Southern Storm
CHAPTER 28
A yellow lamp burned in Blair’s office, casting threatening shadows on the walls and ceiling. She checked the clock—2:00 A.M. She’d been at this for hours and had come up with little information. She’d learned that William Clark was a contract lawyer who worked independently. He had no police record and had led an uneventful life up until the day he stepped out in front of Cade’s car.
And she’d found next to nothing about Ann.
She sat back in her chair and rubbed her aching forehead. Regardless of her spotless record, Ann Clark knew something about Cade. He could be somewhere in that house. There had to be a bomb shelter the police hadn’t seen, a tornado room, something somewhere that they hadn’t run across.
The Clarks didn’t own any property other than the house at Washington Square. The woman could have him in some vacant structure that she didn’t own, of course. A warehouse somewhere or an empty house, or maybe that of a friend who was helping her.
She got up and walked out of the office into the library lit only by a small recessed bulb near the door. The smell of dusty books permeated the room, and her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she paced, trying to make some sense of it all. What did she have?
Ann Clark had probably been angry about her husband’s death and might have sought revenge. It was clear that she had met with Cade on the morning of his disappearance, that he’d gotten into her car, and that he’d never been seen again since.
But that still didn’t tell her where he was.
Her stomach sank as if it contained concrete, and her breathing seemed labored and short. The thought that Cade was dead, lying somewhere undiscovered, shot through her. Quickly she shook it away. She couldn’t think that way. He had only been gone a few days. He was a strong man, tough and capable, not prone to being bested by a hundred-ten-pound woman.
She went back in and turned off the computer and the lights, locked the door and walked across to her own home. Before going in, she stood out and looked across the street to the water glistening under the moonlight, stars sprinkling without number across its black expanse. Tears came to her eyes, and her heart swelled with emotion. And in her despair, she did something she had rarely done before.
“God, I don’t know if you’re even there,” she whispered, “and if you are, I know you don’t have any reason to answer anything I ask. But Cade’s one of yours. You didn’t save my parents, and I don’t know why. But save him. Save him, please, if you’re really there.”
A strong wind blew up from the water, sweeping her hair back from her face and whispering through the leaves on the trees above her. She wiped a tear from her face and felt the hard scaly skin of her burn scars under her fingertips.
It reminded her again of that day Cade had touched her scars, after she’d called God a divine terrorist who enjoyed wreaking havoc on people’s lives. Her anger about her scars and the secrets surrounding them had come out that day. Cade had looked at her with puzzlement on his face. Touching her scars with his gentle fingertips, he’d whispered, “I don’t even see them anymore.”
No one had ever been that intimate with her. Even her parents had avoided touching the scars she was so sensitive about. No one else would have dared do what Cade had done that day. In a lot of ways he had rescued her then, pulled her out of the pit of despair, given her a reason to stay in Cape Refuge and a reason to think she had some value to the people who lived here. She wished she could return the favor now and pull him out of whatever pit he was in.
“Don’t let him be dead,” she whispered out loud. “Please don’t let him be dead.”
When she finally went into her house and got ready for bed, she knew she was in for another night of lying awake and filing through the possibilities, dozing off and dreaming of some great Avenger chasing Cade down the road to the City of Refuge.
In her dream, he was overtaken, and left to die outside the city walls, only inches from the gate.
CHAPTER 29
The lies came more easily Saturday night.
Sadie waited until Caleb was bathed and put to bed, the dishes were clean in the kitchen, and all her responsibilities were done. Then she excused herself to go and read herself to sleep. She was very tired, she said. Though Morgan had looked at her with confusion and a little suspicion, she thought she had pulled it off.
She had finally sneaked out the front door, while everyone else was in the kitchen, and headed across the street to the beach and down toward the place where Trevor had told her to meet him.
The sun had set, and the sky at twilight billowed with lavender clouds, waiting for dark. God’s handiwork, Sadie thought. Just like she was God’s handiwork, inscribed on the palm of his hand.
Guilt surged through her again.
What kind of ungrateful daughter was she, to take the goodness God had shown her through Morgan and Jonathan and throw it back in his face?
She almost turned back, but then she saw him, elbows braced on the rail of the pier, wind teasing through his hair. He was watching her approach with a smile on his face. All thoughts of turning back fled from her mind as he came back down the pier and met her on the sand.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
She smiled. “Hey. Am I late?”
“Not too.” He kissed her, melting the residue of her guilt. She pulled back, looked up at him, and decided that any trouble this brought her was worth it.
“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her across the sand. “The party doesn’t start until after nine,” he said. “But we can head on over.”
Their shoulders bumped together. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Why? A girl like you? You’ve been to parties before.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m not the same person I was back in Atlanta. And I haven’t really been to any in Cape Refuge.” The warm breeze flirted with her hair. “I wish we could just skip it.”
“But then you wouldn’t meet my friends. Come on, Sadie, you can do it. I want to show you off a little.”
The idea that anyone considered her something to show off flattered her, and she felt pink warmth climbing her cheeks. He swept her hair behind her ear. Something like an electric shock went through her, jolting her heart. How did that work? she wondered. How could his simple touch make her heart skip beats?
“So you said these aren’t your friends from school?” she asked. “Where do you know them from?”
“Here and there,” he said. “But some of them are from school. You know how it is. Most of the parties on the island start out with a small list and wind up full of