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he barely knew Darcy, her presence comforted him. Her immediate response to his news earlier had been to help. There was more to her than too many clothes and shoes. She might come from money, but she didn’t act like a spoiled socialite.

      He waited for her to join him and then he made his way toward the group of people on the front lawn of Corey’s home. Mrs. Scott stood near Ned, talking to him as more neighbors joined the throng. The furious expression on Ned’s face alerted Nick that the man probably hadn’t been the one who’d called the sheriff’s office.

      Mrs. Scott saw him and came toward Nick. “We’ve searched the neighborhood and there wasn’t any sign of Corey. We’re reorganizing to cover the areas away from here. The sheriff is arriving soon and some more deputies. They’re bringing in a couple of tracking dogs too. Five to six inches of snow are predicted tonight. We need to find him before he freezes.”

      “What happened?” Nick stared at Ned.

      “After you called me earlier to check on Ned and Corey, which I did, I left Corey’s house because Ned woke up and assured me he was fine. He practically kicked me out. I decided then to make some cookies to share with Corey and Ned as an excuse to check on them after an hour and a half. When I went over to the house, Ned finally opened the door. He looked like he had just woken up, so he’d probably continued to drink after I left. At least that’s how he smelled. He invited me in while he called Corey. The boy never came. I helped Ned search his house to make sure Corey wasn’t hiding. That man was getting madder by the second. I discovered just a few minutes ago Ned went to the store not long after I left the first time.”

      Nick swung his attention to Mrs. Scott. “The liquor store?”

      Mrs. Scott nodded.

      “Are you the one who called the sheriff?”

      “Yes. Ned didn’t want to. He was sure Corey would show up. By that time it was getting dark. I went home and called.”

      Nick nodded toward Darcy. “Mrs. Scott, this is Darcy—a friend who heard about Corey and wanted to help.”

      Darcy shook Mrs. Scott’s hand. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. Where do you think Corey would have gone?”

      “He isn’t at any of his friends’ houses. The deputy checked those first, so I don’t know.” Mrs. Scott patted Nick’s arm. “If anyone can find him, it’s you. I don’t know any of his favorite haunts and neither does his father.” Anger infused the last sentence. “I declare I haven’t seen a man quite like that one.”

      A conversation Nick had had with Corey last month came to the foreground of his thoughts. The child had been so mad at his father for forgetting to pick him up at his friend’s house. He’d ended up walking home. Since it was getting dark, he had used the woods as a shortcut and stumbled upon a thicket—a great hiding place, according to Corey. “There are a few places that Corey and I have talked about. A couple we’ve been to. But one he said was his secret fort. He told me the general location in the woods. I think we should look there first.” Nick didn’t want to stand around while the deputies organized the search.

      Mrs. Scott’s mouth pinched into a frown. “But it’s so dark at this time of night. How are you going to look there?”

      “I have some flashlights, one in my glove compartment and another in my toolbox. That’s all I need.” He turned to Darcy and added, “But you might want to stay here—”

      “I’m game. It’s getting colder.” Darcy shivered. “I won’t be surprised if there’s snow in the next hour or two. We need to find Corey.”

      “Mrs. Scott, please tell the deputy where we’re going and that we could use more people. It’s the wooded area behind the elementary school.” It would be better if Nick didn’t go near Ned at the moment. He threw one last look at the man, who was still frowning as if this whole affair was an inconvenience. Although Nick’s and Corey’s situations were different, Nick knew the emotional whirlwind the boy was going through and how alone the child must feel.

      “Will do, but, dearie,” Mrs. Scott said, peering at Darcy’s high heels, “you can’t go in those shoes.”

      Darcy grinned. “I’m going to change.”

      As Nick and Darcy headed for his pickup, she said, “I think you and Mrs. Scott are right—Corey’s dad has been drinking a lot. His eyes are bloodshot, his hands are shaking and his skin is pasty. In my job I’ve encountered enough alcoholics to know when I see one.”

      Nick opened the passenger door. “It’s been getting worse. That may be what made Corey leave.” When his own dad drank, all Nick had wanted to do as a child was hide. He shut the truck door, made his way to the driver’s side and switched on the engine, throwing a glance at Darcy. “What’s your job?”

      For a long moment Darcy didn’t answer. Nick turned the truck around and headed the way they had come. Still no reply.

      He was about to tell her to forget the question when she murmured, “I’m a lawyer—for Legal Aid.”

      Surprise flitted through him. He wasn’t sure what he’d pictured her doing. When he thought about it, the fact that she was a lawyer wasn’t what astonished him—it was that she worked for Legal Aid. The clothes she wore and the car she drove didn’t fit his image of the belongings of someone working for the poor. And yet, she’d quickly volunteered to search for a child she didn’t know. He was discovering there was a lot under the cool, composed facade she presented to the world.

      “You can close your mouth now. I’ve been working at the office in Mobile since I got out of law school a few years ago. My father comes from old money. Giving back to the community is very important to both my parents. When I was young, no more than five, he had me volunteering right alongside him or my mother. By the time I went to college I knew I was going to fight for people who often can’t fight for themselves.”

      “You need to give Fletcher Phillips a lesson in how to give back. Instead, he pushes his own agenda to make more money.”

      “Are you talking about Ned and Corey?”

      “Yes, that’s one example, but the boys ranch is another.”

      “What boys ranch?”

      “We have a Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch here in Haven, founded in 1947 by Luella Snowden Phillips. She used her own ranch as a place for troubled boys around the state to receive support and care and to learn a better way to deal with their problems.”

      “Any relative to Fletcher Phillips?”

      “Yes, his grandmother. But he wants to close the place down.”

      “Why would he want to shut down something his grandmother started and supported?”

      “Good question. Now you see why he isn’t one of my favorite people. He says it devalues the property around the boys ranch and hurts Haven’s economy. All he sees is a bunch of troublemakers, not young children and teens who have problems. His father, Tucker, was actively involved in the ranch. He isn’t alive, but if he were he would be so disappointed in his son.”

      “I can see why you feel that way about Fletcher, but has anyone invited him to the ranch to see firsthand what’s going on? Maybe even volunteer and get to know the children?”

      Had they? Nick didn’t know. “The townspeople are always welcomed at the boys ranch.”

      “Sometimes the obvious has to be pointed out to some people.”

      Nick chuckled. “That would be Fletcher, but I can’t see even a grand tour of the boys ranch changing that man’s mind. And I certainly can’t see him volunteering there.” He pulled into a parking space at the elementary school. “I met my share of people in the army who had to have it their way or no way. They were rigid and never wanted to compromise.”

      “There are people like that in every facet of life. I try to look at things from

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