Justice at Dawn

by Valerie Massey Goree

  Sadie set a plate in front of Hannah. The cake was loaded with whipped cream. “Why did you give her so much, Barbara?”

  “I know she likes it. Not me. Can’t stand the stuff with cake.” She jutted her chin toward the slice of plain cake on her plate.

  “This cream is delicious. I’ve never seen the brand you used before.” Sadie forked a glob into her mouth before dragging a dining chair closer to the group.

  The cake tasted even better than it looked. KC asked for seconds and ignored Cooper’s cocked eyebrow.

  A comment Barbara made earlier spurred another line of inquiry. KC pointed her fork at Sadie. “Where did you and Barbara meet?”

  “In LA. Before Hannah’s father, um, passed away.” Sadie’s words rushed out as if they burned her throat.

  Spluttering and choking on a piece of cake, Barbara covered her mouth. After swallowing she said, “Right. But I have a question for you, Cooper. Why the rifle? Are you expecting trouble?”

  “Not at all. Just part of the training.” He shifted his weight, ready to rise.

  Well, Barbara’s quick change of subject didn’t encourage any follow-up. Was her history with Sadie a problem? KC picked up the rifle. She had many areas of concern to discuss with Cooper and was curious to see if he’d noticed the same inconsistencies.

  With Zach resting on her shoulder, Barbara rose. “I’m glad you stopped by. Where are you heading next?”

  Cooper approached Sadie. “Back to San Diego. Are you sure there’s nothing else you want—?”

  A loud thud echoed from the bedroom.

  Was there someone else in the cabin?

  26

  All eyes focused on the bedroom door.

  Cooper reached for his handgun at the same time KC raised the rifle.

  Barbara backed up toward the bedroom, Zach balanced on her hip. “Put those things away. I’ll see what made the noise.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cooper noticed Hannah crawl to Sadie and cling to her legs.

  “Who else is in the cabin?” he asked, inching his way forward.

  “I’ll take a peek.” Barbara opened the door. “But I know we’re the only people here.”

  No way would he allow her to enter the room alone. Cooper strode in behind her. The beds appeared as he’d seen them earlier, except for Hannah’s jacket crumpled on the lower bunk.

  However, the small window in the bathroom was open and the car seat now lay on the floor beneath it.

  “What was Hannah doing in here?” Barbara tsked and picked up the car seat. “That child is a minx. I told her not to open any windows. You’d think with her dislike of bugs that she’d at least follow that instruction.”

  Cooper scanned the room, noted there was no screen on the window and then looked out. About a four-foot drop. Did Hannah open the window in an effort to escape or was she merely disobeying Barbara?

  “Do you want me to close the window?” He tucked his pistol into his waistband.

  Heading toward the bedroom, Barbara nodded. “Yes, please. Let’s return to the others.”

  He had no reason to object. Cooper met KC’s gaze as he shut the bedroom door. “The wind must have knocked the car seat off the hamper.”

  KC lowered the rifle, shoulders visibly sagging. Other than ask a few questions, she’d been unusually quiet. Was she still smarting over his unkind words? Cooper ran a finger down his scar. He’d better remedy the situation as soon as they left the cabin.

  Hannah sat at the table next to Sadie. They looked at each other and then at Cooper. He studied their faces. No signs of concern or angst. Except the child’s downcast mouth. Pouting or what?

  “Last chance to give Bowen a special message.” He retrieved his pack and slung it over his shoulder.

  In a blink, Barbara was at his side, holding Zach in both arms.

  Still stroking Hannah’s hair, Sadie stood. “Tell him we love him, and I’ll call as soon as I can. That’s all.”

  Barbara pushed open the front door. “Thanks for visiting. Safe trip home.”

  The door shut with a bang behind them.

  Cooper walked deliberately down the middle of the road, past their picnic spot, and only when he was sure they couldn’t be seen from the cabin, he stopped.

  “Well, rookie, we have a lot to discuss, but first, I want to apologize again for my response to your question on forgiveness, and for the insensitive way I told you about your mother. I was a cad, and you have every right to throw a ton of books at me. Or punch me out. Your choice.”

  A glimmer of a smile played on her lips for a second. “I won’t do either, although…” This time the smile lingered. “Throwing something at you does sound like a good idea. But I’ll keep that pleasure for another time. I’d rather talk about what went on in the cabin.”

  “All right. Let’s head back to the treehouse. I want to see if I can make another call.” He checked his watch. Three thirty. Charlotte should have news of Bowen’s surgery.

  “But your knee. I’ll go up this time.”

  What a fine mess. Not quite incapacitated, but he couldn’t climb the ladder. “OK. Walk with me so we can chat.” He wasn’t about to have her follow him to see him favor his right leg.

  “Are we going back to San Diego right away?”

  “No. I told Barbara we were, but I promised Bowen we’d make sure Sadie made it to LA. And that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Oh, right. I remember. Will we spend the night in the same campground?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Great. I’d like to shower and change clothes.”

  “Me, too. And stop by the convenience store again, see if they have a brace. I don’t want to risk damaging my knee further.” Twinges of pain increased with each step.

  “I can find a stout stick for you to use as a cane. Would that help?”

  As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge his weakness, a cane would certainly aid his walking. “Sure. I’ll rest over here.” He dropped to the ground, huffing. What was wrong with him? More than pain sapped his energy. While he waited, he returned his handgun to his ankle holster.

  KC tromped through the brush and returned with a stick about four and a half feet long.

  Once he stripped off the scraggly side twigs, it was perfect. He heaved himself up, adjusted his pack, and set off again. “In the morning, well before nine, we’ll park west of Barbara’s driveway. That way, we’ll see Sadie when she leaves.”

  “Good plan. Is the cane helping?”

  “Yes.” He accomplished a rhythmical gait. “Give me a rundown of your observations.”

  She walked beside him. “I noticed many things, but I’m not sure if they’re problems or not. Nothing sinister jumped out.”

  “We’ll compare notes.”

  “OK, first, Barbara monopolized the conversation.”

  “Yes. Why, do you think?”

  “She has an overbearing personality, or she didn’t want Sadie to talk.”

  “It is her cabin, and we were her guests.”

  “But we were there to see Sadie.” KC covered a yawn.

  “Good point. What else?”

  “Hannah didn’t want to go to the bedroom. She expressed that concern to her mother.”

  “I have no ready answer to that. Unless Barbara sent Hannah there as a punishment.”

  KC pursed her lips. “That’s not a pleasant thought. But the thing that bugs me the most is Barbara’s insistence on holding Zach. Do you realize she never let Sadie near the baby?”

  No, he had not noticed. Again, KC’s observations complemented his. “Why does that concern you? Is Barbara just being a good friend by giving Sadie a break?”

  “I’d buy that theory if she seemed interested in the baby, talked to him, played with him. One time she tickled his tummy when he was on her lap. But other than that, she acted like he was a necessary burden.”

  Cooper processed her comments. He’d trained female rookies before, but KC often surprised him with her insight.
“What do you mean?”

  “Oh, come on, Cooper. Haven’t you ever watched a woman with a baby? She can’t help but gaze into his face, plant kisses on his nose, cheeks. Wrap his little hand around her index finger. Coo and smile.”

  Her words gut-punched him. He sucked in a breath. Sure, he’d seen mothers lavish tender loving care on their infants. But since his wife and child died, he avoided being in the vicinity of any mother and baby. Now was not the time to remind KC of his sad past. He massaged his neck muscles. “Did you notice anything else?”

  “Just one thing, but it’s understandable. Hannah’s attitude. She appeared to be sulking, angry.”

  “Her delayed trip to the princess park. Yeah, I can see why she’d be upset, especially since she was forced to stay in a cabin in close proximity to lots of bugs.” He chuckled. “Poor kid. Anything else?”

  She plucked a leaf off a shrub beside the track. “Nope. What did I miss?”

  “One important nugget. About Hannah’s pictures.”

  Shredding the leaf, KC frowned. “The pages from her coloring book?” She turned toward him. “Oh, yes. Sadie had to stop the car every time Hannah threw up, and she tossed out a page from her book at the same time. That would explain why the pages didn’t blow away and remained by the side of the road.”

  “Next question. Why? To show her annoyance or to leave a clue?”

  Covering another yawn, KC shrugged. “I don’t know. Wow, I’m tired. Now, tell me what you noticed.”

  “Some of the same points you did. But I have to admit, you garnered much more than I did, especially about Barbara and the baby.”

  “What kinds of things did you observe?”

  “I concentrate on body language, tone of voice. Subtle exchanges between people.”

  “And?”

  Cooper rolled his shoulders. How much farther? “Barbara came across as the boss. In charge, not willing to put up with nonsense. Sadie appeared calm, most of the time. I didn’t detect any signs of worry or stress. I did gather that Hannah was not pleased with the situation. But I can understand why.”

  “Good. We concur.”

  Forty minutes after leaving the cabin, they approached the treehouse.

  KC stopped and asked, “Who should I call? Gabe, Charlotte, Caleb?”

  Cooper rested against a trunk and blew out a breath. Why was he so tired? “Charlotte to ask about Bowen. Then call Gabe, and he can pass on information to Caleb. Tell him we found Sadie and will hang around until she leaves for LA tomorrow.”

  She handed him the rifle and slogged through the brush. Hands on her hips, she circled the tall tree. Striding back to him, she said, “The ladder’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, no rope in sight.”

  “That’s strange. Either someone’s in there and pulled up the ladder, or he has a way of raising it from the ground. Did you see anything to suggest a pulley system?”

  “Nope. I looked all over.”

  Cooper stroked his jaw. “I should have asked Barbara about the treehouse, but it may not even be on her property. Oh, well. No phone call yet.”

  “We also should have checked on the small footprints we noticed along the track. See if Barbara had any idea to whom they belonged. They couldn’t have been Hannah’s. I took note of her shoe size.”

  “True. My only excuse is I was sidetracked by my knee and finding the shotgun.” He blinked to clear his vision. “And my brain is fuzzy. But once we get to the truck, we can return to the café and make some calls. Or maybe take a nap first. Are you tired?”

  She yawned. “Yup. Must be our early morning catching up with us.”

  They plodded onward until KC stumbled over an outcropping of small rocks. She couldn’t maintain her balance and landed in the brush beside the track.

  Just as Cooper turned to help her up, he heard an unmistakable rattle. “Don’t move.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I hate snakes.”

  A rattler raised his head just ten inches from her thigh.

  “I’ve got this.” He lifted his heavy cane and slowly stepped sideways. “When I thump the ground behind the snake, he should switch his attention to the stick. Then you move out of the way. Ready?”

  Mouth in a grim line, she whispered, “Why not hit the snake instead?”

  “He’s too close. He’ll strike out at your leg. Creating a massive vibration behind him will divert his attention.”

  “All right.”

  One more step then he struck the ground. The rattler swung his head, KC rolled away.

  Cooper sighed. His relief was short-lived. The snake slithered toward him. He swiveled out of the way. Shards of pain pierced his knee. Grasping the throbbing joint, he sank to the road.

  The rattler passed within inches of his leg as it disappeared into the brush.

  “KC, KC, are you…” His voice petered out as darkness overcame him.

  27

  “Cooper. Wake up. Did the snake bite you?” KC knelt beside him and shook his shoulder.

  He moaned, blinked. “What…no. It’s my knee.” He tried to turn onto his back, but the pack hindered his movement

  “No snake bite?”

  “Uh-uh. I twisted my knee.”

  She chewed her lip. A bum joint would be easier to cope with than a rattler bite. “Should I go back to the cabin and ask for help?”

  No answer. Had he lost consciousness again? She set down the rifle then lowered her head to peer into his face.

  “I’m awake.” His smile morphed into a grimace. “We’re closer to the truck. Help me up.”

  Warm relief wafted over her. “I’ll fetch your cane.” And keep watch for any more snakes. She shuddered. The slimy-looking things gave her nightmares.

  Cooper sat, slipped off his pack, and then took the stout stick from her. “I can’t put any weight on my right leg. You’re gonna have to hoist me up.”

  “OK. I’ll grab you under the arms—”

  “No. Better idea. I’ll drag myself to that tree and use it as well as the cane.”

  Inch by inch, he maneuvered toward the trunk.

  He rested beside the gnarled wood and took a couple of deep breaths. “These side branches will help.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Stay close in case I need you.”

  Another time, another place, his words would have delighted her. Nothing she’d like more than to be close to him, long-term. But not now, knowing ovarian cancer ran in her family. The odds of her having a relapse increased day by day. Scientific research and personal experience proved her point. Her high school pal died just last year, months after her mother passed away. Both from that insidious disease. No way could she expect any man to take on such an unknown future. KC shut her eyes tight. Don’t think about the cancer returning. She gritted her teeth ready to help Cooper. No more selfish thoughts. He was hurt and vulnerable.

  He grunted as he used the cane and trunk branches to help himself stand. Sweat popped out on his brow. His lips disappeared as he tried to hide the pain-filled expression.

  KC bent and propped his left arm over her shoulder then straightened.

  He stood upright and balanced on one leg with the aid of the cane. “Thanks. I need to rest a sec.” He huffed in and out. “With all the adrenaline pumping through my blood, you’d think I’d be ready to run a marathon.”

  “Run?”

  “You know what I mean. But I’m pooped.”

  She picked up the rifle. “I’ll carry your backpack. No arguing.”

  Without a word, he flicked a hand in her direction. The action said a lot about his physical state.

  “Are you sure you want to head to the truck?”

  “Yeah. You can drive us to Lake Elsinore. Find an emergency clinic.” He draped his left arm across her shoulders again. “Let’s go.”

  The trek was harder than KC anticipated. Although the cane bore some of Cooper’s weight, he leaned on her every time he took a step with his left leg. Her sho
ulders ached, but no way would she let him know. No telling the pain he endured. It had to be severe for him to completely rely on her physically. Since his lecture to her in the café regarding their professional relationship, she’d avoided close proximity as much as possible. But now…well, she couldn’t be any closer to him if she tried. She had never been able to identify the aftershave he used, but a hint of the spicy aroma lingered about his person. It couldn’t be cologne—he didn’t seem the type of guy who’d use the stuff.

  “Got…to…rest.”

  His disjointed words froze her thoughts. She halted near an isolated tree stump. “Sit here. Do you want a drink? We still have water.”

  He dropped to the improvised seat and nodded. “I don’t feel right.”

  After opening two bottles, KC handed him one, then swallowed half of hers. “You’re injured, and tired, and—”

  “Uh-uh.” He drained his bottle. “It’s more than that.” Swiping sweat from his face, he said, “I’m woozy, in pain, but sleepy.”

  “I can understand exhausted. That’s how I feel. After all, I’ve been dragging my partner around the woods for half a mile or more.” She grinned, but he was not amused.

  “Ha. I’d do the same for you.”

  No sign of snakes, good. KC sat at the base of the tree and hugged her knees. “I know, Cooper. Just teasing.”

  His labored breathing attested to his weakened condition. They needed to rest for a while longer.

  She scanned their surroundings. A beautiful setting, notwithstanding their predicament. Cool even at—she checked her watch—five o’clock. She rubbed her arms, thankful she’d donned a long-sleeved shirt. Hints of moist, rotting undergrowth hit her nose. “We need to move on, Mr. Callahan. Get you to a clinic.” She stood and handed him the cane.

  He pursed his lips, held out his right leg, and heaved himself up. “The truck should be close. I recognize that clump of shrubs.” He jutted his chin to the side. “May I have the pleasure of your shoulder, ma’am?”

  She resumed her position beside him with her arm around his midsection. “Onward we go.” At least his sense of humor had returned for a moment. KC ignored his occasional grunt, hoping he was right about the truck. Not a moment too soon she spotted the dark hood protruding from the bushes. “There it is.” Tight, achy shoulders. Back muscle spasms. A crick in her neck. And a tiredness like she’d never experienced before. Was there a word stronger than exhausted?