by Lisa Jackson
“Butt out, Shea.”
Shea ignored her. “Listen, Mary Beth—”
“Shut up! This isn’t your fight.”
“You’re making it mine.” Shea’s eyes narrowed on his sister-in-law. “Take this somewhere private.” He turned his gaze to his brother. “Get her out of here, Robert. Before there are complaints. Before someone calls the police.”
“Aren’t you a cop?” Mary Beth taunted.
“Get her the hell out of here now.” Shea ordered. “Or I will have to do something.”
“That’s the answer, isn’t it?” Mary Beth asked, whirling on her brother-in-law. “Just hide the dirty linen in the closet, don’t let anyone know. Well, I’m not about to let some whore ruin my life or my kids’ lives. We have rights, too!”
Shannon couldn’t stand it a second longer. Stepping forward, cognizant of Travis Settler watching her every move, she said quietly, “Shea’s right. This isn’t the time or the place.”
“As if you would know anything about it!”
“Think of the kids.”
“Like he does?” she said, jerking her arm away from Robert’s grip. Tears were running from her eyes now, mascara streaking her face. “Like you do?” She glared at Shannon as Liam moved in closer to stand on the driver’s side of the silver car. “That’s the trouble with you Flannerys! You only think of yourselves. You don’t know what it’s like to have a child, to actually raise a kid, to put someone else before yourself!” she accused, her face twisted in pain and hatred. “And when your husband gave you some trouble, did you just shut up about it, huh? No way.” She pointed a finger at Shannon. “You found a way to get rid of him, didn’t you? Ryan ended up dead. Burned to a goddamned crisp!”
“That’s enough!” Robert hissed.
Shannon stared in impotent fury at the raving woman. Mary Beth was wounded, angry, and wasn’t going to be satisfied until she’d scratched and clawed at everyone associated with her unfaithful husband.
“Get her out of here,” Shea insisted.
Aaron, heretofore lagging behind, put an arm around Mary Beth’s shoulders.
“Don’t touch her,” Liam warned.
“Put a lid on it!” Aaron snapped back, then more quietly to Mary Beth, “Hey, MB, you don’t want to be doing this. Let me take you home. We’ll pick up your kids at Margaret’s.”
For a second she seemed to comply. Then a semi rolled past and Mary Beth’s head snapped up. “You sick son of a bitch!” She shook off his arm. “Forget it! You’re the worst of the lot, Aaron, and that’s saying something. And don’t try to hit on me!”
“What?” Aaron seemed stunned.
“The dumb-shit routine doesn’t work, either. You’ve tried to get me into the sack for years.”
“God, Mary Beth, listen to yourself,” Aaron said uneasily but Robert’s flash point temper took control of things.
“That does it!” he said to his wife. “Get in the damned car.” Robert opened the passenger door of his sports car.
“Why?”
“We’ll talk, okay? Just get the fuck inside.”
“Don’t do it,” Liam advised.
Mary Beth appeared about to balk but at that moment the motel manager opened the door of the office and stepped into the parking lot. A squat man about as wide as he was tall, with an obvious comb-over across his bald pate, he glowered at the group huddled near the car. Pointing at Travis Settler, he yelled, “Is there a problem out there? I don’t want none of it, y’hear? Take your troubles somewhere else, or I’ll call the police.” His tiny eyes focused on Robert and Mary Beth. “I’m not kidding! Now get the hell out!”
Robert glowered at his wife. Mary Beth, tight-lipped, her face a mess, slid into the open door of the car, muttering something about “hating to sit where the slut’s ass had been.” Robert slammed the door closed, then walked briskly to the driver’s side, reaching into his pocket for his keys. Quickly, as if he was afraid she’d escape, he slid behind the wheel. Within seconds the engine caught and roared as he stepped on the gas. Without a look over his shoulder, he accelerated out of the parking lot, leaving the rest of them to stare after his taillights as they disappeared around the next corner.
“Fuck!” Liam cast one scathing glance at the Flannerys and headed back to his black Jeep. Within seconds he was in the vehicle and had thrown it into reverse, narrowly missing the fender of a minivan. He jammed his rig into DRIVE and with a screech of tires, sped out of the lot.
“What’s his deal?” Aaron asked, staring after the Jeep.
“Who knows?” Shannon couldn’t begin to understand anyone in Ryan’s family. She glanced at Travis Settler but the man was keeping his own counsel.
“Mary Beth’s a head case,” Aaron muttered, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He jabbed one filter tip between his lips. “I never so much as came on to her once.” He fired up the cigarette and shot a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. A drizzle of sweat ran down the side of his face, through one sideburn. “A bona fide nut.”
“Always has been.” Shea shot a look at Travis Settler. “Guess you got a bird’s-eye view of the inner workings of the Flannery family. Sometimes, it’s just not pretty.”
“All families have their problems,” Travis said dismissively.
“Yeah, well, we have more than our share of crackpots.” Shea tried to shepherd Shannon into his truck, but she turned to Travis and reminded him, “Dani’s things?”
“Right.” He started for his truck. “Just give me a second.”
When he was out of earshot, Shea muttered, “I don’t think you want to get involved in this, Shannon.”
“I already am.”
“You don’t know anything about this guy.”
“I know he’s my baby’s father and that she’s in danger. That’s enough.” She saw another protest forming on her brother’s lips, but whatever he was about to say he kept to himself. Which was great. She was tired, getting cranky, and embarrassed by Mary Beth’s public display. And that didn’t begin to touch on her anger for her other brother. She wanted to strangle Robert.
Travis jogged back to them and offered up a red hooded sweatshirt and a CD case. “It’s all I’ve got with me,” he explained.
“Hopefully it’s enough, but only if we have some clue as to where Dani is or has been,” Shannon said. “Come by my place tomorrow and we’ll figure out a plan.”
“What?” Aaron asked. Shannon sent him a look guaranteed to cut through granite and he bit back anything further.
“I will,” he promised and Shannon, her daughter’s things in hand, climbed into Shea’s rig.
“If you’re going to do this, let’s do it right,” Shea suggested, digging in the back of his truck. He found a couple of clear plastic bags and Shannon placed the items inside them.
She doubted that her daughter was anywhere near the area, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to try and help, even in a small way.
Shea slid behind the wheel, Shannon occupied the middle and Aaron squeezed in beside her, muttering about Mary Beth under his breath as he slammed the door shut. “What gets into her?” he growled.
Shannon just wanted to forget the whole mortifying experience. Though she was far from completely trusting Travis Settler, she’d rather he wasn’t a witness to any more of her family’s private dealings. She didn’t want him to know too much about her. For reasons she didn’t completely understand she thought any knowledge he had of her might be dangerous. He’s not the enemy, her mind insisted, but she wasn’t so sure. She was weary and worried and just wanted to go home.
But she couldn’t help peering into the rearview mirror as Shea drove away from the motel. She caught Settler’s image in the reflective slice of glass and her heart thudded uncomfortably.
Tall, with long, jean-clad legs, some kind of running shoes and a knit shirt stretched across his wide shoulders, Settler stood feet apart, arms crossed over his chest. The dome light of the porch
area in front of his motel room illuminated his head, showing off the streaks of blond in his otherwise light brown hair. It was unkempt, a little shaggy and fell over his forehead. His countenance was hard, etched in worry. Intense blue eyes stared after the truck, and she imagined his gaze found hers in the mirror. Which was just plain silly. There was no way he could see into the darkened interior of the pickup’s cab.
But her last look at him in the reflection burned deep into her mind: broad shoulders, steely jaw, intensity radiating from him in sharp, sexy waves.
As they’d sat at the table in the restaurant she would have had to be blind not to notice the sharp angles and planes in his face, or the way his skin was tan and weathered. She sensed he was tough, and she imagined if he smiled, it would cut a woman to her soul. But he’d been tense. Worried. The one thing on his mind was finding his daughter. Which only made him more attractive to her.
Attractive?
Lord, what was she thinking?
It had to be the pain meds.
Or the shock of meeting the adoptive father of her child.
Or seeing pictures of the child her infant had become.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t find Travis Settler sexy or attractive or any of the above. So he was intent on saving their…his…her child. So he’d helped her that night when someone had beaten her so savagely. So he was handsome and sexy as all get-out. But she had to remember: He was the enemy. He’d admitted to spying on her, to thinking she’d somehow abducted Dani.
If he only knew how she really felt about her child.
She closed her eyes and her mind to any other ludicrous thoughts about him; they had absolutely no place there.
Shea cracked his window and the dash lighter clicked.
Shannon leaned her head against the headrest and felt overwhelmingly weary. Her body ached and her mind was reeling. As the outskirts of Santa Lucia flashed past the windows and the conversation between her two brothers swirled around her in clouds of cigarette smoke, she closed her eyes and silently fought the headache that had been building.
Meeting Travis Settler, talking to him and knowing he was the father of her daughter had been difficult, but harder yet had been viewing the pictures of her child. Even now she was shaking inside. She’d eyed those small images and tried to burn them into her mind, but all the while, as she’d viewed the progression of her daughter from infant to teenager, she’d felt this tremendous pain that was as much like loneliness as anything she could name.
You should have kept her. You should have been able to watch her grow up, be a part of her first Christmas. You should have helped her ride a bicycle and a horse, taught her respect for animals. She should have had her First Communion in St. Theresa’s where you’d had yours. You should have been holding her on your lap for the photographer, not Travis Settler’s wife. Your daughter should have known her uncles and grandparents and most of all you, Shannon Flannery, should have protected her. From this. From whatever horror she is now enduring.
The headache raged and her throat was so thick she could barely swallow. Where was Dani, that little, red-faced, screaming baby Shannon had so reluctantly given away? Was she alive? Waiting for her father or the police to save her? Or had the unthinkable already happened?
Oh, God. Don’t think like that. Do not think like that. She’s alive. Travis will find her and you, damn it, will help him! You owe your daughter that much!
The pickup bounced over a bump in the road and a jolt of pain blasted through her ribs. The headache she’d fought all day pounded at the base of her skull. She needed to get home, to down some more painkillers and sleep for about a hundred hours.
Then she could face the mess that was her life.
And Travis Settler?
And the whereabouts of his—your daughter?
The dull throb in her head increased.
She’d nearly lost the thread of her brother’s conversation, but then she heard Mary Beth’s name again.
“A bitch,” Aaron pronounced.
“Psycho…just like the rest of her family,” Shea agreed. “Look at Liam and Kevin.”
“Yeah, what the fuck was Liam doing with her tonight?”
“Moral support,” Shannon said.
Aaron snorted and streams of smoke shot from his nose. “From him? The guy has the morals of all of the devil’s disciples thrown together.”
Silently Shannon agreed as the town gave way to rolling countryside. At least about the psycho part of the Carlyles. Ryan’s cousins Liam and Kevin were known for their mercurial tempers. Their flash points were quick to ignite and when they did, all hell broke loose. How often, during her marriage to Ryan, had she witnessed the Carlyle brothers’ wrath at family gatherings?
The conversation lagged and Shannon realized that Aaron must’ve asked her a question while she’d been lost in thought about her ex-in-laws.
“What?”
“So, I asked, are you buyin’ Settler’s story? That he just happened to be at the fire?” Aaron repeated.
“I don’t know what to think,” she admitted.
Shea braked for a corner. “Me neither.”
“I’m not through checkin’ him out. I think there’s more goin’ on with our buddy from Oregon. Hell of a coincidence, him coming all the way from some little town in northern Oregon and landing here, at Shannon’s, the night the place gets torched. I don’t like it.”
“Me neither,” Shea agreed.
Aaron had a point, she thought. It did seem more than a little coincidental that Travis Settler was at her place on the night of the fire. But being with him tonight, witnessing his fear, his desperation, his grief for his daughter, she didn’t think he would set an intentional fire. And he hadn’t been around when she’d received the burned birth certificate. He might be a lot of things…But she doubted that he was the arsonist. Thinking of him, she felt a dozen conflicting emotions for the steely jawed man who had raised her child.
Shea slowed the truck and the wheels turned off the county road. Opening one eye to a slit, Shannon spied the trees guarding her lane, the gnarled trunks visible in the splash of illumination from the Dodge’s headlights. Soon, she’d be in her own bed. It seemed like eons since she’d slept in the upstairs room of her little cottage, a home she’d once shared with her husband. Ryan. He was long dead now. She was sorry for the pain his death caused his family, but she wasn’t sorry that he was no longer a part of her life.
“And don’t forget Margaret. Another nut job,” Aaron said as he squashed his cigarette into the ashtray. Shannon didn’t want to think any more about any of Ryan’s cousins tonight. They were a close-knit, clannish family. Years ago, before her marriage to Ryan and before Robert had asked Mary Beth to be his wife, they’d all gone to school together at Saint Theresa’s. The Flannerys and Carlyles had often been friends, always acquaintances.
Until she’d made the mistake of marrying one of them.
She looked at the garage, saw the light in Nate’s apartment burning in the night and felt a bit of relief. The shed was a pile of ash and rubble and would be for a while, but she didn’t dwell on the loss. At least none of the other buildings had gone up in flames.
Because whoever did this didn’t want them to…He has a purpose. Remember the weird symbol with the number six in its middle. And never forget that he might have Dani as well.
The door over the garage opened and Nate, boots clattering on the steps, hurried down the exterior stairs. With his long strides, he was across the lot before Shea had cut the engine. Beside him, bounding to keep up with Nate’s brisk pace, was Khan.
Shannon’s heart nearly broke with happiness.
God, she’d missed the dog.
Aaron slid out of the truck, then helped Shannon land carefully on her feet. Khan let out a happy yip as he shot to her side, whining and wiggling, his tail swiping the air frantically and banging against the open door of the truck. Shannon leaned over and scratched him behind his ears and along his back.
“I’m glad to see you, too,” she said to the wriggling mass of fur.
“He’s been miserable without you. Damned thing whined day and night. Kept wanting to go into the house and search for you. I obliged him a couple of times, then decided he’d just have to tough things out.” Nate was serious, his blue eyes dark with the night. “So, how’re you doing?”
“Been better,” she said, forcing a smile. “Actually I’ve been a lot better.”
Aaron climbed down from the cab. “I think Shannon should get her rest. You’ll be here?”
“Yep.”
Aaron didn’t comment as he and Shea walked Shannon and the galloping dog into the house. But then they started arguing about who should stay with her.
“No one!” she finally had to shout after suggesting twice that she’d be okay. “Nate’s next door and you’re both a phone call away.”
“I’d feel better if someone was in the house with you. How about Lily?” Shea suggested.
Shannon exhaled a puff of air. “Lily’s got a husband and three cats. You,” she pointed a tired finger at Shea, “have a wife who barely sees you as it is, and Aaron, you and I both know that if you were to stay here we’d be at each other’s throats in twenty minutes. Really, I’ll be fine,” she said, showing them the door. They grumbled and looked unhappy, but they finally headed back to Shea’s truck.
As soon as they were gone Shannon bolted the front door, then she pulled the poster of Dani Settler out of her pocket. Staring at the picture she felt something shift in her soul.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered. “Where are you?” She gazed tenderly at the image of the fresh-faced girl. She had to be alive. Had to. Surely God wouldn’t tease her this way by offering her a glimpse of her child only to snatch her away.
“Please let her be safe,” she whispered and, for the first time in half a dozen years, made the sign of the cross over her chest.