by Karen Ball
Soft laughter followed them as they made their way to the kitchen, ready for the perfect end to a perfect day.
“Perfect. Just perfect.”
Jasmine looked up at Dan’s sarcasm, her plucked brows and the eyebrow ring disappearing into the fringe of the Lucille-Ball-red hair on her forehead. “Oooo, sounds to me like you’d better do lunch on your own, Shelby.”
The other woman, who just came in the door, looked from Dan to Jasmine, then back again. “What? Oh, Dan. Don’t tell me you’re going to work later? It’s Saturday. You promised to take the afternoon off.” She planted her hands on her hips. “One of the last nice weekends in September, and you’re going to work.”
Dan shoved away from his desk. “No, I’m not.” He grabbed the papers he’d been reading and tossed them into the trash.
“Hey!” Jasmine jumped up and pulled them out of the garbage. “I thought you needed these reports to figure out what Monstrous Murphy’s up to.”
“Yeah.” Dan shoved his hands into his pockets. “So did I. But they’re worthless.”
“What are they?”
When Dan didn’t answer, Jasmine turned to Shelby. “Police reports about Marlin.”
Dan shook his head. “That’s what they were supposed to be. But that kid covers his tracks better than anyone I’ve ever met. Every time the police came anywhere close to nailing him, someone else stepped up to take the fall. So those things—” he waved at the police reports—“are about as helpful as a squirt gun at a forest fire.”
He paced in front of his desk. “People have reported seeing Marlin’s idiots at different times with large amounts of drain cleaner, rubbing alcohol, brake cleaner, lithium batteries, cold tablets …”
“Stuff you’d use in a meth lab.”
Dan nodded at Jasmine. “And they’re always careful not to have any of that stuff when I’m around. So I’ve never seen anything suspicious that I can use to pull them in for questioning. Man! I’d give anything to know if that kid is just playing with meth, or if he’s a serious cooker. And to know how Jayce is mixed up in it all.”
Jasmine dropped the papers back into the trash can and perched on the edge of her desk. “I take it you’ve asked Jayce about it?”
“And that’s about as helpful as spitting on a forest fire.” He was letting his temper get the best of him, but blast it! Something big was either about to happen or was actually happening, and he couldn’t figure out what. And he’d bet his pension Jayce knew what it was. But for all that he and Jayce had grown closer, Dan couldn’t break through the shell he kept around his relationship with Marlin Murphy.
Why did Jayce protect that creep?
Shelby touched his arm. “How about we go get some lunch? You might think better on a full stomach.”
He found a smile. “You just want to steal my pickle.”
“Oh, please!”
Dan arched a look at Jasmine, but she wasn’t the least affected. She made a gagging motion, then shooed them away. “You two are so sweet together it’s making me ill. Please, go. Eat. Get away from me.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” Dan pulled the office door open, then jumped back when two small bodies tumbled in almost on top of him. He recognized the yelps right away.
“What are you two doing here?” He eyed his offspring. Had they been listening at the office door? Why on earth would they do that?
“We … uh … we were coming to see if … if …” Aaron looked at his sister, and she jumped in to help.
“If you wanted to buy us lunch.”
Clearly, those two were up to something, but he didn’t have time to figure out what.
“Sorry, guys. You’re on your own today.” He stepped aside so Shelby could exit. “I’ll be home for dinner, okay?”
Shannon’s response was oddly meek. “Okay, Daddy. We’ll see you later.”
She sounded so nice and obedient. So why, Dan wondered as he followed Shelby from the office, did it make him so uneasy?
TWENTY
“The tragedies that now blacken and darken the very
air of heaven for us, will sink into their places in
a scheme so august, so magnificent, so joyful,
that we shall laugh for wonder and delight.”
ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BACON
“Should we accept only good things
from the hand of God and never anything bad?”
JOB 2:10
AARON WAS SITTING ON THE COUCH, ENGROSSED IN his book, when Shannon dropped down beside him.
“Do you mind?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out and plucked the book from his hands.
“Hey!”
She closed the book and put it on the coffee table. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t need to do anything except finish my book. Now give it back before I—”
“Aaron, come on! You heard what Dad said about Marlin when we overheard him talking at his office. And about Jayce.” She sounded so serious, Aaron bit back what he’d been about to say—which basically was to tell her to go jump.
“Yeah, I heard him.”
“Well? Didn’t that worry you?”
He pulled one leg under him. “Sure, but what can we do about it?”
“I have a plan.”
When he just stared at her, she leaned closer. “A real plan. And I think it just might work.”
Aaron groaned. “Great. If you think I’m going to join you in some lame plan—”
“Just listen. We want to know what Marlin’s up to, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“And we want to know how much Jayce is involved, right?”
He bobbed his head from side to side. “And?”
“I’ve been following Jayce.”
Alarm jolted through Aaron, and he sat up straight. “You what?”
“It’s okay. I’ve been careful. He doesn’t know I’m doing it.”
He faced her. “How do you think Jayce would feel about you following him?”
Her features clouded. “He wouldn’t like it. But sometimes you have to do things people don’t like to protect them.” She tugged at Aaron’s arm. “Jayce is our friend, Aaron. He needs us.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Us? What us?”
“You and me, us. We’re going to follow Jayce again. Tomorrow. I think something’s happening. I don’t know for sure, but—”
“Forget it.” He grabbed his book from the table and headed for the deck off the kitchen. She followed right behind him.
“Come on, Aaron! Dad’s working tomorrow, so we don’t have to worry about him. And it’s Sunday, so we’ll have all day to track Jayce, which means we’ll have a good chance of seeing what’s going on.”
“Shannon …”
“Look, do you want to help Daddy? And Jayce?”
He sighed. “Of course.”
“Then this is the way to do it. We’ll head out early tomorrow morning, and we’ll be back before dinner when Dad comes home; we can tell him what we found out.”
“Assuming we find out anything that matters.”
She didn’t reply, but he could tell from the look on her face that she thought they would. Aaron stood there, one hand on the sliding glass door, the other clutching his book. Finally he stepped away from the door. “Okay.”
Shannon squealed. “Really?”
He cuffed her with the book. “Well, someone’s got to go to keep you out of trouble.”
She threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Aaron. This is going to work. I just know it. Now come back into the living room, and I’ll fill you in on what I’ve seen so far.”
He followed her, tapping his book against his leg as he walked. “All I can say is, we’d better do some serious praying tonight.”
“For safety?”
“That,” he said with a sigh, “and for Dad not to kill us when he finds out what we’ve done.”
“Oh.” Shannon’s nod was slow and thoughtful. “That’s going t
o take a lot of prayer.”
“Amen, sister.” He threw his arm around Shannon’s shoulders. “Amen.”
TWENTY-ONE
“The great snake lies ever half awake,
at the bottom of the pit of the world,
until he awakens in hunger.”
T. S. ELIOT
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering
wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory.”
MATTHEW 12:20 (NIV)
IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY.
Of course, most folks would disagree. Foggy days weren’t generally considered “beautiful,” especially in Sanctuary where the dense mist could actually keep people housebound for days on end. And especially this early in the season.
Sure, fog was expected from December on, and lots of it. But in early October? No way. And yet, here it was, cloaking the world all around them with a misty beauty.
Dan loved this kind of weather. Maybe it was the cool, moist air. Or the way the fog hung there, seemingly inert, but if you just concentrated hard enough you could see how it was in constant motion, drifting past.
With fog—especially thick fog, like today’s, where you almost couldn’t see the front of your car—the day seemed clean. Quiet. Peaceful.
Yeah. It was a beautiful day.
Dan leaned back against the car seat, poured coffee from the thermos into his cup, and sipped it.
Come to think of it, most of the days lately had been beautiful. And the nights. His first date with Shelby had been … amazing. They’d been so comfortable together. He never dreamed he could feel that comfortable with anyone again. The drive down to Shady Cove seemed to take five minutes instead of forty, and their time together over dinner had only brought them closer together.
They’d gone out several times a week since then, sometimes to dinner, other times just for a walk or a drive. Some nights they spent at his house with the kids who seemed as fond of Shelby as he was. The more time he spent with her, the more certain he grew that he’d been given something he thought was impossible.
A second chance at the love of a lifetime.
He looked out the windshield, drinking in the way the haze hung in the tall evergreens around him. Too bad he had to work today. Shannon and Aaron loved the fog as much as he did. They begged him this morning to let them go hiking while he was at work, but he’d been firm.
“I don’t want you kids out alone in this. If I was with you, it’d be different. But I can’t be today. So stick close to home.”
They hadn’t been happy with him, but those were the breaks. Parenting didn’t mean always making the kids happy but making them safe.
Still, he had to admit he felt a little guilty. Here he was, sitting on one of the many deserted roads just off the old highway, enjoying the fog-drenched world, and the kids were stuck at home.
Ah well. There had to be some benefit to being an adult.
Squawk! Screech! “Chief?”
Dan cringed. They really had to get that radio fixed. He grabbed the mic and keyed it. “Dan here.”
“Hey, I just got a call from ol’ man Brumby.”
Dan waited for her to talk about what a grump the man was, but she didn’t. “And?”
“Well, it’s strange. He said there’s some kind of trouble up at his place. He was talking real fast and sounded like he was all out of breath, and those crazy dogs of his were yelping in the background, so I couldn’t really understand him.”
The pop of her gum sounded like an explosion over the radio. Dan gritted his teeth. “Does he want me to come out there?”
“I think so. I don’t know. He sounded really weird. Kept talking real fast, rambling on and on about how he was calling like you told him to, that what happened wasn’t his fault, that no one could see in this fog.” She fell silent for a moment. “Chief? He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded …”
Dan frowned. “What, Jasmine?”
“Scared.” Oddly enough, so did she. Few things rattled Jasmine, but this call had clearly done so. Which meant something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
“Did he say anything else?”
“Well, I’m not sure.”
“What is it?”
“Chief, he was babbling something fierce, but I think I caught something about people up there. About them being hurt.”
Dan waited. He could tell she wasn’t done, but she was having a hard time getting it out.
“I’m almost sure he said they were lying on the road in front of his place. Bleeding. Dying.”
Dan examined the gray soup around him, then pulled out onto Highway 62 and headed south. “You notified the EMTs?”
“Gonna call ’em soon as we hang up, Chief.”
“Let me know their ETA, Jasmine.”
“Will do. Over ’n’ out.”
“Jasmine, you don’t have to—” Dan sighed. He’d have a better chance of changing the color of grass than getting her to drop her radio lingo. “Never mind. Justice out.”
Normally, he’d have been at the accident site within ten to fifteen minutes at the most. Today, it took him twice that. Twenty-five minutes. An eternity if someone was hurt. Bleeding …
He crept along, fingers tight on the steering wheel, praying all the way, hoping against hope the victims were only injured, that they’d hold on until he and the EMTs got there.
The logging road cut off the highway, turned from paved to gravel, then snaked its way up the mountain.
Screak! “Come in, Chief.”
He grabbed the mic. “I’m here. You reach the EMTs?”
“They’re on their way, but it’s gonna be a while. Fog’s gettin’ worse.”
Great. “Thanks, Jasmine.”
“Sorry the news isn’t better, Chief.”
So was he. He’d handled accidents before. Bad ones. And he’d dealt with his share of fatalities.
But it was never easy.
He peered out the window at the engulfing shroud. Knowing how the road climbed up the mountain, Dan figured he’d break through the fog, but the weather wasn’t giving an inch today. What had seemed so peaceful and beautiful a half hour ago suddenly seemed menacing.
He crawled around the last corner before Brumby’s place and pulled the cruiser to the side of the road.
He stepped out of the car and listened. Silence. Where were the dogs? For that matter, where was Brumby? Well, before he went to find the man, he’d better set out some flares so the EMTs knew this was the scene of the accident.
It only took him minutes to set up the flares and road flashers, then he grabbed the first-aid kit from the trunk and walked to the fence. “James! James Brumby!”
He listened. Fog seemed to amplify sound. Even if Brumby had the dogs closed up in the house, Dan should be able to hear the boys’ fierce barking.
But it was silent as a tomb.
Brushing off a sudden chill, Dan hollered Brumby’s name again. Why didn’t he respond? The man was a lot of things, but deaf was not one of them. He tried once more then waited.
No sign of the man anywhere.
Well, he couldn’t wait any longer. Best to see if he could find whoever was hurt. The fog captured the glow of the flares, blending the red light with the bright white of the strobing flashers and turning the world around Dan eerie, haunting.
A shiver spidered up his spine as his gaze swept the ground.
He almost stepped on the first body. One second there was nothing but fog; the next he hit a leg with his foot.
“Whoa! Sorry about that.” Dan knelt, setting his equipment on the ground and kneeling beside the still form. “It’s okay; I’m the deputy sheriff. I’m here to help you.”
No response. No sound. No movement.
Dan could see the still form now, lying facedown in front of him. His heart seized. Either it was a short adult or …
A kid. No more than a teen, from the size of him. Oh, Jesus—his prayer was equal measures supplication and sorrow—a chil
d? Why a child?
He reached out to feel for injuries, then when he saw the victim’s back, his hands froze in midmotion. There was a fist-sized hole in the kid’s coat, right between the shoulder blades.
Dan took in the dark stains soaking the jacket around the hole.
Blood.
This kid had been shot.
Dan stared down at the wound, utter disbelief wrestling with fury, as James Brumby’s voice drifted through his mind: “I’m tellin’ you, Deputy. I see any of those kids on my property again, I’m gonna get my gun.”
“Brumby, you old fool.” Dan felt for a pulse in the neck, and for a moment he was back with Sarah, pressing his fingers to her neck. He pushed the memory away—along with the emotions it sent flooding through him. He couldn’t afford those emotions right now. He had to focus.
No pulse. The victim’s skin was like ice, and Dan knew that had nothing to do with the weather.
His fingers slid away.
Nothing he could do for this one. Best to move on, see who else was hurt. Pray someone was still alive.
He only walked a few more feet before finding a second victim lying sprawled on her back. This one was even younger than the first. A little girl, from the long brown hair spread across her face. Dan ground his teeth, dread a weight in his heart and mind. Are they all children, God? All of them?
Dan knelt beside the still form. She had to be Shannon’s age, even had long chestnut hair like Shannon’s. Jesus, Jesus … help this little one’s family …
He pressed his fingers to the death-cooled neck. Praying. Waiting …
Nothing.
Bitter defeat squeezed his eyes shut. God, it’s not right! She’s so small. He opened his eyes, saw the gunshot wound in her chest, reached gentle fingers to brush away the hair covering her still face. So youn—
Air wedged in his throat. His mind saw. Grasped. But didn’t understand. Refused to understand.
It couldn’t be.
Fingers trembling, he touched her cheek, the fluorescent orange Band-Aid he’d put there just this morning.
No.
“I told you to stay home. I told you not to go out in this.” He took hold of the slim shoulders, shoulders that fit in his hands the way her mother’s always had. “God, please … not Shannon. Not my Shannon!”