Cry in the Night (6 page)

She pulled the Jeep into a vacant space by the coffee shop. As she neared the door, reality slammed into her again, and she nearly took her finger out of the dyke and let the tears go, but she somehow managed to hold on.

Preparations for the winter festival were in full swing around town, but the world had lost its gold-tipped glow for her. She stumbled into the coffee shop. The aroma of freshly ground beans cleared her head. She ordered her usual, then took it to a back table to nurse her wounds.

A woman’s voice interrupted her. “Bree? What are you doing here?”

Bree glanced up into Hilary Kaleva’s face. The mayor of Rock Harbor and Mason’s wife, Hilary was also Bree’s sister-in-law—or at least she was when Bree was married to her brother, Rob. “Have a seat, Hil.”

Hilary continued to stand, her blue eyes shocked under the sleek bob she wore. “Aren’t you going to go check on Davy?”

Every nerve ending in Bree’s body sprang to attention. She sat up straight. “What do you mean? He’s at Naomi’s. Or he was. Kade was going to pick him up.” Even as she spoke, her hands grabbed for her purse.

“Someone tried to kidnap him from Naomi’s backyard. In broad daylight and inside the fence! Samson drove the guy off.”

The air rushed out of Bree’s lungs and rasped past her throat. She found it impossible to draw in more oxygen. “Wh-what are you saying?”

Hilary’s gaze raked Bree’s face. “He’s fine now, don’t panic. Kade got there right after the guy ran away. So did Mason. Mason’s got his men looking for a black truck with no license plate.”

Bree scrambled to her feet. “Why didn’t they call me?”

Hilary followed her to the door. “I don’t know. Maybe Kade wanted to tell you in person.”

She didn’t say good-bye to Hilary, but instead rushed to the Jeep and barreled toward home. She didn’t pause long enough to snap her seat belt. The SUV fishtailed on the slick roads, and she barely noticed. All she wanted was to see her son’s face.

When she reached the lighthouse, Kade’s truck wasn’t there, and her slow burn, ignited by his failure to contact her, received a dose of gasoline. Soon she was flaming brighter than the Fresnel lens in the lighthouse tower. How dare he not call? And then to take his time about getting home when he needed to explain things to her as soon as possible. She tried his cell phone but got dumped into voice mail.

She paced the floor. It had been a long time since she’d let her red-haired temper out of its cage. When she finally heard the rumble of Kade’s truck outside, she sprang toward the door. In the deepest part of her heart, she knew she was overreacting, but by then she’d lost her hold on the tail of the tiger.

Davy came through the door first with Samson bounding after. “Mom, I was almost grabbed by this big guy! Sam saved me, didn’t you, boy?” He skidded to his knees and threw his arms around his happy dog.

Kade came in right behind the exuberant twosome. He carried two bags of groceries. His gaze locked with Bree’s and she let her anger show in her tight mouth and a glare that should have fried him on the spot.

“Davy, go get cleaned up and I’ll fix dinner,” Bree said, her voice level.

“Mom, don’t call me Davy!” He got up and ran up the stairs with Samson on his heels.

Kade walked past her to the kitchen and she followed. “Kade, how could you let someone else tell me what happened?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea how I felt when Hilary told me about it in the coffee shop? The coffee shop? I had no clue. You should have called me.”

He put the bags on the counter. “After the day you’d had, I thought you should hear this in person when you could see he was fine.”

Her anger struggled to survive the revelation. “I’m his mother! You should have called me.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t you want to hear what actually happened instead of reaming me out? Dave is fine. Samson was there.”

Her knees went weak as she thought of what could have happened. She would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. The steady thump of his heart under her ear calmed her until she remembered his decision not to call her. She pulled away.

He dropped his hands. “I heard Florence died today. I’m sorry, hon.”

The lump in her throat grew. First Florence, now this threat to Davy. “Tell me what happened.”

“Naomi heard Samson barking. She ran out and saw a guy with Dave over his shoulder making for the gate. The dog barred his way. When he heard Naomi scream, he dropped Dave and bolted.” He turned toward the grocery bags and drew out a package. “This is for our hero. He saved our boy.”

My
boy. The words trembled on her tongue, but she knew if she uttered them, things might change forever. With a supreme act of will, she managed to stuff them down where they’d come from, a dark place she hadn’t realized existed. She’d thought of Kade as Davy’s father for so long now, she’d forgotten there had once been another man. With that fact rising to the top of her memory, she found Rob’s face floating in her vision.

“Say something,” Kade said. “He’s fine. Mason has his guys watching. There will be a deputy coming by every few hours.”

“That’s not enough,” she said automatically.

“No, it’s not.” He squatted in front of her and lifted one of her hands to cover it in his. “I’m not going to let anything happen to our son.”

She let him console her and lay out the promises, but she began to realize her past wasn’t a riverbed washed clean. Ripples and eddies etched tracks in the ground that she found herself following subconsciously, even though she wanted to put the past away and only take it out when she was ready.

Rob really was a ghost, and his memory was going to sweep away the pleasant life she’d created for them here.

Davy was subdued through supper. He probably sensed the tension between his parents. Bree stood to clear away the dishes when the doorbell sounded the opening line of “Hound Dog.” Samson raised his head and woofed.

“I’ll get it,” Kade said. He hurried to the front door.

Bree heard the murmur of a woman’s agitated voice. She took Davy’s hand and went to the living room. Sara Westola followed Kade into the room. Gray streaked her blonde hair, and her skin was tired and sallow. She was about sixty.

“Please, Bree, you’ve got to find Pia,” Sara said. “She was supposed to come for lunch today like she does every Monday. She was going to make me fish soup and promised to be there by eleven, but she never showed up. She isn’t answering her cell phone and I got worried. I went to her house and let myself in with my key. There’s no sign of her, but her car is in the garage, and her skis are gone. I’m afraid she’s had an accident out skiing in those woods behind her house. Her cell phone was on the kitchen counter too.”

“Calm down, Sara,” Bree said. “Maybe a friend stopped over.” She didn’t know Pia well. She was in her midtwenties and was the Children’s Protective Services employee who had done the home study required for Bree and Kade to become foster parents. It wasn’t unusual to see her scooting around town with her Mini Cooper crammed with children.

“Could we get Samson to look for her?” Sara asked, wringing her hands. “This isn’t like Pia.”

Bree bit her lip. “We’ve had a bit of an upheaval this afternoon, and I hate to leave. Someone tried to take my son.”

Sara’s gaze went to Davy. “Oh no! Did you catch the guy?”

Maybe she could get Naomi to go on the search. “Not yet. Listen, let me see if I can get some members of my team to find her.” She grabbed the phone and made a few calls. Naomi didn’t answer, and Bree’s other three searchers were either out of town or tied up.

Kade interpreted the way she slowly set the phone down. He stepped to her side and slipped his arm around her. “Go ahead, babe. You know I’ll take good care of him.”

She stubbornly held on to her anger, even though she knew he’d give his life for her son. “I don’t want to leave.”

He shrugged. “Do what you do best. I’ll lock up the house. He won’t be alone for a second.”

She knew she needed to go. Pia could be in trouble, and there was no one else. “Call me if anything happens, anything at all.”

“I will.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Be careful.”

She had yet to tell him what the doctor said. Turning to Sara, she called, “It’s all set. My husband will keep an eye on our boy.” Bree snapped her fingers at Samson. “Let me get my dog ready.”

She went to a closet and pulled out a backpack and a vest. Samson began to prance around the living room with his tail held high. He crouched and barked, then ran to Bree. She slipped the vest over his head. “Sara, did you think to bring an article of clothing that belongs to Pia?”

Sara nodded. “I put it in a paper bag, is that okay?”

“Perfect. Did you leave it in the car?”

“Yes, I’ll go get it.” The older woman hurried toward the door.

Bree slipped into her coat, grabbed her backpack, then clipped a leash to Samson’s collar. He strained eagerly toward the door and practically dragged her onto the porch. She frowned at the quickly falling darkness. It would be pitch black by the time they got back to the woods. The dog leaped into the backseat as soon as she opened the door.

Sara handed the bag to Bree. “I got socks from the laundry basket.”

“I think we should start at Pia’s house, since it looks like she went out on her skis,” Bree said. “Shall we ride together?”

“I’d better take my car separately in case she’s hurt and I need to stay at the hospital with her,” Sara said. She hopped into her Lexus.

Bree accelerated the Jeep down the driveway after her. Several men were carving ice sculptures in the park she passed. One was the spitting image of Samson. “Hey, boy, there you are,” she told him. He woofed, then laid his head on her shoulder.

The thermometer read five degrees, even colder with the wind chill. They reached Pia’s cottage at the edge of the Ottawa National Forest. The one-bedroom home was white with green shutters and sat back off the road. Sara pulled into the driveway and parked the car. The red Jeep rolled to a stop behind it. It was nearly dark.

Sara clambered out and ran to the house while Bree got Samson ready.

Sara unlocked Pia’s door and went in.

Bree got out her ready pack and shouldered it, though she hoped Sara would return with the news that Pia was inside. When she approached the porch, the older woman reappeared.

“No one there,” Sara said, her mouth turned down. “Let’s check the back.”

The women went around to the backyard. Bree saw the ski tracks sloping off toward the forest. Two sets.

“Could she have come back?”

“There aren’t any skis in the garage,” Sara said.

“Then maybe someone went with her.”

Bree had the paper bag clutched in her hand. She knelt beside the dog and opened the bag. The dog thrust his nose into the bag and whimpered. His tail wagged in a frantic wave.

“Search, Samson!” She let go of her dog, and Samson leaped away through the snow.

His nose high, he crisscrossed the backyard. “What’s he doing?” Sara asked.

Bree kept her gaze on her dog. “People give off skin rafts, microscopic particles of skin. They are unique to the individual. Samson is an air-search dog, so he’s trying to pick up Pia’s scent. Once he homes in on it, he can follow it like we would a whiff of perfume.” She began to smile. “He’s got it!” She put on her snowshoes, flipped on her flashlight, and followed Samson as he waded through the snowdrifts into the woods.

“I’ll wait here,” Sara called after her.

The sting of the cold wind on her face and the warm stretch of her muscles would have been enjoyable at another time, but the inner urgency to find Pia drove her on in a race that left no time for pleasure. The snow pack was heavy and she moved quickly on her snowshoes.

Bree reached the ski path through the woods, and the gloom deepened. The bobbing beam of light was easy to follow. Bare trees seemed to reach their limbs for her.

“It’s creepy out here,” she told Samson, just to break the silence.

“I’d forgotten how scary the forest can be at night.” At least she had the dog with her.

Bree paused to catch her breath. Out here in the dark, she could almost believe what Davy said about a windigo. She glanced around the black forest, and her laugh held an edge of unease.

She and Samson moved farther along the ski path. They reached the top of a rise and started down. Samson bolted away from her, and his howl echoed back. Bree caught her breath. “Oh no,” she whispered when the howl came again.

She ran after the dog. The moon shone through the bare tree limbs and illuminated her path. At the bottom of the hill, she stopped and began to tremble. A body lay crumpled on the ground, and the bright splash of blood on the snow made her retch. Pia’s sightless eyes stared up into the tree above her head.

Bree didn’t have to touch the woman’s cold body to know Pia’s spirit had flown to somewhere else.

6

IT NEVER GOT EASIER TO BE ON THE FRONT LINES OF tragedy. Bree rubbed her stinging eyes and tried to comfort Samson, who lay panting at her feet. Finding a dead body was hard on him too. He’d vomited, then cried for several minutes. Bree expected Mason soon. After he told Sara the news. It appeared to Bree as though Pia had fallen onto a jagged branch that impaled her.