by Dana Mentink
Mick listened in silence, hanging on to the words about his mother, who had died from ovarian cancer when he was in grade school.
“Your mom was flighty as a bird, too, but underlying that was a firm and unshakable faith. She would have said guilt is a prison and God puts the key in your hand. All you need to do is take it and let yourself loose.”
“But you don’t believe that, do you, Dad?”
“I never figured I needed God.”
Mick held his breath. He’d learned his faith from his mother, and he knew it was an enormous step for his father to be entertaining thoughts of God.
“But, Mick, I’m beginning to rethink some things.”
They let the idea sit there awhile and take root.
“I’m just wondering, son. All these years I’ve lived apart from God, my sins unforgiven.” He locked eyes on Mick. “And you’ve known God all this time, and yet you believe your sins are unforgiven, too.”
“Dad…”
“So which is it? Are you forgiven or not?”
A maelstrom of confusion and emotion left him unable to answer.
Perry put his hand over Mick’s. “Maybe we both need to take up that key that your mother talked about.”
Mick clasped his father’s hand, noting that it was not the same strong palm that he’d known as a boy. The bones and knuckles seemed more delicate now. “I’m confused, Dad.”
“Me, too, son. I wish your mother was here, because she’d know what to say, but I know she’d think I’d finally gotten some sense in my thick head. Maybe yours, too. Can we agree to mull it over in that slow-witted way of ours?”
Mick sighed. “Yes, sir.”
A knock at the door saved Mick from his distress. He opened the door and readmitted Sheriff Pickford. Ruby and Keeley joined them.
“Your entrance road is under a couple of inches of water right now. If it doesn’t let up soon, it won’t be passable, so I’m gonna make this quick,” the sheriff said, easing his bulk into an armchair. “Who exactly made an identification of these two brothers?”
Keeley leaned forward. “I did. I saw them down there by the embankment.”
“What about you?” Pickford said to Perry. “Did you see their faces?”
“No, they hit me from behind.”
“What difference does it make?” Mick said. “We know it was them.”
Pickford shrugged. “That’s the burden of law enforcement. Knowing and proving are two different things.”
True enough. It wasn’t long ago that their whole town had believed without a doubt that Ruby’s now brother-in-law was responsible for the child abducted on their property. He was guilty of the misjudgment himself. Knowing and proving were really two different animals. “We know their names, their place of work, we had an encounter with them earlier, what more do you need for proof?”
“Something to break their alibi would be nice.”
“What alibi?” Keeley said.
Pickford rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “According to Frank Carter, the owner of the scrap-metal place in Downeyville, Charlie and Bruce were at his shop this morning and stayed there for lunch.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mick snapped.
“Tuna fish on rye,” Pickford said, “and some leftover peach pie.”
“Carter is lying.”
“Probably, but it’s your word against theirs.”
“I saw them on the sanctuary property,” Keeley said. “Doesn’t that count?”
“Would count more if you weren’t such a distance away in the middle of a downpour. You could have been mistaken.”
“I wasn’t.”
He sighed. “I’m sure you weren’t, but we don’t have enough to bring them in. That’s not to say there won’t be an investigation. We’ve got people out looking for the girl, and Uttley’s heading that up.”
Uttley. Was he to be trusted? They were back to that question again.
“Can you do any digging about the brothers?” Perry asked.
Pickford’s eyes narrowed, sliding to Mick. “That would be stepping on toes. Do you have reason to believe Chief Uttley can’t handle the investigation?”
Mick chose his words carefully. “We have a suspicion that Uttley has a connection to Ginny.”
“The girl who came here to tell you Tucker Rivendale is not a killer.”
Mick saw Keeley flinch. “Yes.”
“We’ve got nothing on her at this point, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Pickford said. “I know a couple of retired cops that used to work for the Big Pines department. I’ll give them a call. Unofficially. If I hear of anything that might be helpful, I’ll pass it your way.”
Mick thanked him. It was the best they could ask for.
He walked the sheriff to the door.
“I’m just gonna say it,” Pickford said. “I’m a cop, and cops trust cops. If Uttley is protecting this girl, he’s got a good reason, but there’s probably nothing to it at all.”
Mick thanked him again and closed the door.
Nothing to it at all?
Not likely.
*
Keeley still stung from the news. Her word wasn’t good enough to stand against the alibi of a pair of violent lawbreakers. So much for the justice system. She wanted to get into the truck and go, but Ruby’s vegetable soup smelled delectable and Keeley’s mouth watered. The morning toast was a distant memory.
The bread machine popped out a perfectly browned loaf of garlic herb bread that begged to be eaten, so Keeley gave in to Ruby’s prompting and agreed they should stay for dinner. There was something comforting and cheerful about gathering around the table with the Hudson family.
Aside from Perry’s headache, he seemed to be in good spirits. Keeley enjoyed the easy interplay between the man and his children. It made her miss her own mother, Blanche, who had never quite been the same since LeeAnn’s death, either. On the few occasions when Keeley had brought Junie to see her, Blanche remained detached, watching the child as if she was a curious stranger rather than her granddaughter. At least her mom seemed happy in her assisted-living facility, with friends who looked in on her and a cousin just across the hall. Keeley faithfully mailed her a loaf of bread every month.
Perry and Mick both put a slice of Keeley’s bread in the bottom of their bowls before ladling the chunky soup over the top. They moved in such unison, she found herself laughing.
Mick looked bemused. “What?”
Ruby grinned. “She’s noticing that you two have a strange soup ritual. Cooper has commented, too. He says it’s like you eat your soup to get to the soggy prize at the bottom.” She checked the time on her phone. “Excuse me for just a minute. I want to catch him while he’s on a layover. He would have stayed after he put gas in Ginny’s motorbike, but he had to hurry to the airport. He’s taking a botany class in New York.” She could not hide the rosy glow that crept into her cheeks, nor the pride in her voice. “It’s the first time we’ll be separated overnight since we got married.” She left the table to make the call.
Keeley felt an ache in her heart at Ruby’s devotion. How would it feel to commit yourself so completely to a man? Then she considered that LeeAnn had done just the same thing. Keeley shot a look at Mick, contemplating how she’d come to trust him in the past few days, how his cheek felt when she’d kissed him. Forget it, Keeley. She would not take the risk of allowing any man close enough to divert her attention from the only thing that mattered: Junie.
Perry tapped his spoon absently on the table. “I’ve been snooping around on the internet. I still have a few connections at my disposal.”
Mick swallowed a spoonful of soup. “Find anything?”
“Nothing recent, but I did some prying into Charlie’s and Bruce’s pasts.”
Keeley could see he’d unearthed something. “What?”
“Bruce has done jail time for minor stuff, petty theft, drunk and disorderly. He bounced around the country for a while until he hooked up w
ith his brother in Texas a few years back. They were under suspicion for a while, but nothing came of it.”
Mick folded his napkin. “Under suspicion of what?”
“The cops were cracking down on chop shops.”
“Chop shops? Where they take stolen cars?” Keeley asked.
Mick nodded. “It’s a very lucrative business. Steal the cars, take them to a garage, where they’re stripped for parts and sold. Often they’re shipped out of the country, where the rules are less stringent, and it can all be done in hours.”
“They did a raid on the brothers’ Texas garage one time, but found nothing,” Perry said. “They’re smart, these brothers, and there’s nothing to indicate they’ve been involved in anything here in Oregon.”
“Nothing at all,” Mick said softly.
Nothing at all. Keeley took a steadying breath. “Are you thinking what I am, Mick?”
His eyes flicked over her face. “That Tucker went to jail for auto theft?”
“Uh-huh. That seems like a pretty big coincidence, doesn’t it? Charlie, Bruce, Tucker and Ginny may all have some connection to Quick Stop Garage. We have to go to Chief Uttley,” Keeley said. “He can’t ignore this now.”
“Agreed. He knows we’ve filled the sheriff in and that my dad has done some investigating. He won’t be able to sweep anything under the rug.”
Finally. A solid lead that might take them straight to Tucker.
They continued their meal in relative quiet until Ruby returned. She realized at once that something had changed while she was gone and demanded to be filled in. The revelation seemed to take away her appetite, and Ruby pushed the soup aside. “This is getting too dangerous. I think you two should stay here until it’s under control.”
“I can’t.” Keeley balled up her paper napkin. “I have a child to protect.”
“Bring her here,” Ruby insisted. “We’ll watch over her and you.”
Keeley saw the earnestness in Ruby’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “but I need to take care of Junie myself.”
“You can’t do it yourself,” Mick said.
Her nerves frayed. “And you can’t do it, either.”
An awkward silence settled upon them. “I’m sorry,” Keeley said. “I’m just rattled by everything that’s happened, and I want to go back.”
“Of course you do,” Ruby said. “I’m not a mother, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Keeley squeezed her hand. Sometimes I feel as if I’m not a mother, either, she thought.
*
An hour after dinner, the storm abated and Mick and Keeley said goodbye to Perry and Ruby. Ruby gave Keeley a hug and did the same for her brother.
“If there’s anything…” she said.
“I know, sis.”
Ruby smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from the front of his T-shirt and spoke in a near whisper. “I’ll be praying for you—for both of you.”
“We could use all the prayers we can get.” Mick pressed a kiss to her temple and they departed, easing the truck through the pond that had formed near the entrance gate. They encountered stopped traffic on the main road, due to a car accident.
“Wait or take a longer detour?”
She yawned. “I say the detour.”
He looped around and took a mountain road that would get them to the highway eventually. Keeley pulled her jacket around herself. Ruby had insisted on laundering Keeley’s soaking clothes so at least they were clean and dry, neatly packed in a paper bag. He flicked on the heater and adjusted the vent in her direction.
She yawned again. “You have a nice family.”
“Thank you. They’re good people.”
“And you’re good people, too,” she said sleepily.
“Wish my wife had agreed with you.” He couldn’t believe he’d just uttered those words. What was the matter with him? He fiddled with the heating vent again.
“Your sister talked about her a little.”
Great. “She’s hard on Denise.”
“She thinks you shoulder too much of the blame.”
“Oh, man.” He sighed. “Fact is, I’m a plain guy. I mean, there are eagles and falcons and such, but I’m more of a condor. You know, awkward looking, strong. Not the fancy birds that get their pictures on postcards and advertisements.”
Keeley cocked her head, the fringe of bangs falling across her forehead. “What’s wrong with plain?”
“Denise didn’t want that kind of life, and I didn’t hear it when she tried to tell me. She didn’t want to be a military wife, drive around in a beat-up truck and listen to me go on about birds. She wanted to get her PhD, live in a college town, and I guess she found a guy who wanted that, too. I understand now. I saw her how I wanted her to be, not how she was. My fault, just as much as hers.”
“But the baby,” Keeley said. “Your son.”
“My son,” he repeated. The word felt foreign on his tongue, as if he was trying to speak a language he didn’t know. “Yeah.”
Keeley reached out a hand and laid her palm on his biceps. “I think Liam would have been blessed to have you as a father.”
Mick swallowed an ache that crept up his throat. He had not thought of himself as a blessing to anyone for a long time. Thank you for saying that, he wanted to tell her, for believing that, but he could not force the words out. Instead he focused on the road, slow and steady, surprised when he felt her body pressed against his side. She’d fallen asleep, lulled by the warmth and probably exhausted by the harrowing days she’d just experienced.
Carefully, he lifted his arm and she folded against him, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her slender shoulders. He breathed in the scent of her as his warmth mingled with hers. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if Keeley was his, this strong, funny woman with the heart of a lion. They would drive places, take June to see the eagles waking up in the morning, maybe buy her a little fishing pole and teach her how to catch trout. They’d be a family, and he would do everything in his power to make them both happy.
But imagination wasn’t going to wash away the past, marked as it was by his part in LeeAnn’s death. He shut off his heart to such fantasy and focused.
Drive her home.
Keep her safe until Tucker is found.
Get out of her life.
THIRTEEN
Keeley awoke as they pulled into her driveway, disoriented to find she had been asleep on Mick’s shoulder. She jerked upright so fast her vision swam.
“Oh. Sorry, I must have drifted off.” She pushed her hair out of her face and her warm cheeks signaled she was blushing madly. “Really sorry.”
She saw the glimmer of a small smile.
“Don’t be. You were tired. Only got six hours last night.”
Her heart still beat erratically. “So why don’t you look tired? Never mind. I forgot you don’t need sleep.”
“I do, just not as much as you.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
Mick greeted Mason, who walked from his police car to the pickup. “Evening. Have a nice trip?”
Keeley thought nice was not the word she’d use for encountering Charlie and Bruce twice and losing Ginny. “We need to talk to Chief Uttley. Can you call him?”
Mason licked his lips. “He got a phone message. Had to take care of some business.”
Keeley’s heart skipped. “Who’s watching Junie?”
He raised a calming hand. “Got two cops assigned there now. They just reported in. All’s quiet. Don’t worry. Rivendale’s not going to come anywhere near her.”
Keeley tried to relax. “All right. Can you please tell Chief Uttley we need to talk to him right away?”
“Sure.” Mason walked back to his car, a shade too abruptly, she thought.
Mick got out and headed for the passenger door to open it for her, but Keeley hopped out before he got there. Bad enough she was sleeping on the man’s shoulder, for go
odness’ sake. When had she grown so comfortable with Mick Hudson?
He followed her to the door and waited for her to unlock it.
“Mick, you aren’t going to sleep in the truck again, are you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s ridiculous. Come inside and sleep on the couch, at least.”
“Truck’s fine.”
She stood in the doorway as the moonlight painted the strong planes of his face. In that light, he did not look anything like an ungainly condor, nor a hard-as-nails marine. Seeing how tenderly he’d treated his father and sister had softened her view of him. She reached out and put a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart under her palm. He looked at her hand for a moment, then, slowly, covered her fingers with his.
“Please,” she said quietly. “I am grateful that you’re here. I don’t want to be. I want to take care of it all by myself and be the whole world to Junie without help from anyone, but I can’t. I—I need you. Junie and I need you to help us out of this mess.”
He traced his fingers, rough and calloused over hers, igniting prickles along her arms.
“That was hard to say,” he said, voice low and husky.
“Yes.” She blinked back unexpected tears. “I’ve been very conscientious about shutting people out even when God opens the door and lets them in.”
He looked at her then, eyes glimmering pools of deepest shadow. “You have so much courage. More than any soldier I ever met.”
She took a deep breath and let go of a portion of her pride. “Will you please sleep in the trailer out back? I would feel so much better knowing you were there in case Tucker comes again, and I don’t like to think of you spending the night in your truck.” There. She’d said it, thrown out the feeling that had been burgeoning inside her, that small voice that kept insisting that she trust Mick Hudson.
He was silent for so long, she thought he hadn’t heard her. Embarrassment pooled in her stomach, and she’d just decided to pull her hand away, go inside and pretend she’d never said it when he grazed her fingertips with his lips and nodded. “All right. Until Tucker’s caught.”