Divine Trilogy

by Cheryl Kaye Tardif

  "I'll take care of him too."

  She shivered. "Why? Just answer me that."

  A few feet behind her, she heard the soft crunch of twigs.

  Then he said, "I loved your mother, you know."

  She wanted to throw up.

  "She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever known. And so gifted."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You know exactly what I mean, Jasmine. She was just like you."

  Jasi spun on one heel. "How was she like me?"

  Paxton smiled. "She was psychic. She could see the future."

  "I don't believe you."

  "Your father couldn't keep such things from me. I'm his best friend. I knew all about your mother. Don't you know how valuable that made her? She knew things, important things."

  "So you planned to use her. For what? To make you rich? Famous?"

  "We could have had everything, Cali and I. Except she refused to see a future with me in it."

  "You can't force someone to love you."

  He ignored her. "And you—I've been watching you, following your progress."

  "I know you're a PSI with the CFBI," he added.

  "That's a top-secret division."

  "I'm a cop. I have access to information. There's not much I don't know." He waved his gun. "Keep moving."

  After a few yards, Jasi said, "Did you have an affair with my mother?"

  "I would have, if she'd chosen me. I wanted Cali more than anything. Especially after she saw my future."

  "Did she see this?"

  "She saw a celebration in my honor. I'll be rewarded for my achievements. Nothing can stop that."

  Jasi squeezed the doll in her hand, wanting to chuck it at him. "What achievements, Uncle Paxton? All I see is a washed-up cop who's about to commit murder." She paused. "Speaking of which, we saw the tarp and tape in the boathouse. Who's your victim? It can't be me, because you had no idea I'd find you here."

  The light on the ground stopped moving.

  Behind her, Paxton said, "Turn around."

  She obeyed, squinting as his flashlight skimmed her face.

  "You look like Cali," he said. "She was always so full of life and joy. She made everyone around her happy."

  "Tell me about her. You owe me that much."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Did she have cancer?"

  "What?"

  "When she was in the hospital."

  "I don't know where you got that idea."

  "You said it was a sad time. What did you mean?"

  "I'm talking about the baby she lost."

  Jasi gasped. "Baby? Oh God." She gawked at him, praying the baby hadn't been his. "Why wouldn't Pop tell me?"

  "He didn't want to dwell on it. It was better that way."

  "Better because…"

  "Just better. For everyone."

  The woods opened up to a dirt road. Paxton's burgundy Ford was parked a few yards away.

  "Not many people know about this access road," he said. "It leads around the opposite side of the lake and onto the highway."

  With her hands in the air, Jasi paused and faced him. "So you're going to shoot me and take off?"

  "I'm going to climb into my truck and leave." He gave her a sad smile. "I'd take you with me, but that would get too messy. Your father's probably going to hunt me down anyway."

  "Does he know how you felt about my mother?"

  Paxton shrugged. "Don't know. But she felt something for me too. I could tell. We could've had a great life together, me and her."

  "My mother saw you as Pop's friend, nothing more."

  "You don't know anything."

  "I know you're a weak coward who was in love with a woman who never loved him back."

  "Go to hell," he snarled.

  "I've already been there. The day you murdered my mother."

  Paxton blinked, his mouth hanging open.

  "I've finally put it together, Uncle Paxton. The clues were there all along, but I didn't want to see them. I was there that day, hiding in the closet. But you knew that, didn't you? Pop told you afterward. That's why you spent so much time with me when I was a kid. You wanted to ensure that I'd never remember that day." She glared at him. "That I'd never see the fun, cool uncle as what he really was—a murderer."

  "You think you're so smart." His face contorted into an evil grin. "You have no idea."

  "I saw your shoes. I recognized them as being like Pop's, but I never thought they'd be yours. You kept them polished to a mirror shine, but you had a bad habit of kicking the table legs with them, scuffing the tips. That's what I saw that day."

  "It doesn't matter anymore. Cali's gone. I hadn't planned it, but she wouldn't give me what I wanted."

  "That's what I don't understand. Why did you want me when I was a child and then brush me off when I grew up?"

  "I wanted you and your mother. We could've done great things together, especially if you had the gift of foresight like she did." He sighed. "But that's not your gift. Once I learned that you only read arson fires, you became useless to me. Sad thing is, Cali never saw her own future. Maybe if she had, things would've been different. I loved her to the core."

  Jasi's eyes burned. "You shot her and left her to bleed out on the floor. That's what you call love?"

  "You have to let go of the past, Jasmine."

  She opened her hand.

  "What have you got there?" he asked.

  "This doll was part of a dollhouse Pop bought me. I found it in a jacket in your boathouse. Why did you take it?"

  Paxton visibly swallowed. "I-I don't know."

  "I think you do."

  "Enough talking." He pointed the gun at the ground in front of her. "On your stomach."

  "So you can shoot me in the back?"

  "Just do it.

  Releasing a nervous breath, she knelt on the ground and rested her hands on her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement in the trees. Brandon!

  She had to stall Paxton.

  "Who's the tarp for, Uncle Paxton?"

  He didn't answer. Instead he released the safety on the handgun.

  "You're going after him, aren't you?" she pressed. "Whoever this person is. It's not Lazarus because you know he's dead. Did you know the other hunt club members? Gathmann perhaps. He's dead too. So who's your target?"

  "You ask too many questions. Trust me, you won't like my answers."

  "Try me."

  Before he could answer, Brandon stepped from behind a cedar. "Lower your gun, Helling."

  "Can't do that. Sorry."

  "Don't force me to shoot you in front of her."

  "I'm a cop, kid. I'll put two bullets in her before you have me in your sights."

  A single blast shot through the air.

  Instinctively, Jasi ducked and rolled, pulling her gun from the shoulder holster. When she raised her head, Paxton was sprawled on the ground, one hand clenched to his chest.

  Brandon kicked away Paxton's gun. "I only needed one bullet."

  Jasi stood, her legs shaking. Pointing her gun at Paxton, she inched closer with caution, taking in the pallor of his face and the red stain blossoming across his chest. "Call it in, Brandon. He needs an ambulance. Tell the paramedics we'll meet them at the cabin."

  Brandon lifted the man in his arms, and she led him through the woods.

  "Set him down on the picnic table," she said when they reached the front yard.

  Paxton moaned.

  "I'll find something to help stop his bleeding," Brandon said.

  While he went inside, she removed her leather jacket, rolled it up and pressed it against Paxton's blood-soaked chest.

  "Why bother?" he asked, his eyes filled with pain.

  "Because this is what's right. I'm bringing you in. You're going to pay for your crimes, and you're going to tell Pop what you did." Her voice broke. "He needs closure. We all do."

  "You'll never find the closure you're looking for."

  "I think we ju
st have. All these years we've wondered why someone would break into our home for no apparent reason, kill my mother and take nothing. Pop blamed himself for not being home that day."

  "I knew he was taking Brady out for his birthday ice cream. Your father's so predictable. But I don't think he ever realized how lucky he was. He had the family I always wanted."

  "You were part of our family," she sobbed. "We all trusted you, loved you. You were my Uncle Paxton. I used to play with Barbies on your back deck. Remember? You picked them up at a yard sale just for me."

  "Yard sale, yeah."

  "Then where'd you get them from?"

  He coughed, spewing up blood.

  "Where?" she cried.

  "Your sister."

  31

  "I don't have a sister," Jasi snapped.

  Paxton tried to laugh. "Don't you?"

  Her head throbbed. None of this made sense. "You said the baby died."

  "That's what I told them. I delivered her. Your mother was unconscious."

  "But…what about…a body?"

  "Babies are dumped like garbage every day. All I needed was to find one who'd died around the same time and make the switch. With all the chaos, and your father so occupied by your mother, it was easy." He moaned, his body racked by another wave of coughing.

  "Where's my sister now?"

  "She was a beautiful child, so smart," he rambled. "So much promise."

  Jasi gripped his shoulders and shook him. "Where is she?"

  "Dead."

  That single word made her cry out. "No!"

  "She wasn't gifted like you." Bubbles of blood oozed from his lips. "I waited, gave her time to grow into it, but nothing happened. She was just normal, average. In the end, she became worthless to me."

  "So you killed her?"

  "I chose the wrong sister." His eyelids closed. "I should've taken you."

  Sirens screamed in the distance.

  Brandon returned with four bath towels. "We can use these."

  "His pulse is weak, and he has lost a lot of blood."

  Brandon removed her jacket from Paxton's chest and inspected the wound. "The bullet's still inside. We just have to keep him stable until the ambulance gets here." He draped the towels across Paxton's stomach and applied pressure.

  "He killed my mother."

  Brandon's eyes widened. "What?"

  "He's the one I saw. He was in love with her." She debated telling him about her mother's psychic skills. Another time.

  The sirens drew closer.

  "I had a sister, Brandon." She collapsed into his arms. "He killed her too."

  He held her close. She knew there was nothing he could say, nothing that would take away the searing pain in her heart. She'd barely had time to mourn her mother, now that she knew the truth, and now she had a sister to grieve for too.

  "I don't understand how he could've done all this," she cried. "He was Pop's best friend."

  Wordlessly, Brandon stroked her hair and wiped away her tears.

  "Oh God…" She gazed into his eyes. "How am I supposed to tell Pop about my mother and sister?"

  He kissed her forehead. "You'll find the right words. I know you."

  She looked down at the man who had once been her uncle. "I still have questions. He'd better make it."

  Flashing lights appeared at the end of the road, moving toward them with speed.

  "The ambulance is here," she said.

  "You want to ride with him?"

  "No. They'll take care of him."

  Brandon's brows arched in surprise. "You sure?"

  "Positive. I need to stay here. Did you call Ben and Natassia?"

  "Yeah. When I went for the towels. They're on their way back. The gas station attendant said he stopped for gas, but he filled a gas can instead of the truck's tank."

  "That's a bit odd." She shrugged. "Maybe he already had a full tank."

  "Want me to go check?"

  "Not yet. Just stay here with me."

  They were interrupted by two paramedics. She showed them her badge and led them to the picnic table, where they set up the stretcher.

  "What's the name of the victim?" one paramedic asked as he took Paxton's vitals.

  "Paxton Helling," Brandon said.

  "Exit wound?"

  "No."

  Jasi filled in the paramedics on what happened and gave them her card. "Have the hospital call me as soon as he's conscious."

  As the ambulance drove away, Jasi folded her arms across her chest. Suddenly, she was exhausted to the bone. All she wanted to do was go home, climb in bed and sleep.

  Her data-com rang.

  "Hey, Ben."

  "We're about twenty minutes away," he said. "You okay?"

  "I will be."

  "Did Helling give you any information on Hawley and the hunt club?"

  "Nothing new." She'd tell him about her mother and sister later.

  "The team at Helling's trailer found something interesting."

  She perked up. "What?"

  "A bill of sale for a cabin built by Mole Tech."

  "The cabin here at Whonnock Lake?"

  "That's the one."

  She looked at Brandon. "So Paxton and Gathmann probably knew each other. Interesting."

  Ben signed off, and she studied the cabin. Every time she walked by it, electrical charges raced over her body, causing the hair on her arms to stand.

  "We can head down the road," Brandon suggested. "Meet Ben and Natassia along the way."

  "I agree. I need to get out of here. This place feels…weird."

  With flashlight beams on high, they strolled arm-in-arm down the gravel road, chatting about the case, but avoiding anything to do with Paxton Helling.

  "Mole Tech sure had their hand in everything," Brandon said.

  "Yeah."

  He chuckled. "Remember when we said that 'all roads lead back to Sanctuary'? I think we should amend that now to 'all roads lead back to Mole Tech.'"

  "Doesn't have the same—" Jasi stopped walking.

  "What's wrong?"

  She couldn't move her legs. "I don't know."

  "Are you feeling okay?"

  "Not really." Her throat was raw and her skin itched.

  "Maybe you should sit down."

  She tried to take a step forward, but a voice in her head screamed, "No!"

  "Jasi?"

  "I want to leave, but something's telling me to stay."

  "I don't understand."

  She glanced over her shoulder at the cabin. Why is it reeling me back?

  "We should leave, Jasi." His voice sounded scared.

  "There's something here, Brandon. I feel it. I know it. I have to go back."

  Without waiting, she ran toward the cabin, barely aware that her legs were finally moving. With every step closer, the pain in her throat subsided. At the back door, she paused and drew a deep breath.

  "We've already searched inside, twice," Brandon said.

  "We never really looked outside."

  "What for?"

  "I'm not sure exactly." She shone her flashlight over the house as she walked. Something illusive twigged at her memory. "What do we know about this place?"

  "It was built by Mole Tech, and Becket Hawley paid for it."

  Mole Tech…

  "Why that company?" she asked. "Why not any other construction company?"

  "Because he wanted to live a green lifestyle?"

  She let out a snort. "Did you see his trailer? Anything green about it? No, he didn't care about the environment. He cared about comfort. And did you notice inside—there's no green technology in this cabin other than a few energy efficient appliances."

  "You're right. He could've paid far less for a cabin without the environmental perks."

  She faced him. "Unless he wanted a different kind of perk."

  "What are you thinking?"

  Excitement coursed through her veins. "A secret room."

  "But if you look at the outside of this place an
d the windows, you'll realize everything fits. There's no place on the main or second floor for a secret room."

  She swept her flashlight across the ground. "Maybe it's not on the main or second floor. Maybe there's a basement. Maybe that's the secret room."

  She hurried toward the house, her eyes fixated on a shadowed area near the concrete base of the house. "Some small animal has dug a hole here." She poked at the toe of her boot. "See there? The concrete goes down at least a foot."

  Brandon grabbed a rake that was leaning against the house. Using quick movements, he dragged the earth aside. He flipped the rake and jammed the handle into the hole, tilting it toward the base.

  "It's at least two feet in and still connecting," he said. "You may be right."

  "There has to be an access to the basement inside the cabin." She darted toward the back door. "Are you coming?"

  "Wouldn't miss it."

  Inside the cabin, she studied the open kitchen/living room area. First, she inspected the closet, tapping on the walls inside and listening for any hollowness. Brandon searched the hall and main floor bathroom.

  "I've got nothing," she said twenty minutes later. "I don't understand. It has to be here."

  "So where would someone like him build an entranceway to a room he didn't want anyone else to know about?"

  "It would have to fit the place, Brandon. That's Mole Tech's forte. Remember the door in the rocks? It was camouflaged perfectly."

  "Well, this is a rustic cabin that's been modernized in some ways but not overly so. How could he camouflage a door here?"

  She paced across the living room, examining every nook and cranny. Brandon's question kept repeating in her mind.

  Without warning, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  "You got it?" he asked, moving to her side.

  "The answer was in front of us all long, if we'd bothered to look down."

  She pointed to the floor. Two long scratches indicated the sofa had been moved often, and she doubted it was for cleaning.

  Brandon set to work, swiveling the sofa out along the same tracks.

  "There," she said.

  An area of hardwood was slightly discolored, the planks dulled by hands.

  She knelt on the floor and smoothed her hands along the large rectangular area. Her fingertips touched a rough patch. She pressed down. The floor made a soft popping sound, and the rectangular area lifted on three sides. Inching her fingers beneath the edge, she lifted it a few inches. "Jackpot."