“Thanks.” Rebecca was outside in a shot, crossing the parking area and ducking under an archway to the lot where cut trees were displayed beneath strands of lights. Gravel paths led through the clusters of spruces, pines, and firs, while Christmas music played softly from speakers attached to the exterior of the café. Rebecca barely noticed. She cut past a few customers and scanned the area just to spy James, dog at his heels, striding through a back gate to the surrounding forest of uncut trees.

“Great,” she muttered, hurrying after him.

While this part of his property was well-lit, music lilting, the smells from the café tantalizing, the adjoining hilly acres were shrouded in darkness, thin moonlight casting foreboding shadows over the snowy ground. Rebecca took off after James, ignoring the nagging thought that he might not be all that happy to see her. She had ditched him the other night.

Well, too bad. It was time they worked things out.

To find Megan.

And, truthfully, to put her feelings for James Cahill to rest forever.

“Closure,” she said aloud—such a popular term these days—and probably impossible with James.

Well, so be it.

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 42

As he left the lighted lot, James’s mobile phone began to buzz. He answered without looking at the caller and regretted it the minute he heard Sophia’s breathless voice.

“We need to talk,” she said without preamble.

“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, irritated as he searched the ground while walking through the rows of trees that had been planted seven or eight years prior. He was on a mission, trying to find Bruce Porter’s phone, which must have dropped out of his pocket as he helped a customer cut and carry one of the fresh Douglas firs.

But Sophia was having none of it. “I need to see you.”

“We’ve been through this.” He wasn’t going to be budged. And he needed to get off this call so he could punch in Porter’s number to find the guy’s cell.

“I’m serious.” And she sounded it. “It won’t take long.”

“Then tell me now.” He stepped through a row of spruces.

“You need to hear this, from me. Face-to-face. It’s not the kind of thing you discuss on the phone.”

Jesus-God, did Sophia know something about what happened to Megan? What else could be so damned important?

“Just tell me.”

“I’m serious: I need to see you.”

Shit! His hand clenched over the phone. “Fine.” He didn’t have time for this.

From somewhere in the distance, he heard someone calling his name. “James?” A woman.

“I’ll come over,” Sophia was saying a little more brightly.

“No!” He didn’t want to be completely alone with her, not at his house. Not a good idea. “Meet me at the inn. In the bar.”

“No, no. I work there. It could . . . it could get awkward.”

“Why?”

“James?”