Only by Your Touch

  Ben considered the request. Finally, he said, “I’ve got wild creatures that hang around up here, Frank. I allow no hunting, and they feel safe here. I don’t want a pack of dogs running loose.”

  Diablo brushed against Chloe’s leg. She rested a hand on the wolf’s regal head to let him know everything was okay.

  “We’ll keep the dogs on leads,” Frank assured Ben. “They won’t go chasing any of the animals.”

  Ben nodded. “All right, then. Bring them on.”

  Frank tipped his hat. “Thanks, Ben. You’re welcome to come along, if you like. It is your land.”

  Ben glanced at Chloe. “I think I’ll do that.”

  Chloe kept a hold on Diablo’s collar as Ben left the house. “No, sweetie,” she told the wolf. “Somehow I don’t think you’d mix very well with a pack of hounds.”

  Nan came into the entry hall; her eyes were wide with concern. “What’s happening?”

  Not wishing to alarm the older woman, Chloe pasted on a smile, closed the door, and patted Nan’s arm. “Nothing to worry over. A hiker is lost. Some searchers just asked Ben’s permission to come onto your land to have a look around.”

  Chloe had a bad feeling. She couldn’t say why. After comforting Nan, she stared out the glass beside the front door. Though the sound was faint, she could hear the frenetic baying of the hounds. Frank was absolutely right; the dogs sounded as if they were hot on the trail of something.

  Ben was surprised that a section of his barbed wire fence was down. He had checked the property line just that spring, and all the wire had been taut. Now it lay in a limp heap between two posts. The strands had been snipped.

  Disturbed, he turned to follow the searchers into the woods. Sheriff Lang, who’d never made a secret of his dislike for Ben, kept sending him suspicious looks. The dogs strained at their leashes and barked with a whining shrillness. Ben had no idea what might have happened to Jimmy Suitor, and he wanted the young man to be found. He just hoped it wasn’t on his land.

  About a hundred yards onto Ben’s property, they reached the crest of Cinnamon Ridge and started down a steep slope on the east side. Midway in the descent, the hounds came to a dense thicket of manzanita and began circling and sniffing at the earth. The men crouched in a circle around the spot. Beneath bits of rock, pine needles, and branches, the soil had been disturbed. Ben rubbed a pinch of dirt between his fingers. He guessed that the earth had indeed been turned, but not recently, maybe a month or more ago.

  The sheriff radioed two deputies parked on a forestry road above the ridge to bring down some shovels. He gave Ben a burning look. “It would appear that we’ve found Jimmy,” he said grimly.

  Ben couldn’t think what to say. He stared dumbly at the earth, greatly fearing that the sheriff might be right. Dogs didn’t behave this way unless they were onto a strong scent.

  Twenty minutes later, Ben stood solemnly to one side while three men worked to unearth Jimmy Suitor’s remains. Ben felt numb. Something kept tugging at his memory. Finally he glanced downhill, and there, about fifty feet below the thicket, was the log deck that marked his mother’s turnaround point when she went for walks. He remembered the morning Nan had come racing back to the house claiming to have seen a man burying a body. Dear God. Maybe she actually had.

  The diggers finally exposed the decomposing remains of what had once been a healthy young man. Ben stared at the grisly sight in horror. He blinked when the sheriff began reading him his rights.

  “Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “Wait just a damned minute. You can’t believe I had anything—”

  “You have the right to remain silent,” Lang began again.

  Ben couldn’t focus on the words. Dear God. He was being arrested for the murder of Jimmy Suitor.

  “What happened?” the sheriff asked as he slipped the card inscribed with the Miranda rule back into his wallet. “Did Jimmy come onto your land to do a little poaching? It’s a serious offense, Ben, but it’s not punishable by death. That boy didn’t deserve to be bludgeoned.”

  “I didn’t do this. What are you saying, Lang? You’ve got no proof. I own a large amount of land. Anyone could have buried that body here. What makes you so cocksure it was me?”

  Lang drew Ben’s arms behind him and cuffed his wrists. “Tell it to your attorney, son.”

  “You damn well know I will.”

  Ben craned his neck to look back at the makeshift grave as he was led away. Who had killed Jimmy Suitor, and why? Ben only knew that he was innocent.

  Chloe listened in shocked silence as Sheriff Lang informed Nan of her son’s arrest. White as a sheet, Nan stood in the open doorway, shaking her head and whispering, “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Nan,” Sheriff Lang said gruffly. He glanced at Chloe. “She shouldn’t be left alone. Are you going to be around, or should I notify her daughter?”

  Nan cupped a hand over her eyes and began sobbing softly. “This is a mistake, a terrible mistake.”

  “I’ll be available to stay with Mrs. Longtree,” Chloe said, “but I’m sure Ben’s sister will want to be notified. It might be better if you do that. She doesn’t know me, and Nan may be—indisposed.”

  The sheriff nodded. He patted Nan’s frail shoulder. “I’m sorry about this, Nan. Please try to understand, I’m only doing my job.”

  As the sheriff turned to leave, Chloe followed him out onto the porch. She drew the door shut behind her. “May I speak with Ben for a moment, Sheriff?”

  Lang sighed. “I can’t let you do that, Chloe. It’s against procedure.”

  Anger burned through her. “What? Do you think I’m an accomplice or something? I only want to tell him I love him and that I know he’s innocent.”

  “I’m sure he knows that.”

  Chloe grabbed his shirtsleeve. “Sheriff Lang, please.”

  The officer scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Damn it, Chloe. Oh, all right.”

  Chloe hurried out to the county car, a white Crown Victoria with a county sheriff insignia emblazoned over the doors. Ben sat in the backseat behind a security screen.

  “Two minutes,” the sheriff told her as he opened the door.

  Chloe crouched down, touching a hand to Ben’s shoulder. He looked at her with his heart in his eyes. “I swear to you, Chloe, I didn’t do it.”

  “I know, I know. How can you believe I might think you did?”

  She leaned in to kiss him. He tugged against the restraints, clearly frustrated that he couldn’t embrace her. Chloe put everything she had into the kiss, trying to show him how very much she loved him.

  When she drew away, he held her gaze. “Get that scared look off your face,” he said. “I’ll call my lawyer. He’ll have me out before Lang knows what hit him. They have nothing concrete on me. They can question me, but they can’t hold me, not legally. As for making anything stick, not a chance. I’m not guilty, and they can’t possibly prove I am.”

  Chloe couldn’t help but worry. Ben’s reputation in Jack Pine wasn’t the best, and the distrust was bound to work against him. “Isn’t your lawyer in another town?”

  He gave her that slow, lopsided grin that had made her heart skip beats ever since she’d first gotten to know him. “He has a long reach,” he whispered. “Trust me, I’ll be home before the day is out. He’ll make some phone calls, rattle a few cages, and before you know it, this will all be over.”

  Sheriff Lang stepped forward. “Time’s up, Chloe.”

  Tears filled Chloe’s eyes as she backed away. She was still standing there, long after the vehicle vanished from sight.

  Chloe had her hands full when she went back inside the house. Jeremy was awake and crying. Diablo and Methuselah looked at her pathetically, clearly understanding on some level that their master had been taken away. Nan sat at the kitchen table, rocking back and forth, her voice a monotonous chant as she wailed, “I told him. I told him I saw a man burying a body. Why didn’t he listen? Why didn’t he listen?”

  A chill washed ove
r Chloe. She remembered that morning so clearly now. Nan had come home, frantic with fear, saying she’d seen a man burying a dead body, but neither Ben nor Chloe had believed her.

  Chloe believed her now. She sat across from Nan and started bombarding her with questions. “The man you saw, Nan, the one burying the body. What did he look like?”

  Nan’s eyes became unfocused. Chloe realized that the older woman had lost connection with reality. She waited a moment, but when Nan didn’t resurface, she finally rose to prepare Jeremy’s lunch—anything to keep her hands busy.

  “He was tall and dark,” Nan suddenly said, as if Chloe had just asked the question.

  Chloe swung around to stare at her. “Tall and dark. What else, Nan? Do you remember anything else?”

  “He was wearing a ball cap with the bill turned down to shadow his face. And sunglasses. He was wearing sunglasses like Hap used to wear.”

  “Did you know him?” Chloe asked.

  “No,” Nan whispered, shaking her head. “At that distance, I couldn’t see his face very clearly. During my marriage, I never went to town much, so maybe I’ve never seen him.” Mouth trembling, she fixed Chloe with a pleading look. “My Ben, they’ve taken my Ben. Oh, God, Chloe. Even if I tell the police what I saw, they aren’t going to believe me. Who’s going to believe a crazy woman?”

  “Oh, Nan, you’re not crazy,” Chloe soothed.

  Nan buried her face in her hands. “I hate being like this. You think I don’t realize, but I do sometimes. The other morning I couldn’t remember my granddaughter’s name. I love her so, and for the life of me I couldn’t remember her name.”

  Chloe could barely comprehend how awful that must be for her. She sat back down at the table and tried to think of something to make the other woman feel better. Inspiration finally struck.

  “Your illness brought Ben back home,” Chloe pointed out. She stared out the window for a moment. “Not just to the ridge, though I know he loves it, but home to who he really is, Nan. If not for your illness, he might still be out there somewhere, denying his heritage and his gift, with no hope of ever finding himself and true happiness.”

  A hopeful light entered Nan’s eyes and she smiled through her tears. “That’s true, I guess. He did come back to take care of me.”

  Chloe gave the older woman’s hands a squeeze. “And because he did, he and I met. When you stand back and really look at all those puzzle pieces you call life, sometimes there’s a beautiful picture that you can’t see when you’re standing close. A meaning to it all, as if everything that happens, even illness, may be part of God’s plan.”

  “I never thought of it like that.”

  Chloe forced a smile, praying that Nan could remain lucid long enough to give her the information she needed. “And it’s not true that no one will listen to you. I’m listening. I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously before, but I definitely am now. Is there anything else you can remember about that morning? Anything at all? The slightest detail may help clear Ben of the murder.”

  “I saw that man carrying the body down the hill and digging the grave.”

  “Is there anything else you saw?” Chloe asked. “Think very carefully.”

  Nan stared blankly at the table. Then she cried, “Yes! That man—the killer? Right before he dragged the body down the slope, I saw him bury a pack of some kind. Isn’t it possible he was burying evidence? The murder weapon, maybe?”

  Chloe pushed to her feet and started to pace. “Could you lead me to the spot, do you think? Not to where he buried the body, but to the first hole.”

  Nan nodded. “What are you thinking about doing?”

  Chloe stopped midstep. “Going on an excavation detail. Where does Ben keep the shovel?”

  Nan directed Chloe to the garage, then hovered in the doorway, wringing her hands as Chloe searched through the garden tools to get what she needed. “We can’t go up there now,” Chloe said over her shoulder. “They’ll be investigating the crime scene.” She locked her hands over the handle of the shovel. “We’ll have to wait until they leave. Then we’ll sneak up there.”

  “Isn’t it against the law to mess with a crime scene?”

  Chloe met Nan’s gaze and grinned. “I think so. Do you have a couple of flashlights?”

  Refreshed by a two-hour nap taken with Jeremy early that evening, Chloe was ready to go as soon as the summer dusk gave way to darkness. It was only twenty minutes before ten, but it seemed much later as they struck off down the steep driveway, Jeremy walking Methuselah on a leash, and Diablo trailing through the woods around them. Knowing that the wolf was checking for danger made Chloe feel safer. Venturing out into a forest at night would have been spooky under any circumstances. Knowing that they were about to visit the scene of a murder made it even spookier.

  Their flashlight beams bobbed on the road in front of them, striking a marked contrast to the darkness all around. Jeremy pressed closer to Chloe. “Mommy, do you b’lieve in ghosts?”

  “No, Jeremy, of course not,” Chloe said bravely. “Not in bad ghosts, anyway. If they exist, they’re just the spirits of people, like us. They wouldn’t want to hurt us.”

  Jeremy seemed reassured. Chloe’s hands were sweating so badly, she could barely keep a grip on the shovel. She tapped the tool blade on the earth with every other step, feeling a little like Moses walking with a staff across the desert.

  “How far is it, Nan?” she asked, hoping that the older woman didn’t trail off mentally as she was so often given to doing.

  “About a quarter mile from the house. We’ll be there shortly.”

  Nan angled to the right, taking a rutted dirt road that intersected the graveled driveway. They passed through an impossibly dark stretch where the forest canopy above them blocked out all trace of moonlight.

  “This is where the trees are. Remember, I told you how I hid behind the log deck until the man wasn’t watching, and then ran to reach the trees where I hoped he wouldn’t see me?”

  Chloe did remember, and she cursed herself again for not taking Nan seriously. Soon they reached a large clearing. Somehow, even though the area was bathed in faint moonlight, it seemed more ominous than the darkness they’d left behind. Deadfall gleamed silver in the moon-spun shadows, and huge clumps of manzanita in varying shapes and sizes dotted the landscape. Little wonder that Ben had seen no sign of turned earth from the road. There could be a dozen graves on that slope, and no one would spot them.

  Chloe shivered, wishing she’d thought to wear a heavier jacket. The night air in such mountainous terrain was chilly.

  “Are you warm, Jeremy?”

  “Yup,” the child whispered. “I’m shaking ’cause I’m kind of scared.”

  Chloe winced. She could only hope Jeremy wasn’t permanently traumatized by his memory of this night. “Don’t be scared, sweetie. Diablo’s here.” She glanced around, but in the darkness, she saw no sign of the wolf. “He’s watching out for us. Nothing will harm us with him standing guard.”

  “There’s the log deck,” Nan said softly. “One of Hap’s harebrained ideas, selling timber. He cut the trees, decked them to dry, and then left them to rot.”

  Chloe played her light over the pile of old logs. Much farther up the incline, her flashlight beam glanced off the bright yellow crime-scene tape that the sheriff had used to mark the area. “Oh, Nan,” Chloe whispered, “you saw Jimmy Suitor’s killer. You actually saw his killer.”

  “Of course, I saw his killer. I told you that, didn’t I?”

  Nan, wearing jeans and sneakers, made fast work of passing under the tape. Chloe held up the plastic for Jeremy and Methuselah to pass through, then ducked under to follow.

  Flashlight bobbing, she hurried to catch up. “Can you remember where you saw him filling in the first hole?”

  “Up there someplace,” Nan whispered, pointing with her light. “You know, an awful thought just occurred to me.”

  Chloe’s heart leaped. “What?” she asked.


  “Where’s the killer? He isn’t in jail. They arrested the wrong man.”

  Chloe laughed softly—the sound slightly frantic. She gulped, took a deep breath. “Let’s not think about that. I doubt he’s out here.”

  “You’re right. Only a damned fool would do something this crazy.”

  Chloe laughed again. The humor eased some of her tension. “Two damned fools. Let’s go.”

  Nan zigzagged back and forth once she had ascended partway up the slope. She examined the earth closely with her flashlight. “It was right up here somewhere,” she said several times. “I know it was. I may forget lots of things, but I remember that, plain as can be.”

  All Chloe saw was bushes, pine needles, and dirt.

  “He probably tried to cover the turned earth so it wouldn’t be noticeable,” Nan mused aloud. “Tap with your toe, Chloe. When you feel softness, give it a hard look. My guess is he strewed pine needles and brush over the spot.”

  Chloe was busily tapping a section of ground with her shoe when Nan said, “Here! Turned earth. This is right about where I first saw him. This has to be the spot.”

  Jeremy and Nan stood aside while Chloe put her back into the digging. The hole grew deep, and Chloe was about to give up when the blade of the shovel finally struck something soft. She tossed away the shovel and went to her knees to carefully brush away the remaining dirt with her hands.

  Nan, shining her light into the hole, identified the unearthed object first. “A backpack.”

  Excitement coursed through Chloe. She carefully unearthed the pack, reminding herself that it might not contain evidence that would clear Ben.

  “Why,” Nan wondered aloud, “did the killer dig a separate hole for the boy’s backpack? I was hoping he’d buried the murder weapon.”

  Chloe soon discovered the answer to that question. Beneath the backpack was a billy club. Even after being buried for a month, the weapon was still covered with blood and strands of hair. Chloe shuddered so violently when she saw the gory leavings that she almost fell in the hole.