Rock Harbor Series - 01 - Without a Trace

  Lauri answered in a breathless voice rife with expectation. She probably hoped it was her boyfriend.

  “It’s Naomi Heinonen, Lauri. I have a question about this afternoon. Did you see a woman in the backyard with the O’Reilly children?”

  Lauri’s answer flipped Naomi’s heart right over. Her hand shook as she hung up the phone. “Let me see that glove again,” she told Emily. She took the glove and turned back the cuff. Her eyes grew wide at the initials she saw there.

  She rushed to the kitchen. “I have to go see Bree,” she told Donovan.

  13

  Some Friday nights at the store were boring, and this was one of them. No one had entered for the past hour, and Bree was ready to close the place down and head for home.

  “Bree?”

  The door to Nicholls’s slammed, and Bree heard Naomi rushing through the aisles.

  “Bree, come quick!”

  Naomi sounded . . . well, Bree wasn’t sure she’d ever heard the note of incredulity resonating in her friend’s voice, a kind of breathless hope and wonder. She came from behind the counter at the back of the store.

  “Back here. Don’t have a coronary. What’s wrong?”

  Naomi rushed to her and grabbed her by the arms. “You’re not going to believe this!” She took Bree by the hand and pulled her toward the break room. “Where’s Anu? She should hear this too.”

  Anu poked her head out from the break room. “What has happened? Perhaps the clock on the courthouse has begun to chime again after fifty years of silence? Or the Coast Guard has spotted the Loch Ness monster?”

  “Better. Sit down, both of you.”

  Her eyes sparkling, Naomi waited. Bree and Anu looked at each other.

  “Perhaps we’d better humor her,” Anu said. She pulled out a chair and sat down, folding her hands in her lap.

  Bree did the same. “Tell us now, or you’ll never get another of Anu’s sweet rolls,” she threatened.

  “Okay, here’s the story: I took a casserole over to Donovan’s.” She frowned at Bree. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I was going to see if there could be anything between us. Anyway, the kids were talking about the woman they saw the day they were lost in the woods. The witch in the woods, remember?”

  “I’d forgotten.”

  “It’s not a fantasy. I called Lauri, and she saw her too—today. And look here.” With a flourish, Naomi pulled a glove from her pocket. “Doesn’t this look like Davy’s?”

  Beside her, Bree heard Anu’s soft inhalation. Her own lungs seemed to constrict. She reached out and took the glove in her hand. “Yes,” she whispered. “He had a pair just like this.”

  “Look at the tag.” Naomi’s brown eyes sparkled with tears.

  Her hand shaking, Bree rolled the cuff. On the label, printed in black marker, were the letters DRN. David Robert Nicholls. Her fingers went numb, and her vision blurred. “It’s his; it’s Davy’s,” she whispered. “Why would she have Davy’s glove?”

  “She must have found it,” Naomi said. “This woman must know where the downed plane is. If we can find her, she can tell us where the plane is. You’ll finally have closure.”

  Just when she was ready to move on, the door she was about to shut had swung wide open again. Bree clutched the glove in her fist and brought it to her nose. “It doesn’t smell like him anymore.”

  “The woman’s son was probably wearing it. This has to be the woman Fay was talking about—the one with an airplane seat in a ravine near the cabin.”

  “The backpack!” Bree said.

  “What is this?” Anu asked.

  “In Fay’s backpack there was a book, a log or notebook of some kind. Mason said I could look at it when he was done, but he hasn’t called to tell me to come get it.” Bree stood.

  Anu caught her hand. “Please, kulta, do not let this drag you back to the past. I’ve seen your efforts to move forward. While I want to bury our loved ones, you must not find a new obsession in locating this woman. You still have no idea where to look.”

  Bree’s exhilaration ebbed. “Just until the first of the year,” she promised. “But surely you agree that we should follow this lead.”

  Anu nodded. “But if it dead-ends, you must let it go, Bree. If God ordains the forest must keep Rob and Davy, we must accept his decision.”

  Everything in Bree’s heart shouted that she would not, could not let it go. For the first time, the realization of her quest seemed possible. Anu couldn’t ask her to turn her back on this. Her free hand curled around Davy’s glove so tightly that her nails cut into her palm.

  Anu sighed. “Go see Mason. I’ll close the store,” Anu said as she released her hand.

  Bree bent to kiss her mother-in-law’s forehead. “I love you, Anu,” she whispered. “I’ll call you.”

  Anu patted her cheek, and Bree grabbed her coat from the rack against the wall. “Let’s go,” she told Naomi. Now more than ever, it was imperative that she trace Fay’s whereabouts. The key to finding her family rested in her ability to find out what had happened to Fay.

  Bree and Naomi ran down the street toward the Rock Harbor County Jail. A cold rain drizzled, stinging Bree’s face as she loped along just ahead of Naomi. She burst through the doors to find Mason behind his desk, a roast-beef sandwich halfway to his mouth.

  “Mason, I need to see Fay’s notebook—the one in her backpack.” Bree shook the cold water from her hair.

  Mason put down his sandwich. “What’s this all about?”

  Bree hadn’t let loose of Davy’s glove for a moment. The texture of the wool kept her from thinking it had all been a dream. She held it out wordlessly.

  Mason’s eyebrows shot up as he took the glove from her. “Davy’s?”

  The door crashed open, and Hilary rushed into the room. “I stopped by the store and Mother told me the news.” She hurried to her husband’s side and snatched the glove from his hand. “It is Davy’s.”

  “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Mason demanded.

  Naomi quickly explained. Hilary danced around the room, waving the glove like a trophy, then spun around to Bree and hugged her. Bree clung to her tightly. Apparently Hilary had forgiven her for their tiff the night of the campaign party.

  Mason stroked his chin. “I reckon we could take a look at that notebook. It doesn’t say much though. I didn’t see anything about a woman and a cabin.” He went to the back room.

  “You have to find this woman, Bree,” Hilary commanded. “Drop everything you’re doing and find her.”

  Hilary usually ordered her around, so why did this particular command cause something within her to rise up and rebel at the demand? She had intended to drop everything anyway, but all at once she’d had enough of meekly obeying to keep the peace. She wasn’t an extension of Hilary’s brother; she was Bree Nicholls, a woman in her own right with hopes, dreams, and desires. Somehow she had to make sure her efforts to resurrect the old Bree didn’t fizzle like green wood in a fire.

  She lifted her chin, but the words of independence died on her tongue when she stared into Hilary’s face. “I will,” she said. “I’ll do everything in my power to find the woman.”

  Mason came in with the notebook in his hand. “Here it is, but like I said, I don’t think you’ll find anything in it.” He held it out to Bree, but Hilary made a grab for it.

  “Let me see. I’m a fast reader. I’ll take it home and read it tonight.” Hilary held the book to her chest. “I’ll call you in the morning, and we’ll decide what to do next.”

  Bree’s hand dropped. She saw the look of censure on Naomi’s face and hunched her shoulders. “Let’s go, Naomi,” she said.

  Back outside, the cold wind stung her cheeks. Naomi walked silently at her side toward the lighthouse.

  “Why do you let her do that to you?” Naomi burst out when they finally reached the gate to Bree’s home. “I thought you were developing some backbone lately. You curl up like a pill bug when it comes to Hilar
y.”

  “You don’t understand,” Bree said.

  “You’re right, I don’t understand. I remember what you were like when you first came here. Bright, interested in everything, open about your feelings. Now you never talk about how you feel. It’s ‘Yes, Hilary,’ and ‘I’ll take care of that right away, Hilary.’ You never say no to her. You poke fun at her and laugh when I call her the poodle, but the minute she arrives on the scene, you crumple. What gives?”

  Bree wasn’t sure she could explain it. “I never had a sister before,” she began. “When we moved here, I was desperate for Hilary to like me, for everyone to accept me. I don’t know how it happened, but little by little, as I tried to fit into the Nicholls family, I left pieces of myself strewn along the way. I’d always felt like a misfit. My mom is an alcoholic, and I never knew my dad. What did I know about how a real family acted? So I tried to emulate Hilary, to become someone she would approve of.”

  The wind teased tendrils from Naomi’s long braid and blew them out around her head in a halo. Her eyes softened. “Bree, that must have been awful. But God loves you just as you are. His opinion is the only one that matters. We all have things we wish we could change about ourselves. You admire Hilary’s self-assurance, the way she fits in. But she’s not perfect, and you know it.”

  Bree nodded.

  “So be yourself, speak your mind, be your own person. God created you for a purpose.”

  “You sound like Anu,” Bree said softly.

  “Anu is a wise lady. Listen to her.” Naomi gave her a little shove. “Now go feed your dog. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  “I’m going to Palmer and Lily’s for a late supper. We’ve been trying to get together for nearly two weeks. Can you and Charley get away tomorrow? We’ll take the dogs to Donovan’s and see if they can pick up the scent.”

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Early. Maybe seven-thirty? I’d like to start tonight, but it’s already dark. Daylight would be better.”

  “See you then.” Naomi squeezed her hand then jogged toward the Blue Bonnet.

  Bree hurried inside and fed Samson, then she and the dog climbed into the Jeep. It was already later than she’d planned. The Chamberses would be wondering what had happened to her.

  When Bree arrived, after the warm greetings and the cries of delight from the twins at Samson’s appearance, they went right to the dining room table. Lily had fixed a big pot of vegetable soup with warm, crusty rolls made from her grandmother’s recipe.

  After supper, Palmer lit a fire. Paige and Penelope giggled and climbed on Samson’s back as if he were a pony while he panted on a rug in front of the great stone fireplace. Their new puppy yipped and tugged on Samson’s fur with a ferocity the adults found comical.

  Lily brought Bree a mug of hot spiced cider. Wrapping her cold fingers around the hot cup, Bree settled back against the plump sofa cushions. “I love this room,” she told her host and hostess. “It reminds me of a ski lodge, with the exposed wooden beams and that wonderful fireplace.”

  “That’s why we bought it,” Lily said. She sat beside Bree and offered her a cookie. “It reminded us of the ski lodge in Lake Tahoe we go to so often. Palmer did such a great job on the fireplace, but I thought we might end up in divorce court before it was over. You know how anal he is about his tools, and when he couldn’t find that one screwdriver, he accused me of using it.”

  Palmer gave her a wounded look. “I never loan my tools, so I thought you or the twins had taken it.”

  “Where was it?”

  Lily shrugged. “He never did find it.”

  Bree chuckled at the sight of another family’s minor tiffs. She missed that camaraderie. She took the plate of cookies and passed them to Palmer. “Those look great, but I’m stuffed. I haven’t had a meal like that since the last time you had me to supper. My meals usually consist of peanut butter sandwiches or a cup of soup.”

  “No wonder you’re so slim,” Lily scolded. “I’ll have to invite you over more often and fatten you up.”

  “I hope that’s not the only reason you invite me over,” Bree said with a laugh. She felt a real kinship with Lily and Palmer. Lily had rushed to be with her the minute she heard about Rob’s plane going down. For months, Palmer had blamed himself. Rob had asked him to give the plane a once-over before the trip, but Palmer had gotten held up on a business trip to Milwaukee. Palmer had cried with Bree the minute he got back to town. Their support and encouragement had been vital to her. They still were.

  “You know better,” Lily said.

  “How’s the investigation going?” Palmer asked. He sat in a brown leather armchair with his feet propped on a matching ottoman. “Sad business.”

  “It’s not going anywhere fast,” Bree told him. “There are no real leads I know of. Samson and I found Fay’s backpack, but Mason said there wasn’t much of anything extraordinary in it. Hilary took Fay’s notebook home tonight to see if there are any clues in it.”

  “You should let Mason handle it. Why are you getting involved? It might be dangerous,” Lily said.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Bree said. She told them of the woman and the discovery of Davy’s glove. “So you see, this woman could be my link to the plane.”

  Lily clapped her hands. “Oh, Bree, how wonderful! I know finding them means everything to you. You’ve kept so much of yourself bottled up this past year. I do pray for closure for you.”

  Bree took a sip of her hot cider. “You had some business dealings with Fay, didn’t you, Palmer? Had you finalized the deal to buy that old mine?”

  He nodded. “Pretty much. The papers were ready to be signed. Steve is dragging his feet now, but I think we’ve got all the kinks ironed out and are ready to close the deal.”

  “I still don’t understand what you want with that old place,” Lily sighed.

  “Our town will die if we don’t get some tourism,” Palmer said. “That old mine will make a great living museum. I could buy another mine, but I’m glad this deal is going through. It might help Steve out a bit. Besides, I’m doing my part to save a slice of Yooper history.”

  Bree leaned forward. “Did Fay ever mention the plane crash to you?”

  Palmer’s brow furrowed. “Not that I recall. Oh, she was sorry about it when it happened, of course. Why?”

  “I need a clue for where to look for that cabin. Fay was all over the U.P., and it’s as hard to know where to look for the woman’s cabin as it is to know where to look for the plane. I’m going to Donovan’s tomorrow to see if the dogs can pick up her scent, but if that fails, I’ll have to figure out where to look next.”

  “You don’t suspect a link between Fay’s death and the plane crash, do you?” Palmer asked.

  Bree considered his question then slowly shook her head. “Not really a link. How could there be? The crash was nearly a year ago, and it was an accident. But maybe retracing her steps could lead me to the woman. Besides, Steve has asked me to help.”

  Lily moved the fire screen back into place and returned to sit beside Bree. “You do what you have to do,” she told her. “Though Palmer wants to help Steve by taking this mine off his hands, I’m still not convinced he didn’t kill her himself. He had plenty of motive.”

  Palmer frowned. “Steve is too strait-laced for murder. He’s not dangerous, but the real murderer sure is. I don’t want you to get hurt, Bree. Whoever killed Fay is dangerous. He may not want to hurt you, but if you keep poking around, he may have no choice.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Bree said. “I have Samson, after all.”

  At the sound of his name, Samson pricked his ears forward and got up. The girls protested and called to him when he came to stand at Bree’s knees. He pressed his cold nose against her hand, and she rubbed his thick fur. “You’ll protect me, boy, won’t you?” He whined, his dark eyes full of love, and she petted his back.

  Palmer snorted. “Samson is a great dog, but I’m afraid the only dan
ger a prowler would face would be getting licked to death.”

  Samson seemed to understand this slur on his integrity, for the fur on his neck stood up, and he gave Palmer a long stare. They all laughed.

  “Better watch out, Palmer, or Samson will show you just how protective he can be,” Bree said.

  Palmer leaned forward and patted the dog’s back. “He doesn’t scare me any.”

  Samson gave him another long stare then turned back to Bree.

  “I think you’ve offended him,” Lily laughed. “Maybe a doggie treat will sweeten his mood.”

  “I happen to have one in my backpack.” Bree dug into her pack and pulled out a box of doggie treats. Palmer took one and offered it to Samson. The dog sniffed it but turned away and laid his head on Bree’s knee.

  “He’s never done that before.” Bree rubbed her hands over her dog. “I wonder if he’s getting sick.”

  She grasped Samson’s chin and raised his head so she could look into his eyes. The dog’s dark and alert gaze reassured her. He pressed his nose against her hand again. Frowning, she rubbed his head. “He seems to be all right. I don’t know what’s up with him. Maybe he’s tired. I’m beat myself.”

  “Let me put some of these cookies in a plastic bag for you to take home,” Lily said hastily when Bree rose to say her good-byes.

  “I wouldn’t turn them down.” Bree scooped up Paige and hugged her. The feel of the little girl’s warm body, round and innocent, brought back so many memories, both good and painful. She set her down and grabbed up Penelope.

  “How much do you love me?” she asked the child.

  Penelope wrapped her arms around Bree’s neck and squeezed.

  “Wow, that much?” Bree hugged her close and kissed the petal-soft cheek.

  The little girl nodded, and Bree kissed her again before setting her down. “I’d better get going. Samson and I are going to get back on the search trail again tomorrow.”