“I’m not really a therapist. I studied counseling, got into graduate school, and then took a job at a horse ranch. I never finished my degree, but my boss hired me because of work experience. Said my internship was enough. They just can’t bill you like a normal client. So voilà. I’m not tied down to the same ethics normal therapists are.”

Of course. That seemed like something that’d happen to me: getting a counselor that’s not a counselor at all. I think karma was trying to tell me something.

She leaned forward, making sure her cleavage was on full display. I eyed the horse behind her. He’d been eyeing her, too, stomping his foot in agitation. I narrowed my eyes and corrected myself. A mare. Morgan said most of these were mares.

“Any geldings in here?”

She paused, her eyebrows dipping together, but then she nudged the horse back into her stall. She closed the door and followed along as I walked past all of them. There were a good ten horses in the barn, maybe more.

She looked around and shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. Matthew Kellerman got these from the Coral Ranch just down the road. They breed mostly quarter horses. I don’t think they’d loan out a gelding, though. They’d keep those back.” She gestured to the wilderness beyond the field and fence. “Just to be safe, and everything has to be locked up tight. Want to make sure no mares run off with the herd.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, especially with that stallion. He’s the most male stallion I’ve ever seen. Not a mild temperament.”

I stopped and focused more on her. “What do you know about the herd? Are you from around here?”

She nodded. “I grew up here, came back instead of going to that grad school, and I just know what everyone around these parts knows. They’re protected by the government, though the government is thinking about rounding them up and there’s legislation that might get them slaughtered.”

No—no way. That’d devastate Morgan.

Seeing my look, she rushed out, “But don’t worry. I doubt that’ll happen to these guys. The Kellermans have been letting them roam these lands all their life, but they’re dangerous. I mean, they’re true wild horses. Don’t get one cornered. They’ll fight back. They could kill a person.”

She began walking toward the front of the barn and, almost as an afterthought, mentioned, “I mean, except for the youngest Kellerman.” I froze, but she was too busy laughing to notice. “If she even exists.”

She was reaching for the door.

I clapped a hand over the knob, stopping her.

Her head jerked up, and I smiled, using my best seductive swoon there was. “What do you mean, if she exists?”

God. This therapist that wasn’t a therapist. I didn’t know her name. She was another female that blended in with all the other females in my life, but not Morgan. Morgan was special. Morgan was important, and now this pretend-therapist was seriously getting on my nerves.

She laughed, a nervous thread in her voice. Backing away a step, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged again. “It’s nothing, just a stupid joke.”

“Morgan Kellerman?”

“Yeah. It was the dad that killed her mom.”

My fake smile dropped. I clipped out, “What?”

The dad…

It clicked then. Everything. It was even in the goddamn script. Karen was hiding from her first husband—Morgan’s father.

I looked out the back of the barn, half-hoping that Morgan would be there but knowing she wouldn’t be. She was a damned ghost, and another piece of information fit into place about how much she must’ve needed to be a ghost.

Her father.

The therapist reached around me and opened the door so she could pass. “On top of the murder, the little girl was in the woods. She stayed out there so long that there was an uproar. It was a big deal. There was a murder and then a huge search party all at the same time. The Kellermans organized a manhunt. Dogs were brought in, professional guides, trackers. You name it. It took a couple days to find her. She was curled up behind a log, sleeping soundly. She was perfectly fine, even thought it was a game.”

“Was there news coverage about that?”

She shrugged. “Just the rumor mill. We don’t have local news like that. There might’ve been a news article, but everyone knows that Mr. Kellerman had it all covered up, the murder too. He didn’t want any of it leaking. Doesn’t like bad news spreading, could hurt his big fancy empire or whatever he runs. At least, that’s what people around town say.”

My stomach was rolling over. “Tell me more about that day, when Karen was murdered.”

She studied me a second, her eyes flicking up and down. “It’s an inside joke about the girl being a myth. Everyone in town knows she exists. I mean, it’s just something stupid we use to help with the tourists, you know? People like traveling up around here, seeing if they can get a glimpse of the ‘wild girl.’ We’re all, actually, kind of protective of her.” Worry etched in her eyes, and she flicked them up and down me. “Don’t go blabbing this shit to anyone else. Okay?”

I was sick to my stomach.

Morgan.

I looked again. Dense forest covered the mountain. There was a river that led into a lake. Crevices. Ravines. Cliffs. There was solid rock in some places and long billowy grass in others.