Reverently, she lifted the first box and opened the lid. It held a jumble of loose color photos. Her smile froze when she recognized the smiling lady on the top photo. With a little girl on one side and a boy on the other, a much younger Anu Nicholls smiled at the camera.
Lauri’s gaze darted around the room. Who would have photos of Anu and her family? Lauri sorted through the box. Every picture in it was of Anu, by herself or with the children. Someone was . . . obsessed.
Fear soured Lauri’s stomach. Was Anu in danger? She couldn’t find out without broadcasting to all of Rock Harbor that she’d broken the law by breaking in to someone’s cabin. In spite of the way things were at home, she wasn’t keen on being sent to an institution for juvenile delinquents.
Lauri had never felt such conflicting emotions. Anu Nicholls was one of her favorite people in the whole world. Lauri often stopped by the store and bought pulla on her way to babysit Donovan’s kids. Lately, Anu had taken to showing her how to make the Finnish delicacies she carried in the shop.
How could Lauri protect her without getting in trouble?
Lauri’s eyes widened, and she began to smile. Maybe she could solve the mystery herself. If she prevented someone from hurting Anu, surely no one would ask how she came by the information. Maybe she could actually redeem herself, prove to Kade that she was not the troublemaker he believed her to be.
In a fever of excitement, she began to go through the cedar chest. One box contained military medals and another, children’s drawings. The childish signatures at the bottom made her blink in astonishment. Hilary and Rob, Anu’s children. Of course.
She searched further and stopped when her hand touched cold metal. Two guns lay on the bottom of the chest. Lauri checked them. They were loaded.
Snatching her hand away, she scooted back on her heels away from the cedar chest. Her heart felt as cold as the metal on the firearms. Biting her lip, she forced herself to continue looking. There had to be some clue to the identity of the cabin’s owner.
She sorted through a jumble of old coins—some from other countries—and several boxes of baseball cards. Her hands went still as she realized she was leaving her fingerprints all over the stuff. But it was too late now. She laid each box aside as she finished with it. One side of the chest was empty now, and she continued to pry.
In one box she found handcuffs, duct tape, and rope. She felt sick as she wondered if someone intended to kidnap Anu. But why? She’d never hurt anyone. Money maybe. Everyone said Nicholls’ Finnish Imports had been a Cinderella kind of success story.
Flipping through a newer photo album, Lauri came across a recent picture of Bree and Davy. A large red circle was drawn around Davy, and Lauri felt her heart flip. Maybe Davy would be used to get at Anu. Was that possible? Nausea rose in her at the thought that this little boy might be put through even more than he’d already endured. She had to find a way to keep that from happening.
3
The naked bulb seven feet above the cracked concrete floor of the basement cast an anemic glow over the small room. Bree stood with her arms clasped around her amid boxes and bags prepared for Goodwill. She felt shaky and struggled to maintain a composed expression, even though Davy wasn’t around to require her calming influence. Her best friend and next-door neighbor, Naomi Heinonen, had come the minute Bree called and carried Davy off to safety at her house. She’d taken Samson too.
The acrid odor of blackened apple pie burned her nose. Maybe she could try again later. Easter was still four days away. She shuffled, arousing the dust. The cold concrete made her feet ache. Bree didn’t want to see what lay beyond the demolished wall, but she couldn’t keep her gaze away from the small area illuminated by Kade’s flashlight. Goose bumps pricked her arms, and she rubbed them away.
Her brother-in-law and town sheriff, Mason Kaleva, and one of his deputies, Doug Montgomery, poked cautiously through the contents behind the wall. Deputy Montgomery had always reminded her of a Saint Bernard, big and clumsy but full of heart. The Michigan State police forensics experts from Houghton would arrive any minute, and the deputy would have to let them take over—a circumstance he wouldn’t be happy about.
“We need more light,” Mason said. “Bree, any chance you have some kind of floodlight?”
“In the garage,” she responded. “I’ve got a halogen light that clamps on.” She tried to force her frozen muscles to move, but she was still in shock. A body in her basement? And she’d lived here four years, all this time over a graveyard. She shivered.
“I’ll get it,” Kade said. He handed the flashlight to Mason, then squeezed her arm as he went past her to the basement stairs.
His touch gave Bree courage, and she stepped over an open box of baby toys to the spot where Mason crouched. “Can you tell anything about the body?”
Mason’s bulky figure swung toward her, and he shook his head. “Forensics will have to tell us more. The skull is crushed. And it’s obviously from a long time ago. No telling how long this wall has been here.”
Kade quickly returned with the halogen work light. He plugged it in, and Bree blinked at the brightness. Its stark brilliance revealed the age and shabbiness of the basement. It also exposed the skull inside the cavity. She turned away, bile burning the back of her throat.
Though she wanted to turn and rush up the steps, this was her house, her responsibility. Swallowing, she forced herself forward, though it felt as though she moved against a stiff wind.
She crouched beside Mason. “Anything else in here?” Amazed at how calm her voice was, she leaned forward to get a better look.
A deep crack ran along the left side of the cranium, and just above the ear was a sunken spot. Rotted dungarees and a red shirt covered most of the skeleton, and the body lay curled in a heap. A brass lantern was on its side just past the body’s left arm. There were also a leather-bound book and a small metal box.
She reached out to take it then drew her hand back.
“What is that?” Mason asked.
“It looks familiar, but I can’t place it. Let me think about it. I did a lot of research when we bought the lighthouse; it will come back to me.”
“We’ll know more once forensics gets done with this.” He stood and backed away from the cavity. “Everyone away from the site.”
Bree was only too glad to obey. She went to Kade, wishing she could lean against his broad chest. He switched off the bright light, and the sudden dimness made the nooks and crannies of the basement take on sinister shadows. Her uneasiness deepened.
She hastily turned and went up the stairs, telling herself not to be ridiculous. This death had no power to hurt her or her son. But the safe haven of her home had been tainted with the corruption below. An impulse to make sure Davy was all right overwhelmed her. She grabbed her coat and went to the door.
“I’m going to get Davy,” she called.
She heard Kade’s deep voice behind her but didn’t pause. Outside, the icy wind nearly took her breath away. Lake Superior was covered in drifts, as was her backyard, some nearly as high as her kitchen window. The cold stung her skin and made her nose run. She plodded through the snowdrifts and got to her Jeep. A yellow ball with a smiley face painted on it perched on her antenna. It helped warn other drivers of her presence when driving in deep snowdrifts.
Her lighthouse home sat alone on a finger of land jutting into Lake Superior’s cold spray. At the beginning of the narrow road out to her lighthouse were her nearest neighbors, the Heinonens. Navigating the drifts with practiced ease, she drove down Negaunee Road to the Blue Bonnet Bed and Breakfast Naomi ran with her mother.
A light shone from the windows, and its cheer lifted the gloom of the overcast day. Festive icicles hung from the gutters, and colored lights winked through the snow on the shrubs. The three-story Victorian and all the other houses in town would not shed their Christmas garb until April, still two weeks away.
Bree parked in front then hurried up the walk, which was quickly disapp
earing in spite of the morning’s shoveling. Residents of Rock Harbor didn’t bother plowing their driveways in the winter. They merely shoveled the area in front of the garages. Most garages had been built just a few feet from the road instead of being attached to the house. It was impossible to keep on top of plowing the snow.
Bree pushed the door open and stepped into the hall. “Naomi? Davy?” she called. Charley, Naomi’s golden retriever, came to greet her, and she scratched his head. Samson rushed to greet her as well. She ran her fingers over his thick fur, taking comfort in his eagerness to see her.
“We’re in the parlor, dear,” Naomi’s mother, Martha, called.
Bree went through the door into the parlor with the dogs trotting after her. Davy and Naomi were bent over a game of Chutes and Ladders at the table in front of the fireplace. Martha sat in the rocking chair on the other side of the room with her knitting in her hands. Martha was dressed impeccably in a pink dress with matching shoes, not a hair on her head out of place.
“There’s my boy,” Bree said.
Davy smiled but his attention stayed on his game. “Mommy, can I stay here? I don’t want to go home yet.”
Bree swallowed her disappointment. Maybe she was expecting too much from him. While she wanted to spend every second with him, he was beginning to relax and get back to normal. And that was good. At least she tried to tell herself it was.
She ruffled his hair then settled onto the sofa. Apple candles spiced the air with a warm and homey fragrance.
“You beat me, you little twerp,” Naomi said, getting up from her chair.
Davy giggled. “Let’s play again,” he begged.
“No way. You cheat,” Naomi said, winking. “Besides, I need to go for the final fitting of my wedding dress in an hour. Want some coffee, Bree?” Her gaze signaled for Bree to follow her to the kitchen.
Bree got up reluctantly. The last thing she wanted was to rehash the events that had transpired in her basement, but she trailed behind her friend.
The kitchen was decorated with every conceivable kind of chicken, from chicken wallpaper to chicken stencils on the cabinets to a collection of chicken cookie jars. The black-and-white checkerboard floor was a nice foil for all the colorful ceramic figurines and containers loaded atop the cabinets. Bree had always wondered how Martha became so obsessed with the fowl assortment. Some of the things in her collection had been bought over forty years ago. Maybe she should come up with some kind of motif for her kitchen. It might be something Davy would enjoy. Cows maybe?
With the kitchen door shut behind her, Naomi lifted the coffee carafe and faced Bree. “Do you know who it is?”
Bree shook her head while Naomi poured. “Not yet. When I get a chance, maybe after Easter, I’m going to go to the library and do some research on the town history. I think it’s murder though.”
“Murder?” Naomi said the word like it was the furthest thing from her mind. “Why murder?”
“Mason’s not calling it that yet, but the skull was caved in. And why else would it be entombed behind that wall? I don’t like to think something like that happened in my house.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Maybe that explains the strange noises I sometimes hear. It’s a ghost.”
“You know there’s no such thing,” Naomi said.
“Rob used to say we had gremlins.” She smiled to show Naomi she was joking. Bree took the cup Naomi offered and lowered herself into a chair. Would she be able to take Davy and spend the night in that house? What other unpleasant surprises might she find there? Maybe it was time to sell the old lighthouse. But as quickly as the thought came, she rejected it. Davy needed the stability of familiar surroundings. She would have to get over her squeamishness.
“What noises are you talking about?” Naomi shut off the coffeepot warmer.
“I was kidding. Old houses make noises. It just took some getting used to when we first moved in.
“It’s more likely bats.”
Bree shuddered. “I’d rather face gremlins. But enough about this or I’ll be too spooked to sleep there tonight. I can’t believe you’re getting married in a week! A winter wedding seemed a little crazy at first, but you were right all along. It’s perfect.”
Naomi’s face softened and took on a dreamy expression. “You know, Bree, I never thought I’d ever be this happy. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. My life can’t continue to be this perfect.”
“God knows you deserve this happiness. What is it the Bible says? Something about God giving us our desires?”
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Naomi pirouetted around the kitchen floor. “Donovan is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And two lovely children as well.”
“You so deserve this. He’d better treat you right, or he’ll answer to me.” Bree watched the glow on her friend’s face and felt a trace of envy. Her own halcyon days as a wife grew dimmer with each passing day. She should have rejoiced that the pain was fading as well, but she fought tears instead.
Bree felt Naomi’s gaze and looked up to find her friend studying her. “What?” she asked. “Do I have concrete dust on my face?”
“You’ve been strange lately, almost sad. I was getting used to seeing you just giddy with joy after Davy came home. What’s wrong?”
Bree grimaced, which was better than crying. “I wish I knew. It’s almost like the postpartum depression I went through after Davy was born. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night sobbing out loud. I think it’s probably . . . guilt.” She whispered the last word and dropped her gaze to her lap. She plucked at the threads on her jeans, still blotched with flour.
“What do you have to feel guilty about?”
“I keep remembering my hateful words to Rob.” Her voice broke. “I let him go to his death thinking I believed him to be the kind of man who would break his marriage vows.” Bree stared into the murky depths of her coffee and wished she could see how to do what she knew she must.
“It’s my fault he’s dead and that Davy endured all that turmoil. My fault he’s going to grow up without his father.” She felt Naomi slip a comforting hand onto her shoulder. Bree reached up to take it.
“God is going to redeem all that, remember? Besides, you didn’t sabotage his plane—Palmer did.”
“My head knows, but my heart is another matter.”
She clung to the promises she was reading for the first time in the Bible, but how did she get rid of feeling like she’d failed?
Naomi sat beside Bree and put her coffee cup on the table. “Any woman would have reacted the way you did. You didn’t know it was all a lie, a ploy to cover his murder.”
“Davy had another night terror last night. What if he’s scarred for life?”
“Stop it!” Naomi leaned forward and took Bree’s hands in hers. “He’s been through a horrible trauma, Bree. Give it time. Dr. Walton will help him adjust.”
“That’s what Dr. Parker says. But every time Davy wanders off I have to relive that year of searching for him. I can’t stand it.”
“Just give him time,” Naomi said soothingly. “And give yourself time. God has forgiven you; you should forgive yourself too.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
The phone jangled on the wall by the door, and Bree jumped. Naomi went to answer it. She started writing on a notepad attached to the wall and asking questions like, “How long has she been gone?” and “Where was she last seen?”
Bree tensed when it became obvious it was a search-and-rescue call. Anu had helped her open Kitchigami Search-and-Rescue Training Center, and with spring approaching, she was expecting frequent calls. The last few months had been a remarkably light time for her team, but that wouldn’t last, though she’d been glad of it through the winter. It had allowed her to devote her time to Davy.
Naomi hung up the phone. “Gretchen Siller is missing. Karen thinks she’s been kidnapped.”
“Oh no! Quentin?” Bree’s heart constricted wit
h terror for the little girl. The man might do anything. He reminded her of a rabid dog she’d seen once. It looked perfectly normal until she looked it square in the face, and then it became all snarling teeth and wild eyes.
Naomi nodded.
“They should never have let him out of jail!”
“They can’t do anything unless he does something first.”
“Let’s hope today isn’t that day,” Bree said grimly.
4
The winter storm had finally blown itself out, and the afternoon rays peeked through the clouds. Sheer sunbeams touched roads unaccustomed to the extravagant warmth. The top melting layer with heavy snow underneath made for treacherous driving conditions. Snowdrifts several feet high hemmed in the highway so that it was barely wide enough for Kade’s truck. One wrong move and he’d be in the ditch.
Kade drove into the parking lot that served the park headquarters of the National Kitchigami Wilderness Tract. Most of the snowmobilers had gone home for the season, and the parking lot held only two SUVs. In another few weeks, motor homes, campers, and vans would rumble along the narrow gravel tracks and fill every available parking space.
He turned, and a smile lifted his lips. His baby-wildlife refuge center was almost finished. The brick building matched the main building, except it had large windows for people to peer through to watch the wild babies. Kade stepped inside and glanced around at the cages. Some had branches awaiting bald eagles and northern spotted owls. Others would house black-footed ferrets, gray wolves, and Canada lynxes. A mesh-covered aviary behind the building was underway, and a fenced-in area for bighorn sheep would be the last thing constructed.
A new interactive educational room held displays of endangered species. Kade looked with pride at the elaborate displays for mountain beaver, eastern puma, and pygmy owl. He itched to be able to throw open the doors and allow the public inside.
The front door opened and his boss, Gary Landorf, stepped in.