SHIVER (19 page)

She hadn’t liked leaving Aidan at Earl’s place by himself. The rundown cabin was a hellhole. Earl had lived like an animal, not caring for the civilized things in life. No utilities, no mail, no modern day conveniences.

Aidan had grown up that way. He knew what he was in for, and she shouldn’t worry about him. The best thing would be for him to do what he came here for. Clean up Earl’s sorry life and then clear out.

The thought made her sad and the walls on her bowl wobbled. She released the thinning clay, rewetted her hands, and lightly placed one hand on the inside, the other on the outside and slowly coaxed it back on center. The bowl spun around and around, like her thoughts.

What if she told Aidan about Fox? He might decide to stay?

Oh hell, what was she thinking?

She didn’t want Aidan a part of Fox’s life. She didn’t want the evil kind of influence she knew lived inside of him to touch Fox. He’d admitted to killing Earl. But he
had
been forced to in order to save a woman’s life. Wouldn’t she have done the same? Maybe? Hopefully she’d never know.

Raven finished shaping the walls of the bowl and then pressed her trademark swirl in the bottom as the wheel continued to spin. She cleaned up the foot of the piece and then stopped the wheel. Grabbing her wire, she ran it under the bowl, disconnecting it from the bat. Then she lifted the bat off her wheel and set the bowl on the shelf to dry. It was nice. Just the kind of piece to sit on a table with a bounty of fruit, bread, or filled with salad or pasta for a large family.

She loved that her art was useable, had function. Someone would fall in love with this bowl, maybe even hand it down from generation to generation. An heirloom.

Raven secured another bat onto the wheel and then grabbed a ball of clay that she had previously wedged, throwing it onto the center. She went through the motions of centering the clay. Her days were filled with throwing piece after piece. At least her best days were. Then there was the cleaning of the pieces in preparation for bisque firing, glazing and firing again. When she opened the kiln—which always seemed to take forever to cool—it was like Christmas, seeing her babies, colorful and shiny and ready for use. Her life was good. She was able to make a living at what she loved. She loved being a mother to Fox. The kid constantly made her proud and was growing up into a fine young man. Though he did have his moments. But then she’d be worried if he didn’t. No child was perfect and sometimes those imperfections is what set them apart, made them special.

She stopped, releasing her hands from the clay. Aidan wasn’t perfect. Had she set her expectations too high in regards to him? Had she set him up to fail because of the people he came from?

Fox slammed into the studio. “Mom!”

“At the wheel,” she replied.

He turned the corner of a shelving unit, which held other pottery pieces, already fired and waiting to be glazed. He smiled at her, his dimple flashing, causing an ache in her heart. He was a handsome boy, tall for his age. Responsible, fun, outgoing, and adventurous. She loved him with everything that was inside her. A catch caught in her throat and she had to clear it in order to speak. “How was your day?”

“Freaking amazing. Grand asked Janette to go out with him and she cut him off at the knees. It was so cool.”

“What about Grand? Aren’t his feelings hurt?”

“He’ll get over it, but the best part is that the reason Janette said no was because she likes someone else. Guess who?” He bounced on his heels. “She likes me. Me!” He did a touchdown dance. “Can she come over and watch a movie tonight?”

“Uh…” He was too young for girls. Just last year, girls were gross and disgusting. When had that changed? “I don’t like the idea of you and Janette watching a movie together. You’re too young for a—” dare she say date? “—get-together like that.”

“It wouldn’t be just the two of us. There’d be other guys.” He looked at her with those dark beguiling eyes. “What do you say? I’ll do the dishes and sweep too.”

“Uh…” This was new territory. “How many friends, what movie, and how late?”

There, those all sounded like good and responsible questions a loving, concerned mother would need to know.

“I need to make some calls.”

“Get me the info and then I can decide. But chores first. And homework.”

“Yes, Mom.” He turned to head out of the studio but then stopped. “Did you guys make it to Mr. Harte’s cabin okay with my map?”

“Yes, we did, which reminds me. Pull up a stool, Fox. I have some questions for you.”

“Can’t it wait? If I don’t get a hold of Grand before three-thirty he’ll make other plans for tonight.”

“You’re going to invite Grand to this get-together with Janette here? Won’t that be awkward?”

“Naw. Grand’s already got his sights set on Tina.”

She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I still need to know how you knew how to get into Earl’s place. And when we got inside the cabin today, someone had been there. Do you know anything about that?”

He sat on the stool, letting his backpack slide to the dusty floor. “How did you know someone had been there?”

“Whoever they were, they’d gone through the place, tossed it. When you went in to get blankets for Aidan, how did it look?”

He shrugged. “Normal. It wasn’t clean, but then it never was.”

“How many times have you been inside Earl’s place?” Fear sunk into her bones. “Why were you ever there? Did he touch you?”

“What?
No
. Gross, Mom. Mr. Harte wasn’t like that.”

“He was an evil man. One I warned you about, and now I find you’ve been inside his place. What else? And don’t think of lying to me, I’ll know.”

“Jeez. It’s no big deal. You always taught me to make up my mind about people and not listen to other people’s opinions. So one day, I came across Mr. Harte when I was exercising the dogs. He wasn’t that bad. He invited me back to visit when I wanted to. I dropped in every now and then…just to—you know—check up on him. He didn’t have anyone who cared about him.”

“Didn’t you wonder why?”

“He told me why. He’d said that he was a bully and pushed his son, hoping he would push back. I guess Aidan never pushed back.”

Yeah, he did and that push had killed Earl Harte. “Interesting parenting idea.”

“You kinda got to see where he came from to understand his thinking. I’m not saying it wasn’t whacked. He was nuts on a lot of things, but he treated me fair. I couldn’t judge him on anything else. Right?”

How did she argue against her own teachings? She’d brought up her son to do exactly what he’d done. She wanted him opened-minded, fair in his thinking, able to make his own judgments and not rely on the opinions of others. But why had Earl Harte treated her son decent? Had he finally felt guilt for killing Fox senior that this had been his way of making it up? Had he mellowed in his old age? He hadn’t been that old. Maybe fifty-five, sixty. But the man had been so pickled in his thinking that there couldn’t have been any mellowing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” That was what bothered her the most. “Why keep it a secret?”

“Mr. Harte asked me to. He liked it when I dropped by, and he was afraid you would forbid me from doing it.”

He was right. If she had known… There was no point in going down that road. It wouldn’t help the hurt she felt now that Fox had kept secrets from her.

He gave her the look that melted her heart. “I’m sorry, Mom, I hated keeping it from you.”

“Then why did you?”

“Well…I liked Mr. Harte. I know what everyone has always said about him. And I know that you think he killed Grandpa—”

“He
did
kill Grandpa.”

“I don’t want to get into that.”

“How do we not get into it when the man killed
my
dad? And now I find out that my own son was friends with him?”

He tightened his lips and Raven knew she had shut him up. Fox was real good about talking with her until she got angry and then he buttoned up. She bit back her anger and tried again. “What did Earl say about my father?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I need to know, Fox.”

Fox looked off to the side. Raven turned off her wheel. She was too keyed up to make anything worth keeping. She threw a piece of plastic over the clay. It would wait until later.

“He claimed that he never meant for Grandpa to die. That it had been an accident.”

It was her turn to bite her lips. Because she knew, without a doubt, Earl had planned to set off those charges when her father was panning in the riverbed. It had been deliberate. It had been premeditated. Murder.

With difficulty she kept a hold of her tongue. If she said anything now, Fox would completely shut down on the subject. Her body shook with the effort it took to keep quiet.

“Is this going to affect my movie night?” Fox asked, his eyes downcast.

She wanted to send him to his room. Lock him up and never let him out of her sight. Look at what had been going on right under her nose! She rubbed her forehead forgetting that her hands where covered in clay slip until the grittiness transferred onto her skin. “Go and make your calls, but we’ll talk about this later, Fox.”

He stood, gaze cast downward. “Yes, Mom.” He left, trailing his backpack behind him.

She picked up a wooden wedge, twisting it between her fingers. And here she had always thought she’d been an observant mother. What else had she missed?

Aidan heaved the mattress back onto the bed. It flopped like a dead fish. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t sleep here, not until he had the place cleaned up. He’d disposed of the dead raven in the stove, but there wasn’t any wood to burn. Since his father hadn’t returned this summer, he hadn’t chopped the cords of wood waiting outside. Aidan was in no condition to be stomping around in the trap-infested yard with a walking boot chopping wood. He looked around at the sad bedroom that used to be his. It had been left pretty much the same. A corkboard full of school accomplishments. Art awards that his dad hadn’t cared a fart for. Amateur drawings of totems that had been the spark for his graphic novels, hockey sticks stood forgotten in the corner along with his skates. Dried stalks of fireweed he’d hung as a remembrance of the first time he and Raven had made love. They were dry and dusty and broken. He couldn’t help but see the comparison.

He rubbed his hands together. It was getting colder. The sun had set and he needed heat.

Raven was right. He wasn’t ready to stay here tonight. But how did he get back? He had the keys to the rental, but his right foot was also in a boot. It wasn’t a cast—he could take it off. He’d done that in order to shower this morning. But driving was different.

He had two choices, stay and suffer through what would was bound to be a miserable, cold night bundled in dirty blankets, or return to the lodge. The lodge won out. Tomorrow he’d return better prepared.

He grabbed the map Fox had drawn from his coat pocket and smoothed it out. The kid was talented. Raven needed to help him develop it. Aidan knew she would encourage him, which was more than he had ever had as a boy.

Using a small flashlight, he locked up the cabin and navigated the tricky path toward his SUV. There was no breeze. The area was devoid of sound, other than his footsteps crunching in the snow and his breathing. Off to the right he caught a flash of light. Two small pinpoints. He came to a full stop, his heart pounding.

A black wolf stood observing him—just outside of Earl’s property—his yellow eyes shining in the moonlight. Aidan swallowed. The wolf was beautiful, dangerous, wild. And he scared the shit out of him. He’d left the guns inside the cabin. The wolf could be on him before he hobbled back to safety. He was midway between the back door of the cabin and the SUV.

Neither of them moved.

Was this Alaska’s version of a standoff? One of them had to make a move. Aidan took a step, the wolf watched. He took another step. Other than the wolf’s eyes following each move he made, the animal didn’t shift. Just watched. It was eerie, unnerving.

And freaking cool.

He began to relax, his heart still beat at an alarming rate, but his shaking had lessened. Somewhat. He reached the SUV and still the wolf stayed. He climbed in—breathing a sigh of relief when he locked himself inside—and started the engine. It coughed, and died. “You got to be kidding.” He couldn’t make the trip back to the cabin with the wolf out there. Chances were the predator wouldn’t spare him a second time. That was asking too much. Staying in the SUV too long and he’d freeze. He cranked over the engine again. It flared to life.