She felt his hand squeeze hers and she looked up, met his sad eyes with her own.
“I’m sorry, ’Lise. I just needed to leave, distance myself from everyone. The hatred they all have for me is nothing compared to the hatred I have for myself.”
Elise slid off the chair, sunk to her knees in front of Uncle Ken’s chair. “I don’t hate you. I know you didn’t set out to hurt Aunt Faye. I know how much you loved her. I can’t explain why they all turned on you like that. But I didn’t. I know it was an accident. I’ve never doubted that for a minute.”
She looked up at Uncle Ken, saw the tear that slid from beneath his closed eyelids. Pushing herself off the ground, Elise wrapped her arms around the once muscular body, waited for the trembling to stop.
“I love you, Uncle Ken,” she whispered.
~ ~ ~
The atmosphere in the cabin felt different. Almost as if there was a tiny glimmer of hope.
She pushed off the couch and walked around the room, her eyes drawn to the breathtaking photographs that hung on the walls.
“You’re still taking pictures?”
“On occasion. From my porch.”
“I always thought you were the best photographer around. I loved watching the pictures appear on the paper in the darkroom. It was always so magical.”
“Yeah, well, I enjoyed it too. You were always so eager to ask questions, listen to the answers. You seemed to really want to learn about the darkroom.”
“I did. I do. Is there one here?”
“Of course.”
She wandered back to the couch and sat, peered at Uncle Ken as he moved around the small kitchen area, opening cans and rustling in drawers.
“There’s not much I can offer to feed you with no power, but some of these canned provisions are actually pretty okay.”
His words filtered through the air, settled in her thoughts. She’d never really stopped to think how he survived in isolation. Until now.
“How do you get your food? Do you go into town?”
“I haven’t stepped foot off my property since the day I got here.”
“Then how, how do you—”
“My afternoon angel.”
“Your what?”
“My afternoon angel. The only thing that’s kept me going all these years.” Uncle Ken strode into the room carrying a tray with two plates. “But that’s enough about me. I want to catch up on you.”
He set the tray on the floor. “I hope you like beef stew for breakfast. Shouldn’t take too long to warm it up on the fire.”
“Beef stew sounds wonderful.” She scooted the rocking chair closer to the hearth, watched as her uncle placed a small pot onto a cooking surface just above the logs. “Sitting here, with you, I’ve almost forgotten about the serial killer.”
Uncle Ken turned from the fire. “Serial killer?”
Elise nodded slowly, filled her uncle in on everything that had happened since her arrival on the island. She watched his face harden as he listened, saw his jaw tighten.
“I saw someone cutting through my property Thursday afternoon, seemed to be real aware of his surroundings.”
She stared at Uncle Ken’s face, waited for him to continue.
“When you’re in one spot for as long as I’ve been, you develop a sort of intuition about things around you, and I sensed something was off. I pulled back that curtain just enough to see this kid standing there, staring at the cabin.”
Elise leaned forward. “What do you remember about him?”
Uncle Ken twisted the end of his beard between his fingers. “He was young. Looked like he had on a blue coat or cape of some sort. Had two white things in his hand. But then I think he spotted me at the window, ’cause the next thing I knew he was in a sprint through the woods.”
“Could you see anything else?”
“He dropped one of the white things when he took off.”
Elise jumped to her feet. “Maybe I can find it.”
“No. Not in all the snow we’ve had since then.”
She walked toward the window Uncle Ken had indicated and peeked outside. Sure enough, the snow was piled high beside the shed, too deep to wade through.
“Did he have red hair?” Elise turned from the window, met Uncle Ken’s curious eyes.
“Nah. Brown. Maybe a little wavy.”
“Brown?”
Annie’s voice suddenly filled her thoughts.
“Besides, he was kinda cute, ya know? Had a thick head of gorgeous wavy brown hair, and blue eyes that just took your breath away . . .”
“Yup. Brown. Why?”
“Mitch has been focusing on a redhead but my gut says he’s wrong. Maybe I’m right after all.”
“Maybe.” Uncle Ken pulled the pot from the fire and ladled the stew onto their plates. “This boyfriend of yours—Mitch. Is he good to you?”
Elise walked back to the hearth and reached for the plate Uncle Ken held out. “He’s wonderful. He’s my angel.”
“I’m glad.”
They ate in silence, a feeling of warmth now blanketing a room that felt so cold only an hour ago. She prayed that Uncle Ken felt the difference too.
A succession of low beeps broke through the quiet of the cabin, made her jump.
“It’s just my watch, ’Lise. It must be ten thirty.”
“Ten thirty? Oh, my God, I have to go! Mitch is gonna be worried if I’m not at the station soon.” She set the plate down on the tray and reached for Uncle Ken’s hands. “Please come with me. Come to the station and tell Mitch about the guy on your property.”
“I can’t do that, ’Lise.”
She stared at him, saw the dull film that inched across his eyes. “Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
Her heart ached for the man who stood in front of her, the man who died a different death the moment Faye was found.
“Then let me bring Mitch here. You’re too vulnerable out here by yourself.”
“No.”
Reaching upward, she cupped his bristly cheek in her palm. “Okay. But I’ll be back soon. Alone.”
Chapter Twenty
11:45 a.m.
She could see Mitch pacing around the station room, his shoulders rigid, his jaw tightened. Brad was in his usual chair, leaning against the wall with his arms behind his head, completely oblivious to the effects his open window had on the core temperature of everyone else in the room. Jonathan seemed tired, wary, his eyes tracking Mitch back and forth across the floor.
Elise inhaled slowly, the cold snowy air searing her lungs. She was going to have some serious explaining to do, that was for sure. But the true reason for her extended “sleep” would have to wait. It would be hard enough to tell Mitch about Uncle Ken alone, she certainly didn’t need to divulge her long-held secret in front of an audience.
She turned the doorknob and pushed, snow falling from her sleeve with the quick movement of her arm.
“Elise! Oh, my God, where’ve you been?”
The worry in Mitch’s eyes was unmistakable as he crossed the room to meet her, his forehead creased with concern.
“I was, um, resting—like you said.” She felt Mitch’s powerful arms around her shoulders, his strong hand on the back of her head, and the overwhelming guilt in her heart at the lies that continued to pour from her mouth. “Did I miss something?”
Mitch’s warm lips pressed against her forehead, her eyes, before he finally stepped back.
“It’s almost noon, ’Lise! I was a few seconds away from sending out a search party to check the hotel.”
“It’s true, Elise. He’s been pacing so hard I thought he was gonna wear a hole right through the middle of the floor.” Brad stood and walked around his desk to stand beside Jonathan. “It took all my powers of persuasion to keep him from breaking down your door and interrupting your beauty sleep.”
She pulled her lower lip inward for a moment and looked from Mitch to Brad to Jonathan, then back again.
“I’
m sorry, guys. I ju— I just needed some time. For me.”
Elise searched Mitch’s face, silently prayed for him to understand, to somehow accept her lie as truth. But his eyes showed no indication of mistrust. Only fear. For her.
Nibbling on her lip, she forced her eyes to stay focused on him, to resist the impulse to look down at her feet in shame. Finally, his stance loosened and he pulled her to him once again.
“I’m okay, Mitch, really,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
After several long moments his grip loosened and she stepped back, her heart still heavy with guilt, her mind searching for something to say to take the focus off of her.
“Did I miss anything this morning?” Elise heard the tremor in her voice, hoped the guys didn’t notice.
Jonathan coughed and leaned back against Brad’s desk. “Nothing other than the fact that Mark has something he wants to show Mitch.”
She looked at Mitch, willed herself to see past the added tension in his face. Tension she had caused.
“What is it?”
Mitch shook his head, ran his hand across his eyes and over his hair. “Don’t know. He hasn’t come by.”
Elise looked back at Jonathan, questions whirling through her thoughts faster than she could comprehend. “He didn’t tell you what it was?”
“Nope. And I couldn’t ask without looking suspicious.”
She looked back at Mitch. “So are you gonna wait here to see if he comes?”
Mitch shook his head once again. “No. Brad and I want to head out to the livery and talk to Vic’s kid since we never made it out there yesterday.”
Elise pulled the sleeve of her parka back to reveal the silver watch underneath. “Oh, my gosh, Merlin! I completely forgot.”
“Elise, I don’t know if I want you on your own again, I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
The intense honesty in Mitch’s voice stung and she silently berated herself for causing him an added strain he didn’t need or deserve. She reached out, touched Mitch’s arm. “Mitch, I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”
“I can go with Elise if that’ll help,” Jonathan offered. “It’ll give me something to do, and there shouldn’t be any reason that Mark would see us together in a newsroom.”
Elise looked up, met Mitch’s questioning eyes with a smile. “See? I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me.”
“That’s like asking me not to breathe, Elise.”
12:45 p.m.
“That young man really loves you.”
Jonathan’s words hung like clouds in the still air as they trudged side by side through the snow.
Elise stopped, looked up at the retired officer’s piercing green eyes.
“I love him too, Jonathan.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that, it’s written across your face every bit as much as his.” Small clouds of smoke escaped the man’s mouth, his warm breath meeting the cold air. “But I saw something else in your face back at the station just now.”
Elise jammed her gloved hands into the pockets of her parka and continued walking, her heart rate accelerating as Jonathan fell in step beside her once again.
“Look, I’m not trying to pry into something that isn’t my business, but you can’t be thrown into a situation like the one we’re in and not begin to care about the people around you.”
“It has nothing to do with whether I love Mitch,” she said, her voice quiet yet uncharacteristically raspy. “It’s about me. My family.”
“And Mitch doesn’t know?”
Elise shook her head, silence filling the space between them as they stepped onto the front porch of the Island News office.
“I just, well, it’s not something, oh, Jonathan, it’s complicated.” She looked up at his face, knew her eyes were pleading with him to understand and not judge.
“It’s okay, Elise, you don’t have to explain anything to me. But if you want to talk, I’ve been told that I’m a pretty good listener.”
“Thanks, Jonathan.”
“No problem. Now, let’s see if this news guy can help us out a little.”
Nodding, she turned and knocked loudly. Several long minutes passed before the door finally opened and Merlin’s face peeked out slowly from around the corner.
“Hi, Merlin, how’re you feeling today?”
The newsman looked her over from head to toe then turned his attention on Jonathan, his eyes sporting an odd look she’d put somewhere between curiosity and annoyance.
“Who’s he?”
“This is Jonathan, he’s helping Mitch and Brad with their investigation.” Elise stepped aside to allow Jonathan to extend his hand to Merlin, a gesture that was met with no response.
“I’m sorry, Merlin, I suppose I should have checked with you to make sure it was okay.”
Jonathan kept his hand out, waited for Merlin to reciprocate. “Mr. Webber, it’s not Elise’s fault that I’m here. I just thought maybe three sets of eyes would be better than two.”
She was relieved when Merlin finally gripped Jonathan’s hand and pulled the door open completely.
“Sorry. I guess I’m just a bit on edge after everything you told me yesterday, Elise.” Merlin shut the door behind them and turned toward the newsroom across the narrow hall.
“So, are you feeling any better, Merlin?”
“A little. I slept pretty hard until about eight o’clock. But then I couldn’t stay away from the wire files any longer.”
“Did you find anything?” Jonathan’s firm, gruff voice boomed through the paper-crammed room as he scanned the office, slowly bringing his eyes back to Elise and Merlin.
“Not a thing.” Merlin gestured toward the ground beneath the back left window. “I’ve already gone through the pile to the left of the basket, but haven’t actually gotten to the ones inside it yet.”
Elise unbuttoned her coat and pulled her arms out, draped the baby blue parka across a nearby chair. “Okay, then I’ll start there.”
Merlin addressed Jonathan, his probing tone a reflection of his chosen profession. “Do you have a news background too?”
Jonathan shook his head, a slight smile turning the corners of his mouth upward. “No. I’m a retired cop.”
“A cop?”
“Yup.”
“Did you come over here with Elise and her detective friend?”
“No. We just met the other day.”
“Then how do we know you’re really a cop and not the serial killer masquerading as a cop?”
The silence that blanketed the newsroom was deafening. Elise felt her mouth drop open as she struggled to think of something to help soften Merlin’s attitude.
“Good for you for checking on me,” Jonathan said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a badge. “More people need to ask questions, particularly in a situation like this.”
She felt the tension in her shoulders ease as Merlin squinted approvingly at the badge Jonathan placed in his hand.
“Sorry, Jonathan. I had to ask.”
Jonathan’s hand shot into the air and he shook his head emphatically. “No apologies needed, Mr. Webber.”
Merlin coughed into his balled-up fist, then ran his hand across his mouth. “Call me Merlin. Now, I’d offer you some coffee, but that’s kinda tough without electricity at the moment. How ’bout a Pepsi? Elise?”
“That’d be great, Merlin. Thanks. How about you, Jonathan?”
“No, nothing for me. I’m fine right now.”
Merlin disappeared into the narrow front hallway, leaving Elise and Jonathan alone in the newsroom.
“I’m sorry about Merlin’s twenty questions just then.”
“Don’t be. He’s a newsman, he’s built to be skeptical.” Jonathan unzipped his coat and placed it on top of Elise’s. “Now, let’s get at the rest of those stories in that basket while we still have some natural light to work by.”
They sat on the floor side by side, each reaching for a stack of unread papers f
rom the blue plastic basket.
1:45 p.m.
“It’s right around that corner.” Brad raised his arm and pointed with his ski pole in the direction of Stodder’s Livery.
Mitch nodded and pushed against the ground with his pole, anxious to finally meet the stable owner’s new employee. There was no doubt, the kid’s time of arrival on the island left many questions.
They skied straight for a few hundred yards, then turned just beyond the final outcropping of trees. Sure enough, as they rounded the corner an old wooden barn sprang into view. Plumes of smoke billowed from the chimney of the A-frame cedar house that stood just to the right of the barn.
Mitch skied to a stop beside Brad.
“Let’s head straight to the barn and see if we can catch this guy without warning.”
Brad looked toward the house. “I dunno, Mitch. Vic Stodder doesn’t take too kindly to people being on his property and he ain’t shy about using his gun.”
“Then you head on up to the house, I’ll head over to the barn.” Mitch unsnapped his skis and stepped into the snow. “That way you can thwart the whole gun threatening thing, and I can catch this kid off guard.”
Brad unsnapped his skis and headed toward the house, glancing back over his shoulder at Mitch. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. Go.”
Mitch trudged through the snow to the barn, stopped just outside the partially opened door. He could hear someone talking in a quiet, soothing voice.
He stepped inside. A row of stalls lined the right wall, another row the left. The hushed, soothing words were coming from a stall in the back.
Quietly, Mitch made his way down the center aisle, stopping just before the last stall on the right.
A brown-haired kid in his late teens was kneeling beside a foal, talking softly as he held a bottle to the animal’s lips.
Mitch leaned forward, strained to make out the young man’s words.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone important. But you’re gonna be okay ’cause I’m here with you. And even though that doesn’t bring your mom back, it does help.”
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