by Dan Padavona
Behind her, Serena Hopkins opened the oven and removed a blueberry pie. Sweet dessert scents wafted through the home. Last autumn, Serena accepted Naomi’s invitation and joined the Shepherd Systems sales team. Serena’s daughter, Raven, expressed concern when Naomi offered Serena the position. Serena was a recovering heroin addict with a long history of substance abuse. She’d pulled her life together after rehab. Since taking the sales position, Serena had surpassed everyone on her team. She became the top salesperson at Shepherd Systems by midwinter, promoted twice in half a year.
“Worried about the weather?” Serena asked, shedding her oven mitts and setting them on the counter. She moved to Naomi’s side and joined her at the door. Wolf Lake reflected the jagged lightning. “That little house is stronger than it looks. As long as Scout stays away from the windows, she’s safe.”
Naomi turned from the glass.
“I’m sure you’re right. But I’d feel better if she was home with us. Maybe I should run down to the guest house and—”
Boom!
Lightning struck the lake and lit the downstairs as if a bomb exploded. Serena arched an eyebrow.
“You’re not going outside.”
Naomi bit her lip and padded to the counter. Blueberry juice bubbled through slits in the crust as the pie cooled beside the stove. Serena and Naomi began baking together last summer. These days, it was more than a hobby and passion. They supplied Ruth Sims and the Broken Yolk with assorted pies, cookies, and breads. Neighbors offered top dollar for Easter desserts. But Naomi refused to sell to her friends and neighbors, instead giving away desserts as gifts until she ran through their supply.
“What’s she working on, anyhow?” Serena asked, referring to Scout.
“That missing boy on the news.”
“The teenager in Wells Ferry?”
“That’s the one. He disappeared last evening, and Thomas discovered the mother dead in her kitchen. Someone stabbed the poor woman.”
“Good God, that’s horrible. The boy didn’t kill her, did he?”
“The sheriff’s department won’t know until they find him.” Naomi leaned against the counter with her head lowered. “I just hope this investigation knocks Scout out of her funk.”
Serena rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on a towel.
“Your daughter? In a funk? I’m not sure we’re talking about the same Scout Mourning.”
Naomi raised her eyes to the ceiling and brushed the hair off her forehead.
“I’ve never seen her this way. Not even after the accident. When this damn custody battle heated up, she checked out. Her grades dropped, she lost interest in her hobbies, and stopped talking. She barely gave LeVar the time of day this morning, and you know how much she loves your son.”
Serena joined Naomi beside the counter.
“You’re right. That doesn’t sound like Scout. Has she talked to somebody?”
A jolt moved through Naomi.
“You mean a therapist?”
Serena draped a reassuring arm around Naomi’s shoulders.
“It helped me.”
“I suppose it’s worth a shot. If Glen backed off, her troubles would go away. For the life of me, I don’t understand why he’s fighting me for Scout.”
“Some men are impossible to figure out. They’re headstrong and impulsive. If they opened up and spoke their feelings, they’d settle their problems. But they keep everything bottled up.”
“For a long time, I pitied Glen. He did nothing wrong.” Naomi flashed back to the accident. She pictured herself in the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio while Glen waited at a red light. Then the sudden panic that something huge was hurtling at them, out of control. She glanced at the mirror a second before the tractor trailer slammed their vehicle from behind. “There’s no reason for Glen to blame himself over what happened. But ignoring his daughter for so long, then taking me to court for custody. It’s senseless.”
Serena took Naomi’s hand in hers and patted it.
“No matter what happens, my family is here for you. And don’t worry about LeVar and hurt feelings. He understands what Scout is going through, and he’ll be there for both of you.”
“Your son is a godsend.”
Now Serena’s eyes misted over.
“That he is. How he survived my insanity, I’ll never know.” Serena crossed her heart. “Someone looked over LeVar.”
Past the window, the rain let up. The sky brightened as the storm roared over the eastern hills.
“See? There’s always hope in the darkest of storms,” Serena said, giving Naomi’s hand a squeeze.
The tension released from Naomi’s shoulders. She walked back to the deck door. The guest house stood unscathed, an impenetrable force against the elements.
“When the pie cools, let’s cut Scout a slice and surprise her.”
“That’s the spirit. I bet dessert for dinner will cheer her up.”
Naomi rinsed her hands in the sink. When she shut the water off, Jack began barking from inside the guest house. Great, ear-splitting woofs that lifted the hairs on the back of Naomi’s neck. Serena turned to face Naomi with her mouth hanging open. Jack never reacted this violently. Not unless someone threatened his loved ones.
A stranger was in the yard.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saturday, 4:05 p.m.
Officer Avery Neal slid the stapler to the corner of his desk and clicked his case notes together. With his desk arranged to his liking, he checked his messages and glanced toward the door. A half hour ago, he’d called Kemp Massey to the station. The goddamn sheriff would cause a scene if he spotted Massey, so Neal contacted Detective Kowalski and asked to borrow the detective’s desk. Kowalski worked in the back corner of the office, out of view from the conference room where Sheriff Shepherd conferred with his deputies. Neal spied the sheriff from the tops of his eyes as the officer pretended to read his notes.
Kemp Massey appeared in the doorway sooner than expected. Neal gave Barber a glare, and Barber hurried to the conference room to run interference. Neal grinned. While his partner kept the sheriff and his deputies busy, Neal crossed the bullpen and motioned Massey to follow him to Kowalski’s desk. Massey carried a reusable grocery bag.
“You wanted to speak with me, Officer?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming, Mr. Massey.”
Neal noticed Kowalski’s nameplate on his desk and turned it over before Massey saw. He motioned at the open seat and sat in the detective’s chair. One day soon, Neal would make detective and finally earn real money with the Wells Ferry PD. Arresting Kemp Massey for his wife’s murder would be the feather in the cap that propelled Neal past his peers when the detective position opened.
Neal nodded at the grocery bag.
“I trust you brought what I asked?”
Massey handed him the bag.
“I want it returned when you’re finished.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Why haven’t you found my son?”
“I assure you, we’re working hard to bring Shawn home. Between the Wells Ferry PD, the sheriff’s department, and volunteer searchers, we’re covering as much ground as we can.”
Massey’s jaw tightened.
“You should do more, not sit behind a desk while Shawn runs from a psychopath.”
Neal bit his tongue. He wanted to slap the insolence off Massey’s face. By sunset, he’d gather evidence implicating Kemp Massey in his wife’s murder. This case would finally reach its conclusion. The officer painted on his most genuine smile.
“And I am. I got off the phone with the state police before you arrived. It took some arm twisting, but I arranged for two K9 dogs to help with the search. That’s where your son’s clothing comes in.” Neal lifted the bag without touching its contents. He didn’t want to contaminate the scent. “If Shawn is out there, the dogs will find him.”
“Why wasn’t this done sooner? My boy went missing in the middle of a thunderstorm. The no
rth end of Wells Ferry is under water.”
“Shawn is resilient, Mr. Massey. I’m certain he’s alive and unharmed.” Neal rocked back in Kowalski’s chair, picked up a pen, and tapped it against his palm. “Perhaps you can help us narrow the search area.”
Battling to maintain his composure, Massey rose from his chair.
“If I knew where Shawn was, don’t you think I’d tell you?”
“Sit. It’s been a long twenty-four hours. May I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“You’re pale, Mr. Massey. Keep your strength up, so you can help me find your son.”
Massey huffed.
“Fine. I’ll take water.”
Officer Neal raised his index finger and strode to the break room. From the drawer, he removed a hand towel and wrapped it around a plastic bottle of water. Then he returned to his desk. Massey stared at his phone, unaware as Neal set the water before him and slipped the towel inside his pocket. Massey cleared the frog from his throat and unscrewed the cap. He nodded at Neal.
“Thank you.”
“I’m curious, Mr. Massey. Given your son’s school record—fights with classmates, falling grades—I’m worried he makes rash decisions. That’s a dangerous combination when he’s exposed to the weather, lost, and frightened. We already determined he broke into a private business to get out of the rain.”
“If you charge my son with breaking and entering—”
Neal raised a hand.
“Nothing of the sort. There’s no damage to the marina, and the owner won’t press charges. Why did Shawn head to the marina? Does he have friends who live in the area?”
“Shawn has lots of friends. I’m unsure of their addresses.”
“A father should know these things.”
Massey ran a tired hand through his hair.
“Yes, I should. I admit I haven’t been the best father to Shawn since the separation. It’s difficult raising a teenager alone.”
“I’m certain it is. But Shawn must have friends he trusts, Mr. Massey. Someone who’d take him in and keep him safe.”
The father nodded.
“One would. Mike. I apologize, but I can’t recall his last name. A private investigator asked me the same question.”
“You don’t need a private investigator. We’re on the case. Is Shawn’s friend a senior at Wells Ferry High?”
“Mike graduated last year. He’s a freshman in college. Was it St. John Fisher? Buffalo?” Kemp Massey snapped his fingers. “Nazareth. I remember because Mike gave Shawn his orientation T-shirt.” Officer Neal noted the information and closed his memo pad. “Now that I remember, Mike lives a mile or two north of the marina. But he’s away at school, so Shawn wouldn’t go there.”
“That’s very helpful.” Neal narrowed his eyes. “The marina is a long way from home. In fact, it’s in the opposite direction. Putting myself in Shawn’s shoes, if someone murdered my mother, I’d run home before I considered an alternative. Unless home was more dangerous than being on the run.”
Kemp Massey tensed and sat forward.
“What are you implying?”
Neal grinned inside. He had Massey right where he wanted him. The officer reached beneath his chair and slid the text transcripts from his folder. He slapped the paper on the desk and turned it to face his top suspect.
“Last month you sent your wife a text message. You only care about power and your career. You’re dead to me.”
The father’s eyes darted around the room before returning to the paper.
“We had a fight. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Am I? You’re dead to me is an interesting expression, considering someone murdered your wife last night. But you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, right?”
Kemp Massey bit his fist and averted his eyes. Neal tapped his finger further down the page and commanded Massey’s attention.
“And here you wrote, He’s heartbroken. I’ll make you pay for ruining his life.” Neal leaned back and clasped his hands over his stomach. “Can’t blame a father for avenging his son. Did you make your wife pay, Mr. Massey?”
“I’m not answering any more questions. It’s obvious where you’re taking this.”
“When was the last time you visited your wife’s house?”
“A year ago. Maybe more.”
Good, keep talking, Officer Neal thought. He already knew Kemp Massey tried to kick down his wife’s door during a recent fight. The man couldn’t keep his lies straight.
“Did you argue about Shawn?”
“That’s all we ever fought about, so yes.”
“Did the fight turn physical?”
“I wouldn’t lay a hand on Megan.”
Neal pulled the grocery bag containing Shawn’s clothing across the desk and set it at his feet.
“I’ll find your son, Mr. Massey. You see, I suspect he had a reason not to run home after he fled the scene. Either he murdered his mother, or he figured out you killed Megan.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Neal tapped the bag.
“We’ll see about that. That’s all for now.” When Kemp Massey stood, Neal folded his arms. “Oh, and don’t leave Wells Ferry. I’ll wish to speak to you again. Soon.”
“I wouldn’t leave town without my son, Officer Neal.”
Kemp Massey stormed from the bullpen, almost running into Barber as Neal’s partner crossed the room. Neal shook his head over the father’s stupidity.
Ensuring no one paid him attention, Neal removed the towel and wrapped it around the water bottle. Then he carefully screwed the cap on and concealed the bottle inside the grocery bag. The idiot father had left his DNA all over the bottle. All he needed to do was match the DNA and prove Kemp Massey was inside Megan Massey’s house.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday, 4:10 p.m.
Naomi couldn’t concentrate with Jack barking and tossing himself against the guest house door. Whoever was outside, the dog considered him a threat. Serena moved from window to window, running through the bedrooms before returning to the kitchen.
“There’s someone out there, but I can’t see who it is.”
Naomi wrung her hands. If anyone threatened Scout, Naomi would throw herself in harm’s way without hesitation. But indecision froze her in place. She wouldn’t rush into the yard without confirming the location of the intruder. Any thief who broke inside the guest house with Jack snapping at the door was a fool. She trusted the dog to keep her daughter safe. Still, she wished for a gun. Anything to deter the intruder.
“We need to get to Scout,” Naomi said. “Call 9-1-1 while I check the locks.”
Serena’s voice traveled through the downstairs as Naomi rushed to the front door. Confirming she’d thrown the bolt and hooked the chain, Naomi turned back to the kitchen. Just then, a shadow passed over the living room window.
“He’s in the front yard,” Naomi said as Serena ended the call.
Serena pressed the air down with her hands.
“Stay calm. It could be a delivery person.”
“Why would a delivery person sneak through the yard?”
Serena peeked through the sliding glass door.
“There’s no one between us and the guest house. I say we make a run for it.”
Naomi pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Let’s go.”
After she peered through the glass, Naomi slid the back door open. Serena followed her onto the deck. Water from this afternoon’s rain dripped from the trees, the yard a quagmire of puddles. As they descended the ramp, a man appeared around the corner. Serena drew a breath.
“That’s my husband,” Naomi said, pulling Serena back. “What the hell is Glen doing here?”
Glen Mourning aimed his phone at the guest house. He made steady, careful steps across Thomas Shepherd’s backyard as he recorded LeVar’s home, oblivious to Naomi and Serena closing in from the neighboring yard.
“Glen!” He froze at Naomi’s shout and almost dropped the phone. Glen turned. Naomi barely recognized him. It appeared her husband had aged twenty years since she last saw him several months ago. His thinning blonde hair stuck out in opposite directions, his eyes black holes sinking into his skull, skin waxen. Almost yellow. “What are you doing?”
“Is this how you keep my daughter safe? By allowing her to hide behind closed doors with a gangster and a murderer?”
“You wait just a minute,” Serena said, striding toward Glen. Naomi grabbed Serena and pulled her back. “My son never murdered anyone.”
“Oh, I know all about you too. You’re the mother, the drug addict, aren’t you?”
“Stop it, Glen!” Naomi shouted.
“I won’t have these people around Scout. How long before she drops out of school or uses drugs? This is all the evidence I need to prove you’ve failed as a mother.” Glen held the phone in the air like a trophy. “No court will side with you, Naomi. Remove these felons from her life, or so help me, I’ll take Scout away from all this and ensure no one harms her again.”
“Go back to the house,” Naomi said, turning to Serena.
“Not while he’s tearing apart my boy.”
“Please. Do it for me. I’ll fix this.”
Serena shot Glen an icy stare that made him flinch. Without another word, she turned and marched back to Naomi’s house.
“I hope you’re happy, Glen. That’s a beautiful woman you upset.”
Glen scoffed.
“Sorry for the hurt feelings, but my only concern is for Scout.”
“By the way, your footage is useless. LeVar isn’t even home today. He’s helping the sheriff’s department solve a crime.”
“Well, he’s the expert on criminal activity.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.” Glen’s lower lip quivered. “I won’t let you put Scout at risk. Not anymore. I’m leaving, Naomi. You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
Glen trudged up the yard and vanished around the corner of the house. A motor purred along the lake road, and he drove off, leaving Naomi alone in the yard. She cupped her elbows with her hands and let the tears flow. Years of tension burst forth as she fought to regain control over her emotions. At that moment, the lake seemed so vast, so invincible. The water’s calming effect disappeared. Wolf Lake intimidated her, warned her of a bleak future she couldn’t control.