“I was hunting.”
Nathan was always hunting. “Did you come across anything unusual down by the road?”
“No.”
He’d have to be direct. “What about a truck? You find any stranded motorists?”
“They weren’t stranded.” Static came over the channel.
Ethan swore, but he had reached the entrance to the pass, and there was no time to mince words with his brother. He pulled over, putting the truck into park as he hung the mike back on the unit.
He’d told his father after he’d taken the badge and sworn his oath that he had to enforce the law, no matter who broke it, or why. Until tonight he’d never been obliged to, but now, thanks to his damn brother, he just might have to keep that threat.
Ethan got out to walk the rest of the way to the road and see what kind of mess had been left behind. Before he had gone a few yards, he saw shadows near the trees move, and a figure separate from them.
PART THREE
Hunter Moon
September 29, 1999
Santa Lucia, California
“A C in English. A D in Calculus. An F in Bible Study.” Evelyn Emerson dropped the report card on the gleaming marble of the coffee table. “How could you let your grades drop this much? Why didn’t you ask to stay after school and do some extra credit?”
Elle almost reminded her that she had, although the nuns wouldn’t allow her to do extra credit while serving out her detentions. But her mother’s voice was already starting to climb toward the piercing octave she used when she was outraged. “I’m really sorry, Evelyn.”
“Are you.” Her mother went to the bar and poured two inches of brandy into a snifter.
Elle stayed in her penitent position on the edge of the antique love seat and stared at the pile of glossy French fashion magazines that her mother never read. The maid changed them once a week, along with the crystal vases of fresh-cut flowers that had no fragrance, and the dish of Swiss chocolates that Elle was never permitted to touch. Everything in her mother’s sitting room was beautiful and polished as if they lived in a display case in a museum. In a sense it was: an ongoing exhibit of Evelyn’s own genius at interior design that changed with her moods and the seasons.
Sometimes Elle imagined that they lived like dolls in a playhouse, just two figurines that were moved around and posed by some giant, unseen hand.
“Is it some boy?” her mother asked suddenly. “Is that what is responsible for this behavior?”
Elle choked back a laugh. “I go to an all-girls school, Evelyn.” She hated using her first name, but her mother refused to be called Mom, Mother, or anything else. “The only time I see boys is when we drive through town, and you don’t let me out of the car.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know how resourceful you teenagers are.” Evelyn finished her drink. “Who is it, then? The brother of one of your friends? Are you meeting one of them behind my back?”
“Well, there is this really cute altar boy I see every Sunday at church, but I think he’s a little young for me.” She cringed as Evelyn strode over to her. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
“I’m not laughing,” she snapped. “Neither should you, considering what your birth mother did to you.”
Not my birth mother again. Elle closed her eyes. “Please, Evelyn. Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t talk about her, the schoolgirl who conceived you in the backseat of some car, and abandoned you the day you were born?” Her mother made a contemptuous sound. “Don’t remind you that if it wasn’t for me, you’d be in some dreadful foster home, being starved or beaten or molested?”
“I’m very grateful that you adopted me,” Elle said quickly. “I know how lucky I am.”
“I didn’t simply adopt you, Lillian.” She sat down beside her and took hold of her hands. “I saved you. I gave you my name, and brought you into my home, and cared for you. I put you in the best Catholic school in the country so that you could get a decent education.” She drew back, her expression hurt. “And this is how you repay me.”
“I try, I really do.” Criticizing the stern nuns who taught her would only enrage her mother, who thought that the sisters were perfect. “It’s me. I’m just not that smart. I forget the rules sometimes and I speak out of turn. But I’ll work harder, I promise. And I’ll behave.”
“I’ve never expected you to get straight A’s, have I? All I’ve asked is that you do your best.” Evelyn sighed. “With these grades you won’t even graduate, much less get into Holy Cross.”
“I know.”
“Sister Maria Paul called me at work this morning.” Evelyn folded her arms. “She says you’re becoming incorrigible. That you’re a bad influence on the other girls. She believes you’d be happier in public school.”
Elle stared at the nails the nuns had clipped short. I would be.
She didn’t realize she’d murmured it out loud until Evelyn grabbed her chin and made her look up. “Don’t even think it, you stupid little twit. With a public school record, you’ll never get into Holy Cross.” She got up and went to the window overlooking the formal gardens.
“I know it’s important to you, Evelyn.” Maybe this was the right time to talk about it. “But I think you should know that I want to go somewhere else for college.”
Her mother turned around. “What did you say?”
“You know how much I like working with the dogs and the horses.” She had to talk fast now before Evelyn’s temper exploded. “Every time Dr. Devereaux comes by to check on Dancer or give Royal his shots, he does ask me to help him. He says I have the touch, that animals trust me.” She could see how pink her mother’s face was, but she had to say the rest. “I don’t want to go to Holy Cross. I’m going to apply to vet school. I want to be a veterinarian.”
Evelyn seemed to wither in front of her eyes. “I should have seen this coming. You’ve spent half your life mucking around in that wretched barn and fooling around in the kennels.”
“It’s what I want to do with my life.” Elle watched her mother move like a sleepwalker toward her desk. “You want me to be happy, don’t you?”
“I want you to be a good girl, Lillian,” she said, as she had whenever Elle defied her. “Be a good girl, and you’ll get your reward.”
She was so tired of hearing that. “I can be a vet and still be a good girl, can’t I?”
Evelyn didn’t answer her; she picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Lyle? Yes, it’s Evelyn. Are you still interested in Dancer and the other horses? What are you offering?”
Elle rose. “What?”
Evelyn listened, and then nodded. “That’s acceptable. You can pick them up in the morning. Yes. See the stable manager. You’re quite welcome.”
“Wait. Evelyn. You can’t sell the horses.” Elle rushed to the desk and picked up the phone. “Call him back. Tell him it’s a mistake. You changed your mind. Evelyn, please.”
“It was foolish of me to indulge this ridiculous obsession you have with animals, but there is still time to correct the situation.” Evelyn took the receiver from her and hung it back up. “There will be no more talk about being a vet, or defying my wishes. You are going to apply yourself in school, bring up your grades, and behave yourself. When you graduate, you will attend Holy Cross.”
“You can’t sell Dancer.” Elle backed away from her. “I’ve had him since he was a colt. You gave him to me for my birthday.”
Not a flicker of pity passed over her mother’s cool features. “I know you’re upset now, but it’s for the best. Someday, when you understand, you’ll thank me for doing this, Lillian.”
“For doing what? For taking away everything I care about? The only thing that makes me happy?” She was shrieking now, but she couldn’t stop herself. “How could you? How could you?”
Elle ran from the sitting room and out into the reception hall, dodging around her mother’s housekeeper as she raced through the dining room and into the kitchen, where the cook and two maids were preparing the evening meal.
“Miss Lillian?”
Elle didn’t stop as she flung open the side door and flew outside, racing toward the barn. Huntley, the stable manager, came out of his office and blocked her path.
“Your mother just called down, miss,” he said. “She wants you back up at the house.”
“I’m not going back.” Elle went around him and strode back to Dancer’s stall. The gelding poked his head out and whickered softly as he watched her take down her saddle. When Elle turned and found Huntley standing between her and her horse, she took a deep breath. “My mother just sold Dancer and the other horses to Lyle Hamilton. He’s coming in the morning to pick them up.”
“So she told me, miss. I’m very sorry.”
He didn’t get it. “Mr. Huntley, once the horses are gone, what do you think you’re going to do around here?” Before he could answer, she added, “God, what am I going to do?”
“I think you’ll go back to the house, miss. I’d walk you up, but I have to head into town now.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’ll be picking up some supplies, getting a haircut and maybe a bite to eat. Probably’ll take me a good two, three hours.”
“Thank you, Mr. Huntley.”
As soon as the stable manager left, Elle saddled Dancer and mounted him, leading him out through the back of the barn. If Evelyn saw her from the windows, she couldn’t do anything to stop her. All the stable hands had gone home for the day, and Mr. Huntley’s Jeep was halfway down the long drive. None of the maids could ride.
Neither could Evelyn.
Elle barely nudged Dancer with her heels before he took off, breaking from a walk into a fast lope like a rocket. She crossed the back pasture and wheeled him around to the stretch of fence separating Emerson land from the first slope of the hills beyond it.
