Elena couldn’t even remember what her husband looked like. Her fingers curled around the doorjamb. Her right hand crept to the ring finger of her left again. She knew she’d been married but had only this circumstantial evidence, not any memory of a man, to prove it.
She straightened her shoulders and stepped into the kitchen. These good people needed some kind of pleasantry from her. “Something smells good.”
Bree spun from where she stood cooking at the stove. “Good morning.” She stared. “Your bruise is bigger.”
Kade stood from his seat at the table and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat. Bree is learning to make pannukakku. This attempt is pretty good. I don’t think it will poison you.”
Elena felt a smile curving her lips. Her tension began to melt away in the presence of these two. “Does she commonly poison people?”
Bree made a face. “I’m not the best cook in the country. But Kade here has gained fifteen pounds since we married, so he shouldn’t be complaining.” She fixed him with a stern stare that changed to a giggle when he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.
“I’m starving. What is pannukakku?” She’d never heard the word.
Bree turned back to the stove. “A Finnish pancake. Kind of a custardy one with a fruit sauce. Boysenberry in this case.”
“Sounds yummy. Maybe I should wake Terri.” Before sitting at the table, Elena went to the windowsill. “Your African violet needs help.” She deadheaded the wilted blossoms and gave the plant a drink of water before caressing the leaves. What a lovely, velvety texture. She sniffed the aroma of soil. Such a fresh, new scent. And how had she known what the plant needed?
Lost in thought, she went to the table.
“I don’t have a green thumb.” Bree scooped up some pancake. “This warms up well. You can let her sleep if you want.” She put a plate of food down in front of Elena.
Elena spooned a bit of the concoction into her mouth. The sweetness felt like a shot of adrenaline. “Oh, this is great.” She began to wolf it down.
“Good.” Bree sat down in the chair next to her. “Is there anything I can do to help you today? Someone I can call?”
“No, no one,” she mumbled. She wasn’t prepared for questions. She took another bite, but the pancake lost its savor. Bree would want to dig until she found out who Elena was. The thought of discovering who had done this made her shudder. Whatever it was, the pain was too great to face now.
“You still don’t remember anything, do you?” Bree asked in a gentle voice.
Elena grasped for a memory, anything. A dim hint of music floated in her mind. She could see a dance floor, hear the pounding of ballet slippers. Someone called out a name. Elena Cox.
Her fingers clutched the golden ballet slippers at her neck. “I . . . I remembered,” she gasped. “My name is Elena Cox.” Her gaze fell to the floor. A worn pair of ballet slippers superimposed themselves over her bare feet. A high laugh tried to escape her throat. She was remembering.
“Oh, good.” Bree’s voice rose on the end with a hint of relief in it. “We want to help you,” Bree said, exchanging a glance with Kade. “And don’t worry, Kade and I discussed it. You’re welcome to stay until you get on your feet.”
“I don’t have any money. Maybe I could find a job in a convenience store or something.” Ballet hardly seemed something marketable.
“There’s a little shop in town, Finnish Imports. The owner happens to be my first husband’s mother. She’s looking for sales help. The pay isn’t much, but it would be enough to get by for now.”
“She’s Finnish?”
Bree nodded. “Many of the residents of Rock Harbor are of Finnish descent. Or Cornish who came over to work the copper mines of the Keweenaw. I think you’ll like it here.”
“What do you do?” Elena asked.
“I train search-and-rescue dogs. I also have an animal shelter. Do you like animals?”
“I . . . I think so.” Her eyes filled, and she looked down. “Your job must be very interesting.”
“I like it.”
“You’ve been very kind,” Elena said. “When could I talk to the owner of the store? What’s her name?”
“Anu Nicholls. We’ll go over after Terri gets up. You’ll love Anu. She’s always been there for me, even after Rob died.”
“Mama?” Terri stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Elena held out her arms, and Terri ran to climb onto her mother’s lap. The little girl’s hair was sticky with something and stuck up on end, but the aroma of little girl was even more appealing than that of the Finnish pancake. Elena pulled it into her lungs, dragging it in deep like an oxygen-starved diver. “We need to give you a bath. Are you hungry?”
Terri nodded. Her mother offered a spoonful of pannukakku, and the little girl’s eyes widened.
“Good?” Elena asked her daughter.
Terri nodded and opened her mouth like a little bird for more. The child soon finished a whole pancake.
She wiggled down to the floor. “Music,” she said, pointing to the radio on the counter.
Bree smiled and flipped it on. The melody filled the room, and Terri began to dance.
Elena watched her daughter twirl and pirouette around the room. She was incredibly graceful for a little girl. Elena couldn’t drag her eyes from her daughter. Each limb so exquisitely made, so perfect. Her limbs twitched with the desire to dance with Terri, but knowing the Matthewses would be watching kept her in her chair. Elena’s love of dance was her first clue to knowing herself.
“Looks like she’s had dance lessons,” Bree said.
Elena just nodded. It was obvious Terri had been taught, but Elena had no memory of the lessons. “Let’s get you bathed and dressed, Terri.” She scooped her daughter up. “I’ll be right back,” she told Bree.
By the time she bathed Terri and dressed her in denim pants and a pink shirt that read “Daddy’s Girl,” her assurance lagged. She didn’t want to leave the safety of this lighthouse home and face anyone in town. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. A job where she didn’t meet people might be better. What if he came here and just walked into the shop?
She glanced sideways at Terri. The little girl hadn’t mentioned her father. Was that a telling omission? If only Elena could name the threat. It was hard not knowing who was a danger.
Terri patted her mother’s cheeks. “Mama sad?”
“Mama is fine.” She kissed Terri’s cheek. “Maybe we can find a park and go swing later.”
“Swing!” Terri agreed. “Daddy go?”
So much for Terri not asking for her father. How should Elena respond? She not only didn’t know the answer; she didn’t know all the questions. “Daddy isn’t here. We’re visiting friends.”
Terri frowned but didn’t say anything more. She held on to Elena’s hand as they went down the steps to meet Bree by the door.
“Anu is expecting us,” Bree said. She held the door open. “Kade went on to work.”
Elena stepped out into brilliant sunshine and the fresh scent of water. The sound of waves hitting the shore lent a peaceful calm to the day. It was like standing at the beginning of a new world, a place she’d never dreamed existed. This place cast a spell of deep peace over her heart. If only she could stay here.
Maybe she could. It might be safe.
She rolled down her window as they drove the few blocks into downtown. Bree pointed out the landmarks, and Elena drank in the beauty of the small village. The smell of the big lake made her think of new life, and she prayed this was a chance for her and Terri to start over.
Whatever was behind her was something she didn’t want to face.
“Rock Harbor is surrounded on three sides by old-growth forest. The west side of town runs along a bluff above Lake Superior. We live there. Rock Harbor’s downtown area is nestled at the base of Quincy Hill.” Bree smiled. “If you can call three blocks downtown. Most of town’s major businesses are lined up on Houghton S
treet, which is intersected by Jack Pine Lane and Pepin Street.”
Elena nodded. “It’s like stepping back in time.”
“That it is.” Bree parked outside the store. “Here we are. Don’t be nervous.”
Elena followed Bree’s petite figure to the shop. A charming Victorian storefront done in the Painted Ladies style in several shades of blue with red accents made her smile. The front window held displays of wool sweaters in muted tans and browns. The bell jingled on the door as they went inside.
A slim, middle-aged woman looked up. Her stylishly short blonde hair lay in a cut that accentuated her chiseled features. She smiled at Terri. “I have some toys in the back room, little one. Would you like to see?” She held out her arms for Terri.
To Elena’s surprise, the little girl went right to Anu. Terri patted Anu’s face. “Hungry,” she said.
Anu smiled. “She is used to being around her grandmother?”
Elena held out her hand to avoid answering a question she had no answer for. “I’m Elena Cox.” She barely stumbled over the name. It was growing more and more familiar, like a pair of comfortable shoes that had been rediscovered in the back of the closet.
Anu grasped her hand in a firm grip. “I’m Anu. Bree has told me of your situation. Do you have any sales experience, Elena? Not that it should matter. I shall hire you for this little darling’s sake alone.” She smiled at Terri, who was staring at her with fascination.
“I . . . I don’t think so,” Elena stammered. Her bright hope began to flag. This was a mistake.
Anu waved her hand. “No matter. All I really require is someone to smile and be friendly. You will just need to learn the merchandise. I shall show you. Can you start tomorrow? Or are you unwell?” Her focus went to the knot on Elena’s head.
“I’m fine. Tomorrow is fine. Is there a day care around?”
“My friend Naomi said she’d keep Terri,” Bree said. “Since her little one’s been born, she hasn’t yet returned to the Kitchigami Search and Rescue. The kids’ll get along just fine. I’ll take you over to meet her when we leave here.” Bree took Terri from Anu to show her the toys.
Everything had happened so fast, Elena could barely take it in. “I don’t know what to say,” she said in a choked voice.
Anu patted her cheek. “Say yes, kulta.”
“Yes,” Elena whispered past numb lips. She would stay here as long as she could. She hesitated when Anu asked for her Social Security number but then made up one. It would probably be weeks before Anu turned in any money to the government. And Elena didn’t think it was the government that represented the danger.
4
Nick pulled his Dodge Durango to the curb and glanced at his watch. One o’clock on the button, just like he’d told her a week ago. He couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t returned his calls. She must be really ticked.
The house looked the same as always. A French country two-story, it had been Eve’s dream home. And Nick had been only too happy to give her whatever she wanted. The grass was still dormant and brown, waiting for spring.
The house was silent as he approached.
He braced himself for her fury and risked it only because he wanted to see Keri. Monday the divorce papers would go to the judge, and it would be over for good. He still didn’t understand how they’d ever come to this place.
He’d done all he could to save his marriage, but it had been like clawing at sand on a hillside only to hurtle to the bottom anyway.
No one came to the door, so he pounded on it. “Eve!” The house seemed empty, but she’d promised he could have Keri for the weekend, and if there was one thing Eve held sacred, it was her word. Maybe he’d crossed the line this time, made her mad enough to run off. The drapes were open on the picture window, so he stepped into the flower bed, his boots stomping into the petunias Eve had planted. Ignoring the stink of crushed flowers, he cupped his hands around his eyes and peered inside.
A chair lay upended. His gaze traveled the room. Another chair had a rip in it, and a bloody handprint marked the wall behind it. Disbelieving what his eyes had just seen, he clawed out his cell phone and called it in.
“I’m going in,” he told the dispatcher. “Get someone here now.” He clicked it off in the middle of her protest.
The key to the house still dangled amid the other keys on his keychain. Fumbling, he got it out and jammed it into the lock. He twisted it the wrong way first, then finally got it to unlock. His gun in his hand, he stepped into the foyer. The coppery scent of blood hit his senses.
“Please, God, don’t let them be dead,” he whispered. He stepped over a shattered vase into the living room. “Keri?”
His throat thickened, and he felt a certainty that he would find her and Keri lying somewhere in the house in a pool of blood. He heard the dim scream of sirens approaching the house. The house felt closed up, alien. He searched the living room, blanching at the amount of blood on the floor and wall, then went to the kitchen. A peanut butter sandwich lay on the floor with one bite out of it.
There was a sandwich on the body at the lake.
Nick doubled over. “Oh God, oh God,” he cried. “Please, God, no.” He crumpled to his knees on the floor.
The door banged open, and he heard his father’s voice calling him. “In here,” he mumbled past numb lips.
His father stood in the doorway. “Nick? I heard the call on my way home.”
Nick looked up as his father’s gaze lit on the peanut butter sandwich. “That geocacher guy has been here, Dad. He took them,” he whispered. Cyril’s big hand came down on his son’s shoulder and tightened in a grip that should have been painful, but Nick was past physical pain.
“They’re missing?”
Nick’s partner, Fraser Warren, came into the kitchen behind Cyril as Nick nodded. “There’s blood in the living room. A lot of it.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Nick.”
“Maybe she had an accident,” Fraser said.
“Too much blood. What if it’s her? What if the body is Eve? Oh God! Where’s Keri?”
“This might have nothing to do with the other murder,” Cyril said. “I’ll call in the team right now. We’ll find something. Have you checked upstairs?”
“No.” He looked wildly toward the steps. What an idiot.
“I did,” Fraser said. “No one there. But the car’s gone. Any idea where it could be?”
Nick sprang to the garage door. Sure enough, the garage was empty. “Maybe she got away,” he said.
“Maybe,” Cyril said, but his voice lacked confidence.
“I’ll go talk to the neighbors,” Fraser said. He gripped Nick’s shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy. Call your pastor. Have your church pray. We’ll find them.” But his gaze dropped away when Nick stared into his face.
Nick’s cell phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar, but Nick answered it. “Eve?” he barked.
An eerie laugh sounded in his ear, almost like Daffy Duck in the old cartoon. “Figured it out yet, Nick? Have you checked the geo-caching site? I left a clue just for you.”
“Gideon?”
There was a click, then silence. Nick couldn’t think, couldn’t face what the taunting voice meant. Summoning reserves he didn’t know he had, he forced the emotion down to a dark place to be examined later.
He ended the call and turned to Fraser. “That was him. He says he left us a clue on the geocaching site. Where do I find it?” Fraser told him the URL. Nick veered down the hall and into the office.
“I’ll get the laptop,” his dad called after him.
Fraser followed and grabbed Nick as he started to type. “Nick, don’t touch anything. There might be prints.”
Nick dropped his hands and stared at the keyboard. “Get me some gloves. I have to see what he left.”
Fraser glanced around the office. “There’s a wireless router. Wait for your dad to bring the laptop.”
Nick stood and followed his partner out of the office. H
is dad met him in the living room with the laptop in his hand. Nick grabbed it, opened it up, then navigated to the site. “How do I find a cache?”
Fraser pointed out the first link. “Now type in the zip code of your house.”
Nick typed it in and nearly groaned. “Over three thousand caches,” he said.
“It will probably be one of the most recent,” his dad said.
Each cache had a different title, like GERM’S PURGATORY and DÉJÀ VU. How would he find Gideon’s clue in all these? He started at the top. Five caches down he stopped. “This reads ‘Sins of the Past.’ Sounds ominous.” He clicked the link. The page held a set of coordinates, a tiny map, and gibberish he didn’t understand.
Scrolling down the page, he found more. “‘For pride is the beginning of sin, and he that hath it shall pour out abomination: and therefore the Lord brought upon them strange calamities, and overthrew them utterly,’” he read.
Cyril put his big hand on Nick’s shoulder and glanced at Fraser. “What were the coordinates for the woman in the pond?”
Fraser pulled a small notepad out of his pocket and flipped it open. He rattled off some coordinates.
Nick and Cyril exhaled in unison. “Not the same as these,” Nick told Fraser. “Go check the coordinates on the GPS unit in the car.” His partner nodded and vanished out the door.
“I don’t quite recognize that text,” Cryil said. “It sounds like something out of the Bible, but it’s not familiar.”
Nick nodded and opened another browser window, where he typed in the first part of the saying. It brought up another site. “Hmm, it’s from the Apocrypha. Sirach 10:13. I’m not familiar with it.”
While Fraser was gone, Nick decided to return to the geocaching site and check the entry for the first woman they’d found. Under the logged visits, he found a new message from Gideon. “Dad, look here!” He turned the screen around so his father could read it.
Cyril leaned over the computer. “‘Abomination upon abomination. You have left her body unclaimed and unburied. Check out the Blue Gate Bar.’”
Nick moved the computer screen back to face him. “He doesn’t seem to like the fact that we haven’t identified her.”
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