Hazardous Homecoming

by Dana Mentink

  As they took in the sweep of grass and flowering shrubs, he found himself reaching for the iPad, which, of course, he’d left at the cabin.

  “Something caught your eye?” Ruby teased.

  He grinned. “There.”

  Ruby peered around in confusion until he moved her close and they squatted in front of an elaborately petaled red flowering plant.

  “Western lily. They’re endangered.” He took out his cell phone and clicked a series of pictures. “Awww, man. I would give my eye teeth for something to take notes on.”

  “No need to sacrifice your teeth. Here.” She handed him a spiral notebook and a stubby pencil. He planted a courtly kiss on her hand.

  She laughed. “You are easy to please.”

  He scribbled notes about the lily and the surrounding plants.

  “The position of the stamens and presence of the green star distinguish it from the pardalinium.” He looked up at the sound of her laughter. “Uh-oh. Plant geek on the loose.”

  The sunlight caught the brilliance of her smile and the spangle of freckles on her luminous skin. “I’m happy to have a fellow geek to talk to. I can go on for days about peregrine falcon taxonomy.”

  He was riveted by her eyes, filled with passion for her subject as he knew his own to be, brimming with life. She shone with the same fresh perfection of a new bloom. It took him a while to realize he was staring, so he shook himself back to reality. He was scribbling some meaningless notes to cover his discomfort when a small red pickup came around the turn in the road, moving fast. Behind it raced the sheriff’s official car.

  The pickup showed no sign of stopping until the sheriff blared his horn. Then it lurched to a halt, and the driver’s door slammed open. Molly Pickford got out and stood, hands on hips in the middle of the road.

  “Stop treating me like a criminal, Wallace,” she yelled. “I’ve had enough.”

  Sheriff Pickford heaved himself out. At this distance, his features were not clear, but Cooper could tell by the body language that the man was furious.

  Cooper looked at Ruby. It was not a scene they were meant to overhear and he felt like an eavesdropper, but there was such rage in the sheriff’s approach, Cooper feared for Molly’s safety. He took a step closer.

  Ruby gripped Cooper’s arm, and he put a hand over hers.

  Molly stood close to her husband. “If you don’t trust me, that’s your problem. Not mine.”

  “Trust? We had that twenty years ago, remember? And you broke it?”

  She slapped a hand on her thigh. “I’ve tried to make it up to you, to show you that was a mistake and it won’t happen again. I’ve done everything I can to make up for what I did. When will I be forgiven, Wallace?”

  “Maybe when you stop running off to see other men at every opportunity. Where have you been? Hanging out at a certain diner, maybe, now that he’s back in town?”

  “I’m not even going to answer that. You know that was over a long time ago.”

  “And what about your other gentleman friend? You see him on a regular basis.”

  “I drop in sometimes, because we’re friends. That’s what friends do. If you had any, you’d know that.”

  “I have a wife, and she’s supposed to be my best friend.”

  “Well maybe it’s time for you to get a new wife, Wallace, because clearly I don’t fit the bill.”

  He took a step forward and Cooper tensed. “I’m going to let them know we’re here,” Cooper whispered, but Pickford’s next words left him frozen to the spot.

  “You won’t leave me, Molly. Not for him, not for any man.”

  “You don’t own me,” she said.

  Pickford’s voice dropped to a lower range, something plaintive in the words. “What does he have? What makes him so attractive, Moll?”

  “I told you, he’s just a friend, but he trusts me to make the right decisions. I wish you did the same. Now unless you’re going to arrest me, I’m going to go back home and take a walk.”

  “Alone?”

  Without answering, she whirled on her heel and got back into the pickup, driving away at a good clip.

  Pickford stared after her for a while. He kicked the door of his car with such force his booted foot dented the metal. Ruby let out a cry, hand tightening on Cooper’s arm. Pickford heard it. He stared in their direction for a moment before turning, and wrenching open the door. He spun the car into a messy turn and roared off.

  “Do you suppose he saw us?” Cooper noticed Ruby looking not at the retreating police car, but in the direction Molly had taken. “What do you make of that?”

  Ruby chewed her lip. “Pickford thinks his wife is having an affair. Apparently she had one before, years ago, and now that she’s friends with another man, Pickford can’t stand it.”

  “This ‘friend’ better watch his back. Who do you think it is?”

  Ruby continued to stare after the departed pickup, her eyes round and fearful. “My father.”

  * * *

  Ruby was grateful that Cooper remained in shocked silence for a few beats while she collected herself. She had not realized until just that moment how Molly’s friendship with her father played into the larger picture. Molly had been a huge help to Perry after they moved to Silver Peak, especially in matters where a woman’s touch was required. Molly helped Ruby buy a homecoming dress, comforted her when her various high school loves had dumped her.

  “She brings cookies every so often,” Ruby mused aloud. “Chocolate chip, my father’s favorite.”

  Cooper didn’t say anything.

  “It’s not an affair,” she hastened to add. “They’re friends. Dad’s supported Molly and offered her advice sometimes, but that’s as far as it goes. My brother said she was in bad trouble a long time ago, and Dad helped her out. Just good friends.”

  “Pickford seems to think otherwise.”

  Ruby’s stomach tightened as she recalled a scene from the past when Pickford had shown up and gotten into a shouting match with her father. Mick had joined their father, shoulders squared and hands in fists. Ruby remembered thinking how big her brother looked then, as he squared off against Pickford.

  She’d heard only one bit of the encounter.

  “...thrown in jail,” Pickford had bellowed.

  She’d wondered then as she wondered now. Was it Mick he’d threatened with jail? Or her father? She shook away the memory and focused on Cooper. “Really, I’m telling you my father would not have an affair with a married woman.”

  “I know you believe that.”

  Her jaw tightened. “But you don’t? You think he’s that kind of man?”

  He folded his arms. “I don’t know your father at all. And recently I’ve heard...”

  “Heard what?”

  “Nothing. You know your father and you trust him. Does it matter what I think?”

  For some reason that she could not fathom, it did matter what Cooper thought. “You’re right, I know him better than you do.”

  “And you want me to believe in him, Ruby, just like we wanted your family to believe in my brother, but you didn’t.” He flung an arm wide. “No one in this whole town did, except come to find out, Hank Bradford. Heather’s father.”

  “What does he have to do with this?”

  “Nothing much. One voice among hundreds.” Cooper sighed and looked at the ground. “I guess the point is, it’s hard for me to trust your family when you didn’t trust mine.”

  “My father investigated. That’s all.”

  Cooper stared sadly at her. “Investigated. And ordered his family to stay away. What did he tell you? If you see Cooper or Peter in the woods, come home immediately. Don’t play with Cooper at school. Give the required level of courtesy and that’s it. No more friendship.”

 
Her stomach fell to her feet. “I never...”

  But she had. A memory floated back to her, a young Cooper calling to her to see a bird’s nest he’d located in a tall tree on the school playground. Cooper had taken to playing by himself after Alice disappeared. She’d assumed it was by choice, but maybe the other children’s parents told their kids to stay away from him, too. On that day, his face lit up as she started toward him, then crumbled as she remembered her father’s warnings and she turned away, like all the other kids had.

  “He was protecting me,” she whispered.

  “And you think a seven-year-old kid would see it that way?”

  A breeze caught some fallen leaves and sent them cartwheeling on the wind. “I’m sorry, Cooper.” Tears pricked her eyes. “Truly, I am sorry I hurt you. I never meant to.” On impulse she embraced him and kissed his cheek, allowing her lips to trail over his tanned skin. She felt him shiver, a ripple that passed through his body into hers. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” He buried his head in the hollow of her neck. “The person who took Alice hurt us all. I still struggle to let it go. You, too?” The last words were hoarse, whispered into her hair.

  She nodded, throat thick. “I thought finding the locket would be a good thing at first, but now I’m not so sure.”

  He held her, long arms cradling her as her cheek found rest against his hard chest. “I believe this is all going to work out.”

  The steady beat of his heart seemed to slow her own hammering pulse as warmth trickled through her veins. “Will we get the answers we want, Cooper?”

  His fingers slowed on her back. “They may not be the ones we want, but they’re the ones we need.”

  SEVEN

  Things were happening too quickly for Cooper’s comfort. Every day he spent in Silver Peak seemed to plunge him deeper into the shadows of the past, and secrets flickered to life like the birds in the branches. He was simultaneously drawn to Ruby and repelled by the residual hurt and anger that lingered deep down within him. She represented a past so dark that it took every ounce of his faith to believe they would ever escape it.

  The path down to the lake was steep, and they had to work hard to keep their footing in places where the ground was slick with mud. Didn’t matter. Signs of spring burgeoned around him, as countless tiny green plants sprang to life on the edges of the path. Laboring next to Ruby, he could not hold back a chuckle.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Just struck me as funny. You are constantly looking up and I’m perpetually looking down.” Seeing her smile lifted something inside him.

  “I’m looking for birds.”

  “And I’m looking for buds.” He gestured upward. “Though you do have a pretty thriving community of fir and cedar, I noticed.”

  “And best of all,” she said, voice dropping as they approached a massive pine, “the eagles are back.”

  He followed her gaze to a tree that stood sentinel away from the others on an impossibly rocky spit of land. An immense, conical-shaped nest stood out against the branches. They stopped to watch an eagle waddling gingerly around the nest.

  “She’s one of my favorites. We call her Sheila. She lost an eye to injury, but she’s seen ten babies fledge over the years. Her mate arrives and adds sticks and such to the nest, but she doesn’t like his style because after he leaves she redecorates. It’s funny to watch.”

  “Eaglets in the nest now?”

  She nodded. “One, I think. Most of the time if there are two, the stronger one will kill the other.”

  He whistled. “Not easy being an eagle.”

  She sighed. “True.”

  They walked by, taking pains to keep quiet, though Cooper figured the eagles would not be the least bit nonplussed by the clumsy humans some two hundred feet below.

  The sun reached its full golden splendor as the trail led them to Sunstone Lake. Wind-teased ripples sparkled on the surface of the oval-shaped water ringed by a thick carpet of fir, cedar and pine. The lake bulged out into various inlets both large and small, concealed by dense groupings of trees, flanked on the far side by a rocky cliff. Clusters of birds floated on the surface and others he could not identify scuttled busily along the shore. A cacophony of bird conversation filled the air.

  Ruby sighed with pleasure. “Spring is busy here. We’re a prime stop on the Pacific Flyway.”

  He knew. The Pacific Flyway was a route for migratory birds in America. They traversed that great invisible path from Alaska to Patagonia, following the food, looking for places to spend the winter and raise their babies.

  “Your guests are pretty predictable?”

  “Some arrivals I can almost time down to the exact day. Others...” She broke off. “Did you hear that?”

  He nodded. “Boat engine. Can barely make it out over this bird chatter. You allow fishing here?”

  She shook her head. “The land is strictly private property, no public access, and we don’t have docks. We don’t own the north shore, though. We have sort of an informal agreement about that.”

  He gazed toward the far side of the lake, too distant to see clearly, inlets tucked away like long-kept secrets. “Who lives there?”

  “The Pickfords, since before we arrived. We’ve never had any trouble. They know how important the springtime is for our birds,” she said with a frown. “They wouldn’t venture out on this side of the lake, not now.”

  The engine noise died away, but Cooper’s uneasy feeling did not. He watched the progress of a bald eagle as it swooped from a tree branch toward the water. Heavy wings slowed the bird, shifting the headlong dive into a talons-first approach. Cooper saw the strong claws flex as the bird plucked a trout from the water, soaring back to its lofty perch, the entire intricate ballet over in fewer than sixty seconds.

  He blinked and realized Ruby was watching him.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” she said.

  He exhaled long and slow. “Only God could make a living thing as incredible as that.”

  “I used to think so, too,” she said. “But how...?” She looked away.

  The need in her voice struck at him. “How what?”

  She looked at him full on, challenge burning in her chocolate eyes, arms crossed around her body. “If He makes life, why doesn’t He take care of it?”

  He knew what she meant. A little child...a tiny vulnerable being, snatched away, helpless, like the fish. Alive and carefree one moment and then gone the next.

  He chose his words carefully. “People have been trying to figure that out since the beginning of time. Job got a whole book in the Bible, and he asked the same thing.”

  “And what did God answer?”

  “That He loves us and He’s God and we don’t get to understand everything.”

  Ruby’s eyes hardened. “That’s not good enough.”

  He sighed. “I feel the same way sometimes, but I choose to trust Him.”

  She took a step back. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  He wanted to take her hand, to embrace her and ease away that stark, flat anguish in her voice, but she moved from him, scanning the wide expanse teeming with feathered life.

  “I don’t know why we came here.” She gestured at the lake. “It doesn’t even look the same after twenty years. The trees have thickened, and we’ve had various rockfalls that pinched off pockets of water so even the outline of the lake is different. How could we possibly find anything to help us figure out what happened to Alice?”

  “One thing that hasn’t changed too much is the highest point—that rock cliff, I’m thinking.” Cooper pointed to an ash-colored cliff, triangular in shape, that loomed over the far side of the lake. “Let’s get a bird’s-eye view, shall we?”

  She huffed. “For what purpose?”

  “If nothing else, I
could use the exercise.”

  “You just went running this morning.”

  “For your information, I intend to power down some mint chip ice cream later today, so I’ve got to stay active.” Again, he’d won a smile. “And besides, wouldn’t you like to check out your nesting sites on the far shore?”

  He saw the desire flare up in her eyes. “The rocks are unstable there. We’ve had some slides. Mick insists I go with an escort.”

  “How fortunate,” he said, doffing an imaginary cap, “that your humble servant is here to escort you.”

  With the sound of her laughter dancing in his ears, they started off for the far side of the lake.

  * * *

  Even though Ruby knew it was an exercise in futility, she could not help but enjoy the hike. Cooper’s all-inclusive knowledge of botany complemented her own bird compendium, and his enthusiasm fed her own. Now she saw the lake through different eyes, as if she’d been given a peek at the comprehensive botanical underpinnings that supported the thriving bird community. A bird geek and a plant nerd. What a perfect pair they would be if their past history wasn’t such a disaster.

  When they reached the tumbled rock pile at the bottom of the cliff, they slowed their pace. The sandstone bluff rose in glittering splendor, cracked and splintered by the elements. It had been a long time since Ruby had made the climb to the top and that had been a hurried trek with Mick. Something about the erratic wind, the rising walls of the cliff that muted the bird noises, made her uneasy. Mick seemed to enjoy scouting the cliff side for caves, which appeared and disappeared over time behind screens of shrubbery and falling rubble. When Alice was snatched they had brought search dogs that had scoured these very slopes without finding a trace of the child. But what if the spring rains had diluted the scent? Suppose she’d come, or been brought here, imprisoned in a rocky tomb, and the dogs and searchers had passed her by?

  Ruby shivered.

  “You all right?”

  “Sure, of course.” She moved by him, eager to get the climb over and done with. The sandstone afforded a smooth path in some spots and in others the grit left them scrambling for traction.