Where There's Smoke

by Doreen Roberts

  “I can afford a lawyer, Claire, but thank you. That was a wonderful, sweet offer and I do appreciate it.”

  Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Then you’ll hire one?”

  “I guess I’ll have to. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, for Harrie’s sake. I don’t want to see her hauled through the courts.”

  “We will have to be super careful from now on,” Claire said, feeling a little better. “Which brings me to something else. I’m afraid Harrie hasn’t been doing everything she’s been told to do.”

  His face changed, and his voice sharpened when he said, “What does that mean?”

  She told him about the secret places on Hunter’s Ridge. As she talked his expression grew more grim, until she was beginning to worry about the trouble she’d made for Harrie.

  “I don’t think she’s deliberately disobeying you,” she said quickly. “But it’s her favorite place. For some reason she feels more secure up there. I think she likes to escape to another world, and that’s why she spends so much time up there. That’s where she goes when she runs away.”

  “Well, it will have to stop.” Again he cursed, running his hand through his hair. “How can I win this thing if she’s defeating the purpose at every turn?”

  She wanted desperately to touch him, to lay a sympathetic hand on his arm. “Well, you won’t have to worry about it while I’m here. Harrie trusts me, enough to show me her secret places. At least I know where to find her now if she runs off.”

  “Until she finds new ones.” Turner shook his head. “You don’t know my daughter. She can be very resourceful when she sets her mind to it.”

  “I tried to explain to her what might happen if Chet knows she’s straying that far. I don’t know if I got through to her, but it wouldn’t hurt if you had a word with her and warned her.”

  She realized he was looking at her strangely. “Is something the matter?”

  “How long have you been on a first name basis with the caseworker?”

  She flushed, but met his gaze. “Since today. He was here earlier this afternoon.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m sorry. I was worried about telling you about the custody case. It just slipped my mind.”

  He continued to look at her, and she sighed. “Turner, when are you going to learn to trust me?”

  “I’m trying to trust you, Claire.”

  “I hope so. You will need a friend before all this is over.”

  “I know.” He sipped his coffee, a brooding expression on his face. “I’ll talk to Harrie, though God knows what good it will do. I’ve already warned her about the CSD and what could happen if she doesn’t do what she’s told. I might have to end up locking her in her bedroom to get the message across.”

  Her need to touch him was so strong she ached with it. Yet it was more than she dared to do. She had the strong feeling that once she touched him, she wouldn’t want to stop.

  Instead she got up and deliberately yawned. “It’s been a long day. I think it’s time I went home.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” He rose, a determined expression on his face.

  “No, you can’t leave Harrie alone.”

  “She’ll be all right. I’ll lock the door. I don’t like the idea of you walking down there alone. Especially after you saw someone lurking around.”

  Claire managed a light laugh. “We don’t know they were lurking around. It could have been a fisherman or even a bird-watcher.”

  “With a flashlight at night? I doubt it.”

  She reached the door and looked back, her pulse leaping to find him close behind her. “Turner, I made it last night without any problem and I didn’t see any lights.”

  She probably wouldn’t have noticed if there had been any lights, she thought, remembering how upset she was when she’d left the night before.

  “I’m coming with you. It will take all of five minutes. Harrie is asleep and won’t even know I’ve gone.” Before she could protest any further, he pushed her gently out the door and closed it behind them.

  “What if someone from the CSD is watching?” she said nervously, looking around at the dark shadows of the trees. “Or what if Mrs. Bridgemont did hire a private detective, and he’s out there?”

  “You worry too much.” He took her arm and began taking long strides down the path, so that she had to practically run to keep up. “And if anyone is watching, they’ll see me return in a few minutes.”

  She could feel the force of her heartbeat as they headed down the path toward her car. His hand on her bare arm seemed to burn right through her skin. Neither of them spoke as they drew closer to the clearing. Claire could hardly find the breath to keep up his pace, let alone speak.

  She was out of breath when they halted by the car. Turner waited for her to unlock the door, which she did with fingers that shook. Looking up at him, she could see his expression in the shadowy light cast by the moon.

  He wore that determined look again, and her heart jumped. “Good night, Turner,” she said shakily. “And thanks for coming with me.”

  She wasn’t really surprised when, instead of answering, he took hold of her chin in his warm fingers and brushed her lips with his.

  “Good night, Claire,” he said softly. “And thank you. For being a friend.” He turned swiftly and walked fast into the forest.

  He heard the sound of the engine fade away in the night, leaving a feeling of emptiness in his heart. The feeling told him what he hadn’t wanted to know. He was becoming emotionally involved with Claire Spencer.

  He lengthened his stride, as if trying to outrun the thoughts tormenting him. Somewhere along the way he had lost the doubts that had plagued him at first. He wanted her. Not just on a physical level anymore, but on every level there was. He wanted her in every conceivable way.

  Maybe he always had, but had unconsciously denied it because he was married to Stacey. But Stacey had betrayed him. And Stacey was dead, whereas he was very much alive. In fact, since Claire Spencer had come back into his life, he had never felt more alive.

  He hadn’t thought he would ever be able to trust his love again, but as he strode through the darkened forest on that warm sultry evening, with the wind whispering in the branches above his head, he knew that he was ready to risk again. And the knowledge was like sunshine bursting inside him with warmth and light.

  He was smiling as he fell asleep that night. And in the morning, his first thoughts were of warm hazel eyes and smooth nut-brown hair, and a mouth that he couldn’t wait to kiss again.

  * * *

  He was still smiling when he went to wake up Harrie, and at first, he didn’t understand the significance when he saw the empty bed.

  She wasn’t in the bathroom or in the kitchen. But the bowl that had held bananas and apples the night before was now empty. The sinking feeling in his stomach intensified when he searched her room and couldn’t find the new bear that Claire had bought for her. Also, Harrie’s schoolbag had disappeared from the closet.

  Without much hope, he went outside and shouted her name. A flutter of wings in the pine trees answered him, but the voice he wanted to hear remained silent.

  As he remembered what Claire had told him the night before, anxiety clutched at him like avenging talons. Now that he knew how far Harrie wandered from home, he was afraid for her as he’d never been before.

  He decided to search the woods first, just in case she had chosen to hide out there. Shouting her name, he jogged along the trail, his gaze probing the dense, green undergrowth and shrubs that provided so much camouflage for a small child.

  He saw nothing, heard nothing. As a last resort he headed for her practice target area. If she wasn’t there, he told himself, and he really didn’t expect her to be, he would have to ask Claire to take him up on the Ridge and point out Harrie’s hiding places.

  He was within sight of the clearing where Harrie practiced throwing her knives, when he saw something that almost stopped his
heart. Something lying on the ground. Someone.

  He slowed his pace and moved cautiously forward. He found he could breathe again when he realized the person was too big to be Harrie.

  It was a man, lying on his side, his back toward Turner.

  At first, Turner thought it was a bum, sleeping off one too many bottles of cheap wine. Then, as he crept closer, a feeling of dread stole over him. The man was lying too still.

  “Hey,” Turner said sharply. “Wake up, man.”

  The figure didn’t move.

  He didn’t want to go any nearer. He wanted to turn around and leave, pretend he’d seen nothing. But, of course, he couldn’t do that. He covered the rest of the ground between him and the still figure.

  With his forefinger, Turner jabbed the fleshy shoulder. “Hey,” he said again. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t get a response. He took a long, deep breath. Then, holding the man’s shoulder in a firm grip, he pulled him over onto his back.

  Shock shivered over him, shattering his nerves like crushed ice. He recognized the face. It was Ray Newberg. And the gray eyes stared at him, seeing nothing behind the shattered lens of his glasses.

  With a muttered oath, Turner sprang back, his gaze dropping to the dead man’s chest. In the center of it, someone had buried a long knife to the hilt.

  Part of his mind registered that the man hadn’t been dead too long, since the blood hadn’t yet dried on the checkered shirt. Then his body went cold as his mind registered the rest of it. He’d know that distinctive red-and-black handle anywhere. The knife belonged to Harrie.

  * * *

  Claire answered the phone on the third ring, with a strange feeling of premonition like a dull ache in her stomach. The second she heard Turner’s voice she knew it had to be something awful. “Harrie?” she said quickly

  “She’s gone.” He paused, as if he needed air. “I don’t know where she is. I’m afraid it’s big trouble this time, Claire.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “What happened?”

  “I started searching the woods for her. The first place I looked was her practice site where she throws the knives.”

  She was beginning to feel sick. Her fingers tightened the phone as she listened to Turner’s strained voice.

  “I didn’t find Harrie, but I found something else. It was Ray Newberg from the antique shop. He’s dead, Claire. He had a knife sticking out of his chest. One of Harrie’s knives.”

  “Oh, my God!” Her head spun and she grappled with the chaotic thoughts whirling through her mind. Surely Harrie wouldn’t...

  No. It was unthinkable.

  “I’ve called the sheriff, and he and his men are on the way,” Turner said. “I need you here so you can show me where Harrie could be hiding.”

  She could feel the blood draining from her face. “Turner, you don’t think...they don’t think—”

  “I don’t know what to think right now, Claire. Please hurry. I need you.”

  I need you. She closed her eyes briefly. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” She slammed down the phone and spent a precious few minutes picking up what she needed. Then she was on her way, driving faster than was prudent, trying desperately to think positive. Harrie was all right. Dear God, she had to be all right. Turner had to be going through hell. Her heart ached for him.

  Once she had cleared the city traffic, she flew down the highway, her tires screeching as she took the bends. She saw Turner waiting for her as she pulled up in the clearing in a cloud of dust. Her heart stopped beating when she caught sight of the sheriff’s car parked under the trees.

  She practically fell out of her car, flinging questions at Turner. “What happened? How long has she been gone? Did she say anything when she left?”

  He stopped her with his hand on her arm. “She didn’t say anything, Claire. She was gone when I got up this morning. I have no idea when she left. She could have been out all night.”

  Shock jolted her. “But why? She was fine when she went to bed last night—”

  Turner shrugged, his face white and strained. “I don’t know. She has never done this before. When I found the body I thought at first...” He stopped, gulped down air, then finished. “Her schoolbag is missing. So I’m assuming she ran away. I think she took some books with her this time. I know she took food, and at least one of her bears. I haven’t looked to see what else is missing—”

  She had never felt more helpless in her life than in that moment. “Oh, Turner, I’m so sorry. I’m sure we’ll find her.”

  He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. “I’m scared to death. I don’t know what happened here last night, but the deputies are out there hunting around. They’re sending an ambulance to pick up the body.”

  Even as he spoke they heard the faint whine of a siren in the distance. “She probably had nothing to do with this,” Claire said swiftly as Turner looked about ready to cry. “Harrie would never hurt a living thing. She wouldn’t step on a bug, let alone kill a man.”

  “Not on purpose, perhaps. But what if she’d been practicing—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat.

  “If he ever came up here I’d push him off so that he rolled all the way down to the bottom again.” She shut out the thought of Harrie making good on her words before it formed. She wouldn’t believe it. She couldn’t.

  “What was Ray Newberg doing there, anyway?” she said, suddenly remembering the flashlight she’d seen in the dark.

  “I don’t know. It’s one of the things the police wanted to know—” He broke off as a white sedan pulled in off the road and came to a halt in the clearing. Behind it, its siren dying, the ambulance slid to a stop, stirring up more dust.

  A short, thin man in jeans and a T-shirt climbed out of the car and started walking toward them. “Where’s the body?” he asked as he reached them.

  Turner pointed down the path.

  The man squinted in the sun. “Can we get the ambulance down there?”

  “No,” Turner said, “it’s too narrow.”

  “Then I’ll guess we have to walk.” He went back to the ambulance and spoke to the driver. A minute later two men jumped out of the ambulance, took out a stretcher and carried it down the path through the trees.

  “I think we should head for Hunter’s Ridge,” Claire said, looking at Turner’s ashen face. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. I had better tell them where we’re going first.”

  He turned to follow the men down the path, but at that moment a third vehicle pulled in off the road. Claire’s spirits sank to rock bottom. She recognized the small black compact. Feeling a sense of despair, she watched Chet Warren climb out of the car.

  “I was at the station when I heard the call come in,” he said as the three of them walked back to the cabin. “I came right away.”

  “Of course. This is just what you need to prove your case, right?” Turner said bitterly.

  Chet gave him a sympathetic look. “I know how you must feel, and believe me, I don’t want to add to your troubles. But this is a case I’m investigating, and naturally I’m concerned about Harrie.”

  “Naturally.”

  Turner sounded so miserable, and Claire touched his arm in silent sympathy.

  “The most important thing we have to do is find my daughter. That’s all I can think about right now,” he said harshly. “I’ll have to worry about your part in this later.”

  “We’re going to look for her, right now,” Claire said as they approached the cabin. “I’m sure we’ll find her.”

  Her stomach jolted when she saw the sheriff’s deputy standing at the front door. He looked serious as they walked up the path toward him.

  “Have they found out anything?” Turner asked.

  The deputy shook his head. “Not yet. We are very anxious to talk to the little girl when we find her. That might help.”

  “We think we might know where she is,” Turner said, putting his hand on Claire’s
shoulder as if he needed support. “We’re going to take a look now—”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Mitchell. I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere. Not until we get a few more answers, that is.”

  Claire let out a small sound of protest. “You can’t think—”

  “Just following orders, ma’am. You are free to go where you want, but Mr. Mitchell stays here.”

  Turner cursed, lifting his face to the sky.

  “I’ll go by myself,” Claire said quickly. She laid her fingers on Turner’s arm and squeezed. “I’ll find her. I’ll keep looking until I do.”

  “You want me to come with you?” Chet asked.

  For a minute she was tempted, then shook her head. It wouldn’t help Turner’s case if Chet knew that Harrie frequently wandered up on the Ridge. “No, if she is hiding and sees you with me, she might stay out of sight. I’ll have to go alone.”

  She looked back at Turner, her heart twisting at the despair in his eyes. “I’ll find her,” she said fiercely. “I won’t come back without her.”

  “If you wait a while we can send a deputy to help search for her,” the officer said, looking a little more sympathetic.

  “That would just frighten her,” Claire said quickly. “Maybe later...” She let her voice trail off. She’d been going to say she’d accept help later if she couldn’t find Harrie. But she had to sound positive. For Turner’s sake if not her own.

  Turner gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks,” he murmured.

  With a last long look into his eyes, she turned and hurried away.

  The climb to Hunter’s Ridge seemed longer and more steep than she remembered from the day before. Her legs ached long before she reached the first hiding place, a small hollow behind a clump of marionberry bushes.

  She didn’t expect to find her there. Nor did she expect to find her in the three places she searched after that. Something told her that Harrie was at the top of the Ridge, tucked inside her bat cave.