A Question of Honor

by Mary Anne Wilson

  “Sure,” she said and laid it on the desk. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks,” he said. He left and climbed into his truck. A glance at his phone on the seat told him he’d missed a call from Ray. He called back, and Ray answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Adam said.

  “I’ve got something. It doesn’t make much sense to me because I don’t know what you’re up to, but I thought you ought to know anyway.”

  Adam listened to Ray. “Good, that’s good,” he told him. “Can you keep digging and get me a direct number for that attorney, Little?”

  “Sure,” Ray muttered. “But I don’t walk on water.”

  “Shoot, and here I’ve been telling everyone you do,” Adam said.

  Ray hung up with a promise to get back to Adam when he found what he was looking for.

  Adam looked up and down the street and couldn’t see Faith anywhere. He backed out and slowly drove toward Manaw’s Garage. When he neared it, he spotted Faith walking out from the first service bay, then turned with her head down, walking in the direction of the inn. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets, and her attention seemed to be on her boots.

  He pulled in by the gas pumps, got out of the truck and cut across the gravel to head after Faith. Then he remembered the last time he’d chased her and thought better of it. She seemed intent on getting somewhere, so he backed off and just watched her walk. He’d let her go, for now.

  “Adam?”

  He turned and saw Dent wiping greasy hands on an equally greasy rag, coming toward him. “The car’s done,” he said in a low voice when he got close. “I just need to snap the plug wires into the harness to finish it.”

  “Good. Just let it be for now, and I’ll get back to you soon. This might be done sooner than four o’clock.”

  Dent nodded, but said, “You know, brother, that little lady is making me feel like the Grinch.”

  “This means everything to me and I hope it will to her.”

  “She’s desperate to leave this place,” Dent called after him.

  “I know,” he called back.

  He got in his truck, determined he knew what to do. He drove in the direction of the police station, relieved to see John’s car parked outside. He went straight to John’s office and closed the door. “I need a favor, John, a huge favor, friend to friend, nothing less.”

  John looked up, took one look at Adam’s face. “What did you do?”

  “That’s what I need to talk to you about, but there can’t be anyone else in on this.”

  John stared hard at him, then sat back in his chair. “Sit down, friend, and tell me what’s going on.”

  Adam did more. “Totally off the record?”

  John didn’t hesitate. “Friend to friend,” he said.

  * * *

  FAITH WANTED TO SIT in Dent’s garage and just wait for the car to be done. But she knew she couldn’t, though she didn’t want to run into anyone, either, least of all Adam. Walking alone, she kept her head low and held tightly to the carved box in her pocket. It had come to feel like a talisman for her. She concentrated on getting back to the inn without seeing anyone, but knew it was risky.

  So she moved off to a side street, circled back and wound up at the inn just like before when she’d gone the wrong way. She studied the inn, then during a break in traffic, she darted across the street and got inside. No one seemed to notice her. Except for Mallory.

  “Glad you got back,” she said, coming downstairs, where Faith had started up them.

  Mallory waited for her to join her, then held out an envelope to her. “I was about to put this under your door before I went out. It’s from Adam.”

  The envelope was light in Faith’s hand, and she wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Adam said to make sure you got it.” Mallory paused at the top of the stairs. “When will you be leaving?”

  “By four, I think”

  “Good, I’ll try to be back by then.” Mallory hesitated. “I’m really going to miss you.”

  The catch in her voice almost did Faith in. The hug that came next made it hard for Faith. “I’ll miss all of you.”

  Mallory patted her back and said, “Please, come on back this way again?”

  She would have loved nothing more than to come back, but she couldn’t lie. “I don’t think I can, but I’ll never forget you.”

  Mallory stood back and swiped at her eyes. “Darn, I hate getting all misty.” She gave a weak smile. “You drive carefully.”

  Faith nodded and, clutching the envelope, went into her room. She ignored the note while she finished packing, but when she was ready, the only thing left in the room that was hers was the note. She slowly opened it and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside.

  Faith,

  Don’t leave before I get there.

  We have to talk.

  A scrawl at the bottom must have said Adam. She wasn’t sure, partly because it was more style than form and partly because her eyes were blurring. She carefully folded the paper, pushed it back into the envelope. Her first instinct was to leave it there, but it was the only tangible thing of Adam’s that she had. She pushed it into the pocket of her jacket, which she was still wearing, along with the carved box.

  “Done,” she said, and then she called Dent. She knew the man was tired of her pressuring him, but she didn’t hesitate to phone him again.

  When he answered, she said, “Hi, this is Faith Arden.”

  “Yes, I thought it might be.” She didn’t know if he was being teasing or sarcastic. She didn’t care.

  “How much longer?” she asked.

  “Tell you what, if you don’t call me again, I might be able to get it done sooner. That way you get what you want faster, and I’ll be in a better mood when you pay the bill.” He laughed at his own statement. “Does that sound like a deal?” he asked.

  She smiled a bit herself. “Yes, that’s a deal,” she said.

  “Wonderful. I’ll see you soon.”

  She hung up.

  So this meant that she’d be gone soon. She should have felt relieved, but oddly, she couldn’t begin to figure out what she was feeling. She glanced at the clock: 2:00 p.m. She had a couple more hours to get through.

  * * *

  ADAM CHECKED THE CLOCK and had only forty-five minutes to get to Dent’s to find Faith. He walked out of John’s office, got to his truck and his phone rang. He flipped it open and answered it. “Ray, have you got it?”

  “I do,” his partner said. He read off a phone number, then added, “He’s waiting for your call but can’t hang around too long.”

  “I owe you,” Adam said. Once he was in the truck, he punched in the number for Baron Little’s private line. When a man answered, identifying himself as the attorney, Adam introduced himself, then told him what he wanted to do. The man listened patiently and then said, “I can’t tell you anything about the case or about my client.”

  “Well, you can listen, can’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Just listen.”

  “You’ve got five minutes, and the clock is ticking.”

  * * *

  FAITH’S NERVES WERE RAW. She couldn’t wait any longer. Having packed all of her belongings, she went downstairs intending to ask Mallory if she could leave them there while she took one last trip to Dent’s. But Mallory wasn’t there. So she pushed her bags behind the desk and left.

  She got to the garage and thought for a minute it was locked up tight. But the one bay door was up and her car was there unlocked. She was ready to call for Dent when a woman came up to her.

  She looked about forty, was full-figured with dark skin and short black hair. She smiled at Faith. “Faith Arden?”

  “Yes.”r />
  “I’m Dent’s wife. He had to go to fix a flat at the last minute, and he left me here to meet you at four.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “A few minutes early, but that’s all good. I have some last minute shopping to do for the kids.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Faith. “Dent said you’d settle this.”

  Faith took the bill, handed Mrs. Dent the money and was rewarded by being handed the keys to her car. Within five minutes she was back at the inn, parking her perfectly running car out front and going in to get her luggage. Mallory wasn’t back yet, and no one was behind the desk, not even Willie G.

  She left an envelope on the desk with her payment for what she owed for her room and included a bit extra for Mallory. She propped it against the old ledger, then took her things out to the car. It was still several minutes before four, and she waited. But Adam didn’t show up. She fingered the steering wheel, looked around, then knew she was being stupid. She had to leave.

  There wasn’t any black truck racing down the street or a tall man with a Stetson striding toward her. She hadn’t wanted to see him again anyway, she reasoned as she put the car in Reverse and backed out. That was a total lie, but it was the way it should be. Over and done. Then she turned to head out of town, going northwest.

  She was finally driving away from Wolf Lake, and she should be thrilled, but all Faith felt was that she was driving away from everything good in her life and everything she desperately wanted. As she passed the hospital, she pulled over and let the car idle. She took the small case out of her pocket, lifted the turquoise teardrop out of its nest and closed her fingers around it, holding it tightly in one hand. She tossed the case onto the passenger seat and drove off.

  She’d go west, then north, up into Colorado. Once she found a place to stay for the night, she’d figure out where to go from there. Honestly, she didn’t care where she ended up as long as she kept to her own rules. She would never again let herself get involved with a town full of characters and a tall, dark-haired man who only showed her what she’d never have. The love of her life had come and gone, and she wasn’t so sure that she would survive in one piece. She knew her heart wouldn’t.

  She kept going and found the highway heading north. The town was gone. Snow began to fall, driven by a blustery wind. Gray clouds blotted out the sunlight. She felt the turquoise in her hand and rubbed its smooth surface with her fingertips. Memories. “That’s all I have now,” she said as she went into a sharp curve and felt the car’s tires leave the pavement.

  * * *

  ADAM PULLED AWAY from the police station after his conversation with the attorney with only ten minutes to get to Dent’s. While he drove, he called the garage, but the phone went to an answering machine. He hung up and tried the inn. No one answered there, either. When he got to the inn and didn’t see any cars out front, he parked, jogged to the door and went inside.

  No one was at the desk, but he saw a single envelope propped against the register. Mallory was written on the front of it. He stood there, called out to Mallory, but there was no answer, so he took the stairs two at a time, got to Faith’s room and found it stripped of everything that would have shown Faith had been there.

  Quickly, he went back down and met Mallory coming in. “Hey, Adam,” she said, looking past him. “I gave Faith your note. Is she still here?”

  “No.”

  “Darn, I wanted to get back before she left.”

  “Me, too,” he muttered as she spotted the envelope. She picked it up, opened it and took out a number of bills, then a piece of notepaper. She unfolded it, read it and handed it to Adam.

  Mallory,

  You never gave me the final bill, and I had to leave, so I made a guess at what it was and added 10 percent. I hope that covers what I owe you. I don’t know how to thank you for all your kindnesses. Please tell everyone goodbye for me.

  Merry Christmas.

  Faith.

  He dropped it onto the desk. “Have you seen Dent?”

  She looked at him, thankfully not asking him any questions he didn’t want to answer. “Saw him about half an hour ago on his way to a customer who had a flat tire. His wife was holding down the fort at the garage.”

  He called and spoke with Dent’s wife, confirming what Mallory had told him. She didn’t know which way Faith was headed. The only other person he could think of was Oscar. If anyone had seen Faith leave, it would be him. Adam ignored the truck and jogged over to the general store. Oscar was locking up, but true to form, he knew everything about everyone. He’d seen Faith leave about twenty minutes earlier, and she’d been going west out of town. Adam checked the clock. Depending how she was driving, she had a decent head start on him.

  He ran back to his truck, climbed in, revved it up and turned out onto the street to head west. Since there were only two ways out of town to the west and one headed to the res, she had to be on the state route that cut west, then north and up into Colorado eventually. He drove as quickly as he could, hoping the snow would stop, but the farther he went, the less that seemed likely to happen. Thick, wet flakes made it hard to see the road. Only faint impressions of anyone else were visible. He slowed more and more as the weather deteriorated.

  Hindsight being twenty-twenty, he wished he’d just told Faith what he knew about her and let things fall where they may. But he couldn’t have. Not until he’d cleared up a lot with the attorney, and now he was free to tell her everything. Ironically, she was gone, and for all he knew, she wouldn’t ever return. His windshield wipers were laboring to keep the glass clear, and on the curves he slowed to a crawl.

  Why hadn’t he just told her that he cared about her? Why hadn’t he begged her to stay? Better yet, he thought, why hadn’t he simply told her the truth? He’d been so focused on her being truthful with him, but he’d done his share of lying to her, small things, but important things.

  He pulled over when he lost sight of the road on a curve. The snow let up gradually and he pushed through and came out onto a relatively straight stretch of road that climbed higher. He barely stopped himself from standing on the brake.

  A car that looked like the one Faith had been driving was twenty feet ahead, nose down in a ditch. He could see the impression under the new snow where the tires had fought for traction, then sailed out of control. A fear he’d never known he was capable of feeling tore at him as he jumped out of the idling truck and made his way through the drifting snow to get to the disabled car.

  He half slid into the ditch, hit the driver’s door with the soles of his boots, barely avoiding putting his foot through the window, and he came to a jarring stop. The windows were iced and foggy, and Adam reached to grab the door handle to leverage himself up to his feet, where he immediately started to sink up to his knees in the snow. He got his balance finally, pulled the handle with a vicious jerk and heard it click and give. He grabbed the frame and forced the door back halfway. He had enough room to look inside.

  It was empty and he stood back, looking frantically around, not seeing anything but snow and ice-laden pines. Bracing himself on the driver’s seat, he could see something on the floor of the passenger side. He pushed farther in, awkwardly reaching down to touch the smooth finish of the tiny turquoise teardrop.

  Closing his hand over it, he hoisted himself out of the car. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic drive him, but it did now. He looked down at the stone in his hand as snow fell on it and he slowly curled his fingers around it. He turned and screamed for Faith at the top of his lungs.

  He waited, willing a response that never came. He twisted around, getting his balance, then climbed hand over hand up the sharp incline of the ditch. He made it to the road and almost slipped more than once as he hurried to his truck. He finally made it, reached into the truck to get his cell phone and punched in 911.

  “Nine one one. What is
the emergency you’re reporting?” a female voice asked.

  He quickly told her about the car going off the road, and she cut him off. “Yes, that has been reported, sir.”

  He forced himself to keep calm and remain in control. “What was reported?”

  “Sir, I can’t give that information out to you.”

  Adam didn’t hesitate. “I’m a cop with the Dallas P.D. I used to be a cop in Wolf Lake. There’s been an accident and I need some information. Now, what was reported?”

  “A single car went off the road at marker 27. It was found by a patrol car out of the Pine Cross substation about half an hour ago. Went out of control on a curve and was disabled.”

  “What about the driver?” he asked, literally holding his breath until the operator spoke again.

  “A female was found and taken to Pine Cross.”

  He braced himself. “Any injuries reported?”

  “No, none on the report. They took the lady to the substation in the town, then got her to the This Is It Motel. They got a tow truck ordered to retrieve the vehicle, but with this weather, it’s going to be a while.”

  “Do you have a name for the driver?”

  “Yes, sir, Faith Arden.”

  He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes for a second before asking for directions to the substation in Pine Cross. When he hung up, he let himself breathe, and then he climbed into the truck, swiped at the snow clinging to the leather at his shoulders. He put the truck in gear and drove toward Pine Cross. Faith was all right. She wasn’t hurt.

  His relief was monumental, and in that moment, he understood just a fraction of the fear and loss Jack must have felt the night Robyn had been taken from him. Adam never wanted to feel that way again. Never.

  * * *

  FAITH SAT ALONE in a beige-on-beige room, stuck in Pine Cross, waiting for another mechanic to tell her when or if her car could be driven again. Cursing the stupid car did no good, and tears weren’t there for her. Her eyes were dry, and she felt almost numb. She’d known Christmas would be lost to her this year, and she’d been right. Christmas Eve was even worse. In this room, with a prepackaged cheese sandwich and warm cola to celebrate, she stared at the TV that didn’t seem to have sound. Just as well, because she’d watched this particular movie at least a dozen times. It’s a Wonderful Life. She almost laughed, but no sound came from her, either.