A Gift of Time (Tassamara)

by Sarah Wynde

  A funny little smile was playing on Akira’s mouth as she shook her head, and answered, voice gentle, “No, we’re good. I’ll go wait in the car.”

  Colin began his search at the back of the house. Mindful of Nat’s words about Kenzi hiding, he was careful to be more thorough than his deputies might have been. In her bathroom, he pushed towels out of the way to confirm that Kenzi wasn’t hidden in the closet. Nat’s towels were dark green and lush. He ignored the mental flash of what she would look like, stepping out of the shower, wrapped in one of them, her dark hair wet and drops of water still clinging to her skin.

  He flipped open the top of the wicker hamper and glanced inside. A sky-blue shirt with skinny straps where shoulders should be lay almost on top. Nat’s. She’d been wearing it the previous day under a deeper blue cotton sweater. It would do for the dogs. He bagged it, not letting his hands brush against the lacy bra sitting next to it or his memories turn to other days, other lacy bras.

  In her bedroom, he tried to pay no attention at all to the king-size bed, the fluffy comforter, the sleek cotton sheets. He refused to let himself think about what it would have been like to be with Nat here. But he spotted the box sticking out from underneath. Nat wouldn’t have left it that way. His eyes narrowed as he crouched down. To his disappointment, Kenzi wasn’t under the bed. His deputies wouldn’t have missed her if she was, he knew, but he’d had a moment of hope. Nat’s actions might have made more sense if Kenzi were safe inside the house.

  The living room held no hiding places, nor was anything in disarray. Nat’s house was as tidy as his own office. But Colin paused in the doorway to the front bedroom. A dollhouse lay tipped on its side, furnishings scattered on the floor. Apart from the broken glass in the kitchen, it was the only sign of mess. Colin stepped into the room, wondering. Had Kenzi knocked the heavy toy over? Or had Nat? And why?

  Nat’s easel stood in the fading light by the window, a canvas propped on it. Colin glanced at it and then blinked in surprise. Photos of Max Latimer tacked to the wall in front of the easel suggested Nat should be painting a portrait of her father. But the charcoal sketch on the canvas didn’t look like Max. His eyes narrowed as he studied it. It was just a simple line drawing. Maybe the likeness would get better as she worked? But no. The eyes were wrong and so was the mouth. The nose—eh, maybe. But the whole structure of the face looked off to him, too angular, too stern.

  How long did it take to do a sketch like this? Had Nat seen the man at the door from the window? Thoughtfully, he looked back at the dollhouse. Kenzi wouldn’t have been frightened by a knock at the door, but maybe…

  Pulling out his phone, he photographed the sketch and tapped out a quick text to Joyce as he sent it. It was a long shot, but if she passed it around the department, someone might recognize the man.

  As he stepped out of the house into the twilight, mentally he was making lists: people to call, orders to give, the next steps he should be taking. But part of his brain couldn’t help puzzling over the pieces. The broken glass, the blood on the porch, the spilled dollhouse, the box out of place, the portrait—Colin felt like he was missing something obvious. Something so obvious it was going to hurt when he realized what it was.

  The sun was setting over the lake. Colin grimaced. Full darkness arrived early during the winter. Another couple of hours of daylight would have been useful, given him more time to get a full-fledged search underway. And then he stopped moving, standing absolutely still as he looked at the reflection of the light on the water.

  Time.

  Every clue he’d found added up to time, to seconds turning into minutes—minutes during which his deputies and GD’s security team rushed to the scene. How had Nat’s kidnappers escaped? They shouldn’t have. They couldn’t have.

  But they had.

  Little threads were starting to weave themselves together into a map inside his head—a map pointing straight to the lake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Natalya regretted the Christmas trifle. Also the Christmas cookies. Also the two plus years since she’d practiced yoga regularly, in an actual studio, with an instructor who’d push her to work harder. In fact, it felt as if she was finally paying for every one of the extra pounds she’d shrugged off over the years.

  “A canoe? Who uses a canoe for a getaway car?” she muttered, as she dipped her oar into the dank water of one of the small canals connecting one lake to another.

  She glanced over her shoulder in time to catch the disgusted look Travis shot her. He was in the stern, steering. Mitchell and Kenzi—Mac, Natalya mentally corrected herself—huddled in the middle. Natalya had the bow. It had made sense at the time, as much as anything about this whole experience made sense. Travis knew where they were going, Mitchell was injured, and she was far stronger than Kenzi. But her arms ached with the exertion and the canoe was so low in the water from their combined weight that each sloppy swing brought a little more water into the bottom of the boat.

  “He don’t know how to drive,” Mitchell volunteered.

  “Shut up, Mitchell.” The words were automatic, as if Travis said them as a matter of routine. “I coulda figured it out if we had a car. But we don’t.”

  Natalya kept paddling. The light was going. It was getting darker and colder and she really hoped their destination wasn’t too much farther away. But Travis had refused to answer any questions about where they were headed. He hadn’t been threatening about it—the gun had disappeared into the back of his pants as if he’d forgotten it—but she didn’t want to alienate him by pushing.

  Not yet, anyway.

  She suspected the boy didn’t have a plan. He was ricocheting from one emergency to the next. Running away with his injured brother, finding his missing sister, keeping his family safe. Did he have any idea what his next move would be? Pulling a gun on her would have been disastrous if the police had arrived sooner.

  Still, maybe he hadn’t done so badly. Even in semi-darkness, Travis navigated as if he knew exactly where he was going. “How did you find us?” she asked impulsively.

  He grunted. “Got lucky.” He looked toward Kenzi and grinned, a smile that warmed his eyes, his expression practically doting. “Real lucky.”

  “Okay.” Natalya paused to swat at an errant mosquito. Didn’t the damn bugs know it was midwinter? She slid her paddle back in the water. “But how?”

  “Went on a food run, heard people talking.” Travis sounded positively cheerful.

  Natalya frowned. What people? And what had they been saying? “Where was that?” she asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as she felt. Apparently she and Kenzi were out in the dark and cold and wet, getting munched on by bugs, because people couldn’t keep their big mouths shut.

  “There’s this real little town, like two streets big.”

  “Tassamara. I know it.” The town was much bigger than its tiny downtown area would suggest, but Natalya didn’t feel the need to explain that to Travis. If he didn’t know as much, they probably lived closer to one of the other nearby towns.

  “Weird place. But if you go to the restaurant there and order the special to go, you get a big bag of food, big enough to feed all of us. Good stuff, too. Like last time, she gave us soup and turkey sandwiches and muffins and these huge chocolate chip cookies, big as your head almost.” The thought of food was making Travis positively loquacious.

  Mitchell’s stomach rumbled loudly. He pressed a hand to it. “I’m hungry again, Travis.”

  “Aw, man, Mitchell. Not yet,” the older boy protested.

  “I can’t help it.” Mitchell sniffled. Kenzi pressed herself against him, looking up into his face with worry.

  “Jamie didn’t eat the soup last time,” Travis said, sounding worried. “You can have that when we get back. And maybe there’s some of those crackers left.”

  “Okay.”

  The resignation in Mitchell’s voice made Natalya want to reach out to him and ruffle his hair, right before bringing him back to her house
and feeding him a huge pot of spaghetti. Instead, she pressed her lips together to stop herself from pointing out the obvious to Travis. She and Kenzi were going to need to eat, too. He’d multiplied his problems by adding two more mouths to feed. But it wouldn’t kill her to go hungry for a night and she was sure Zane would find them as soon as he got home.

  “How long have you guys been on your own?” she asked instead.

  “Not long,” Travis said briefly, as Mitchell said, “A long time.”

  Travis sighed. “Hang on.” He put up a hand, signaling Natalya to stop. With relief, she rested her paddle across her lap. In front of them, the over-hanging trees were opening up, as the winding stream reached one of the small lakes or springs that dotted the area.

  Slowly, Travis steered them forward. He paused, paddle motionless. In the stillness, Natalya could hear the lively buzz of insects, a few chirps of sleepy birds, and the occasional splash of water on rock. But no sounds of cars or people. She tried to map out the geography in her head: they’d headed west from her house, then north, so they could be nearing Dirt Lake or Lake New, maybe Lake Deer. But they’d paddled into a small stream off her lake, crossed another small lake, headed up a canal, passed through one of the springs and kept going, and she’d quickly lost track of the direction in which they were moving.

  She had no idea where they were, she admitted to herself. She was familiar with the area around her house and some of the nearby recreation areas, but she’d never simply headed into the wilderness the way Travis had. She hadn’t even realized so many of the lakes connected. She knew, in the abstract, that there were over six hundred lakes in the area, but most of them were so small they barely had names.

  “All right,” he said. “Fast now.”

  With sure, strong strokes, he headed straight out into an open body of water. Natalya didn’t protest, just tried to match her pace to his. Her muscles were groaning by the time they reached a short dock extending into the water. And it was full dark, a darkness lit by a rising moon and thousands of stars. A building loomed before them.

  Travis held the canoe steady as Mitchell and Kenzi scrambled out. “Go on up to the house,” he ordered them. “Jamie’s hurting bad. We’ll put the canoe away.”

  “Hang on,” Natalya protested. Her feet were soaked and uncomfortable and the cold, although it didn’t bite, was unpleasant, but her discomfort wasn’t why she stopped them. “I want to see him before Kenzi does her thing.”

  “Why?” Travis sounded revolted, as if she were voyeuristic instead of worried.

  “Lawyers, judges, and social workers, remember?” Natalya said with a snap. She shouldn’t antagonize him, she knew, but her arms hurt, her shoulders hurt, her stomach muscles hurt, and she was hungry, too. “They like witnesses. Especially ones with Doctor in front of their names. I want to see his injuries before they’re healed.”

  “That don’t matter. We ain’t never going back,” Travis snapped back at her. “Never.”

  Natalya gritted her teeth, sliding her paddle into the canoe with a clatter. This kid was a pain in the ass. He so was going back—although not to the foster home he’d run away from, that was for sure. But they’d find him a new home, a better home.

  Kenzi plopped down on the dock, crossing her legs as if she planned to stay for awhile.

  Natalya bit back her smile. She had an ally—a very small, but very powerful ally. “Let’s get this canoe put away, shall we? We’ll all go up to the house together.”

  Grudgingly, Travis allowed that the canoe didn’t need to be put away immediately. “I’ll need it again later anyway.”

  Natalya’s eyebrows lifted. The canoe was small enough that a solo paddler could manage it, but canoeing after dark sounded dangerous to her. One unnoticed spur of an underwater cypress or tree root and he’d be in the water. And the night was chilly. Hypothermia could be fatal at fifty degrees if he got wet.

  But she kept her silence and clambered out onto the dock, trying not to get any wetter than she already was. Once she was safely out, Travis grunted, paddling forward to beach the boat on the sandy shore. Kenzi took Nat’s hand as they walked together down the dock, Mitchell ahead of them. They met Travis at the foot of the dock.

  In the dim light from the moon, Natalya looked up at the building in front of them. “What is this place?” she asked, voice hushed as if something about the night and the stillness made talking risky. It looked at least three stories high, a solid wall of darkness.

  “Best squat ever.” It sounded as if Mitchell gave a skip of happiness with the words.

  “Shut up, Mitchell.” Travis’s tone was world-weary, resigned, as he turned to lead the way. “It’s just a house.”

  “A really big-ass house,” Mitchell chortled.

  “Mitchell,” Travis barked. Kenzi’s hand tightened around Natalya’s and then relaxed as Travis added, “Watch your language. No swearing around Mac.”

  “Sorry, Mac.” Mitchell’s apology was immediate and cheerful. “But it’s way cool. It’s got two swimming pools, one inside, one out. We can’t swim, ‘cause they’re all gross and stuff, but there’s like a ton of rooms and a tennis court and this one room, it’s like a movie theater. It’s got seats in rows and everything.”

  Natalya followed the boys into the darkness, her brain churning. Which one of the lakes had a lone mansion on its shores? If she’d been living in Tassamara during the housing boom, she was sure she’d know—every stage of construction would have been monitored in the local conversation. But she’d been away for medical school and her residency and since she’d returned, she spent more time in her quiet lab than she did in town. She didn’t remember hearing anything about any abandoned McMansions.

  They rounded a corner and Travis paused at a door in the wall. He shoved it open and waved them through, before pulling it closed behind them, lifting it up slightly as if it hung partially off its hinges. On the other side of the door, Natalya paused, Kenzi’s hand tight in hers. They were on a patio. She could see from the reflected light of the moon that a swimming pool lay in front of them, but the water was dark and murky.

  “This way,” Travis said, brushing past them and heading to the left.

  Natalya felt a shiver run down her spine. She’d been distracted by the ache of exertion, the chill of the air and the discomfort of her wet feet, but her sense of foreboding was back. She felt spooked by the house, reluctant to go inside.

  Gritting her teeth, she followed Travis. Mitchell chatted happily to Kenzi but she tuned out the flow of his words as she tried to push her foresight into action. What was going to happen? But it was like a dream, a half-forgotten mélange of images and sensations: boys yelling; a blur of doorways and tiled floor; Kenzi glaring fiercely, an expression Natalya had never seen her wear.

  Natalya took a deep, gulping breath, feeling shaky. Leaves on water, she told herself. You can’t stop the future, you can only prepare for it. The reminder helped. She let the thoughts drift away, focusing on the present.

  Bits of broken glass crunched underfoot.

  “I see you were busy here, too, Mitchell,” Natalya said, voice dry, as she stepped more carefully. In the dim light, she couldn’t tell which window was broken.

  Travis snorted. As he stepped through an empty doorframe, Natalya realized they were walking on pieces of a glass door.

  “Not me,” Mitchell said. “It was too hard. But it broke a lot better. No big pieces sticking out, waiting to cut ya.” He sounded aggrieved, as if Natalya’s window had attacked him instead of the other way around.

  Natalya’s lips twitched in a half-smile as she followed Travis through the door and into an echoing space. This must be the inside pool Mitchell had mentioned. It didn’t smell of chlorine, though, but of mold and dead things. Natalya swallowed hard.

  “Yeah, it stinks,” Travis agreed, although she hadn’t protested. He’d stopped moving and seemed to be kneeling, rummaging along the ground. “Ah,” he said, sounding satisfied, and clicked o
n a flashlight. For a moment, the light was too bright. Natalya squinted until Travis aimed the beam at the ground in front of them, creating a small circle of warmth in the darkness.

  “Isn’t this cool?” Mitchell sounded bouncy again. “There’s toads living in here, Mac. Lizards, too. Maybe even snakes.”

  Natalya felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising. Snakes? Just what she wanted to hear.

  “Shut up, Mitchell.” Travis sighed, moving away. “Mac’s a girl. Girls don’t like snakes.”

  “Don’t be sexist. Kenzi can like snakes if she wants to.” Natalya corrected him automatically, before almost stepping on his heels as she hurried after him to get away from the potential reptile residents of the pool. Kenzi might like snakes, but Natalya definitely didn’t.

  Inside the house, the darkness was even deeper. Natalya paused, wary of running into doors or furniture.

  “This way,” Travis said, leading them to a wide flight of stairs. Natalya couldn’t see much, but the floor under her feet felt smooth and polished. She hoped it was tile, but as Travis shone the light onto the steps, she could see they were made out of a beautiful hardwood. With an inward cringe at the thought of their wet and muddy shoes, she followed him upstairs, Kenzi and Mitchell close behind them.

  They climbed up the switchback stairway to the top floor and into a wide open space. Travis let the light flicker around the room, touching on a kitchen separated from the main room by a bar. The moonlight shining in through the wall of windows provided enough light for Natalya to see two people, one sitting on the floor by the windows, the other lying down next to him.

  “Come help Jamie, Mac,” Travis ordered, setting the flashlight down on the bar.

  “You found her,” exclaimed Mitchell, scrambling to his feet.

  Natalya blinked twice and then a third time, before glancing at the Mitchell who had come in behind her. Same dark hair, same brown skin, same skinny arms and big smile.