Part 2
June did not move toward him.
She moved closer to Eli.
Harlan’s hand stayed out, palm down, the way a man offered comfort when he wanted witnesses to see comfort. His smile did not change, but the skin around his eyes tightened. “That’s enough, June. You know me.”
The dog stepped in front of Caleb’s leg and placed her body between the door and the room beyond it. She was wounded, exhausted, and half starved from the night she had survived. Still, the sound in her throat made Harlan’s companion shift one boot back from the threshold.
Caleb kept the chain in place. “What’s the baby’s name?”
Harlan’s gaze flicked past him. “Matthew.”
From the stove, Eli stirred and made a small unhappy sound.
The second man looked at Harlan too quickly. Harlan corrected himself with the kind of speed that gave the lie a shape. “That’s what Natalie said she wanted to call him. She changed her mind every other week.”
Caleb let the silence sit between them. The note against his chest felt heavier than paper.
“Call the sheriff,” he said.
“I would love to,” Harlan replied, still polite. “But phones are down, roads are buried, and Natalie’s been unstable for months. I’m trying to keep an ugly family situation from becoming a county matter.”
The man behind him had snow on the shoulders of his coat, but not much on his boots. They had not walked far. Somewhere below the ridge, a vehicle was close enough to wait.
“What’s your friend’s name?” Caleb asked.
Harlan’s expression cooled by one degree. “Wes. He’s helping me search.”
Wes gave no last name and no greeting. He looked past Caleb, eyes moving around the cabin as if building an inventory.
Caleb had seen men like Harlan in different clothes. Men who spoke gently in public and made other people apologize for bleeding. Men who turned fear into proof that the frightened person could not be trusted.
“Natalie isn’t here,” Caleb said.
“Then you won’t mind if I look around.”
“I would.”
For a moment, the borrowed concern dropped from Harlan’s face. Underneath was impatience, and under that, something meaner. “You found something last night that doesn’t involve you.”
“I found a baby.”
“I’m not talking about the baby.”
Wes looked down at the porch boards. Harlan noticed, and his jaw tightened as if he had said more than he meant to.
Caleb’s hand stayed on the door. “Leave my property.”
Harlan leaned closer to the gap. “Natalie stole documents from people who were trying to help her. If she gave you a phone, a card, a pouch, anything at all, you’re holding stolen property.”
“Then bring a deputy.”
The two men stared at each other through four inches of open door. June’s lip lifted enough to show teeth. Eli made another sound from inside, and Caleb saw Harlan’s gaze sharpen at the direction of it.
“We’ll be back when you’re done playing hero,” Harlan said.
“Come back with law enforcement.”
Caleb shut the door, slid the bolt, and stood there until their footsteps crossed the porch and moved down the steps. No engine started. Not right away. He waited at the window and watched the men walk toward the service road, where a dark SUV sat tucked under the pines.
They had not followed June’s trail by accident.
They had come directly to him.
When the SUV finally rolled away, Caleb waited ten more minutes before stepping outside with June at his side. He followed the boot tracks around the cabin. One set had gone to the woodshed. The other had stopped beneath the radio pole, where the external antenna cable hung in two cleanly cut pieces.
They had reached the cabin while he was with Natalie. They had disabled his best way to call for help, then knocked with gentle hands.
Back inside, Caleb searched everything. The diaper bag. The infant carrier. Natalie’s flannel coat. The photo sleeve. The sled. He found nothing but bottle caps, a wet mitten, and the hospital blanket that still smelled faintly of antiseptic and snow.
June watched from the rug as if waiting for him to understand.
Caleb turned toward her harness.
Most of the stitching was factory-straight. One narrow section near the padded chest plate had been closed with black thread by a hand in a hurry. He crouched in front of June and held up the small scissors from his kit.
“May I?”
June stayed still.
Inside the lining was a waterproof capsule no longer than his thumb. Caleb opened it and shook out a microSD card and a business card, both sealed in plastic.
Harbor Light Family Advocates
Nora Valdez, Crisis Case Manager
24-hour emergency line
Caleb took an old laptop from the desk drawer. It was slow, outdated, and rarely connected to anything except his printer, but the card reader worked. The drive opened after a long delay.
Folders filled the screen. Some were labeled with dates. Others had women’s first names. One was titled: IF JUNE GETS HIM THERE.
Caleb clicked it.
Natalie appeared on the screen in the back seat of a van. Eli was wrapped against her chest. The light was dim, her hair damp along her face. She looked through the window twice before speaking.
“My name is Natalie Wells,” she said. “If you’re seeing this, June found someone, and I didn’t make it.”
Caleb leaned closer, the cabin suddenly too quiet around him.
“Harlan Price is not family. He works for Rosegate House outside Miles City. They say they help pregnant women with nowhere to go, but they take your ID, your phone, your money, and then they tell you what you’re allowed to sign.”
Natalie swallowed and looked down at Eli. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its steadiness.
“I copied intake sheets, payment records, adoption contacts, driver names, and videos from the office computer. Nora Valdez knows some of it. The rest is here. Harlan doesn’t want my son. He wants this card before anyone sees what they’ve done.”
Outside, an engine murmured beneath the wind. Caleb looked toward the window. The same dark SUV was coming back up the service road. This time, its headlights were off…
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