Indelible (26 page)

Taking the call in the Bronco with Tia riding beside him, Jonah eased over to the side of the road since any swerving rolled her stomach. “Four new complaints?”

“A regular spree,” Officer Moser said over the phone. “All concentrated in the Old Town area.”

“What was taken?”

Moser spoke precisely. “Besides Forney’s boots, one woolen blanket from a car. One smoked pheasant and towel.”

“A towel?”

“Hand towel,” Moser said. “You take a hot, greasy bird from a smoke hut, you want some protection for your hands.”

“Right.”

“Diane Noble said she had a dozen new bar rags outside the smoker. Someone opened the package, took one.”

“A thoughtful thief. Sounds like a local. What else?”

“You ready for this?”

He heard the grin in Moser’s voice. “Lay it on me.”

“Underwear.”

“What?”

“Three pairs from a dryer at the Laundromat. Might be a prank, but Wallace says he washed seven briefs, only got four at the end.”

Jonah covered the speaker and mouthed, “Stolen underwear” to Tia. Her distended nostril reflected his feelings on that one. “Was Wallace there the whole time?”

“No,” Moser said. “Stepped next door to talk fishing at the gas station while his clothes finished up.”

He nodded. “We’ve got a vagrant.”

“Sounds like.”

Someone cold and hungry who liked clean clothes. “Check around. See who’s been laid off or kicked out, who might hang around town hoping for reconciliation.”

“All right.”

He almost hung up, then said, “Oh, Moser. What’s the fourth thing?”

“Wendy Gershwin’s bird-watching binoculars.”

Such I created all the ethereal Powers
And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail’d;
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.

F
rom a distance through magnifying lenses, he watched him—the guardian. On his back, the child. Sweet, tender care piercing. Shaking, he watched them, man and child, his heart punching like a fist in his chest. Rage snapped like a wolf at his heels with equal parts hunger and fury.

Dropping to his knees, he groaned, tortured by this goodness. Rage engulfing. Why? He gripped himself, stifling the cry that ripped through him.

His mission had been small. But this one, nothing he did was small. No inconsequential breath drawn. Better not to have seen, never to have seen. To wonder, even suspect this righteousness, but not
know
. He dropped the binoculars and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. Then like a junkie he took up the lenses again.

Shivering, he watched them, his unacclimated flesh, his inadequate garb, but, most of all, the sight of this celestial being chilling the marrow in his bones.

Sixteen

P
roud of the little guy, Trevor tucked Cody into the SUV, but prevented Natalie from climbing in just yet. Easing her away from the open door, he enclosed her in his arms. “Better?”

She glanced up from just below his chin to somewhere around his mouth. “I guess we’ll see tonight.”

“You did great.” Better than he’d expected, pulling her weight on this adventure for Cody’s sake.

She leaned back against the car. “I hope it was the right thing. For Cody, I mean.”

“Do you doubt it?” When he’d been such a trooper?

“It’s complicated with kids.”

“It’s complicated.” He rubbed her shoulder.

“I remember—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

He looked through the window at Cody, kicking his little boots. “He’s been here now with people who care and nothing bad happening. A good experience to counter the bad.”

“Or an instant replay.”

He tipped her chin up, but she didn’t look. “That would require a wild animal attack.”

“Or the memory of one.”

“Yes, he remembered. But nothing happened. That was the point.”

She nodded. “Okay. But the cougar’s not always in my dreams. Fear takes other forms, and there are lots of scary things.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Ugly, evil faces. And crowds.”

Things that overwhelmed her. “He doesn’t have a truck-load of baggage yet. I’m guessing his fears are pretty specific.”

“But we don’t know. No one understood the impact all that testing had until I almost shut down. I was so cute and amazing, but inside—”

“Nattie.” He cradled her face. There was only one other car in the lot and they’d seen no one on the trail, but he suddenly felt watched again. “Let’s go home and talk, okay?”

Again the pucker formed between her brows. “I’m not saying this was wrong. I’m just … afraid to make it worse.”

He motioned her into the car, glancing around as he walked to his side. It was already twilight, the temperature dropping accordingly. “All I know”—he slid into his seat—“is that facing things is always better. The more you bury it, the more it eats you.”

She pulled the seat belt over and buckled. “Did that help you get over Ellis?” She flicked her gaze up to his, then away.

“I’ll never get over Ellis.” A fallen leaf had stuck in his windshield wiper. “But I’m trying to get over not being there.”

“By being there for Cody?”

He stared at the reddish yellow leaf, the brittle veins and capillaries. “A little, maybe.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you.”

He started the car. “I know you have more to say. But let’s get back.” He couldn’t remember if that old car had been there when they arrived, and if not, they should have seen someone on the trail. Or the occupants had ignored the instructions and gone off-trail.

Looking over her shoulder, she whispered, “He’s asleep.”

Trevor glanced in the rearview mirror. “That’s normal.” Stress and anxiety exhausted. Children instinctually gave in.

He pulled out of the lot, his turn signal flashing and clicking. “You were going to tell me something.”

She flicked one short fingernail with another. “I remember being so overwhelmed and having no way to explain it. People kept doing what they thought would help, and I tried and tried and did what they asked and wanted to be happy, but inside I was screaming. I’m afraid inside Cody are screams we can’t even imagine.”

That hurt to think about. “I hear you, Nattie. We won’t push it.”

“I know you’re right about facing things. He’s just too little to resist if he has to.”

He reached over and took her hand. “You’re wise.”

She blinked back tears. “Sometimes love is healing enough.”

Something inside broke loose, dissolving in a well of emotion he couldn’t spoil with words. He’d thought he was rescuing her, when he’d been the one on the precipice.

After spending the day pleading for essential law-enforcement personnel and equipment, Jonah headed home with the mistaken anticipation of peace. Surrounded by woods with his own tributary running through, his cabin wasn’t the solitary haven it used to be, but he’d take it.

The coydogs were fractious, probably from being cooped up. He let them out to roam, Scout especially keen on running free, even if Enola hung closer to the house. The pup might one day heed the call of the wild, but Enola had made her choice.

They were the least of his concerns. It appeared Sarge had taken a downturn. Pain tightened his voice like a bark, spit forming a bead at the corner of his mouth as he yelled at his nurse. For a straight-backed military man, the scoliosis seemed especially cruel, robbing him of what proud bearing he might have managed. At least the VA insurance still paid for Lauren, bless her sainted heart.

Her straight brown hair draped Sarge’s shoulder as she gently manipulated the spine from that joint to his hip, trying to relax muscles and relieve constricted nerves. Her gray-green eyes slipped from her patient to the doorway where he watched. Her beauty still struck him, though he hadn’t pursued her as Tia once thought. That was all Jay.

Her grave expression told him more than words, when she joined him in the hall. “He can’t manage the walker any longer, Jonah. The bone deterioration of his lower lumbar is severe, and, I’m sorry, but there are signs of paralysis.”

“We use the wheelchair about half the time as it is.” He didn’t ask about surgery. They turned him down a year ago as too far gone. “What about pain?”

“The points of impingement are excruciating.”

“I can see it in his face. And he snaps.”

“I’d snap too.” She looked over her shoulder. “If we increase his meds, he’ll be confined to the bed.”

Jonah sighed. “His call, I guess.”

“I’m a nurse, Jonah. A doctor might—”

“You think he’d give you up for any doctor?”

She slipped the hair behind her ear. While Sarge would never admit it, he was smitten. Jonah raised his face at movement in his kitchen. Tia must be home.

But it wasn’t Tia. As he and Lauren entered the main room, Jay lowered his bottled O’Doul’s and took them in, his posture slightly combative. “You cooking?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what. Tia’s bringing home whatever looks good to her.”

Jay’s gaze slid to Lauren and narrowed, one brow crooking. The silent bob of his chin drew hers in return. He had to have seen her car, known she was here when he walked in. Neither spoke as she gathered her things.

She looked up. “I’ll talk to a doctor about any treatment that might control pain without incapacitating Sarge. Maybe there’s a trial.” She started for the door.

“Thanks, Lauren.”

Jay said nothing as the door closed behind her. He held out a second O’Doul’s. Jonah didn’t like the stuff, but took it. Jay had been working his version of the program since his teens with sporadic success. Saving Jonah’s life had been pivotal for them both.

“Sarge having a bad time?” He seemed antsy.

“Yeah.” Jonah cleared his throat. “What’s up?”

He said, “I won the contract for the Snyder house.” But Jonah doubted that was it; more likely seeing Lauren or the same agitation he’d felt for a while.

“When do you start?”

“We’re waiting for knotty pine. Might take a while since it’s scarce.”

“Have to grow some?”

Jay pulled a smile. “Once that happens, I’ll need crew.”

“I guess so.”

“Interested?”

He blew his breath through his lips. “Council shot down my new positions in order to pad projects that will ‘enhance Redford’s image.’ ” He jammed his fingers into his hair. “Like safe streets won’t?”

“Safe isn’t tangible.”

“Yeah. Well, we were down an officer before annexing Pine Crest. Once the Kicking Horse resort opens, it won’t take another meth explosion to compromise effectiveness. I can’t keep this town safe without the people and equipment to do it.” He spread his hands. “Does anyone get that?”

“Could use a foreman I can trust.”

Jonah tucked his chin. “Don’t hit me while I’m down. Besides, I’m nowhere close to qualified.” What skills he had, Jay taught him when neither believed he’d stay chief. But the town still wanted him after the near-fatal bender that followed his father’s suicide. They continuously approved his reappointment, and he hadn’t said no yet. Some days it felt like he’d traded one whipping boy position for another. But he knew where he belonged. “Thanks, but I’ll keep my job.”