by N L Hinkens
She glanced up at a sharp rap on the passenger window. Ray opened the door, tossed a black bag into the back and slid into the seat next to her, shaking his hair like a drowned dog. The drooping bags under his eyes only added to his weather-beaten look. He didn’t appear to be sleeping well.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “It took longer than I expected to get an Uber.”
“Are you sure you still want to do this? It’s dumping pretty hard,” Sonia said. “I’m happy to take you another day when the weather’s better.”
“It’s supposed to clear up a little later,” Ray replied. ”Besides, I came prepared with my boots and waterproof rain gear. I really want to do this today.”
“Your call,” Sonia said with a shrug as she put the car in gear and pulled out of her parking spot. She set the wipers to maximum speed, but it made no difference to the visibility. Hopefully, Ray’s prediction about the weather was right. She didn’t like driving in heavy rain. Nevertheless, she’d volunteered to help him and she was determined to see this through. She was as eager as Ray was for answers. “Any new memories since?” she asked, reaching for her coffee.
Ray frowned, staring straight ahead as though wrestling with how to answer. “I think that trail I highlighted on the map leads to a cabin—my brother’s cabin, to be precise.”
Sonia’s jaw dropped. “What? Tom’s … alive? Are you sure?”
Ray interlaced his hands and rested them in front of him. “As sure as I can be. I remember hiking up to his cabin. I can see every detail in my mind. I’m pretty sure that’s where the fight happened. I told you I knocked someone out, right?”
Sonia gave a perturbed nod. “You said you thought you did.”
“I was half-afraid I’d killed my father—believe me, I thought about it enough growing up,” Ray went on. “But it’s Tom’s face my fist slams into every time the images come to mind now.”
“But you thought Tom was dead,” Sonia said. “How did you find him?”
“I must have found the coordinates to his cabin when I was going through our mother’s stuff. Evidently, I drove out there and confronted him about … something.” Ray turned and stared out the side window into the battleship-gray morning that stretched out in every direction like a seething ocean.
”Are you sure it’s wise going back up there if you two were throwing punches?” Sonia asked.
Ray smoothed a hand over his jaw. ”I don’t have a choice. Our mother’s wishes were that the estate be divided equally between the two of us. I need to talk to him to figure out how we’re going to handle the money.”
“Do you think that’s what you were arguing about?” Sonia asked.
Ray’s expression darkened. “That would be my guess. I probably hit him up about the money he was siphoning from our mother’s account. I keep thinking the only thing he could have been using it for was drugs or alcohol. Maybe I even accused him of being an addict and wanted him to give me power of attorney. He might have thought I was trying to screw him out of his rightful share. Who knows what was said? I just need to get back up there and sort things out with him.”
“I hope you’re not making a mistake. You could do this through lawyers, you know,” Sonia said. “It doesn’t sound like Tom wants anything to do with you.”
Ray shifted uneasily in his seat. “I have to try and reach out to him again. We were close as kids. Tom’s all I’ve got left.”
Sonia narrowed her eyes at him. “What about your son?”
“Well, yes, of course I have … Henry,” Ray said hastily. “I meant, you know … Tom’s all I have left from my past. He and I went through a lot together.”
“What if he won’t listen to reason? He might pull out a gun or something.”
Ray gave a sad shake of his head. “Tom and I were best buddies once. We can work this out.”
Sonia slid him a discreet glance, hearing a wobble in his voice. “So, tell me more about the cabin,” she said brightly.
Ray squeezed his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. ”I can see it clearly in my mind. It’s a small log cabin, built by hand—Tom’s a good craftsman. Completely off grid. No running water, no sewer, no power, no modern amenities whatsoever. We always talked about doing stuff like that as kids, but I was never as handy or outdoorsy as he was.” He paused before continuing, ”I can’t remember much about the trail to the cabin. I recall getting hopelessly lost, going in circles at one point. Thankfully, I bumped into a hunter who took me the rest of the way to Tom’s place. I think he might have lived up there somewhere too. Big guy, all kitted out with a rifle and a wicked-looking knife.”
They fell silent for a while, listening to the rain pounding on the roof. Before long, they found themselves turning onto the gravel road that led to the Deep Creek Campground marked on the map. It turned out to be little more than a root-ridden dirt parking lot replete with an outhouse, a couple of fire pits and a bear-proof trashcan. Sonia switched off the engine and turned to Ray. ”Looks like the rain is easing up a bit. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I need to be alone so I can think. You don’t have to wait here, either,” Ray replied. “Why don’t you drive back to the main road and find a café or something where you can hole up and stay warm?” He pulled out his phone and frowned at it. ”No service. Let’s just plan on meeting back here in four hours. It will take me about an hour to hike up to the cabin and an hour to hike back so that still gives me two hours to talk some sense into Tom.”
Sonia gestured to her portfolio lying on the back seat. ”I brought my work with me. I don’t mind hanging out here.” She quirked a grin. “Trust me, I rarely get this kind of solitude to work in.”
Ray reached into the back and tugged his pack out by the strap. His eyes raked over her face. “It’s pretty isolated here. Don’t talk to strangers.”
Sonia swallowed hard as she watched him climb out of the car and disappear into the rain.
But you’re a stranger.
20
Out of sight of Sonia’s car, Ray pulled out his handheld GPS and turned it on. He hadn’t wanted her looking over his shoulder to see where he was going—he couldn’t take the chance that she might decide to follow him. Just because she’d agreed to drive him out here didn’t mean she trusted him. He suspected Evelyn was filling her head with suspicions about him at every opportunity. Not that he could fault Evelyn for wanting to protect her daughter. After all, Henry had been saying some very disturbing things that he needed to get to the bottom of. First, he had to deal with Tom.
As soon as the bars on the device turned green, confirming he’d picked up a satellite signal, he punched in the coordinates for the cabin. Seconds later, the GPS located his position, and he saved it as a waypoint for his return trip down the mountain. He had no intention of getting lost up here a second time. He grimaced when he pictured the impending encounter with his brother. Hopefully this visit would go better than the last one.
Bracing himself against the rain, he set out along the programmed route. Progress was frustratingly slow, the earth churning beneath his boots as the elevation grew more challenging. As he hiked, he went over in his mind what he was going to say to Tom. More than anything, he wanted a relationship with his brother. But was that even realistic if what he feared most was true? He had told Sonia he was afraid Tom might be a drug addict or an alcoholic, but that wouldn’t stop Ray from trying to help him. On the other hand, if he had had something to do with Katie Lambert’s disappearance, all bets were off. Ray’s initial thought on seeing her driver’s license in his backpack was that he had been involved. But the other possibility was equally disturbing—that the brother he’d believed was dead all these years was alive, and a monster. If Ray had found the license at Tom’s cabin and questioned him about it, that would have been reason enough for them to have fought.
Then again, he could be jumping to the worst conclusion unnecessarily. Tom might have stumbled across the license when he was out hunting
. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Katie Lambert’s abductor might have been searching for a remote location to dump her body. But, if that was the case, why hadn’t Tom turned the license over to the police? Was it possible his brother didn’t know about the missing girl—living the secluded life that he did? Maybe he thought a hiker had dropped it. Or maybe he had his own reasons for wanting to avoid law enforcement. Ray frowned to himself as he pondered the possibilities. Wherever the truth lay, he had to face it. He had to know if he or his brother had done the unthinkable.
Halfway to the cabin, he searched out a fallen tree to rest on. He pulled out his Hydro Flask and took a long draught of water. He was still bruised from the accident, and already feeling the effort of the climb. Thankfully, he’d allowed plenty of time, knowing he might struggle in his weakened state. He only hoped Tom would be reasonable once he got there—he certainly wasn’t in any condition to fight him again. His thirst temporarily quenched, he stashed his canteen in his pack and got to his feet, determined to finish what he’d started.
The second half of the climb proved more challenging, but his efforts were rewarded when the rustic cabin he remembered finally came into sight. He approached slowly, not wanting to startle his brother and risk facing down the barrel of a shotgun.
”Tom, are you in there?” he called out in a loud voice. “It’s me, Ray.”
He walked up to the front door and banged his fist on it.
“Tom, it’s your brother, Ray. We need to talk.”
He waited for a minute or two, then tented his fingers over his eyes and squinted through the dirty window to the right of the door. There was no sign of his brother inside, and the fire was unlit. Surely, he wouldn’t be out in this dismal weather. Ray tried the door, surprised to discover it was unlocked—but then crime was hardly a consideration this far off the beaten path. Other than the occasional stranded hiker, it was unlikely Tom ran into too many strangers.
Ray threw back his hood and stepped inside, peering warily around the dark space. He doubted Tom was wandering around in the woods. It was too wet to go hunting, but it was possible he might have gone into town. If he’d discovered that his monthly payment hadn’t gone through, he might even be trying to call their mother. Ray frowned to himself, trying to recall if he’d cancelled the phone service at the house, yet. He remembered making a list of tasks to take care of, but some of the details leading up to the accident were still lost in the lingering fog in his mind.
He shrugged off his backpack and tossed it on the floor. Damp and shivering, he sank down in a rocking chair and stretched out his legs to catch his wind. He could afford to hang around for an hour or so. With a bit of luck, Tom would come strolling through the door at any minute. If nothing else, he could rest and dry out a bit before hiking back down to the car. He was tempted to light a fire, but Tom mightn’t take kindly to that level of intrusion, given the hostile terms they’d parted on.
Ray cast a curious glance around the interior of the cabin. He could sit here killing time, or he could do a little digging in Tom’s absence. Intrusive or not, this was the best opportunity he might have to search the cabin and see if there was anything in it linking his brother to Katie Lambert’s disappearance. If Tom was involved, he wasn’t likely to cop to it if Ray confronted him.
Beginning with the rustic loft bed, Ray patted all along the logs and stuck his fingers in every cobwebby chink—going so far as to squeeze the seams of the bedding to make sure nothing had been stitched into it. After retreating down the ladder, he searched inside the storage bench, and rummaged through the pockets of a fur coat and a leather hunting pack hanging on a rack by the door. In the kitchen area, he opened all the tin canisters on the carved shelf above the table to check the contents; coffee, tobacco, flour, and dried beans—nothing untoward. Next, he felt for loose stones in the fireplace, and ran his hand over the mantle, dislodging a small can of Grizzly chewing tobacco in the process. He cracked it open and took a whiff, pulling back in disgust. Tom’s teeth must be yellow and rotten after years of gnawing on this stuff. Ray wrinkled his brow, trying to remember if his brother had any teeth left at all. But he could only picture his gnarled beard and the smoldering anger in his eyes as they’d exchanged blows.
He was about to return to his seat when he heard footsteps approaching the cabin. His chest tightened. He threw a panicked glance around the small space. Too late to hurry back outside and act as if he’d been waiting patiently for Tom’s return. Bracing himself for a confrontation, he took up a nonchalant position next to the fireplace and waited anxiously for the door to open. Minutes ticked by and Ray wet his lips nervously, wondering what Tom was doing. He could hear him shuffling around. Did he realize someone was inside his house?
Ray rubbed his jaw, weighing his options. He needed to make his presence known. If he waited any longer, it would look like he’d been trying to hide. He quieted his breathing and slipped out of the cabin, only to find himself looking into the brooding eyes of an imposing stranger. He took a step backward, momentarily caught off guard. The bushy-bearded, mountain man staring back at him looked vaguely familiar.
“Who … who are you?” Ray stuttered.
The man’s brows shot up. ”You’re having me on, right?”
“I mean, I feel like I should know you—“ Ray broke off and gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry. I … just got out of hospital. I suffered a concussion. It affected my memory.”
The man leaned a hand against the side of the cabin, a curious gleam in his eyes. “You really don’t recognize me?”
“No, I’m sorry. Should I?”
“I’m Buck.” He stepped closer, the hard edge leaving his voice. “You’re Ray Jenkins, Tom’s older brother. I bumped into you a couple of weeks back.”
Ray rubbed his forehead as it suddenly dawned on him who he was talking to. “Of course! You led me to the cabin.”
Buck dipped his head in acknowledgement, eying Ray as if he was waiting on him to say something else.
Ray cleared his throat and gestured sheepishly at the cabin door. ”I don’t suppose you know where Tom is. I need to talk to him, but I only have an hour or two before I have to head back down the mountain.”
Buck smoothed out his bushy mustache, his eyes firmly latched on Ray’s. “We’d best go inside and talk.”
”I … don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ray said, scratching the back of his head. “Tom mightn’t be too happy to find us making ourselves at home in his cabin.”
“Trust me, Tom won’t say nothing about it one way or the other,” Buck replied.
Trying to mask his reluctance, Ray walked back inside. He took a seat on the storage bench and motioned to Buck to take the rocking chair. Ignoring him, Buck slung his pack onto the floor and walked over to the fireplace. He stared down at the ashes for what seemed like forever before turning to Ray. “What do you remember about your last visit here?”
Ray shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share with Buck about what had gone down, although, it was possible Tom had confided in him—Ray had no idea if the two men were close friends or merely casual acquaintances. At any rate, he had no desire to air his dirty laundry with a stranger if it could be avoided. “Not much, to be honest. Like I said, I’m recovering from a concussion. I had an accident a few days ago—totaled my truck and ended up in the hospital.”
Buck folded his arms in front of his chest, and tucked his fingers into his armpits, giving Ray the impression he was about to be reprimanded.
“Are you telling me you don’t remember the fight?” Buck asked, in a scathing tone.
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a fight, exactly.” Ray pulled his brows together, a flush creeping up his neck. “We did get into a bit of a heated argument. Our mother passed away recently, and we were trying to sort out her affairs.”
“You punched Tom square in the jaw,” Buck said, his voice dripping scorn. “Any way you skin it, that’s a fight
in these parts.”
Ray gave a resigned shrug. ”Okay, so we fought. But, I only remember bits and pieces. I can’t even remember what we were fighting about. You probably know more than me. It sounds like Tom’s already told you the whole story.”
Buck moved his jaw slowly side-to-side. ”He didn’t have to. I saw it for myself.”
Ray frowned, racking his brain for any memory of Buck being there with them. “I don’t remember that. If you were there, why didn’t you try and stop us?”
“It was all over by the time I walked in. Tom was out cold on the floor.”
Ray twisted his lips in an apologetic grimace. “I’ve no idea why I lost my cool like that. I really regret punching him. That’s why I’m here. I need to make amends. Tom’s all I’ve got left—well, other than my son.”
Buck threw him a sharp look, a glint of morbid fascination in his eyes. “Where is your son?”
Ray blinked, surprised by the question. ”He’s with my neighbor.”
Buck turned abruptly and walked over to the rocking chair. He sank down in it with a distracted air, staring off into a corner of the cabin.
“Do you happen to know where Tom is?” Ray prodded. “If he went into town, there’s not much point in me waiting around—“
“He didn’t,” Buck cut in.
“Okay,” Ray said, trying to curb his frustration at the man’s increasingly clipped tone. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
Buck scowled. ”He’s not coming back, Ray. You killed him.”