gone. He already had plenty of reasons of his own to stay away from her. The fact that he was more disappointed than relieved that she was no longer around added about a dozen more.
Two days had passed since the dog show and Esmée congratulated herself that she hadn’t contacted Brayden during that time. The temptation had been almost overwhelming, but she had resisted for a number of reasons.
The first was that he had made it clear he didn’t wish to speak to her. The man had to be dealing with a world of pain right now. She had caught some of that in his expression before he lowered his shades. She had also heard it in his voice. The last thing he needed was for her to disrespect his wishes and trample roughly over his feelings. Esmée hadn’t given up on her desire to talk to him, but she worked within a strong code of ethics. She wasn’t going to try to coerce him into it.
Her hope was that, once he saw other people opening up to her and became aware that she was treating his sister’s story with sensitivity, he would change his mind. If he didn’t? She would take her research in another direction. She’d done it before. A documentary of this kind took a long time to make and there would be many twists and turns along the way. Right now, it felt like Brayden was her starting point, but that could change.
An approach to the subscription TV company that had bought the documentary about the murders in the Welsh farming community of Glanrafon had proved promising. They were keen to work with her again and loved the Red Ridge idea. Viewing figures for What Remains had been phenomenal and it had won several prestigious awards. Esmée’s terms were simple—a good price and total artistic control over her work.
Her second reason for keeping her distance from Brayden was more personal. Rhys was talking. She wanted to hold her breath every time he spoke in case he stopped again. The remarkable thing was that he was good at it. All that listening to Esmée must have paid off. He was speaking in simple sentences, his vocabulary was good and he could pronounce most words well.
Esmée had called both his speech therapist and psychologist to discuss this new development. The speech therapist had been encouraging.
“You know what to do as well as I do. Give him a context to talk. Keep modeling what to do. Ask him questions. This is the turning point—it will all move forward from here.”
The psychologist, while also optimistic, had added a word of caution. “You say this started with a dog? Make sure Rhys doesn’t develop a reliance on the animal.”
“He’s been talking just fine without Echo,” Esmée had explained as she watched Rhys eating the cookie he had asked for. Not signed. Not gestured. Asked.
“Just something to be aware of.”
While Esmée had no doubt that Echo had been the trigger for Rhys to start talking, she didn’t believe that his continuing recovery depended on the dog. Even so, he had several times asked the same question.
“See Ko?”
“Echo is busy. He has to work.” Although Rhys had accepted the explanation, his disappointment had been obvious. Once or twice, he had asked to see the picture of Echo on Esmée’s cell phone. And, after watching Brayden and Echo demonstrate their search-and-rescue skills at the dog show, Rhys had developed a love of playing hide-and-seek. It was his new favorite activity, and even when Esmée couldn’t join in, he played hiding games with his toy animals.
His interest in Echo turned Esmée’s thoughts toward the future. Maybe it was time to put down roots. Her own nomadic childhood had been happy, but she wasn’t sure she wanted the same thing for Rhys. And if they settled in one place, they could get a dog of their own. She was becoming drawn to the concept of a pet as a form of therapy.
How about a tall, handsome cop? Was there a therapeutic role for one of those in her life? She shook aside the thought as soon as it appeared. There was no room for any man in her life. Period. She had messed up in a big way with Gwyn. The only thing she didn’t regret about that part of her life was that it had brought her Rhys. Her son was everything to her. Even though her relationship with his father had gone horribly wrong, she could never wish it hadn’t happened.
The experience had changed her in so many ways. She supposed the blithe, pleasure-loving person was still inside her somewhere, but that part of her remained well-hidden these days. Rhys was her priority. Even if she had any inclination to start dating again, there was no way she would risk unsettling him by introducing a new father figure into his life. It was just as well she had no interest in men.
Or she hadn’t...until Brayden Colton had appeared on her horizon. And that was yet another reason not to contact him. Esmée couldn’t be sure, if she did get in touch with him, that she would be doing it for the right reasons. Yes, she wanted to talk to him about Demi, but she was honest enough to admit to a strong desire to see him again. It was an unexpected and dangerous attraction, one she wasn’t willing to pursue. It was probably a good idea to steer clear of Brayden and take her research in a different direction for the time being.
With that in mind, she had pursued a few other leads. One of those had been an interview with the owner of Bea’s Bridal. The store, located among the fancy boutiques and restaurants of Rattlesnake Avenue, had been temporarily closed. It was another sign of the Groom Killer’s impact on the town. No one wanted to be seen ordering wedding gowns in Red Ridge right now. Grooms-to-be were not safe.
Just a few miles away from Rattlesnake Avenue, there was another, very different side to Red Ridge. Located in a run-down part of town, the Pour House was the notorious bar owned by Rusty Colton, Brayden and Demi’s father. Hester had watched Rhys the previous night while Esmée made a visit to that interesting establishment. It had helped clarify a few aspects of her potential story.
Rusty was a large, loud personality who had four children, all with different mothers. Although the half siblings had been raised near each other in the poorer part of town, their mothers didn’t get on and the kids hadn’t been close as they grew up. Observing Rusty as she sipped her soda in a quiet corner of the bar, Esmée couldn’t picture him as a loving father.
She would need to speak to him, of course, but she hadn’t approached Rusty for his views about his daughter’s guilt and her disappearance. Part of her preparation was about getting a feel for the key characters in her story. Even so, word had already gotten out about who she was, and a few people had come forward to give her their opinions. If she went with what she had so far, she would be on her way out of town already, the story of Demi’s guilt all neatly packaged up.
What had surprised her was that most of the people who were keen to give her their theories about Demi’s involvement were members of the Gage family. It hadn’t taken much research to uncover that there was a century-old feud between the Coltons and Gages. In the Groom Killer case, the first victim had been a Gage, the suspect a Colton. These new murders were a fresh wound on top of an older hurt.
Esmée wasn’t an investigator. When Demi was found, it would be up to the legal system to determine her guilt or innocence. Esmée’s story would be about the people, the town and the impact of the murders. It was about Jack and Sarah and the other couples whose hopes and dreams had been torn apart by a killer who didn’t want to see them make it down the aisle. It was about the Gage-and-Colton feud and why this place couldn’t move on from that. It was about the welcome she had received from the people of this pretty mountain town and the contrasting raw pain she could feel beneath.
She and Rhys took their cereal out onto the porch of their tiny bungalow. The Red Ridge Bed-and-Breakfast was situated right on the edge of town, close to the winding trail that led to the lower slopes of the Coyote Mountains. Comprising eight wooden guest cabins arranged around a grass lawn, the place had been the most comfortable of those Esmée had viewed. The owner, Wendy Gage, was a distant cousin of Bo, the first victim of the Groom Killer, and a firm believer in Demi Colton’s guilt.
Although breakfast was provided each morning in the main house,