Night Skyy

by Rich Bullock

  “It wasn’t as nice as the big house. There were dead shrubs out front, and half the porch railing was on the ground. I remember hoping the inside was fixed up.”

  “Did you go inside?” Skyy asked.

  Bailey shook her head. “It was hot that night and one of the side windows was shoved up a foot. I tiptoed around and peeked in.

  “A small lamp was on, and I saw a girl named Amine sitting on the side of a single bed. She’d turned eighteen two months before and disappeared from our group. Her head was down in her hands like she had a headache or something, but I knew it was her by the red hair. I whispered her name, and she looked up.”

  Bailey was silent for a minute, and Skyy wondered if she would continue.

  “I don’t know who was more startled. She didn’t expect to see me, and I expected to see the girl I knew before. But she didn’t look the same.” Bailey slowly shook her head. “Not at all. Both her eyes were bruised black, and her lower lip had a gash. She looked like she’d been in a car accident or something. Mostly what I remember about her was the blankness in her eyes.”

  Bailey barked a single laugh, but there was a sadness that weighted the sound, like it would fall back from the ceiling and crash around them. Skyy shifted on the couch, uncomfortable from sitting so long, but more so at what she dreaded was coming.

  “That’s when Amine told me about the other side of Gabriel’s business. No more selling flowers. Our ‘guards’ forced Amine and the others to go with the customers. Amine fit Gabriel’s business perfectly. He wanted the girls to be eighteen but look younger.” She turned a wry smile toward Skyy. “A man with scruples, I guess. Anyway, Amine filled me in on what would happen to me when I turned eighteen.”

  “Is that when you called me?” Skyy asked.

  “Yeah, that first time,” Bailey said, sitting up and hugging her knees. “I listened to your show whenever I could, but Gabriel kept us so busy I missed a lot of them. And I didn’t always have a phone. That night was rainy and cold. No one was out on the streets. My guards went to get coffee, and I was able to listen. I was planning to run away but had to skim some money first. Things were going pretty well for a while, and I thought I had a little time.”

  “What happened?”

  “A couple of weeks ago, Gabriel drove up to our compound in his gold SUV, and Olivia got out of the backseat.” Bailey turned and looked at Skyy. “She was playing with Maxie.”

  Another recruit…lured by the cute dog. Another girl who would find plentiful food, a safe place to live. Another girl who would grow to trust Gabriel, but who also faced Amine’s future—and Bailey’s. Skyy swallowed hard to keep her stomach stable. Picturing Gabriel strung up by his round parts helped.

  “I couldn’t let it happen to Olivia,” Bailey said, fierceness in her tone.

  Neither could Skyy. She wasn’t sure what she could do, but no way was she letting these girls go back. Not even if they all had to flee cross country and live in the teardrop.

  She knelt beside the girl and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m sorry,” she said into the girl’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter 26

  Skyy was finishing the never-ending dishes when a Ford Explorer with a sheriff’s department door emblem turned down the driveway and stopped outside the kitchen window. She dried her hands and made it onto the front porch as a uniformed man ascended the side steps. Bad timing had Canon at a doctor visit in Mission Peak. Ember had taken the girls to work with her at DC Auto to help organize the owner’s chaotic filing system and parts catalogs. Skyy was on her own.

  “Good morning,” he said, removing the flat-brimmed trooper’s hat he’d just settled on his head. “I’m Sheriff Derrek Cabot.”

  “Skyy Delaney,” she said, stepping forward and extending her hand. It was a move to establish some control—she’d learned that from a book about body language and interpersonal contact. However, as a woman she couldn’t come off as too aggressive. Men, especially those in uniform, didn’t like that. She gave his hand just the right pressure.

  When he held her hand a few seconds longer than she expected and gave her a small smile, Skyy knew she’d lost the advantage. Maybe he’d read the same book. This man might be sheriff in a mostly rural county, but he wasn’t a pushover.

  She invited him inside and offered coffee, which he accepted. Then they moved to the dining area.

  “Beautiful flowers,” the sheriff said as he took a seat opposite her.

  Heat reddened Skyy’s cheeks as she shifted the bouquet Canon brought her from somewhere in town. She wasn’t sure what to make of the man who had rapidly become such an integral part of her life. Only a couple of weeks ago he’d been a fantasy photo on her computer. Now—

  “I spoke with AJ Stone,” the sheriff said. “She speaks highly of you.”

  “Really?” The word was out before she could grab it back, before he raised both eyebrows. “I mean…well, we just met. We don’t really know each other.”

  Derrek Cabot smiled at her. “Her husband, Alex Stone, is former DEA. Still has friends in the right places that owe him favors—if you know what I mean.”

  “He checked me out?” Knowing her life had been sifted through by law enforcement was more than a little unnerving, but at least the sheriff hadn’t arrived brandishing handcuffs.

  Cabot chuckled. “On the other hand, if I had something to hide, I’d worry more about that daughter of theirs.”

  “Teal?”

  “She’s like a walking lie detector and computer hacker all in one. She can ferret out more in thirty minutes than my men and women can in a week.” He sipped his coffee. “She’s something, all right. I may have to hire her.”

  “So…” Skyy said, “I guess you didn’t come to arrest me?” She meant it as a joke, a continuation of breaking the ice. He shook his head but returned only the barest smile.

  As if God tracked the man’s mood, a cloud obscured the sun and transformed the cozy eating area into an interrogation room. A shiver crawled up her spine.

  Sheriff Cabot steepled his fingers and leaned across the table.

  “Tell me all you know, Miss Delaney.”

  Skyy collapsed on the sofa as soon as Cabot’s SUV turned out of the driveway. He’d filled a notebook with dates and details, and now—after Skyy called Ember to make arrangements—he was meeting the three girls at DC Coffee to garner more details.

  She tried to give him money to buy the lunch for the girls, but he wouldn’t hear of it, promising to take care of it himself. His changing moods made it difficult to predict the man. Useful in his occupation, she supposed, but it gave her a bit of emotional whiplash. Before leaving, he asked if Bailey or Olivia had been in touch with anyone since arriving.

  “Not that I know of,” she said, realizing she should have had Bailey promise not to contact anyone the second they burst into DC Coffee Friday night.

  Skyy shivered at the meaning behind the question, even as sunshine once again flooded the cabin, the rays doing their best to warm her. At least the day was warming, and the air leaking in the open kitchen window was fresh and sweet, suffused with wet pine, damp earth, and spring’s promise of new life.

  Her stomach growled, but she couldn’t eat knowing Sheriff Cabot would soon be with the girls. Even though Bailey and Olivia fled from Gabriel, they’d probably been taught to mistrust the police. Would they clam up the second they spotted his uniform? Or worse, disappear at their first opportunity.

  She rose and paced the living room, the space suddenly too small. Until a few days ago, her life had been solely in her own hands. Loser Boyfriend’s leaving had forced her to take charge. While scary at first, she had grown confident on her own, comfortable. Then Ember arrived, then Canon, now Bailey and Olivia, and suddenly she was doing breakfast dishes as everyone else took off for the day. An apron and doing laundry would come next, and that was way too domestic to contemplate.

  She needed to get out. Except for a few puffy white clouds, the skies
this morning were bright and clear. And the ATV was back under the carport and topped off with gas. She had to get back to planning life instead of accepting whatever came to her.

  Staying with Canon wasn’t a long-term solution. Although she could pay rent, his brother was half-owner of the cabin and might want to use it. And if she was going to stay at Storm Lake and explore a relationship with Canon, she needed to find a place of her own. Not that he was in any way like Loser Boyfriend, but she’d learned that lesson. A little distance meant safety—of her heart, at least.

  The air was cool and breezy outside, but Skyy’s layers topped by a sweatshirt easily kept her warm as she checked the ATV and wheeled it to the middle of the carport. She banded her hair in a ponytail and threaded it through the back of one of Canon’s ball caps, then mounted the four-wheeler. She paused when Ember drove down the driveway, parked, and climbed out.

  “The sheriff wanted to talk to the girls alone,” Ember said. “Where are you going? Do you want to take the Jeep?”

  Skyy shook her head. “You’ll need it to bring the girls home later. I just want to look around, get a feel for the town.”

  “Check out the Art Mill,” Ember said. “Teal has some artwork there. I’m grabbing lunch here, then I’ll go back and wait for the girls.” She mounted the back step, then turned. “Oh, and I have a shift at DC Coffee from four to seven. I forgot to tell you. Are you home to watch the girls tonight? I can probably change if—”

  “Ember,” Skyy sighed, “it’s not your responsibility to take care of them. And thanks for taking them with you today.”

  “I know,” she said, looking at the ground. “But they’re here because I gave Bailey our location.”

  “No,” Skyy said. “They’re here because they needed to get out of a desperate situation. If not for you, Bailey would have found somewhere else.” Or not. And that would have been the worst outcome of all.

  Ember considered that for a moment, then said, “I’m glad they chose us.” She opened the door and went inside.

  Skyy started the ATV’s engine, waiting a minute as it warmed up and smoothed out. “So am I, Ember. So am I.”

  Chapter 27

  The sheriff’s Ford was parked in front of DC Coffee when Skyy made the turn onto Main Street. She felt a little guilty driving the non-street-legal four-wheeler on the road, especially past law enforcement, but there were two similar machines nosed into the curb in the next block, and there weren’t that many cars around. Maybe off-season road rules were more lax than summer. Canon would know. He’d also know where to take Ember for her driver’s license.

  Skyy cruised by the storefronts, some of their names familiar from Ember’s exploits: Peg’s Waffle House, The Crab Shack, ViceCream, a chocolate shop, a bar called the Fish Hook, and Embers – Fine Dining.

  Skyy parked across the street from a white chapel that sat on a low, grassy mound overlooking a small marina. Sailboat masts swayed behind the chapel, rendering the scene postcard worthy. A marque sign announced Sunday service at 10:00 a.m. and had a number to call for booking weddings and special events. While she’d never been much for attending church in larger cities, it might be nice to see what this small community offered.

  After wandering through a vintage clothing shop with attached used bookstore, she inquired about the Art Mill. The woman behind the counter walked Skyy out the front door and pointed down the street.

  “See that bridge over the main road? That’s over Connor Creek that runs into the marina. Just this side of the creek and to the right, there’s a small parking area. There are signs and a great path along the creek if you want to walk. Only a quarter mile or so. Or you can drive across the bridge and turn on Old Mill Road, but it’s quite a bit longer.”

  Skyy thanked the woman. It took less than two minutes to fire up the ATV and drive the short distance to the graveled parking area. Only three cars occupied the fenced space that had room for a dozen. An oval Art Mill sign pointed up creek. She parked, pocketed the keys, and set off on foot along the path paralleling the rushing water.

  The creek—actually more of a river after all the rain—tumbled over rocks as it rushed toward the marina and lake behind her, creating an enveloping roar that bounced off the majestic oaks and sycamores growing along the banks. It felt like she was in her own private, mystical forest, alive with buzzing insects, butterflies, birds, the stream, and every surface washed clean by the rain. Skyy breathed in the smell of all things growing and lengthened her stride on the slight incline. While the desert around Tucson could provide cool, early morning hikes, it lacked the array of heady fragrances found here.

  A second sign directed her left across the creek on a footbridge, and then along a path that led around the end of a huge log building she determined was the Art Mill. Several cars and a tour bus filled the parking lot. She climbed the broad steps onto the porch and went inside.

  The high-ceilinged room was bustling with shoppers crowding around display cases of polished logs and glass. Easels and shelves held paintings, ceramics, wood carvings, and pencil drawings. Cables suspended gnarled branches from the beamed ceiling, and each horizontal piece had rows of hooks for hanging necklaces, scarves, and small canvases. The opposite wall was mostly glass and overlooked an outside deck above the creek.

  Skyy was drawn to a large watercolor of a waterfall splashing into a pool festooned with leafy ferns, flowering plants, and moss-covered boulders. The colors were bright, giving an airy, positive energy to the painting.

  “Skyy?”

  She turned at her name and found Teal standing beside her.

  “Do you like it?” Teal asked, smiling at the painting.

  “It’s stunning,” Skyy breathed, leaning forward to read the small white placard. “Desperation Falls: Salvation and Hope, by Teal Stone.” Skyy jerked her eyes to the girl beside her. “You did this?”

  Teal laughed. “It’s one of the shoppers’ favorites.”

  Skyy turned back to the painting. “I can see why.”

  “It comes in four sizes, and a wall mural is available online.” Then she pointed to a display case nearly obscured by women. “And I have some miniature pendants that I make with Mina. She owns Palomino Glass Company, and also does these amazing glass sculptures.”

  “I’ll have to meet her.” Not that Skyy could afford any of the glass works Teal pointed out. Two were inch-thick glass sheets about four feet square with scalloped, broken edges. One had the image of a beautiful mermaid, the other an angel wrapped in her own wings. They were mounted in rectangular glass basins filled with colored clear marbles and strands of tiny seed lights.

  “Mina lays out the image on the reverse side, sandblasts it, then airbrushes in the color. Everything is lit by LEDs.”

  The detail on the faces, mermaid scales, and angel feathers was so precise that from a few feet away they looked like photographs.

  “You should see the full-size angel she has up at her house on the hill. And if you ever need anyone badass to protect you, Mina’s your gal.”

  The strangeness of the statement drew Skyy’s attention away from the sculptures. She expected to see a grin. Instead, Teal’s expression was one of absolute seriousness. “I—”

  “You or the girls,” Teal interrupted. She paused a minute while two women passed by, then said, “Life isn’t all pretty butterflies and mermaids.”

  Skyy didn’t doubt it for a second, and if anyone knew from experience, it was Teal Stone.

  When the sun hid behind thickening clouds and threw the interior of the Art Mill into shadow, Skyy figured she better not push her luck. She said goodbye to Teal and promised to come back the next day and meet Mina.

  A brisk wind pushed her along the path, bending trees and sending leaves scuttling ahead. She jogged the last part to the ATV. A smattering of raindrops set her teeth chattering before she pulled even with DC Coffee. Stopping for a hot drink didn’t even tempt her. As she passed Bibs’ Beauty Barn, all she could think about was getting
to the cabin, stoking the fireplace to white-hot, and huddling in front of it for a day or two.

  Skyy twisted the throttle and the little motor revved higher. The age-old question was, would speeding up and getting out of the rain sooner keep you drier than slowing down and being in the rain longer? But with the wind and dropping temps, quicker was definitely the better option. She gritted her teeth and clinched her knees against the machine as she sped up a little more. Why was it nature conspired against her every time she ventured out on the thing?

  The single hairpin turn on the route appeared out of the mist. She braked, intending to make the sharp right and accelerate into the next straightaway. But the new rain had washed soil down the ravine, smearing a muddy slick across the pavement. The ATV’s front tires lost grip as soon as they hit it. Skyy careened across into the left lane, the machine jerking wildly as the front tires once again found clean surface and the rear tires entered the muck.

  The four-wheeler spun in a full circle, then slammed nose first into the drainage ditch on the far side of the road. Skyy catapulted over the handlebars, flipping upside down and landing on her back on the steep bank. Air burst from her lungs.

  She slid headfirst into shallow water running in the bottom of the ditch. It soaked her hair and scalp, sending chills throughout her body. A knobby rubber tire pressed into her left cheek, and pungent exhaust fumes from the idling engine burned her nostrils.

  After a few seconds of frantic panting to get her breath back, embarrassment overcame the shock of the accident and spurred her to move. She twisted sideways until she was lying fully in the ditch, feet pointing uphill. The water instantly soaked her entire right side before she struggled to her hands and knees, wheezing and coughing.

  She rested for a moment, head hanging down while muddy water dripped from her hair. Each inhale brought sharp pain in the middle of her back. A glance at where she’d landed revealed a large boulder. That it was mostly buried in the muddy bank didn’t make her spine hurt less.