He nodded grimly. “They left when I returned fire. Mason helped me get the body to shore and back to town. The autopsy is being done tonight.”
“Who was it?”
He shook his head. “Benjamin Mallory from Houghton. Late twenties and dressed only in his skivvies. If the men on the ATVs hadn’t come after me, I would have guessed it was suicide.”
“What’s Mason say?”
“He’s stumped too. The guy worked at a cannery in Hancock. He’s got some juvenile delinquency–type stuff on his record, but his mother has no idea why he’d be at Rock River or what he’d been up to.”
Hancock was just over the river from Houghton, and basically the two were one town. A fish-packaging plant. “Maybe he was scouting for a spot for a fish farm?” That was a stretch, and they both knew it. The lakes near Rock River would be inaccessible even if the area wasn’t in a national forest protected from harvest.
“Mason is investigating. He’ll figure it out.”
“This is all getting out of hand,” she said. “Skeletons in my basement, arson, someone taking shots at the wedding, and again at you. Can all this be connected somehow? It all seemed to start with finding Thorrington’s remains in my basement.”
“If there’s a connection between Mallory’s death and that, I’m missing it somewhere. Hey, speaking of the wedding, when are the newlyweds coming home?”
She knew he had changed the subject to ease her worry. He was so thoughtful of her, so kind. She was lucky to have him. “Tomorrow. I can’t wait to see Naomi. She’s going to flip out over everything that’s going on.”
“Maybe we could have dinner with them when they get back.”
“With the kids too! We could have it here or at Naomi’s new home.”
“Or at my cabin, though it’s pretty small.”
Kade’s cabin was beyond small; it was minuscule. But it suited him and Lauri. “How have things been with Lauri?”
Kade shrugged. “Still blowing hot and cold. But she’s been strange. Sleeping a lot and kind of lethargic. I’ve been thinking about taking her to see Dr. Parker.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Could she be depressed?” Bree knew all about depression. When Rob’s plane went down with him and Davy in it, she’d wanted to die herself. She smiled as she looked at her son and thanked God again that he’d brought them through the pain.
Kade sighed and ran his hand through his thick thatch of hair. It was a bit longer than usual and curled at the nape of his neck. Bree couldn’t resist the temptation. She leaned over and ran her fingers through it. He looked up and smiled the slow smile that always made her heart beat a little faster.
“She might be depressed,” Kade said, taking her hand and pressing his lips against her palm. “I’ve been worried about that. You think I should make her go to the doctor?”
Bree found it hard to think with him so close. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“How’s the house coming? I love Anu, but I miss our evenings together.”
His breath whispered across her face, and she leaned into his embrace. “Pretty good. I should be able to move back home soon, maybe two or three days.”
“Good.”
He tipped her chin up, and his lips came down to meet hers. All thoughts of her ruined dinner fled, and she snuggled into his embrace. Kade would keep her and Davy safe.
19
Bree awoke in the dark. She lay blinking in the dim light from the streetlamp. It was raining. The nudge came again, and she turned. Samson bumped her arm again then licked her face and whined. Davy. She glanced to the bed beside her, but her son was missing. Panic surged, and she rolled out of bed.
“Davy?” she called softly. Where could he be hiding? Samson whined and went to the closet. At least this time he hadn’t wandered far. She stepped to the closet door and opened it.
Rob had grown up in this room. It held two twin-size beds and all the little-boy things Rob had collected. His baseball bat, mitts, and balls were clustered on a rack in the corner. The dressers and beds were painted in red, white, and blue and held several collections of Star Wars figurines.
The closet was full of boxes of Rob’s old memorabilia that Anu was keeping for Davy, and he often sought this place when he was missing his daddy in an especially poignant way. Bree pushed the baseball and Boy Scout uniforms out of the way. A bulge under Rob’s Michigan State fuzzy throw moved.
“Sweetie, are you awake?” Bree pulled the throw away from her son’s face. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead, but he was asleep. She gathered him into her arms, pressing her lips against his damp forehead. He muttered and flailed restlessly, but his eyes stayed closed. Bree breathed in his little-boy scent, then sat on the edge of the bed rocking him back and forth and praying until his restless stirring ceased. When he was finally serene, she laid him back in bed.
She should be exhausted. In fact, she was exhausted. She just wasn’t sleepy. Samson settled on the foot of Davy’s bed and looked at her. “It’s okay, boy,” she whispered. He whined and got down from Davy’s bed. Thrusting his cold nose into her hand, he nudged her until she petted him. His thick fur had a couple of burrs in it, and she worked them loose.
He licked her hand then started to go back to Davy’s bed. Just under the window, he stopped and stiffened. The ruff on his neck stood up, and a low growl emanated from his throat.
Bree’s ches tightened. She slipped out of bed and peeked out the window to see what had disturbed the dog. Her hand sought his head, and she patted him. “Shhh.” If Davy woke up, the whole house would be in an uproar the rest of the night.
It was probably someone walking by. The rain fell harder. Why would someone be walking in the rain? She pulled back the curtain a bit and peeked out. A car was parked across the street, but she couldn’t tell if the dark form she saw was someone in the car or merely a shadow.
She could feel every thud of her heart, and she shivered. Should she call someone? There was no law against parking across the street. She spied the glowing red tip of a cigarette; then the car began to move. It turned the corner and was gone. Only after the street was empty did she realize the car lights had never come on. Swallowing hard, she tiptoed back to bed and crawled under the covers. Her feet and hands were frozen, and not just from the cold floor. She fought back the fear. Whoever it was, he was gone now. She’d tell Mason about it tomorrow. There was no use disturbing him now. Besides, the car had actually been parked in front of the neighbors’. So many scary things had happened lately, she was beginning to assume everything was connected to her and Anu, when it could have been something totally innocent.
Anu smiled when she saw Bree. “Good morning, my kulta. How did you sleep?”
“Not very well,” Bree admitted, tightening the belt around her terry robe. She stood yawning in the sunlight, wondering if she’d imagined the events of the night before. In the light of the day, her night terror seemed distant and ridiculous. She would say nothing to Anu, she decided. She likely had a case of jumping to conclusions, and she didn’t want to worry Anu.
“A cup of coffee will perk you up,” Anu said. “Help yourself while I prepare the nisu.”
The Finnish sweet bread was a favorite of Bree’s. She poured a cup of coffee, then sat at the kitchen table and watched her mother-in-law. Still slim and lovely, Anu was everything Bree wanted to be. But it wasn’t Anu’s appearance Bree so admired; it was her calm acceptance of life, her optimism as she faced the future in spite of difficult circumstances, the wisdom and love she poured out on her family and friends. Bree knew Anu’s faith had a lot to do with her attitude. She was a role model for Bree. Her own fragile faith cracked in the face of small obstacles, and she longed to be a rock like Anu.
“Why the long face?” Anu asked. “Something more than fatigue?”
For a moment Bree was tempted to tell Anu how incapable she felt, how sometimes she wanted to give up the struggle with her guilt, to forget what God expected of her. In some ways it might be eas
ier. But she also knew she couldn’t; she’d made an eternal choice. Anu would understand and try to comfort her, but this was a struggle Bree had to face on her own. And she would face it.
“Just tired,” she said. “Did you hear anything in the night?”
“Other than the rain? No. I slept like those old heart-pine logs still on the bottom of Lake Superior,” Anu said. “I have been so tired lately.” A shadow passed over her features. “Though he has been gone for thirty years, I have thought much of Abraham lately. Next month would have been our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary.”
“Do you think he’s dead?” Bree hated to ask the question, but in her mind Abraham must have died. Otherwise, surely he would have sent some word to Anu and his children.
“Sometimes I think yes and sometimes no.” Anu shrugged. “The pain of his desertion is gone, but I still pray for his soul and wonder what became of him. Max was always convinced something happened to him. He never believed Abraham would leave me and the children. But no trace was ever found, though Max helped me look.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something you said the other day. You said he was friends with Peter and some others. Who were the others again? Max was one, right?”
Anu nodded. “Yes. They called themselves the ‘Do-Wrongs,’ though I hated the name. Gary Landorf, Peter Thorrington, Max Parker, and Abraham. They were always together, from bowling in a league together to fishing on their charter boat.” She twisted the emerald ring on her hand.
“Gary Landorf—that’s Kade’s boss. I don’t know much about him. Did he help you look too?” Bree knew Kade didn’t think much of his boss, but that might be racked up to personal differences.
Anu shook her head. “He transferred out of Rock Harbor a few weeks after Abraham disappeared. It is only recently he has come home. He stopped by to see me when he first arrived and asked if I’d ever heard from Abraham.” She gave a sad smile and touched Bree’s cheek with gentle fingers. “It was a long time ago, kulta. And a complete mystery.”
“I intend to figure it out.”
“I do not wish to see you get hurt,” Anu said.
“I’ll be fine.” The aroma of nisu grew stronger. “Yum, that smells good. I think I’ll get a shower while that’s baking.”
Anu’s expression was troubled. “I do not like the thought of you poking around in this, my Bree. Let Mason handle it.”
“Mason has all he can do trying to figure out that fresh murder along Rock River,” Bree said.
“He knows for sure that was murder?”
“The guy died of a gunshot wound. And why else would those men shoot at Kade? It’s clearly no accident.” Bree took a sip of her coffee, then put down the cup and went down the hall to the bathroom.
As the hot spray from the shower head hit her, she planned her day. First she would go to the paper mill here in town and talk to Peter Thorrington’s stepbrother, Ted Kemppa. It was Tuesday, so he should be there. After that she would talk to Captain Argie Hamel’s sister, Susan. Though Susan had never been on the Seawind, she might remember something about Peter’s involvement in Argie’s rescue.
And with this new information about the shipwreck, another trip to the library might be in order. In fact, maybe she’d do that first. Davy could come along and get some books. Susan’s photography shop was just across the street from the library. Maybe she could pop in there a minute too.
She combed some gel through her hair and scrunched the short red curls then climbed into jeans and a sweatshirt. By the time she was dressed, Davy was stirring. Bree sat on the edge of his bed and tousled his hair. He smiled at her sleepily, and she pulled him into her lap when Samson moved out of the way with obvious reluctance. She lived for mornings. The feel of Davy’s warm, small body snuggled close to hers would carry her to tomorrow. She rested her chin atop his silky red hair.
“Mommy, can we go see Daddy?”
This was a common question. Bree had tried to explain to him that his daddy was in heaven, but then he asked to go see him there. How did a mother explain death when she didn’t really understand it herself?
She rocked him back and forth in her arms a bit. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll show you where Daddy is sleeping.” Was she making a mistake to take him to the grave? Was he ready for that? She didn’t know what else to do.
She bathed him and had him put on his jeans and a long-sleeve shirt; then they ate breakfast with Anu. At the refrigerator she poured her son a glass of orange juice and told Anu what she planned. Bree was relieved to see Anu agreed.
“It is time, kulta,” her mother-in-law whispered.
Half an hour later, Bree pulled into the small cemetery behind Rock Harbor Community Church. They’d moved Rob’s body from the woodland grave Rachel had laid him in right after Thanks-giving, before the heavy snows began.
She hadn’t been here herself since the funeral. Yards of snow and drifts as high as the house eaves had buried the site since early December. Her stomach felt as though a giant fist clenched it in a tight hold that nearly made her sick. Samson whined in the backseat then pressed his nose against her neck.
“It’s okay, boy,” she said softly. She parked, then let Samson out of the back. Bree gripped Davy’s hand as they skirted patches of thick mud, treading on stones scattered through the cemetery. She knew the grave was in front of the gazebo and slightly to the right. The obsidian stone was etched with a mountain scene and the words from Psalm 16: I said to the LORD, ‘You are my Lord.’
“Mommy, you’re hurting my hand.”
Davy’s complaint broke the rigidity of Bree’s body. “Sorry, sweetie.” She loosened her hold on his hand and scooped him into her arms. “This is where Daddy’s body is sleeping. But it’s just his body. The real Daddy is with Jesus. Remember the way he smiled and the little crinkles at his eyes? And the way he used to read to you and pretend to be all the characters? That’s the real Daddy.”
Davy nodded, his eyes wide. He looked down at the tombstone. “Why doesn’t he wake up?”
“Because Jesus needed him more than we did.” Even as Bree said the words, she wondered how that could be. Was Rob dead because of an evil man’s actions and because evil was more powerful than God? Or had God really allowed his murder for a reason? She didn’t understand why there was evil in the world that overcame good. Rob had died because he refused to condone evil. She and Davy could be proud of his integrity, but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was no longer in their lives. Or that she’d never had the chance to make amends and ask for his forgiveness. He would have offered it too—she knew that was so. Then why couldn’t she forgive herself?
A chill wind blew from the forest to her left, and she shivered. Where are you, Rob? Can you look down and see us here? Does God allow you to watch over us? She wished that was true. Rob would never let anything bad happen to them. But Jesus was even more trustworthy, she reminded herself. Rob was just a man. A good man, but a man nonetheless. Jesus was God.
Davy squirmed. “I want down.”
Bree set him down, and he walked slowly to the mound of mud. The grave had not yet been seeded, and the melting snow had left the ground a quagmire.
He knelt beside the mound. “Hi, Daddy. I’m mad at you. You should have told God no, that you couldn’t come. It’s not fair. You should tell Jesus to let you come home.”
Bree squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to stop him, to tell him his father couldn’t hear him, and that even if he could, there was no way he would ever come back. But Davy needed to vent. Her heart throbbed painfully.
When Bree opened her eyes, she found Samson curled against the boy. Davy had wrapped his arms around the dog and buried his face in Samson’s fur. She moved forward to join them. When she touched Davy, he flinched.
“Why didn’t you come find us, Mommy? If you’d found us, Daddy wouldn’t have gone away to heaven.”
“Yes, he would have, Davy,” Bree said, kneeling in the wet grass. “No one can say no when
Jesus says to come with him.”
“Daddy could have. He’s strong. You just didn’t get there in time. The doctor could have fixed him. Why didn’t you get there in time?”
Bree was weeping openly. “I tried, pumpkin. Samson and I tried as hard as we could to find you. Are you mad at Samson too?”
Davy’s face was screwed up as though he wanted to cry but was fiercely trying not to. “I’m mad at you, Mommy. I don’t love you anymore.” He jumped to his feet and rushed to the Jeep.
Samson whined and started after the boy, then turned back to lick Bree’s wet cheeks. Bree could tell he didn’t know who to comfort first. “I’m okay, Samson. Go to Davy,” she whispered. The dog licked her again, then turned and ran after Davy. He jumped into the backseat with her boy.
At least Davy was expressing his feelings now, and that was a good thing. So why did it hurt so much?
20
What a rotten morning. Crawling to the sink, Lauri grasped the edge and pulled herself to her feet. She leaned over and splashed cold water on her face, gasping at the relief it brought. She stared at her face in the mirror. White as the sand on Rock Harbor Beach. She looked bad. Really bad. How could she go to school like this? But she had to go. Today was the big algebra test, and she’d studied hard for it. If she stayed home, Kade would think she was trying to skip the test.
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her toothbrush and squeezed some Crest onto it. The minty taste pushed back the nausea even more. She’d make it. With a flick of the brush through her hair and a touch of makeup, she looked better. Not great, but better. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of breakfast, though she knew she should try to eat something. Maybe a few crackers. Eggs or frozen waffles would make her sick again. Luckily, Kade had left early—some big meeting at work he’d been anxious about. She hadn’t listened too well last night as he’d rambled on, but it had something to do with what a jerk his boss was being. Served Kade right though. Let him see how lousy it was to have to deal with unreasonable demands.