Chapter Fourteen
Long after Tammy had vanished, leaving him to battle his demons, Gabriel lay back on the couch and tried not to think about all the things he’d witnessed today. Most of all, he tried not to think about Jessie. But today, of all days, she’d been with him most of the time, hidden in Maddie’s tears, Sam’s anger, and Tammy’s need to understand when even he himself did not.
Some shattered things didn’t ever go back together. Jessie was dead, Sam was broken, and so was he. Perhaps the fractures differed by degrees, but what did that matter? Did it make any of them less damaged, less handicapped by loss?
The grandfather clock chimed eleven, and Gabriel closed his eyes, wishing he could sleep, but when he shut out the world, images of his sister danced across the blackness in pictures as still as she had become all these years. Lifting his arm, he punched the pillow before cradling his head in his palm and shifting his hips, trying to get comfortable.
Although it had been years since Jessie’s death, nights like this suggested no time at all had passed, and he could feel grief tightening his chest, loneliness seizing his body like a winter chill he couldn’t warm away.
He thought of Maddie, sobbing, calmed only by pills and sleep, and he wondered if every night since the attack had been like this for her. She was afraid of him, even when she tried not to be—even when she was safe and beyond the mystery of night and pain, even when he tried so damned hard to be as gentle as he could. Yes, she was afraid of him; he knew that. But what he hadn’t realized until tonight was how afraid he was of her. She made him remember things he wanted to bury forever. Sam wasn’t the only one who knew the ultimate price of love.
He focused on the sound of his heart beating, trying to ease the flow of images flooding his brain—images he’d forgotten. His shoulders, although still aching with tension, relaxed, and he found himself merging toward darkness and the blessed blackness of sleep.
The void swirled, and lightning claimed it, revealing a wash of grey sky spitting a fine mist upon Gabriel’s face. The sun must’ve hidden itself behind the slate-grey clouds, as no traces of it appeared across the expansive sky. It was broken only by lighter ash tufts quickly drifting past. Gabriel sat up and found himself in a meadow lined with trees arrayed in autumnal scarlet and amber. Brown leaves fluttered from half-full branches, mingling with the piles on the ground, the same as those scattered around him.
“We’ve got to hurry,” Sam said, leaning over Gabriel. He reached for his younger brother’s hand and hoisted Gabriel upright. “She’s here somewhere.” Steam wisped from his mouth as he spoke and the gray funnel diffused in the misty air. He reached down, zipped his bulky denim jacke,t and then shoved his hand into a pocket to pull out some leather gloves. A dark hat covered his head.
“How do you know?” Gabriel asked, brushing his fingers across the seat of his jeans and then grimacing as he realized just how wet the grass he’d been lying in had been. Brushing his hands across the front of his jeans, he tried to dry them before shoving them deep into his pockets, trying to warm them. The skin ached from the cold. “She’s been gone a long time, and not even the police can find her.”
“She’s here. I know she is,” Sam insisted, striding forward, crunching through the dead leaves. With each step, they stuck to his wet boots in fragments. “We need to hurry. She’s cold and alone.” As if to emphasize his words, Sam widened his steps.
Gabriel, neither as tall nor as fast as his brother, hurried to keep pace. More leaves tumbled around them, falling faster, and the wind shivered through the branches. Peering upward, Gabriel saw the trees swaying slightly, dancing to the silence as an unkindness of ravens perched on one branch, their beady eyes regarding him. Although the moisture had only been a fine mist before, now thick drops fell, splattering against his face. “It’s raining,” he said.
Sam stopped, his feet buried in the dead leaves. He looked down at the earth in front of him, at the newly turned dirt packed over a rectangular patch of ground. “She’s here,” Sam finally managed, ignoring the way the sky turned loose of the pelting rain that saturated their clothing. Fat rivulets poured from the brim of his hat as he knelt and clawed at the ground which should have been hard from the unexpected cold snap. Instead, the rain had softened it, allowing Sam’s fingers to pry at the earthen cover, drawing a crumbling five-inch layer back.
As Gabriel also knelt, Sam thrust his hand into the hole, reached out to grab the soil, but then stopped as a flesh-colored spot appeared. “Oh, God,” he whispered, watching his brother tilt his head downward and slowly, carefully resume the dirt removal. The fleshy spot grew into a nose, a cheek, a chin, a neck. A butterfly charm with aquamarine wings appeared at her throat, tethered by a thin gold chain. It’s not Jessie. It can’t be Jessie, Gabriel thought over and over like a mantra. His breath quickened, forcing more wafts of steam to disperse into the heavens.
The rain hardened into stinging pelts of cold, and as it poured into the hole, it rushed at the mud, quickly washing it from the face. “God.” Sam’s voice came out in a strangled whisper as the two of them peered at Jessie’s face—pale, statuesque, dead. Long eyelashes, full lips. Brown hair matted against a forehead mottled with purple and grey, forever bruised.
Her eyelids snapped open.
Gabriel jerked upright, sweat pouring into his eyes and covering his body. He blinked rapidly, trying to forget his sister’s face, but the image remained. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and stumbled into the kitchen, half-blinded by his dead sister’s face–the one he’d never seen because Sam had tried to shield him from all the evidence once her body had been discovered, so unaware that whatever Gabriel hadn’t seen he’d made up.
He half-fumbled for the light switch and realized the kitchen was already lit up and that Maddie sat at the table, toying with a package of graham crackers next to a half-empty glass of milk. As he ambled into the room, he felt the cold tile on his bare feet. Rubbing his eyes, he headed to the coffee maker and started a fresh pot despite his bleary vision. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, plugging the coffee maker back in.
Maddie shifted her weight and grabbed the glass. “Looks like I’m not the only one,” she replied, taking a sip.
“No, I guess not,” he replied, walking to the table and sitting beside Maddie. She pushed the glass away, propped her arm across the table in an “L” shape, and rested her left cheek upon it, closing her eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” Maddie said in a low voice.
Gabriel crossed his legs at the calves. “Sure.”
“If your sister hadn’t died and could’ve testified, would you have wanted her to?”
Gabriel stiffened. “Yeah, but I don’t think she would have gotten the chance, if you want the truth.”
Pulling her head up so her chin now rested on her arm, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I think either Sam or I would’ve killed him before the case ever went to trial.” He folded his arms across his chest to conceal the way his fingers had curled into fists. “Even today, Sam would’ve preferred jail time to losing Jessie. So would I.” He scooted the chair back and walked to the coffee pot.
“I’m afraid of him.” She leaned back against the chair. “I’ve never been afraid of anything before, not even dying. But I’ve never seen anything like this. Even when cancer takes over a body, it’s not about hate or violence. It’s about one organism’s need that sacrifices another. But this...this defies explanation.” Her voice trembled violently, and she raised a trembling hand to her lips, trying to keep the tears inside. Once she’d regained her composure, she brushed the hair from her face. “He didn’t even know me, yet he hated me so thoroughly he wanted to kill me. He figured whatever he didn’t finish, the cold and snow would.” She started shaking despite the white flannel pants and button-down pajamas covering her small frame. “And there’s no reason it had to be me. He would have settled for anybody. I just happened to be the one who ran into him.”
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Gabriel turned, eyeing her profile, at the disbelieving parting of her lips and the lost gaze in her eyes. She trembled violently, and he darted back into the living room to pick up the afghan from the back of the couch that he quickly draped over her shoulders, his hands resting a moment on her shoulders before offering a reassuring squeeze and lifting.
“Maybe this will warm you up,” he offered and walked back to the coffee pot. He pulled a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter. “I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. But the sonofabitch needs to be locked away.”
“What if no one believes me? He is a cop.” She snuggled deeper into the afghan’s warm confines.
“Just because he’s a cop doesn’t mean he’s beyond doing something like this,” Gabriel replied, filling his mug with fresh coffee. “Would you like a cup?”
Eyeing the milk, she pushed it farther away. “Yeah, I would.” She rocked slowly back and forth. “Maybe it will take away this chill I can’t seem to shake.”
While reaching into the cabinet for another cup, he thought, There’s nothing but time that’s going to rid you of that kind of cold. Instead of commenting, he filled the mug and carried it to her. “Here you go. Black, the way you like it. But be careful. It’s really hot.”
“Thanks.” Pulling her hand from the layer of blanket, she took the mug, brought it to her lips, and blew on it.
“It is simple, Maddie. You’re a doctor, and, as Yolanda says, a damned good one. You heal people. You’re a good person. This SOB comes along and commits this atrocious crime against you. I don’t care if he’s a cop or the Pope. He needs to pay for his crimes. He needs to know that you recognize what a piece of shit he is.”
“He’s threatened to kill me.” She focused on her hand and the way her fingers fit through small holes in the afghan’s pattern.
“He doesn’t want to give me or Sam a reason to ‘complicate’ his life more than it already is.”
“What do you mean?”
He narrowed his gaze at Maddie. “Do you really think I came unarmed?” He lifted the button-down shirt to reveal a black shoulder holster. A black grip protruded from the gun pocket. “I’m every bit as trained as he is, and just as ready.”
She stared at his hand, watching as he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “But these charges aren’t forever, Gabriel. He will get out, and when he does, he’ll be looking for me.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, “but if you don’t press charges, he’ll always be free, not only raping other women but possibly coming back to kill you because you know who he is.”
“Oh, God.” A shudder ran through her, and Maddie tried to stop shaking but couldn’t. “Oh, God,” she whispered over and over again.
“Easy,” He whispered. The color drained from Gabriel’s face as he scooted his chair closer and wrapped his arm around her. “I know you’re afraid, but you can do this. I’ll help you any way I can.” He brushed his hand up and down her back, trying to ease the tension and to stop the trembling. “So will Sam. You’ve just got to trust us.” Leaning against her, he kept rubbing until her body slowly stilled and she could meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry you have to be here for all this.” She brushed the back of her hand across her face, wiping new tears away. “I really don’t mean to be such a bother.”
“You aren’t.” He squeezed her shoulder and pulled his arm from around her. “You’ve had one hell of a horrible month, and right now doesn’t look much better, considering what you’ve got ahead of you. But you don’t have to do it alone. Period.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I’m not just saying any of this to be nice. I’m here because I want to be, and the way Donner keeps finding clues, I’m where he wants me to be, too.”
“Maybe someday, after all this is over, I should meet this mutt.” Despite herself, Maddie couldn’t stifle a yawn, and fatigue seemed to weigh heavily on her shoulders. She tried to hide it by placing her hand over her mouth.
“Looks like the night is finally catching up with you,” Gabriel said, peering at his watch. “It’s only one in the morning.”
“Oh, is that all?” Maddie said, slowly rising from the chair. “I guess I should go back to bed. Otherwise, there won’t be any brain cells firing to give a statement tomorrow.” She walked toward the living room. “Thank you again,” she said, shuffling through the doorway.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Gabriel rose and watched her disappear down the hall as he made his way back into the living room. Sinking back on the couch, he propped one arm behind his head and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep. Still, despite his best efforts, the image of his sister in that swallow earthen grave wouldn’t depart but instead lingered until he could almost feel the rain and taste the chill of December.
Sleep seemed to avoid him, but he forced himself to close his eyes. Don’t think about Jessie, he commanded himself. Don’t even think about Maddie. Leave the past in the past and let it go. Perhaps his body recognized fatigue well enough as he drifted away into a dreamless blackness.
Chapter Fifteen
Although the house was quiet, the scent of frying bacon and baking biscuits woke Gabriel. Blinking, he sat up and swung his legs over the couch. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to comb back errant strands, but they refused to be tamed without a shower. Peering at his wrist, he mentally noted the time: 8:30. He shuffled into the kitchen, where he found Yolanda shuttling some eggs from a pan to a plate. “Good morning,” she said, keeping her gaze on the eggs.
“Morning,” he replied. “Have you seen Maddie yet?”
“She’s still sleeping.” Yolanda grabbed a potholder and walked to the oven. Opening the door, she reached inside and grabbed the pan of browned biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Always.” He shuffled to the table and sat in a chair. Leaning back, he brushed his fingers across his eyes, trying to wipe away the residue of sleep.
“Good. Enjoy it while it’s hot.” Yolanda set a plate of eggs, bacon, and biscuits in front of him, along with a fork and napkin.
“Thanks.” He set the napkin in his lap.
“You’re welcome.” She scooped more egg onto another plate and added bacon and biscuits. Plucking another fork from the drawer, she looked at Gabriel for a moment. “I’m going to take this plate to Maddie. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Gabriel watched her head down the hallway as he took a bite of his eggs. Although he usually found people were far too liberal with salt, he quickly realized Yolanda must share his minimalistic taste. Although he wasn’t usually that hungry in the morning, he quickly discovered a hearty appetite and finished half his eggs even before Yolanda had reappeared, filled her own plate, and sat down at the table beside him.
“There’s juice in the fridge. How’s the food?” she asked.
“It’s great.” He walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, which he filled with juice. “How’s Maddie?” He peered out the window at the frosted landscape sparkling in the morning light. As he stood there, the cold of the tiles penetrated his skin, chilling him.
“She’s okay.” Yolanda paused to take a bite. “I’m sure after she has a shower she’ll come out.”
“How is she holding up with the idea of giving a statement?” Carrying his orange juice, he walked back to the table and sat in his chair.
Setting the fork atop her plate, Yolanda wiped the napkin across her mouth. “I think she’s really nervous, but she hasn’t backed down, at least not yet.”
“Think she will?” He took a sip of the juice and set the glass on the table.
Yolanda rested the fork on her plate and peered ahead thoughtfully. “I wish I knew.” She turned her attention to Gabriel. “I’d like to think she’ll be okay with it, but I don’t know. I don’t even know that I would, considering all the awful things to come at the trial, all the terrible things lawyers say—the way they treat women who have been raped. Maddie is strong, but that goes way beyond a need for streng
th.”
“I know.” He picked up his glass and took another drink. “She shouldn’t have to go through this, and if there were any other way, we’d have done it. But there isn’t. We both know that.” He tilted the glass to his lips and drained the remaining juice, then finished the rest of his breakfast. The two sat in silence, each staring ahead into space instead of at each other, but both were dwelling on Maddie.
Gabriel’s thoughts flickered back to the previous night, when all hell had broken loose between him and his brother. Then there had been that exchange with Tammy. Although he knew water could never wash away the remains of each of those encounters, it couldn’t hurt to get a shower and at least try to start the day on a more positive footing. “Would it be all right if I took a shower?” Gabriel asked.
Yolanda nodded. “Yeah. There’s two bathrooms, so even if Maddie is in one, you can have the other. There are fresh towels in the cabinets. Help yourself. It’s just down the hall and to the left.”
“Thanks.” Gabriel ducked into the living room and picked up the duffle bag his brother had dropped off the previous evening. Bag in hand, he trudged down the hall until he found the bathroom and started the shower. Before the steam fogged the mirror, he peered at his reflection, the haphazard way his dark hair poked outward, the shadows beneath his eyes, the thick stubble lining his jaw and cheeks.
“You look like hell,” he told himself and turned away, adjusted the water temperature, and ducked under the warm spray.
* * *
“You can’t hide in here forever,” Maddie murmured under her breath as she sat on the bed, her hand pressed in her lap. Long strands of her hair had slipped into her face, helping to distract her from her reflection, something she didn’t want to see, not with the scar lining the side of her face, reminding her of what she wanted so desperately to forget.
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