Unseen

UNSEEN NELL BRACH, BOOK TWO S. E. GREEN CONTENTS PrologueChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51The Nell Brach SeriesOther Books by S. E. GreenAbout the Author Copyright © S. E. Green, 2023 The right of S. E. Green to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted per the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1976. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. PROLOGUE Cathy lifted the latch. The gate swung inward. Up ahead a squirrel darted across the trail, quickly vanishing into the pine trees that lined both sides. Rebecca, Cathy’s best friend, pulled the gate closed and relatched it. “What do you want to do for your big four-o?” she asked. “Hot dogs,” Cathy said. “With chili, cheese, and onion. Lots of onion.” Her friend gagged. They laughed. “Well, how about we start with this.” Rebecca slid her hand into the deep pocket of her baggy jeans. She brought out a stained and scuffed ring box. Cathy gasped. “Now don’t get too excited,” Rebecca said. “I made it.” Cathy grabbed the box. She cradled it to her chest, rocking it. “I’ll love it. I promise!” “Maybe you should look at it first before you make any promises.” Rebecca smiled. Cathy opened the box. Inside rested a ring with three silver wires twined together, holding a blue moonstone in place. “That’s my birthstone!” “I know, you goofball.” Playfully, Rebecca punched her. “Try it on.” Eagerly, Cathy did, sliding it onto her middle finger. It was perfect. She hugged her friend’s shoulders, hard. “Thank you. This means the world to me.” “You are very welcome.” Rebecca squeezed her back. They each wore large well-worn backpacks—a burgundy one for Rebecca and a blue one for Cathy—filled with everything they owned. Cathy always joked that Rebecca’s pack weighed more than she did. The friends fell in step along the trail that cut through Memorial Gardens. With a Zippo lighter, Cathy lit a cigarette. Rebecca crinkled her nose. “Those’ll kill you,” she said, as she always did. Cathy took a drag anyway. They’d been in Iris, Tennessee, a few months now. Miles of open trails! Forestry! Grand Smoky Mountain views! That’s what the city’s website said. All Cathy knew was that she liked it a whole lot better than many of the other towns where they’d taken up living. Between Francis House, the local shelter, and Tent City, the encampment out in the country, they made provisions for the homeless here. Plus, her daughter was here. She was the last person Cathy expected to see. It had been ten years. Her daughter had grown into a young woman, but she instantly knew her face. Cathy had been waiting in line at Francis House for a hot meal and hopefully a cot when she walked right out the door, past Cathy, and on down the sidewalk where she climbed into a van and drove away. Cathy had stood frozen, unable to believe it. “You look like you saw a ghost,” Rebecca had said. “I-I just saw my daughter!” Cathy had been so excited, she shouted the words. Everyone in line had turned. That had been four weeks ago now and Cathy hadn’t seen her daughter since. She’d asked around, but no one knew who the young woman was. Cathy began to wonder if it had all been in her mind. Off to the right, a water tower glinted in the setting September sun. Beyond that, a paper factory whispered with activity. Side by side the friends continued walking, rounding the curve in the trail. Cathy had been living a couple of years on the streets when she met Rebecca, who was older by ten years and took on a protective big sister role. They instantly became friends and had been that way since. Knowing someone had your back was the key to surviving this life of theirs. The bordering trees came alive with chirping birds and the sound of small animals scurrying through pine needles. Up ahead two squirrels chased each other. Overhead, one lone bird coasted on the warm breeze. Cathy paused to pick up a stick. She swished it through the air like a sword. Her mood dipped. What would her daughter’s reaction be upon seeing Cathy again? Would she remember her? Of course, she would, Cathy silently admonished herself. But would she recognize Cathy was an entirely different question. Ten years of living on the streets had not been kind to her. She looked nothing like the woman she used to be. Maybe Cathy should stop asking around about her and leave things be. They both had moved on. It wasn’t like she had thought of her daughter every day or even every week. She thought of her now and then, though, wondering where she was, what she was doing, and what she looked like now. “You’re suddenly very quiet. Anything wrong?” Rebecca asked. “Just thinking about my daughter,” Cathy said. “No luck finding her?” “Nope. She wore khaki pants, a navy top, a white ball cap, and climbed into a van. That’s all I’ve got.” “There are a lot of vans that come and go from Francis House.” “I know,” Cathy sighed. Just then a siren went off in the distance at the paper mill. A large plume of