Cry in the Night

  Rob’s grin faded. “But you’re not.”

  “I don’t know what to think, how to feel. You walked off and left our son to die in the forest. You left me to grieve you and search for your body. How could you do that, Rob? How could you destroy our lives and just walk away?”

  He hunched his shoulders and didn’t look at her. “What good does it do to talk about it now?”

  “What good does it do? What good does it do?” Her voice rose with every word. “It might help me understand how a man who professed to love his family could walk away, just like that! It would tell me who the man I married really was inside.” She shook with the violence of her anger. “I thought I knew you, Rob.”

  “Oh, you knew me all right,” he said, his tone hard. “You accused me of having an affair. That’s how little you knew me.”

  The anger banked a bit. “And I’m sorry for that. I found out it was all a lie, that the woman who called me had never even met you. I often wished I had a chance to apologize.”

  “It hurt, Bree, it really hurt. I would never have cheated on you. But you can’t say the same, can you? Here you are, remarried already.”

  “Already? Rob, you’ve been gone for nearly four years! Dead, I thought. Was I supposed to become a nun?”

  He pressed the bridge of his nose. “Maybe. I don’t know. I was just disappointed to find out you cared so little.”

  Was he insane? Bree stared at him. “I’m not the one who walked away. You faked your own death.”

  “I couldn’t bear to come home and tell you Davy was dead,” he muttered.

  Bree blinked and looked hard at him. “Dead? Davy isn’t dead. He’s in his room.”

  “I know that now,” he said. “But I didn’t know it. Not until I came to town last week.”

  The air grew thin, threatening to suffocate her. Bree stared at Rob’s face. Reality spun in a vortex around her. “What do you mean, you thought he was dead?”

  He blinked slowly, never breaking their locked gazes. “I saw it on TV.” His words were hoarse, choked.

  “You saw it on TV?” she whispered. Her lips had no sensation.

  “After the accident. I-I don’t remember much. I remember waking up in pain. Blood poured from a gash on my forehead, and I touched it, thinking someone must have attacked me. I knew I needed a hospital.”

  “Where was the plane?”

  “I don’t remember seeing it. I staggered to my feet and walked through the woods. I took a guess at the right direction and struck out along a brook. My head hurt and I couldn’t see much. I finally came to a dirt path.”

  “You didn’t see Davy in the wreckage?” Bree didn’t know whether to believe this story or not.

  He shook his head. “I never saw the wreckage. I couldn’t remember what had happened to me, then I fell and woke up in the hospital. I heard the beep of a monitor. A nurse asked me my name, and I realized I didn’t know. Everything was a fog.”

  She clenched her fists. “Oh please. Can’t you come up with a better lie than that?”

  He seemed not to hear her. “I asked her to turn on the TV. There was a news report about searchers looking for a downed plane and I realized I was Rob Nicholls. The reporter said Davy was dead.”

  The agony in his voice convinced her. He’d always loved his boy. Tears flooded her eyes. “Why didn’t you call me? You could have told me where to look. I could have found him sooner.”

  He dropped his gaze. “I-I couldn’t face you. Not when I’d killed him.”

  “It was an accident. Unless there’s more you’re not telling me. How were your clothes found on the other man? And who is in your grave? I don’t understand anything.”

  “It’s none of your business. Not now when you’ve put another man in my son’s life.” He flung open the door and stepped out in the snow.

  She grabbed at him. “Don’t you walk out on me! Don’t you dare walk out again without answering my questions.”

  He slammed the door. “I’ll be in touch,” he shouted through the window. He ran to the front of the restaurant and jumped in his car.

  Bree sank back against the seat. The anger in his voice when he’d talked about her putting another man in Davy’s life terrified her. Did he mean to do something about that?

  The white landscape passed in a blur. Kade pulled into the driveway of a small place. The house was a mobile home with dented metal siding and concrete blocks for steps. A ramshackle outbuilding allowed air through the cracks. A rusty white pickup sat in the driveway.

  Lauri threw open her door and charged up the blocks past the pickup. Kade was right on her heels. He paused when he saw a busted lock and the door standing open a crack.

  He grabbed his sister’s arm. “Wait a sec.” He pointed to the doorjamb. “Has it always been broken like that?”

  She started to struggle out of his grip until she looked at where he pointed. “No,” she said, her hand going to her mouth. Jerking her hand from Kade’s fingers, she shoved open the door. “Wes?”

  “Wait, Lauri. Let me take a look first.” Kade brushed past her and blocked her view of the trailer. The two kitchen chairs were upended. Blood smeared the table. He hoped it was animal, not human, but his gut clenched. From where he stood, he saw a boot extending into the kitchen from the bedroom that lay beyond. The boot wasn’t empty.

  He turned and grabbed Lauri’s shoulders, forcing her to the door. “Go call 9-1-1.”

  “Why?” She jerked around and stared down the length of the trailer. Her cheeks paled when her gaze fell on the shoe. “Wes!” she shrieked.

  She sprang toward the bedroom, but Kade blocked her access. “Do what I say! Call an ambulance.”

  Sobbing, she ran back through the door for Kade’s truck, where she’d left her bag.

  Kade’s tread was heavy on the cracked vinyl floor as he walked to the bedroom. The foot hadn’t moved, and from the amount of blood on the floor, he feared what he would find.

  His steps slowed. He didn’t want to see what was connected to those boots, but he had to. His gaze traveled from the foot up the jean-clad legs to the fancy belt buckle. He winced when he saw the blood-soaked chest and the pale face of the young man who lay there.

  The pallor told him the boy was dead, but he knelt and pressed his fingers to Wes’s neck. Nothing. Straightening, Kade backed out of the room. He didn’t want to contaminate any evidence. This was clearly murder. Someone had aimed the sawed-off shotgun lying on the floor at the kid and pulled the trigger.

  A slow burn started in Kade’s belly. Poor kid. Poor Lauri. She was going to blame herself.

  As well she should. Kade didn’t want to admit it, but these kids had brought this on their own heads. He heard his sister calling his name in a desperate voice. “Be right there,” he yelled.

  Careful to avoid the blood on the floor, he made his way through the kitchen to the door and down the block steps, where he found Lauri sitting on a tree stump clutching herself and rocking. He didn’t want to tell her the man she loved was dead, but she probably knew in her heart.

  She looked up at his approach. Her blue eyes were wide with disbelief and horror. “He’s okay, isn’t he? I called an ambulance.”

  Kade crouched beside her and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, honey. He’s been shot.”

  “Shot? His gun went off?”

  “I don’t think so. Looks like murder to me.”

  She sprang to her feet. “You mean he’s dead?”

  He could have kicked himself. Bree was much better at these kinds of things. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  She threw herself against his chest and nearly toppled both of them into the snow, but he regained his balance and held her tight. Sobs shook her frame, and he wished he could absorb some of her pain.

  “Mr. Jones killed him,” she sobbed. “I told Wes that he was dangerous.”

  “What does Jones want?” Kade feared the answer. “Why is he following you? Why would he kill Wes?

  Lauri threw hersel
f against his chest again. “He wants Davy,” she wailed.

  Adrenaline hit Kade’s head first, then dispersed to his muscles with a jerk. “Dave? What’s he got to do with this?”

  She wiped at her eyes. “He says he needs leverage.”

  The kidnapping attempt. It was connected to this guy? Kade didn’t understand anything.

  Her sobs began to turn to hysteria. “What can we do?” she got out in gasps.

  He’d find a way to talk to Mason in private so his family was protected. Kade knew better than to try to handle this on his own.

  He had friends. They would help make sure Kade’s family was safe.

  The ambulance siren blared in the cold air, and Kade stood, his muscles stiff from his position. The vehicle came screaming down the road and turned in the lane. The light pulsed as the paramedics leaped out and came rushing toward him.

  He motioned to the trailer. “Back bedroom. But he’s already gone.”

  The men’s pace slowed as they approached the door and entered the home. Lauri buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Kade wished again that Bree were here. He’d call her to come as soon as he talked to Mason.

  A squad car’s siren shrieked before cutting off as it pulled into the drive. Two policemen hurried toward him.

  “I’ll be right back.” Kade peeled Lauri’s arms from around his neck and walked out to meet the police. “It’s bad, Officer,” he said. “Someone shot Wes Townsend with a sawed-off shotgun.”

  The officer winced. “Either of you see anything?”

  He shook his head. “He was like that when we arrived.”

  He answered a few more questions, then when the men walked toward the trailer, he called Mason and told him what Lauri had done, about the threats, everything. “Lauri says this man wants to talk to Dave in private—something about leverage. The only thing I can think of is when Dave said he saw a windigo bury a baby. Could that have been real?”

  “I think it’s time I had Dave show me where he saw this burial,”

  Mason said. “I should have done it sooner, but every day we’ve been hit with something new.”

  “Wait, I just thought of something,” Kade said before Mason hung up. “Lauri overheard the guy at Mrs. Saunders. She’ll know his real name.”

  “I’ll go see her.”

  Kade longed to go with him, but he couldn’t leave Lauri in this state. “Call me after you talk to her.” He put his phone away, then jogged back to his sister and led her to the truck. She was shuddering with the cold and with shock. He turned on the engine. It warmed up quickly, and he turned the heat on full blast once the thermometer needle moved off cold.

  At least he was doing something. It was easy to fix her shivering, but it wasn’t going to be so simple to protect his family.

  19

  BREE DRESSED FOR DINNER AT HILARY AND MASON’S. SHE moved by rote, still shocked to have confirmed that Rob was still alive. She zipped up the dress, then glanced at her gold wristwatch and frowned. Kade should have been home by now with Lauri. If he wasn’t here in a few more minutes, she’d try to call him.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat that swelled every five minutes. How was she going to tell Kade? What was the status of their marriage? How would this affect Davy? And Olivia? Tears blurred her image in the mirror. She was so scared. How could she hold it all together in front of Rob’s family? And Kade?

  She forced herself to pick up a brush and run it through her red curls. She checked on Davy and Olivia and found him dressed in clean pants and a Michigan sweatshirt. He was on the floor talking to the baby, who cooed up at him.

  She dropped a kiss on his head, then turned toward the door. She stopped and turned back to look at him. He’d recognized his father even after all these years. Even if he did think Rob was a monster. “Have you seen the windigo anymore?”

  “No,” he said. “It’s gone.” He hesitated. “Mom?”

  She looked back at her son. “Yes?”

  “Do you ever miss Daddy?”

  She retraced her steps and sat on the edge of his twin bed. Kade had made it to look like a racecar, complete with wheels. A boy’s perfect bedroom. Her husband had done so much to let Davy know how much he loved him.

  She studied her son’s face. The dusting of freckles, the earnest green eyes, the red hair that fell across his forehead. “I think about him.” More than her son could possibly know right now.

  Davy’s brow wrinkled. “Isn’t it kind of mean to wish he was still alive? We wouldn’t be living with Dad now.”

  Bree leaned over and pulled him from the chair to her side. She wanted to hold him on her lap, but he often resisted that, now that he was such a big boy. Or so he thought. To her, he’d always be her little boy, even when he was forty.

  She smoothed her palms over his cheeks, which were too fast losing their baby chubbiness. “Your daddy will always be part of you, Davy.” For once, he didn’t tell her not to call him Davy. “You walk like him and have some of his expressions.”

  “Really? I’m starting to forget him, Mom.” Tears appeared on his lashes.

  Her tongue began to form the words that would say his father was alive, but she knew she couldn’t tell him. Not yet. “He’ll always be here with you. Even if you sometimes forget his face.”

  He leaned against her and wrapped his skinny arms around her neck. “Love you, Mommy.”

  Mommy. It was a word to treasure because she heard it so seldom. “Love you too, Dave.”

  “You can call me Davy. Just once in a while,” he whispered.

  She hugged him tight and brushed a kiss over his forehead. He smelled of little boy and soap, and her heart filled to overflowing with love.

  “I’d better do my homework now,” he said, pulling away.

  “We’ll be going as soon as Dad gets home,” she told him, rising and heading to the door. The sound of a door closing echoed up the stairs, and she heard Samson’s nails click on the floor in the hall. “There they are now. You’ll have a few more minutes until Dad changes.”

  She left her son’s room and hurried down the hall. Was Lauri crying? What sounded like sobs rose from the living room. Bree rushed down the steps and found Kade guiding Lauri to the sofa. Black streaks from her mascara made her eyes look bruised.

  Kade glanced up and saw Bree. Relief lit his eyes. He was pale too as he held out his hand to her. Bree hurried to join them. “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “He’s dead!” Lauri wailed, collapsing onto the sofa. She flung herself onto the pillow and buried her wet face in it.

  Bree’s confusion deepened, and she sought Kade’s face. “Who?” she mouthed.

  Kade took her arm and moved her out of earshot of Lauri. “Wes,” he said. The lines around his eyes deepened. “Shot. Lauri swears Mr. Jones shot him, and the death was a warning. Mason’s going to go see Mrs. Saunders and try to find out his real name.”

  “He murdered Wes?” Bree needed to sit down. She couldn’t think, couldn’t take it in.

  “There’s more, Bree.” He turned her to face him. “He told Lauri she has to bring Dave to talk to him. Alone.”

  All the blood drained from her head. “Absolutely not.”

  Kade was shaking his head as she spoke. “Of course not. But we have to protect him, watch him. The guy told Lauri that Dave was going to be leverage. I think that whole windigo-putting-a-baby- in-the-snow thing might have some basis in fact. Mason wants Dave to show him where this happened.”

  Was Rob capable of something so horrific? Once upon a time she would have said no. “Do we have to do that, Kade?” But she knew they did. They couldn’t hide in the house forever.

  He dropped his gaze, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry Dave’s involved.”

  Bree had reached out to embrace him when she heard Olivia begin to cry upstairs. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Don’t worry, Kade. We’ll get through this.”

  She wasn’t sure she really believed it. An earthquake of change
was already shattering their lives.

  Kade drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Lauri was still crying, so he left her on the sofa and went to the gun cabinet. Unlocking it, he checked the available ammo. There was plenty. He locked the cabinet again and went to the kitchen to throw the dead bolt on the back door. But that lock wouldn’t slow down a determined intruder with a gun for long.

  His gaze lit on Samson’s broad shoulders. An intruder would shoot the dog first, and it would kill Bree and him both if anything happened to their dog. “You stay close by me, Samson, hear?” The dog whined and nosed his hand. Kade petted him again.

  “Kade?” Bree stood in the doorway. “I called Hilary to beg off the party. I just can’t handle anything more tonight.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I’ll go talk to Lauri,” she said, walking toward the living room.

  Good. Bree would help get his sister’s grief under control. He never knew what to say, and tears made him want to run.

  Glancing at the clock beside the bed, he wondered how long it would take Mason to talk with Mrs. Saunders. He decided to check the pictures in the camera he’d left to track the cougars. He went upstairs to the computer room and booted the machine. Once he plugged in the camera, he watched the pictures come up and began to click through them.

  Open field. A rabbit. The rear end of an elk. Nighttime with nothing. Nothing here, he decided when he had about ten pictures left. It had been futile. Wait, what was that? He leaned closer and studied the photo. Just at the edge of the photo. He couldn’t quite make it out, but there was some kind of animal there.

  He flipped to the next photo, and the image of two spotted kittens sharpened into view. His jaw dropped. Though he’d hoped to find this evidence, now that he had, he couldn’t quite believe it.

  His gaze drank in the kittens. Maybe four weeks old. Their blue eyes were striking against their spotted fur. A lump formed in his throat. He’d get that grant now. This discovery was going to set DNR on its head.