tail thumped, announcing a visitor and one he welcomed. She knew it was Robert by his familiar tread and the sound of humming. But breaking news at the bottom of the screen grabbed her attention. For a moment she quit breathing. A teenage girl hadn’t returned from a trail ride. And just like Erin, the horse had been found. But not the rider.

  The door clicked open. She glanced up, staring mutely at the silver-haired man who’d entered her office. He balanced two cups of coffee along with a paper-wrapped dog bone in his left hand before deftly closing the door behind him.

  Her gaze jerked back to the news bulletin, her breath escaping in a horrified whoosh. “I have to go! A teenage girl is missing. And it sounds like the same barn where Erin disappeared.”

  “I heard.” Robert set the coffee down and settled into the visitor’s chair. “That’s why I dropped by so early. Because you need to sit back and not tear off like some vigilante.”

  “But I need to get out there.” She unlocked her gun drawer, almost bumping Gunner who was sitting now, nose twitching.

  “Let’s discuss this first,” Robert said, his voice as calm and reasonable as when he’d taught her to swim. “You know the police won’t let you near the scene. Are you sure it’s the same riding stable?”

  “It has to be. They don’t identify it but there’s only one big horse barn on Quarry Road.” She laid her Glock on the desk and peered back at her screen, hungry for details. “Maybe this person took them both. That could mean Erin is still alive.”

  “It’s been twelve years,” Robert said. “The probability—”

  “I know.” She paused to reassure Gunner who stared up at her, alarmed by the firmness of her voice. But she didn’t want Robert to finish the sentence, even though she accepted Erin was likely dead. The details around her sister’s disappearance were just too murky.

  Erin’s horse had been found by the brook, tied to a tree bordering the clearing. The lead line had been safely attached to the halter beneath Pancho’s bridle. The knot had been a proper quick release. A horseperson would never tie a horse by the bridle reins, but the average abductor wouldn’t know that. The stirrups had also been raised so they wouldn’t get caught on a tree or thump Pancho’s sides.

  Accordingly, police had concluded Erin dismounted, made sure her horse was safe then walked out of the woods on her own. So they probably hadn’t searched the area as thoroughly as they should have. Nikki’s belief there’d been a less-than-proper search still nagged at her.

  The disappearance of a second girl changed everything. Maybe a predator was holding the girls in an underground bunker. That area was a perfect place to hide. The woods were so thick that both riders and hikers stuck to the trails, with the brook serving as a natural boundary.

  Or maybe there hadn’t been an abduction. Maybe there was an abandoned well, just like the one that had trapped the Shetland pony. Searchers had concentrated on the wooded area between the stable and the clearing where they’d found Pancho, but maybe Erin had walked in the opposite direction, too hurt and embarrassed to return to the barn after being dumped by her pseudo friends. She could have fallen into a concealed pit.

  Nikki gripped the sides of her desk, tortured by thoughts of Erin dying—slow and alone—at the bottom of an overgrown hole. Her sister had always hated to be alone. She reminded herself that Erin’s phone had never been found, and Erin wouldn’t have hesitated to call Nikki. Maybe not the first half hour but she wouldn’t have left Pancho tied to a tree any longer than that.

  She would have asked Nikki to walk to the clearing and collect him…unless her phone was smashed. Falling into a hole could have done that, which would explain why the police had never been able to trace it.

  Nikki pried her fingers off the desk, her thoughts crystallizing. Robert’s advice was always sound and she knew it was prudent to slow down and process this development. In her most optimistic scenarios, her sister was living on a Caribbean island, in the arms of a wonderful man who had whisked her away from mean girls, mucking out manure, and a stubborn little sister who’d just wanted Erin to keep liking horses.

  But with this new rider missing, it seemed more likely that Erin had been abducted. And Nikki didn’t have to process any more. She certainly wasn’t going to sit back and wait. Because if that predator were still out there, she intended to find him.

  Robert was busy removing the wrap from the dog bone, and she didn’t want to waste time arguing. He’d been the best man at her parents’ wedding and was always support
ive, more like a father figure than anyone else. Once Robert realized she’d never give up looking for Erin, he had mentored Nikki in his office, insisting she put in the hours and earn a proper investigative license.

  He’d even sent her to Japan to strengthen her aikido training and though he’d retired his license three years ago, he was always available for a consult. He was one of the few men Gunner trusted, although any dog would adore someone who kept a supply of meaty bones on hand. She didn’t always follow Robert’s advice, but she always gave him the respect he deserved.

  Tamping down her impatience, she watched as Gunner lifted the bone from Robert’s outstretched hand. He lay down on his mat, the bone between his paws then stared up at her, asking for permission.

  “Okay,” she said, waving a hand. She’d let him enjoy the bone for a few minutes because Robert was correct about one thing. The police would never let her near the scene. Robert had worked for the force for twenty years before becoming an investigator. He knew how they operated. As a result, so did she.

  “How would you handle this?” she asked, ostensibly putting away her Glock and picking up a pen.

  “Wait,” Robert said. “See what the police turn up. The girl’s name is Savannah Whynot. If she remains missing, the family will be more open to hiring their own investigator. I have a friend who’s checking into their finances. Remember, you can’t afford to take any more cases without pay.”

  She doodled on a sheet of paper, pressing the pen much harder than necessary. They both knew she had her own views about compensation and further discussion would only waste time. She hadn’t entered this profession to become rich. Her goal was to help, and she especially wanted to help families like hers, ones who couldn’t afford an investigator. She’d been paid well for finding the pony so she had enough in her bank account to cover this month’s expenses. She certainly had enough gas to drive out to Quarry Road. The area adjoining the west side of the property was state-owned and too big for the police to block access. And nothing was going to stop her from searching for this girl.

  “I’ll check with my contacts,” Robert said. “Hopefully they’ll find her before the day is out. But if they don’t, and it turns out to be the same stable…” He gave a slow head shake. “This could be our breakthrough. We just have to be patient.”

  She nodded, trying not to glance at the computer as he went on to speak about the perils of working personal cases. She’d heard his warnings so many times, knew firsthand how hard it was to remain objective. Admittedly, patience wasn’t her strong suit especially when Erin might still be out there.

  “So you see,” Robert added, “it’s easy to miss critical details when you have such a personal stake. Best to let the searchers do their job. When I get back, I’ll make some calls. Find out what they know and we can work from there. In the meantime, I had an inquiry from someone who wants security for a silver anniversary party. Sounds like the perfect gig for you. I asked him to forward all the details.”

  He rose and nodded goodbye, murmuring about an early tee time. In the far corner, Gunner gnawed on his bone, his tail thumping contentedly as Robert strode from the office.

  “Leave it.” Nikki shot from the chair the instant Robert’s steps faded. Tossing her pen aside, she scooped up her gun and backpack. Robert was methodical and experienced and she valued his advice, but he was much too plodding. There was no way she was going to sit back and twiddle her thumbs. Not when this new disappearance might be related to Erin.

  Besides, she might be able to help find Savannah. She didn’t have a trained police dog by her side when her sister disappeared. Now she did.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Here’s a coffee for you,” Nikki said, as she stepped into the adjacent office, although office was hardly the proper word for the exotic space Sonja had created. Even Gunner seemed intimidated by the crystals, candles and hint of incense.

  “And that is why you are my most favorite person in the world,” Sonja said, gratefully accepting the cup and waving at a cushioned wicker chair. “Do you have time to sit? My next client cancelled.”

  “Can’t.” Nikki shook her head. “Heading out on a job. Don’t even have time to drink the coffee Robert brought.”

  “I assume this job is something in the woods.” Sonja’s nose wrinkled as her eyes swept over Nikki’s T-shirt and tight ponytail. “You’d have more men than Robert in your life if you ditched the jeans and hairy dog.”

  Nikki grinned. At first she’d been wary of Sonja. They had completely opposite tastes in clothes, politics and pizza. And Sonja’s impassioned talk about energy and free will was always disconcerting. However, the woman’s flamboyant style hid an insightful intelligence and love of animals that Nikki appreciated.

  “It’s hard to work in a skirt and heels,” Nikki said.

  “Not if you’re doing insurance jobs. I thought you were going to focus on clients who actually paid their bills. I don’t want you losing your office space.”

  “That won’t happen.” Nikki spoke firmly, shutting down the subject.

  Sonja pursed her lips but said no more. And despite her joke about Gunner, she was already reaching into a glittering crystal bowl, something she kept filled with treats ever since “the hairy dog” had protected her from an abusive visitor. Reality was Sonja had plenty of hairy critters of her own. She even looked after Gunner on her hobby farm when Nikki had out-of-town jobs and a couple times had dressed him up as a lion for her psychic parties. Though neither woman fully understood each other’s profession—nor wanted to—they had developed a genuine friendship.

  Sometimes Sonja’s flare for clothes reminded Nikki of Erin. Maybe that’s why Nikki had let Sonja break down her customary reserve. Robert, however, remained less than enthused that a psychic had moved into the adjacent office.

  “It makes your PI business look unprofessional,” he’d said. “Sonja’s just another self-proclaimed expert. I don’t believe in all that hokey pokey stuff.”

  Neither did Nikki. Although only six months ago she’d thought she spotted Erin working the streets and was so convinced she’d agreed to have a psychic reading. Sonja had squashed her fear that Erin had been forced into prostitution, but made it infinitely worse when she’d stated Erin was dead and that Nikki wouldn’t be happy until she let go of her self-blame.

  That had put a chill in their relationship that had lasted weeks. Now Nikki politely declined any offers of psychic services, even something as simple as a tarot reading. She valued their friendship too much.

  “Can’t you sit down for five minutes?” Sonja pleaded. “Surely your client can wait that long.”

  “It’s not a client,” Nikki said, keeping a firm hand on the door handle. “It’s personal. See you tomorrow.”

  Gunner looked similarly disappointed that they weren’t staying but Sonja tossed him a dog treat. He caught it in the air, devouring it in a crunching bite as he followed Nikki out the door.

  They circled around the building to the back alley where Nikki usually jammed her car. Already the smell of freshly baked pizza filled the morning air, mingling with shampoo and soap from the adjacent barber shop. The tattoo parlor was still locked, but the owner of the consignment shop gave Nikki a cheery wave. This was a blue collar area, occupied by a motley range of businesses. Robert had suggested she take over his office in a more established part of the city but the rent had been astronomical, and she didn’t want to owe him anything more than she already did. Besides, this area and the people suited her. It also had a spot filled with grass and hardy dandelions that was excellent for dog breaks.

  Gunner jumped into the back of her Subaru and forty minutes later, they’d escaped the city traffic and turned onto the pitted blacktop toward Quarry Road. She slowed, peering through the windshield for familiar landmarks. This area was a mix of farm and woodland, never densely populated, and the bumps that had rocked the school bus had deepened.

  She veered around a jagged pothole that would have s
hredded her tire then checked on Gunner who was sprawled behind her on the fold-down seat. His head rested on his paws, but his eyes and ears were alert, studying the grazing animals with interest.

  He seemed equally at home in the country as the city. While Sonja kept a variety of rescue animals on her farm, Gunner hadn’t been exposed to horses much, at least to Nikki’s knowledge. She’d stopped riding the day Erin disappeared.

  Those first years had been rough. Her mother had withdrawn into a shell, alternating between stony silence and accusations, followed by weepy apologies. Nikki’s guilt had twisted into anger. She’d spent more time fighting in school than learning. Robert had done all he could, dropping off groceries, paying for therapists and trying to help them manage their grief. However, he hadn’t been able to help her mother.

  Nikki’s fingers tightened around the wheel and she glanced back at Gunner again, comforted by his solid presence. He was staring at something to his right, and she followed his gaze, surprised she’d almost driven past the stable.

  The barn looked smaller, the white rail fences not as tall or impressive. It was definitely the search hub though. Trucks, trailers and all-terrain vehicles clogged the parking lot. From this distance it was impossible to see if there was a K-9 unit on site. Media vans were parked on the shoulder of the road but a deputy blocked the driveway with his car. The whole thing was sickeningly familiar and her gut clenched with foreboding.

  She forced her sweaty hands to loosen and continued past the gravel driveway. The deputy scowled, probably labeling her as rubber-necking sightseer. Obviously she wouldn’t be allowed entry. But the presence of empty all-terrain trailers confirmed the search was still active. One positive, at least.

  Besides, she didn’t need to use the front entrance. A network of public trails crisscrossed the land adjacent to the stable, and she’d ridden on many of them. It would be impossible for police to block every trailhead.