🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The backpack's straps pressed heavily on his shoulders while his steps became faster until he finally ran. A soft curse escaped his lips as he jogged across the huge bus station.
Six weeks had passed since he had spoken to Dylan. Six damn bloody weeks in which he'd been anything but lazy. The research took hours, during which he scoured the net, wrote emails, and spoke to his informants. But again and again, he and his informants had only found small clues, which had all come to nothing.
How could a woman with a child disappear off the face of the earth like that? Without his network even being able to find out anything about her?
Neither the search for a Kaylen Conner nor a Liam Conner had resulted in anything. The search for an O'Brien family also proved to be difficult, as it was not precisely the rarest name in Ireland. At first, it seemed very logical to him that she had returned home. And if she really was in Ireland, he had no choice but to check it out personally, as he had no connections there. But just as he was about to give up, someone who owed him a favor came forward.
The official handed him a half-blackened document. It was the transfer of ownership of a small guesthouse in Canada that had belonged to an old woman and had now become the property of a Riona O'Brien. It was a transfer of ownership just when he was looking for that very surname. And then a woman whose age could fit. Coincidence? Surely not!
Although he wasn't sure at first, he made further enquiries and discovered that the small guesthouse was in a secluded village called Silvershore in Canada. As if fate favored him, he saw an advertisement in which Pineview Cottage sought a craftsman to do urgent repairs. Perfect for him to follow up the lead. So he canceled the flight to Ireland and headed to Silvershore in the bottom corner of Canada instead.
The ticket seller had already stared at him as if he was out of his mind, and he slowly realized why. The route from Echo Bay to East Pine Creek wasn't the most popular - and that was putting it mildly. The station was empty, and the bus in front of him seemed to have its best days far behind it. The engine chugged along and was more reminiscent of a tractor than a means of public transport. The smoke coming out of the exhaust was almost coal-black.
