by Cate Beauman
Jenny nodded, sucking in several shuddering breaths.
“Go wash your face. We’ve got brownies to make and games to play.”
“I don’t think I want to make brownies.”
She didn’t want them herself, but Jenny needed as normal an afternoon as Reagan could give her. “Either you help me or I’m making them on my own.”
She wiped at her tears with her shoulder. “I don’t think we can handle the house burnin’ down too.”
Reagan smiled despite the turmoil.
“I guess I’ll go wash my face.”
“That’s a good choice.” She took Faith. “Take a few deep breaths and collect yourself.”
Jenny nodded and walked away.
She waited for Jenny to shut herself in the bathroom and sat down, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead against the baby’s, taking several shuddering breaths of her own as she rocked.
“Reagan?”
She looked up, realizing Chase was staring down at her, and she rushed to her feet.
“I talked to Ethan.”
“What did he say?”
“Not a whole lot at this point. I’m going to talk to the police when they’re finished up and call him back. He and the director will decide what to do from there.”
Of course they would. Because one disaster today wasn’t quite enough. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’m not sure what the plan is from here—”
“Oh, come on, Chase,” she scoffed. “I think we both do. The director’s going to close up shop and leave me here with two girls and no security.”
“We’re not going to just leave you here alone.”
“For how long? Is your boss going to give up one of his men for the next year if that’s what it comes down to? Jenny’s mother is going to fight me.” And more than likely win.
“I don’t know how we’ll handle it, but we will.”
She didn’t have much hope for anything. “Right. Thanks.” She walked off to her room, not sure of what to do anymore.
~~~~
“It looks like another win for you,” Reagan said as she tallied her final score on the bottom of her Yahtzee sheet.
“I guess so.” Jenny smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Are you up for one more round?”
Jenny shook her head, putting the dice back in the box. “I think I’m gonna take Faith to bed.”
“What about a bowl of cereal first?” Jenny hadn’t eaten much—not that she had either, even though they’d taken the time to tackle Sophie McCabe’s recipe for roasted pork tenderloin and garlic mashed potatoes while the brownies they baked cooled.
She wrinkled her nose and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m not hungry.”
“How about a game of UNO—best of three?” She’d spent the last several hours trying to preoccupy Jenny and banish the troubled look from her eyes—first in the kitchen, then with movies and games and playtime with Faith, but despite her best efforts, Jenny spent much of the afternoon and evening in tears.
“No thanks.”
“Okay.” She stood, taking Jenny’s hand as the teenager’s eyes welled yet again. “We’re going to find a solution.” She tucked Jenny’s long strands of blond hair behind the girl’s ear. “I want you to get some rest and not worry too much.” She was worried enough for the both of them. When she and Chase spoke after dinner, Ethan was still waiting to hear back from the director, and her conversation with her attorney had done nothing to ease her mind. Everything about their lives was in limbo.
Jenny sniffled and picked up Faith from the bouncy seat where she’d fallen asleep. “Do you think maybe you could sleep with us?”
“Sure, but I’m not quite ready for bed. I have a bit of work to catch up on. She wrapped her arm around Jenny’s waist. “Come on. I’ll walk with you.”
Jenny burrowed herself against Reagan’s side as they moved down the hall, then she settled herself and the sleeping baby in her bed.
Reagan covered them up, making certain the curtains were closed tight, and kissed Jenny’s forehead, then her finger, touching Faith’s nose. “I’ll be in soon.”
“Okay.”
“Get some sleep.”
Jenny nodded and settled on her side, snuggling Faith.
“Goodnight.”
“Reagan?”
“Yeah?” She stopped, turning in the doorway.
“What if the judge makes me go back?” She sat up as tears trailed down her cheeks in the light of the dim lamp on the bedside table. “What if tonight’s the last night I get to sleep here?”
She swallowed, making sure her voice was confident as she fought with her own tears. “It won’t be.”
Her lips trembled as she shuddered out a long breath. “But what if it is?”
She gripped the doorframe, desperate for strength. “I won’t let it be.”
“But—”
“I’ll camp out in your mother’s lawn for the next year if I have to.”
A small smile creased Jenny’s lips. “You’d do that for me?”
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”
Her smile widened. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie.” She blew Jenny a kiss and closed the door halfway before going to her room. She sat at her desk, struggling with the weight on her chest, the urge to cry never far away.
Sighing, she stared at the stack of mail, noting the envelopes with the familiar Canadian postmark. She grabbed the nondescript white business envelope addressed to her and tore it open, taking out a strip.
…progressive massive fibrosis rates are skyrocketing in smaller mines scattered throughout Appalachia.
She ripped open the yellow package next and fished out another slim white slip.
…under-diagnosis and simple prevention are the biggest issues miners face.
She lined up the ten pieces she had, switching them around in several combinations, trying to make the sentences read cohesively, but eventually she gave up and shook her head. She glanced at more envelopes among the pile, but didn’t have the energy or desire to see if she could string together more of Doctor Schlibenburg’s article—for surely that’s what this was. Slowly more answers were coming, but that mattered little now. Jenny and Faith were running out of time to stay where she could keep them safe.
She glanced toward her windows, knowing the moon shined bright beyond the curtains and that the worst of the mess the vandals left behind had been photographed and taken away, but her problems still remained. In little more than twelve hours she and Jenny would meet with the judge. Jenny and Faith’s fate rested in one man’s hands. The next year of their lives would be dictated by someone who had the power to tell them they couldn’t stay together.
Her phone rang, and she jumped, staring at the office line sitting at her side. She let it ring again and a third time, already knowing she would hear the retched hissing voice if she answered. With little choice, she picked up, not wanting to wake Jenny if she had actually fallen asleep. “This is Doctor Rosner.”
“You’re gonna die,” someone whispered. “You, Devil Fed, is gonna die.”
Her head whipped up and she rushed to her feet with the familiar wave of dread. “Shut up. Stop calling here, dammit. Stop calling here.” She slammed down the phone, her breath heaving, unable to take any more. Walking to her bed, she pressed her hands to her face and gave into her tears, weeping with the heavy burden of true helplessness.
~~~~
Shane logged off of his computer, closing his laptop when his office line beeped. He picked it up, holding the receiver with his shoulder, and shoved the laptop into its leather sleeve. “Yeah?”
“It’s Ethan. Can you come down to my office?”
“Sure. I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.”
He hung up as the phone on his belt rang. “What the hell?” It was almost seven thirty, and he was busier now than he had been at five. He glanced at the r
eadout and answered, knowing it was late in Kentucky.
“Shane, it’s Chase.”
His shoulders tensed, noting the strain in Chase’s voice. “What’s going on?”
“Has Ethan talked to you yet?”
He rubbed at his jaw. “No. What’s up?”
“We’ve had some issues around here today—several, but that’s not why I’m calling. It’s Reagan.”
His stomach sank, and he steamed out a long breath. “What’s wrong with Reagan?”
“She’s been dealing with a hell of a lot.”
He frowned. “I just talked to her last night. She sounded fine.” More than fine.
“She’s not.”
“Go ahead and expand on that,” he said impatiently as he stood, walking to the window, staring out at the lights of Los Angeles.
“She’s pretty much been falling apart since the baby’s been sick.”
“Jenny said Faith had a cold.”
“Faith was in the hospital for three days.”
“What?”
“It was pretty serious—high fever, croup, and a double ear infection.”
He fisted his hand on the glass. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“I figured Jenny had until we were talking earlier today, then everything went to hell. Jenny’s emancipation might not be happening after all, and I think there’s stuff going on around here Reagan hasn’t been telling me about. I just walked passed her room and heard her slam down the phone after she told someone to stop calling. Now she’s crying—really crying, man.”
I avoid crying at all costs. It gives me a headache. Closing his eyes, he grit his teeth.
“I don’t know what went on between the two of you. It’s none of my business, but she’s a mess. I thought you would want to know.”
He knew he never should’ve left. “Let me go talk to Ethan, and I’ll get back to you. If anything else happens in the meantime I want to know.”
“You’ve got it.”
He hung up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck.”
“Bad day?”
He turned, looking at Amber smiling in the doorway, wearing a sinful black dress. “Shit, Amber, this isn’t a good time. I have a meeting with Ethan, then I’m heading out of town.”
“I thought we might be able to catch a late dinner.”
“I can’t.”
“I guess not. Where are you going?”
“Back to Kentucky.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, closing the door. “Look, this isn’t going to work. I haven’t been entirely honest with you. There’s a woman—a doctor in Kentucky.”
She raised her brows. “And you two have a thing.”
“Yeah. Or we did. We still might.” He shook his head as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t really looking for anything serious anyway.”
He gave her a hug. “Thanks for understanding.”
She hugged him back before she drew away. “Catch me the next time you’re in town.”
“I’ll call you.”
She kissed his cheek. “Good luck with the doctor.”
“I’ll take it. I’ve gotta go.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He moved down the hall and walked into Ethan’s office, shutting the door. “What the hell’s going on, man?”
“Take a seat.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck as he sat in the leather chair across from his friend.
“I’m sending someone out to help Chase.”
“I’m going.”
“I figured as much, but I wanted to let you give me the yay or nay, since you weren’t too thrilled to head out there last time.”
“I’ll go,” he said again.
“I’ll book your flight.”
He bumped his leg up and down, riddled with nervous energy, ready to be on his way. “I just got off the phone with Chase. He said some stuff happened today.”
“Things are heating up again.” Ethan handed over the pictures of crosses, burning animals, and spray paint.
Shane stopped on the photo of DOCTOR DEVIL scrawled across the cabin porch, his stomach curdling with the idea that they were dealing with this while he was out here. Jenny had to be scared to death. “We need to get them out of there.”
“Chase says the doctor is hell bent on staying.”
He met Ethan’s stare. “Reagan won’t leave without the kids, and I guess the emancipation’s in jeopardy. I didn’t get all the details. It’s a fucking mess, and I need to go.”
“I just got off the phone with the director. He’s shutting them down in one week. He’s giving Reagan time to deal with paperwork and final inventories and then it’s over.”
“Fucking-A.” He stood, unable to be still. “I can’t leave them there.”
“Get packed. I’ll see if I can get you a redeye.”
“Thanks.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Reagan opened her eyes in the dim light filtering in around the edges of the curtains, moaning as she sat up slowly in her bed. She pressed her fingers to her temples as her head throbbed viciously, the way it always did when she fell asleep crying. Blinking, she studied the wrinkles in her shirt and the khaki slacks she never bothered to change out of and stood, fighting the small wave of dizziness as she walked to the bathroom. She opened the medicine cabinet and shook a Tylenol into her hand, swallowing it with a quick gulp from the tap. Turning on the shower next, she took off her clothes and stepped into the warm spray, closing her eyes and hanging her head, letting the steam and water work their magic on her painfully tense muscles.
She washed slowly, taking her time as she bathed her skin in lavender suds and worked shampoo through her hair, then rinsed and added conditioner. This was exactly what she needed—five blessed minutes to herself to pretend her problems didn’t exist. For the next few moments, her issues with the town and Jenny’s now-complicated court hearing were a dilemma for another day. But even as she told herself so, her lips trembled, and she pressed them firm, doing her best to shake off the need to weep as the weight of her constant worry sat heavily on shoulders that couldn’t take much more.
Sighing, she turned off the water and dried herself, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. She needed to start taking better care of herself. Her appetite had been off with all of the stress, and her energy was almost nonexistent. She could hardly care for Jenny and Faith if she continued on as she was now.
She pulled on her robe and went to the kitchen, making herself herbal tea in the quiet house, and grabbed a banana on her way back to her room. Sitting at her desk, she sipped the soothing chamomile and sunk her teeth into the sweet fruit for a healthy dose of nutrients, then started through the rest of the mail she’d abandoned last night. She sorted the junk from actual correspondences, craving some semblance of order, and picked up an envelope at random, opening the bill for her Manhattan storage unit and set it aside in her to-do pile for the day. She sipped tea again, ate more banana, and ripped into another Canadian postmarked envelope, ready to get back to Doctor Schlibenburg’s shredded paper.
…Corpus Mining, among the other companies under the McPhee family umbrella.
She frowned. What other companies under the McPhee family umbrella? As far as she knew, there was only Corpus Mining. She picked up her pen, scribbling down McPhee and circled it when the phone at her side rang. Huffing out a breath, she braced herself as she picked up, not quite ready for another death threat or some other nasty comment. “This is Doctor Rosner.”
“Doctor Rosner, this is Detective Reedy.”
She blinked. “Detective Reedy.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, Detective. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m calling because we’re at a bit of a standstill in Doctor Schlibenburg’s case. My partner and I have decided to start back at the beginning and reexamine all of our information, which led me back to our
conversation and you mentioning x-rays you left with the doctor.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly do the x-ray films look like?”
She frowned at the odd question. Didn’t everyone know what films looked like? “Uh, large rectangles—green-tinged for detailed examination.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t bring them back to Black Bear Gap with you? I know you mentioned you left in a hurry.”
“I’m positive. I purposely set them on the coffee table by the couch.”
“We’ve taken some time to follow a few different leads, but I recently went back to search the property and didn’t see anything.”
“The images should be in a brown film box.”
“A box?”
“Yes. It says Medical X-ray film on it. I also wrote Black Bear Gap Clinic along the top in permanent marker.”
“And you said they were in the living room when you left?”
“Yes. Eight images—front and lateral views of four patients’ lungs. But I can’t say what Doctor Schlibenburg did with them after I left. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him again.”
“I’ll go back today and take another look. I’m sure I just missed them.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” Although she didn’t believe that any more than the Detective did. Someone took the images, along with Doctor Schlibenburg’s life. She nibbled her lip, contemplating mentioning the black car she believed had followed her back from Berea and the man with the brown leather jacket she saw at the mall and hotel, but said nothing, thinking better of the idea. The last thing she wanted to do was put herself and the girls in an even more precarious situation—especially with the very real possibility she, Jenny, and Faith would be stuck in The Gap for several months to come without any sort of protection. “Please let me know if you have trouble finding the films.”
“I’ll be in touch.”