Second Chance Christmas by Pamela Tracy

Author:Pamela Tracy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Elise arrived at Cooper’s house right after Officer Sam Miller. He remained in the patrol car, his mobile data terminal screen glowing in the darkness. She wondered if this was how it had been when Jasmine Taylor had gone missing: calls in the night, patrol cars in the street, every light in the house on and friends rushing over.

Elise knocked gently on the front door and when no one answered, she pushed it open and went in. Just being here, in Cooper’s house, made her pause. Nostalgia washed over her, and she froze. It hadn’t changed since she’d last been here. It was a male domain. That made sense as Cooper’s dad had been an outdoorsman and Cooper and Garrett with him. Karen had gone with the flow, always ready to have fun—camping, rodeo, quad rides, gold panning—as long as it made her men happy.

Elise had the idea her own mother would have been that way. It sure would have been nice to find out.

The wooden floor was littered with colorful rugs. Display cases had pieces of gold, brightly-colored rocks and precious gems. There were antiques, too, in-between. She and Cooper had found some of the paraphernalia. Her favorite was a carbide mining lamp. It had been just a few steps in a cave they’d stumbled across, setting out as if waiting for them. It was their only easy find.

No, the living room hadn’t changed much, just a few subtle differences. Instead of panning decor, now there were a few guns. One was a really old musket. She wondered if Garrett and his friends had added to the Smith cache while out exploring the Superstitions. There was an old lunch pail that she didn’t remember.

For a moment Elise felt a profound sadness that it had been a text reading Garrett’s gone! that brought her here. It should have been something else.

Funny, Elise had expected noise, but except for Cooper’s voice from down the hallway, the place was quiet. No television blared, no phone was ringing. Sometimes Elise forgot that the Lost Dutchman wasn’t like any other home. They always had guests to trip over, games to play and horses whinnying for attention. Cooper’s house had always been calm unless it was time to go on a dig. Even his horses had been polite compared to hers.

“Hello?” Elise called.

Karen came around the kitchen corner, a tissue in hand and red splotches darkening her cheeks. She didn’t look up and didn’t seem to notice Elise as she immediately turned and walked the other way. Then turned again. She was doing the dance of a worried mother, called pacing. Elise looked down the hall and found Cooper, who was on the phone.

She went to Karen, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder and then drawing her into a firm hug and asking, “No word?”

“None. There’s no note, but he’s run away,” Karen said. “Cooper’s busy calling all his friends. Some say they haven’t really hung out with him in months. No one knows where he is.

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