She dropped it on top of the cabinet and shuffled through the drawer where she’d found it. Nothing else jumped out at her, not even a spider.
Although the ribbon had spooked her, there was probably a good, reasonable explanation for its presence in the drawer—not that she could think of one now.
She grabbed another handful of papers and shoved them into the plastic garbage bag. The sooner she got Aunt Cass’s place ready, the sooner she could get out of this soggy hellhole.
And the sooner she could escape the tragedies of Harrison and Cheri. Damn Sheriff Sloane for naming them and making them human—a boy who liked dinosaurs and a girl who liked pink hair ribbons.
And damn Sheriff Sloane for peeling back her facade so easily. He’d just given her another reason to run back to Phoenix.
A man like that spelled trouble.
* * *
A FEW HOURS LATER, Kendall scrubbed the grit and dust from her skin under the spray of a warm shower—her first since arriving in Timberline because she’d forgotten to contact the gas company until she got here. If she’d known she would be having a meet and greet with the hunky sheriff in town, she would’ve gotten on that sooner.
She’d been dreading the social engagement tonight but after finding that ribbon and answering the sheriff’s prying questions, she was glad for the distraction.
Melissa Rhodes, a friend of hers from high school, had invited her over for a dinner party. Even if she didn’t plan to stay in Timberline longer than she had to, she’d use the time to catch up with some old friends—the few that still remained.
The dinnertime conversation had better not revolve around the current kidnappings or she’d have to cut the evening short.
She stepped into a pair of skinny jeans and pulled some socks over the denim and finished off with knee-high boots. Topped with a sweater, the outfit pretty much defined the casual look for the Washington peninsula.
Her flip-flops and summer skirts called to her, but she hadn’t even packed them for this cold climate.
She braided her long hair over one shoulder, brushed on a little makeup, and then yanked a wool shawl off the hook by the door.
Crossing her arms, she faced the living room and took a deep breath without worrying about choking on the dust for the first time since she’d arrived. After Sheriff Sloane had left, she’d gotten down and dirty with a rag and a can of furniture polish. She even took a vacuum to the drapes at the windows.
Rebecca, her Realtor, would be thrilled with the progress.
After locking up, she slid into her aunt’s old truck and trundled down the drive to the main road. The lush forest hugged the asphalt on either side, the leaves still dripping moisture from the rain shower an hour ago.
The brakes on the truck had seen better days, and Kendall mentally added the sale of the vehicle to her list of to-do items. There had to be some local kids who wanted to practice their auto shop skills on an old beater.
She drove the few miles on slick roads and pulled behind a line of cars already parked on the street in front of Melissa’s house—Melissa and Daryl’s house. Daryl had come to Timberline almost two years ago to take a job with Evergreen Software and had fallen for a local girl. Melissa had never left Timberline since she’d had to take care of her mom who’d had Parkinson’s disease. She’d found her prince charming anyway, in the form of a software engineer.
As she ground the gear shift into Park, Kendall winced. Anyone interested in this truck had better be a good mechanic.
She jumped from the truck and wrapped her shawl around her body as she headed up the pathway to the house. Warm lights shimmered from the windows and smoke puffed from the chimney.
She knocked on the door, tucking the bottle of cabernet under one arm.
A man—presumably Daryl—opened the front door and broke into an immediate smile. “You must be Kendall.”
“I am.” She stuck out her hand. “And you must be Daryl.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her over the threshold. “Honey, Kendall’s here.”
Kendall’s gaze shifted over his shoulder to the living room, and her fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as several pairs of eyes focused on her. The few friends Melissa had mentioned looked like a full-scale party, and it seemed like she’d just interrupted their conversation.
She rolled her shoulders. She liked parties. She liked conversations—some topics better than others.
“I brought sustenance.” Kendall held up the bottle of wine.
“We can always use more alcohol.” Melissa broke away from a couple and approached Kendall, holding out her hands. “So good to see you, Kendall.”
Kendall hooked her friend in a one-armed hug. “Same. You look great.”
“And you look—” Melissa held her at arm’s length “—tan. I’m so jealous. I’m as pale as ever.”
“What do you expect when the sun shines maybe three times a year, if you’re lucky?” Kendall jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the damp outdoors.
“She’s dissing our lovely, wet, depressing weather.” Melissa held up the bottle to read the label. “But she’s not snobby enough to dis our local wineries.”
As Melissa peeled away from her side to put the wine in the kitchen, Kendall stepped down into the living room. She waved and nodded to a few familiar faces, shrugging off her shawl.
Melissa materialized behind her, a glass of wine in one hand. “This isn’t yours. Is merlot okay?”
“Fine. The other stuff’s for you and Daryl to drink later.”
“Thanks. Let me take your shawl. We keep it warm in here.” Daryl joined them, and Melissa patted her husband’s arm. “Daryl’s a transplant from LA. After two years, he’s still not acclimated.”
“Has my scatterbrained wife introduced you to everyone?” He went around the room, calling out names Kendall forgot two seconds later, until he named everyone there.
Melissa started carrying dishes to the dining room table, and Kendall broke away from the small talk to help her. The other guests’ conversation had seemed guarded, anyway, and she’d bet anything they’d been talking about the kidnappings before her arrival.
Joining Melissa in the kitchen, she tapped a Crock-Pot of bubbling chili sitting on the kitchen counter. “Do you want this on the table, or are you going to leave it here?”
“You can put that on the table next to the grated cheese and diced onions.”
Kendall hoisted the pot by its handles and inhaled the spicy aroma. “Mmm, this has to be your mom’s recipe.”
“It is.” She patted the dining room table. “Right here.”
Kendall placed the Crock-Pot on the tablecloth and removed the lid. “What else?”
“Can you help me scoop some tapenade and salsa and some other goodies into little serving dishes?”
“Absolutely, as long as I can sample while I’m scooping.” Kendall pulled a small bowl toward herself and plopped a spoonful of guacamole in the center. “I like Daryl.”
“Yeah, he’s an uptight programmer—just perfect for his flaky, artsy-fartsy wife.”
“Opposites do attract sometimes. He’s a good balance for you.”
“And what about you?” Melissa pinched