Beyond the Western Sun Read online

  Chapter 3

  Later that day, Julia made sure her husband fulfilled his promise to spend time with Cole. The boy had been looking forward to the park all day, making plans about swinging as high as possible and going up and down the slide until he got dizzy. He may have been too serious for his age, but the child in him loved a good playground.

  “Mom and I are going for a walk,” she told Ian, who was cleaning up the lunch mess, distracted by thoughts of landscaping. “Dad’s taking a nap, so now’s a perfect time to take Cole to the park.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take him.”

  “We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Julia grabbed her coat and camera. She hesitated, contemplating kissing her husband before heading for her walk, but he had already turned away. “Oh, and Ian, try to act like you’re having fun with him.”

  Having had the last word, she joined her mother at the entrance of the site and together the two women headed down the trail, passing a few fellow campers out enjoying the day.

  “Ooh, look!” Julia pointed to a doe and her fawn grazing in a patch of grass just a few yards away. “How cute.” She snapped a couple pictures before the animals noticed her and bounded away into the trees. “I was hoping to see some deer. The zoo back home is putting together an article on deer populations in the wild for their monthly newsletter and asked me to supply the photos. I have a bunch of old stuff but a doe and her fawn is perfect.”

  Olivia offered a smile, carefully watching her daughter. She knew something was wrong. The sadness in Julia’s eyes, her eagerness to get away from the campsite, the fact that she’d barely even looked at her husband, contrasted the cheeriness in her voice and were clear signs that she wasn’t happy. Going on about deer and a newsletter didn’t hide a thing.

  “So…would you like to tell me what’s going on between you and Ian?”

  Julia stopped short, staring at her mother and fiddling with her camera nervously. She pretended to be inspecting the light settings. “What…What do you mean?”

  Olivia cocked her head to the side and smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “Julia, I may be old, but I’m not blind. You two used to be all over each other. Now, when you say his name, you say it like it tastes bad.”

  Stopping by a narrow creek, Julia knelt and ran her fingers over the smooth rocks. The cold water was refreshing. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t,” she repeated when Olivia huffed. “Things are different lately. We don’t talk, we don’t spend any time together. All he does is work. He’s never home.”

  “And you? What do you do while he’s working?”

  At her mother’s inquisitive stare, Julia crossed her arms and smirked right back. “I’m not seeing anyone on the side, if that’s what you’re insinuating. Geez, Mom.”

  “Just making sure. But is he?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. He hasn’t been acting suspicious or anything, but I certainly don’t trust his hussy of a secretary. That’s always the case, isn’t it? Big successful businessman getting off with the hot young secretary.”

  Olivia frowned and thought to herself that if Ian was sleeping with his secretary, then he’d better hope that she and David were far, far away when the truth revealed itself. “Do you really think he’s having an affair?”

  Julia paused, picking up a stone and tossing it from hand to hand. “Not really. It’s just a thought in the back of my head. Paranoia, I guess.”

  “And are you willing to work it out?”

  “If he’s willing, then I’m willing.” Frustrated, Julia sat on a rock that was bathed in golden sunlight and toyed with her camera. “But I don’t know where to start.”

  Not far away, Ian kept his promise and walked with his son to the park. Cole happily skipped along, racing for the swings. The park was intertwined with tall yet thin trees that climbed their way towards the sky, canopying the playground and allowing the sun to filter through in dotted rays of light. To the west, hidden behind a tangled wall of vegetation, the river roiled with its flowing rapids and icy waves, the sounds gurgling through the leaves.

  Ian sat on a bench and watched Cole switch from the swings to the slide. He chuckled when Cole slid down and landed in a patch of dirt, only to turn around and climb back up the slippery metal to do it all over again. From the top of the wooden structure, Cole waved at his father, who returned the gesture and leaned back. It was nice to watch his son, something he hadn’t taken the time to do in awhile. He’d forgotten that Cole could be fun, just be a kid, not always so serious all the time.

  As Cole continued to slide down into the dirt, Ian’s mind started to drift. He thought of work, carefully planning out different designs in his head, picturing what the hotel grounds would look like after he was finished. If he was lucky, and if the installation went smoothly, his company might be contracted to continue on as the groundskeepers. He had a few part-time men who were looking for full-time work, but there wasn’t enough at the moment and the hotel would be the perfect job for them.

  His attention switched then to Rebecca Dale. Recently, his thoughts turned to her more and more, what she was doing at that moment, what she would wear to work the next day. Her increasingly revealing outfits were exciting, and he looked forward to her latest purchase. Those low-cut blouses, above-the-knee skirts, no, he certainly didn’t mind seeing them around the office. Though nothing physical had happened, Ian had to admit that it was possible. Rebecca had given the hints, provided the groundwork, had all but offered a time and a place, and Ian was getting less and less sure what was holding him back. Julia certainly never gave him that kind of attention anymore. What was the point of marriage if husband and wife were complete strangers? No more hugs, stolen glances, smiles over silly things that happened at the dinner table. Just irritated sighs and brush-offs.

  On the playground, Cole swung from the monkey bars, carefully gripping each bar as he made his way across. When he got to the other side, he reached for the rope swing, then froze when he saw a shadowy movement in the trees. A chill worked its way up his spine as he squinted, wondering if the sun was playing tricks on him, or if there were some deer playing around the trees like his mom had said they like to do. Curious again, he hopped off the platform and trotted over to the edge of the woods, glancing over his shoulder at his father, who was looking off in the other direction. Briefly, he considered asking if he could go investigate, but knew that his dad would yell at him to get back on the playground. Cole could hear the river and was excited, since last time he saw the ghost on the other side of the shore, and so he abandoned any sense of responsibility and snuck away.

  After a couple minutes of pushing past branches and getting his foot snagged in a thorny vine, Cole reached the river. He was a little ways downriver from his last location, and the rapids were much faster, the river wider and filled with more rocks.

  And there, on the other side, was the strange gray shadow that looked like a little boy.

  Intrigued by the sight, Cole stepped closer to the river. He searched for a way across, his mother’s warning voice echoing in his ears. She wouldn’t want him anywhere near the river. But, he argued against himself, she didn’t even believe that he was a ghost, and if he could prove it to her, then that would make this camping trip the best one ever.

  And so, taking a deep breath, Cole stepped out onto the slippery rocks, eyes trained on the shadow, determined to never let it out of his sight.

  Back at the park, Ian mused over the idea of divorce, marriage counseling, marriage in general. He had married Julia at twenty-nine, she at age twenty-four. They were partners in more ways than one, personal and professional, perfectly compatible, in the beginning. They struggled for years, both working hard under Ian’s growing landscaping company, and around the same time Cole was born Ian landed his first major installation at a new neighborhood development. From then on life only got better, the days more promising, and though he’d never planned on being a father, nothing could compare to feeling he got when—
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  Cole.

  Ian snapped back to attention, scanning the playground. It was empty, one lone swing swaying in the breeze. He leapt to his feet and ran to the slide, searching under and behind any and every block of wood.

  “Cole?” he shouted, worry and dread creeping up into his throat. “Cole! Answer me! Answer me, damn it!”

  When only the torrents of the white-water river answered back, Ian turned and pushed his way through the thicket, stumbling onto the riverbank. He frantically searched the water, the other shoreline, seeing nothing but endless trees. Sickness churned in his gut as he ran back to the park, racing around the trees, yelling his son’s name.

  But it was useless. Cole was gone.

  Chapter 4

  Sheriff Ray Forbe, an enthusiastic officer in his early fifties with thick gray hair, playful brown eyes, and the growing hint of a belly, adjusted his hat and approached the Daivya campsite. It was a gloomy site, the mother of the missing son wrapped in blankets in the Bards’ trailer, the father sitting at the picnic table with his head in his hands, and the grandparents doing their best to hold it together for Julia and Ian while struggling not to join them in misery.

  Cole had been missing for seven hours. It only took fifteen minutes after discovering his son’s disappearance for Ian to report the incident to Big Creek security, and three hours after an unsuccessful search by six officers and the Daivya family, the rest of the police was called in. Eleven officers, joined by seven concerned campers, combed the woods, explored three miles of the river, and found not even the slightest trace of the boy. Now, as dusk fell and the sky darkened, there seemed to be little hope of finding him tonight.

  An officer for more than thirty years in a county that ran alongside the Smoky Mountains, Forbe had unfortunately seen many children disappear. Some went missing for more gruesome reasons, but many simply wandered away and ended up being found lost in the woods a day or two later, hungry and scared. In all his years, Forbe had lost three children, and he wasn’t looking for that number to bump up to four. If it took him six days, six months, six years, he would keep searching.

  But it didn’t look good for the child. Nights were cold and the weekly forecast called for rain. Combined with the raging river, thick forest, and a little boy’s usually poor sense of direction, hope was scarce.

  Forbe wasn’t willing to admit this disparaging outlook to the boy’s family, though, and so when he came to a stop by Ian’s side, the officer sucked in a deep breath and offered the best words he could muster.

  “We’ll keep looking through the night,” he told Ian, who lifted his head and rubbed his tired, slightly puffy eyes. Forbe hadn’t personally seen the man cry, but it was evident by the redness that he’d let a few tears escape in privacy. “Second shift just started and we’ve got some more men coming in a few hours. Some of the locals have agreed to help as well. We haven’t found anything yet, which means that Cole could be fine, just a little lost. We’re not giving up.”

  Ian cleared his throat. He was exhausted, angry, desperate, ashamed, and didn’t believe a word the sheriff said. “Tell me, Forbe, what is your honest opinion of finding my son?” When Forbe didn’t answer, he rose and leaned against the table, crossing his arms with his eyes on the ground. “By all means, say whatever you have to say to my wife and in-laws, keep them thinking positive, but I need to know the truth. What kind of outcome are we really looking at here?”

  After a moment of hesitation, Forbe finally admitted, “I don’t know. Kids get lost up here all the time, usually just from wandering off in the middle of the night. And we don’t stop looking until the kid is in their parents’ arms.”

  “And when you don’t find them?”

  “We haven’t lost a child in over eight years, Mr. Daivya. I know things don’t look good right now, but I promise you that I will not stop looking.”

  And he didn’t. Forbe kept his promise, continuing the search for two more days, through the rain, through the cold, through the desolation. And not a trace of the boy was found. In those days, the rest of Julia’s family had arrived, and the reunion was put on hold as everyone aided in the search. Julia attempted to look for her son on the first day, but hopelessness engulfed her, racking her body in sobs and rendering her useless. Whatever strength she’d once had abandoned all her senses, and she was as lost as her son.

  Ian returned after three hours in the woods to find his wife slumped over the picnic table. She hadn’t changed clothes since yesterday morning, and had barely eaten. Her hair was unbrushed, sticking out wildly in some places, and her eyes were swollen from crying, staring vacantly at emptiness.

  He lowered himself next to her and picked up a plastic fork merely for the sake of having something to do with his fingers. “Nothing yet,” he said quietly, running a hand over the scruff that covered his jaw. Julia didn’t answer, and they sat in silence for awhile. Officers and volunteers came and went from the campsite. Lisa, Julia’s typically flighty sister, had taken it upon herself to provide food and drinks for everyone willing to help, while Cole’s grandparents alternated between organizing search parties with Forbe and checking on their distraught daughter. Occasionally one of the officers would approach Ian and ask for his account again of exactly what happened when he discovered that Cole was missing. He’d been over it dozens of times and the story hadn’t changed, but the police were still hoping to catch something, anything, they’d missed before.

  “You should have been watching him,” Julia muttered suddenly, wrapping her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

  “I was watching him.”

  “Then how the hell did he manage to disappear? How do kids who are being watched suddenly vanish?”

  Ian didn’t have an answer to his wife’s accusations, so instead he placed a hand on her shoulder. Julia withdrew instantly, a look of disgust crossing her tired and ragged face. “Don’t touch me,” she demanded, yanking her arm away from her husband. “Cole would be here if it weren’t for you.”

  “Julia—”

  “No, don’t.” Julia held up a hand, an unknown strength overcoming her senses. She rose to her feet and glared down at Ian. “If you were watching him, he would be here! With me! Safe! But when do you ever watch him? When do you ever think of anyone but yourself? You don’t care!”

  Tears burst from her eyes and she turned away, running back to the trailer. A part of Ian wanted to follow, to comfort the woman he still loved, but another part resented her animosity. It was an accident, an honest mistake. He didn’t mean for it to happen, and if the kid hadn’t of wandered away like he knew he wasn’t supposed to do then they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  They would find Cole. He was sure of it. They would find his son. He would find him, however possible. He would do whatever he had to do.

  Frustrated, Ian forced his hair behind his ears and rose, starting to pace as he headed away from the campsite to escape the hate and blame. His eyes were trained on the dirt until an officer’s surprised call to another encouraged him to look up.

  At the edge of the campsite, a woman was approaching. Whoever she was, the officers seemed to know her, and obviously had mixed feeling about her arrival. One had taken a step forward, another a step back. Curious, Ian made his way over, stopping next to Deputies Nathan Neil and Ben Duff just as the stranger made her way to the edge of the campsite.

  Ian observed the woman as she drew near. She was young, early twenties perhaps, and of Native American descent. Her long hair was sleek and black, with thick braids trailing along the sides decorated with small, handcrafted white beads. Her face was strongly sculpted, a tough jaw line, sharp nose above a small mouth, and high cheekbones accenting black eyes that completely terrified Ian. They were eyes that had seen death, torture, pain, but also life, hope, and magic. How someone so young could bear eyes so old baffled him.

  He desperately wanted to know more.

  The woman wore loose tan pants torn at the knees, a figure-fitting black shirt fraye
d at the collar with the hemline ripped off, and pieces of what looked to Ian like animal skin covering her forearms for warmth, the inner sides coated with fur. Around her left wrist was a wide band of leather, tied with sinew just above the back of her hand. Her arms, shoulders, and what could be seen of her stomach were firmly toned. Around her upper right arm was a piece of cloth tied tightly, and judging by the red scabs at the edges of the material, he guessed it was covering a recent wound. A few scratches marked her face as well, two on her left cheek and another just above her eyebrow, making her look hardened and indifferent. She was barefoot, but didn’t seem bothered. A belt hitched around her waist held a small jug of water, a pouch, and a hunting knife.

  Ian thought she was one of the most striking women he had ever laid eyes upon, but for some reason he couldn’t identify, she scared the hell out of him.

  As if drawn in by her dark aura, Ian joined the officers in greeting the mysterious stranger.

  “Whisper,” Deputy Neil greeted cautiously, nodding at the woman. The quiver in his voice told Ian he wasn’t the only one slightly intimidated. “We were…um, we were wondering if you would show up.”

  “We tried to find you, but no one seemed to know where you were,” Duff put in, sounding more confident and eager than his partner.

  “This is Ian Daivya. His son Cole is the boy that went missing a few days ago.” Neil gestured to Ian, who held out a hand in greeting.

  The woman named Whisper didn’t move, nor did she even look at the man. Instead, she thought for a moment, then turned to the woods. “I will search for the child,” she said, her voice thick with an old, native accent. “We must go.” She headed for the trees, leaving the three men behind. Duff and Neil shoved Ian in her direction.

  “She meant you,” Neil told him. “Go with her.”

  “With her? I don’t even know who she is,” Ian protested, not believing the woman was anything more than another volunteer, let alone a guide of sorts. “And why the hell is she named Whisper?”

  “If you want to find your son, your best bet is with her. She’s found a lot of missing kids over the years. That woman is…strange, to say the least, but she’s got some kind of…”