Understory

by Lisa J. Lickel

  Another person stuffed himself into the room.

  “The federal agents with the special task force on human trafficking aren’t kidding, Lily,” Cam said. “This is bigger than you realize.”

  Forbes put his hands on his hips. “Outside. Now.”

  A minute later, Lily paced in the little waiting area at the end of the hall, walking gingerly on her heels, two painful steps one way, two another. “But, here in Barter Valley?” She stared at her reflection in the frame of a generic floral print on the beige wall. “There aren’t enough people to… Someone would notice. We’re…normal, an average-sized town in a conservative community.”

  Cam leaned in the open entryway, arms folded, while Deegan stood at a respectful distance and Stewart maintained vigil outside of Kenny’s room.

  “I know Art,” she said. “He’s just not that clever. I didn’t exactly think that job interview was going to lead…lead…” She turned again and walked. “There’re always idiot tourists who get lost. And last fall there was… Oh…Ray Henderson fished up an ID from the creek right before the close of…she could have been…but the police…” Why wasn’t Cam saying anything?

  She had to admit it felt good to be on her feet despite the horrible situation. But man, this must be what it was like for the Little Mermaid when she got her wished-for feet and walked on land. Like treading on broken glass. That was in the real Hans Christian Anderson version of the fairy tale. Why did the movie people insist on sanitizing everything? Life was brutal. Monsters were all around. People, and kids, died from making bad choices every day because they didn’t know what was real.

  She faced Cam, hurting at the pinched worry in his dark eyes, the grim set of his mouth, and his still carriage. He looked exhausted. “I wondered if he made up the interview,” she said, “but not…something else, like…like... I wasn’t serious, you know. People really do that?” She wanted Cam to tell her no, that it was just made-up stories to sell newspapers, but his serious sympathy told her he’d seen things she hoped she never would. “Can’t you put out some kind of warning?” she asked Forbes.

  “They have to prove the company is running a scam,” Cam said. “Prove they’re phony.”

  “I checked the website. There’s nothing on it. Well, what about a newspaper story?” Lily asked him. “You could do an expose or something.” At his raised brows, she frowned and turned away. “At least tell people to beware of job interview offers.”

  “Unfortunately, the problem—that’s not exactly the word I’d like to use—is prevalent all over,” he said, and swallowed. “Forbes told me the coastal territories are already taken, no room to expand business, so the pimp wars are moving inland. Detroit, Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis…”

  She shivered. “Problem.”

  “People are sick, broken.”

  “Even…a little boy?”

  “Very sick.”

  Lily stayed rock still until she counted to thirty, breathing evenly, studying the top two buttons of his shirt, the V where she focused on the collar of his navy thermal undershirt, his Adam’s apple.

  “So, when are you going to tell me what happened to you last night?” she asked when she finally looked up into his eyes. She flicked to Deegan and back.

  Cam shrugged. “Nothing much to say. The other agents said they wanted to ask me about using the computers. A lot like when we went through the deposition phase for my case. The agents could have simply read the notes from back then.”

  “Computers? What for? Last case?” She dropped her gaze from the line between his brows to his mouth, starting to think about that kiss again, and back up to his eyes. She yearned to reach out and smooth that line between them. “Oh, right. Yeah, I wasn’t thinking about that right now. That’s all over, anyway, isn’t it?”

  She wished again they weren’t at the hospital and that they’d met in a different time and place. But would she have given them a chance to get to know each other? Based on what others in town thought of him before they’d met him? Now that she had lived in his private world a couple of days, she knew he wouldn’t ever have hurt that girl back at his college. He cared too much about people. He cared so much he didn’t even want to go back to the army. “What computers?” she asked, not really wanting to know, just needing a reason to stay close and pretend to make meaningful talk. His eyes were soft, slightly out of focus as if he, too, were remembering something else. She felt her lips soften and lift at the corners.

  “I think it had something to do with the library computers,” he said, “although I’m not sure what they were after. They kept asking what I used them for, and my research.”

  Lily continued to lock eyes with Cam. “You mean like when you researched your grandmother’s police reports? About that murder and your grandfather’s disappearance?” The words flowed, but she wasn’t paying as much attention to them as she was the changing lights in his dark irises. His pupils expanded ever so slightly. She flinched when he grabbed her forearm.

  He groaned. “How could I miss that? Office of the Inspector General! Of course! Internet search engines.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He looked at Deegan and back again and whispered, “It must have something to do with the cold case. That murder?”

  “But what about it?” she whispered back. The conversation and the scary drama of last night clicked. “I was just getting to it in your grandma’s diary.”

  “You have that book here?”

  She nodded. “I took it before we left last night.”

  “Do me a favor. Don’t show it to anyone.”

  “Okay. It’s in my coat pocket. But why would anybody care about a fifty-some-year-old murder?”

  He took a deep breath and brushed his lips against hers. “Somebody important probably cares more about the murder than my grandfather. But now I have some leverage to find out who. You think you’ll be safe with your bodyguards here? I need to catch some sleep if I’m going to be in good shape to meet with my new lawyer tomorrow.”

  “Lawyer, Cam?” Lily didn’t like the lines of fatigue around his mouth and eyes. “You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

  The sweet smile he let play across his lips lit up his eyes, which shone like brilliant dark sapphires. “Look who’s asking who if he’ll be okay.” He shook his head at her gently and tugged her into a hug. “Mmm…I think I’m jealous you have bodyguards besides me.”

  He held her away from him.

  “You don’t have to be,” she said. “I would rather be out of here.” She listened to the tones of an unusual shyness creep into her voice. He had such beautiful eyes. The words from his grandmother’s diary about Gregor, Cam’s grandfather, came back to her. Gonna make some cute children, yes, Lord.

  “I know what you mean.” He smiled again, and she was glad he was holding her up. “Let me walk you down the hall. Or should I get a chair? How are your feet?”

  “I’m good.”

  He turned her hands over and studied them. “The blisters are going down. Did they give you any help?”

  “No. I’m not a patient. I wouldn’t let them do anything.”

  At his raised brows, she laughed. “I already had great treatment. I don’t want anyone else touching me.”

  After she settled in the chair next to Kenny, she knew she’d have to say good-bye to Cam again.

  He crouched next to her, holding her hand gently, careful of not putting any pressure on the damaged skin. They didn’t say anything. Eventually, he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, rose, and left. It was better that way, Lily thought.

  Kenny’s features were marble-still, as though he were merely napping, and her heart ached. What if he’d suffered a brain injury? What would Berta do? Lily would love and take care of this little boy no matter what, no matter if her sister rejected him. Where was her nutty sister? Ole had disappeared earlier. Lily made a fist, wishing it didn’t hurt so much, wanting to do damage, somewhere, to someone, to show those creeps
she wasn’t going quietly into their macabre plan.

  Which reminded her…Art. Art was in this building. Maybe she could settle for hurting him instead.

  FORTY-SIX

  Wednesday, December 20

  Cam had borrowed Lily’s car to get home last night. As he drove back into Barter Valley in the morning, slipping around on the car’s bald tires, for his appointment with Minerva Thorsten, he kept a running commentary of his current situation spiraling in his head. Stone cold stupid. This whole deal with him and the Internet and research was a separate thing going down from the case Forbes was on, just like the man said. Cam could not believe him at first.

  Uncle Sam was monitoring his personal business. But Cam had beaten a mess before. He’d been acquitted. He wasn’t on any sex-offender registry or felon watch-list. He didn’t think so, anyway. How ripped from the headlines was that? “Illegal Wire Tapping in Small Town Library.” “Free Speech Rights Stomped Again.” “Sex Trafficking Stopped.” All of Matt’s dreams would come true when he broke both stories. And if Matt was right, this Minerva was the perfect legal representation for a person whose constitutional rights were being violated.

  He parked, pulled up his hood and jumped frozen waist-high piles of snow to get to the newspaper office. At least the weather was changing. The high temp might make zero today. The dogs would be all right. They’d stay together, keep warm. He’d water them later. What day was it? Logan possibly had his truck ready. He caught a glimpse of a shadow on the walk, the prickle that something was in his way. He stopped and looked up. And swallowed. “Hi, there, Ole. What’s happening?”

  Ole took off his gloves and cracked his knuckles. He slowly pulled the gloves back on. “Lily isn’t like the other girls around here. She sorta got a little stuck-up from living in the cities, but she’s still a nice girl.”

  After the big guy’s little display of assumed prowess, Cam decided to refrain from eye-rolling, sighing, or any other possibly misunderstood gesture of superiority. Besides, he liked Ole and felt a little sorry about maybe taking Lily away from him…if he could even pretend like that. “I agree she’s a nice girl. Pretty early in the morning for a conversation like this, pal. And I’m on my way to an appointment. Spot you a coffee later?”

  Ole plunged right on. “And good. She’s not going back there with you, all alone, to stay at your place again.”

  At this, Cam let out a chuckle. “I agree she’s not going back there alone.” He watched Ole’s jaw muscles clench and held up a hand. “It’s not what you think, man. I care about her safety, and it’s not safe out there.”

  The other man snorted as he breathed in. His mouth opened. “I kin keep her safe.”

  Cam nodded as if he agreed and said softly, “Or your mother can.”

  Ole’s apple cheeks turned an even darker shade of red, while his expression became wounded.

  “Just so we understand each other, brother,” Cam said. “I trust you. Lily trusts you. We don’t trust anyone else.”

  Cam swallowed and wiped his mouth as he watched Ole stride away, each step like a league, until he disappeared around a corner. A hugely smiling fox-faced Sven drove the snowplow past and honked.

  They had to be fraternal twins.

  Ten seconds later, Matt moved his face from the computer screen at the Freeman office to notice Cam stood at his side. “Buddy! I gotta tell ya, this is the third most exciting thing to happen in Barter Valley. Since I can remember, anyhoo. Take a load off.”

  Cam set his coat on the back of a chair and rubbed his hands. “Third?”

  Matt laughed. “Yeah. The twister of seventy-nine took out the school, but it was old and summertime so not too many injuries.” He tapped the palm of his left hand with two fingers. “Then there was that movie crew in here, oh, ’bout six-seven years ago. I forget now just who was the celebs, but that’s why the downtown got so spiffed. They paid for the brickwork and the fake gaslights, ya know.”

  “Really?”

  “Brought in lots of dough. ’Course Securities Unlimited is bringing in business.”

  “So first amendment rights and sex abuse come in third. I see your priorities.”

  The editor was nonplussed. “People identify with what affects them locally. That’s what they care about the most. Hey! Minerva’s delayed a half hour. Something about the roads. She agreed to an interview too. Whaddya say about that?”

  Cam slapped him on the shoulder. “You are easily pleased.”

  They shot the breeze until the door opened later, disgorging a whirlwind of black shawls and umbrella. At first, Cam chuckled at the thought Mary Poppins wandered onto the wrong set. When the flapping stopped and the umbrella was furled, he found his hand engulfed in one extended from a black ruffled sleeve.

  “Minerva Thorsten,” came a throaty voice and hearty, self-conscious laugh from the person in front of him. “I dressed up for the photo op.”

  Cam cleared his throat twice before regaining control of his vocal chords. “Thank you for coming. Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Welcome, I’m sure.” She turned to Matt and shook her head. “Only you could get me here on a day like this.”

  Matt winked at Cam. “And what kind of day is this?”

  She scrunched her brows and said sorrowfully, “A Wednesday.”

  Cam nervously followed Matt’s laugh.

  “I read up on you,” Minerva told Cam after they’d been formally introduced and seated. Matt snapped a few photos. Cam hadn’t shaved and didn’t want to think about his scruffy impression, although he’d put on a clean shirt this morning.

  “Sad. Disturbing prosecution even thought he had a case.” She rummaged in the briefcase at her feet and pulled out a legal pad already covered in notes. “So, tell me exactly what happened.”

  Twenty minutes later, Cam was still trying to put Minerva’s appearance into words he could use when he talked to Lily. The attorney’s skin was smooth though her black hair showed many stark white threads. She was animated, spoke with her hands, and probably made a great impression in court. Solid, average height. Weird get-up. Under the shawls she was dressed in a black ruffled blouse and pin-striped pantsuit. Boots, of course. Red, like the umbrella. The scarf stayed around her shoulders, softening the impression of very large ears.

  Minerva sat back in her chair and twined her fingers. “I think at this point it’s a wait-and-see game. You said you willingly—”

  “They didn’t give him a choice!” Matt cut in. His police scanner crackled but he paid no attention.

  “Went with them,” Minerva continued.

  Cam said, “Yes. I did.”

  “And you weren’t held against your will, nor formally charged.”

  “Correct.”

  “Harassed, perhaps?” she mused. “Profiled?”

  “Tell her about the tires,” Matt said.

  “Right.” How could he have forgotten? “Someone slashed the tires on my truck and emptied the gas tank, probably sometime right before or during the blizzard.”

  “Hmm. Any other unexplained incidents? Damage? There’s some—”

  The jingle of the door opening interrupted her next words. Sven rushed in, halted, and looked Minerva up and down, his mouth hanging wide, before he turned to Cam. “Yo! Hey, there—you gotta get on this, bro!” Sobered, he slowed down and enunciated. “Your place is on fire. You want a ride?”

  * * *

  Lily allowed Officer Deegan to push her in a wheelchair into her brother’s room down on the first floor. Her feet were a lot better, but she didn’t want to waste his time with her slower shuffle. A female officer stood watch outside but didn’t challenge Lily’s request to see Art.

  “Sorry, ma’am, but I have to stay here,” Deegan said when he stopped close but outside the reach of the bed.

  “That’s probably a good idea, anyway,” Lily replied. At the officer’s raised brows, she bit her lips and turned her attention to the occupant of the bed. He was handcuffed to the rails. The
knuckles of his right fist were raw and his face a disaster.

  “Can’t be police brutality,” she muttered. He was intubated, hooked up to the usual monitors and IV fluid bags. A nurse came into the enclosure and glanced at her curiously.

  “Was he conscious earlier?” Lily asked. “He looks terrible.”

  “I don’t know,” the nurse said. “Family?” She directed the question to Deegan.

  “Brother and sister,” Deegan replied from behind Lily.

  “Stepbrother,” Lily said. “Will he live?” That word, “live,” came out instead of “be all right.” Hurting him no longer seemed enough punishment. Though she wanted him to tell her where Berta was, Art obviously wouldn’t be talking any time soon, if he even knew.

  “The doctor can tell you more,” the nurse said. She left without meeting Lily’s eyes.

  The tubes and needles attached to Art were tempting to pull out. Too bad the off button to the breathing machine was on the other side of the bed. Lily closed her eyes and fought the disturbing desire to finish what someone started. They’d never been terribly close as siblings growing up, yet they hadn’t tried to kill each other before, either. She would have roomed somewhere else, maybe, when she came home, if Art hadn’t said she could stay in her old room. Cindy only had a one-bedroom upper, or she might have crashed with her.

  Shifting in the chair didn’t relieve Lily’s antsy anxiety. She leaned over her knees. What a disaster. Dad—Roman—had to have something to do with this whole mess. But running a sex ring from behind bars? No. He hadn’t been that great of a dad, but monsters, not financiers, sold their children and grandchildren into slavery. She couldn’t accept the idea of Roman as a monster. She didn’t even imagine any words to pray.

  She tilted her head back and blinked up at Deegan with a sigh. “I guess I better make arrangements to talk to my father.”

  * * *

  Cam observed the plume of smoke rising and hanging fat and bloated over the woods as they gobbled up the miles toward his home. Uncle Wally’s cabin in the woods, the retreat both of them had cherished for different reasons. At least Uncle Wally hadn’t lived to see this devastation. Cam clenched his fists, not that it did much good inside his gloves.