By the time she picked up Naomi and made it out to the scene, nearly an hour had passed. The sun felt good on her face, and she hoped the missing hunter was someplace where the sun could warm him. But the North Woods were so thick that in some places the sun never hit the ground.
The command center was still being set up when she arrived at Loon Falls, about two miles off Beaver Road. A truck was backing the familiar trailer into position in the snowy clearing. Kade saw Bree and Naomi and waved from the tree line. Bree parked, then she and Naomi let the dogs out and went to meet him.
His tired eyes blinked above dark circles that almost looked like bruises. Bree had a hunch that something more than the missing hunter had robbed him of sleep. Something in his eyes—pain?—made her want to fix whatever it was. Maybe she would have a chance to talk with him about it later. The realization that she was glad to see him unsettled her.
“What’ve we got?” she asked him.
“Bubba Martin, age twenty-three. His friends are still very unconcerned.” Kade shook his head. “If they’re the best he can do, he’s hurting.”
“I don’t know him,” Bree said. Even the name Martin didn’t sound familiar.
“He’s from down around Ironwood. His mother is on her way.”
“We have any articles of clothing?” Bree turned and stared into the woods. With that much time elapsed, the young man could be anywhere. It didn’t sound like his circle of friends was the type to have any real wilderness survival savvy. He probably didn’t even know enough to stay put and wait for the searchers.
Kade moved closer and held out a paper bag with something white inside. “He wore this T-shirt yesterday.”
“I’ll give the dogs the scent,” Naomi said, taking the bag. The dogs each thrust a nose into the bag then began to strain at their leashes.
Bree and Kade both turned and began to walk toward the woods. Bree knew she needed to keep things on a professional level with Kade, but being near him was like standing on the lighthouse tower during a storm—scary and exhilarating at the same time. She hadn’t reacted to any man like this since Rob. The feelings were unfamiliar and terrifying.
She wanted to step closer, to nestle her head against his shoulder, to turn her cares and worries over to someone bigger and stronger than herself. It was a feeling she needed to guard against. No one could solve her problems.
“How’s Zorro?” she asked. Better to keep things distant.
He sighed. “Chewing everything. And Lauri’s no help. She’s gone more than she’s home.”
She glanced at him. “I could come over for another lesson.” As soon as the words were past her lips, she wanted to snatch them back. The last thing she needed was to be around him more. He likely felt nothing for her but friendship anyway. But all the rationalizing in the world didn’t change her longing to get to know him better.
“That would be great! When can you come?”
His eagerness heartened her. “Maybe this evening, if it’s not too late by the time we find our missing hunter.” She was committed now. His gaze caught and held hers. The awareness in his eyes dried her mouth, and she finally looked away.
They reached the edge of the woods. “Want me to let the dogs go?” Naomi had a leash around each wrist, and the dogs practically dragged her forward in their eagerness.
Bree grabbed Samson’s leash. She took his head between her hands. “You ready, boy?” The dog panted with excitement and whined. She unclipped his leash and let him go. “Search, Samson. Go find him.”
The dog raced off into the woods with Charley close on his tail. Naomi, Bree, and Kade ran after them. A sense of déjà vu came over Bree. Their search for the O’Reilly children seemed eons ago. So much had happened in the two weeks since.
Funny how life could twist on you like an unfamiliar road until you weren’t sure which way you were pointed anymore. That was just how Bree felt. She’d started out to find Rob and Davy, yet how long had it been since she’d really searched for them? Little by little, life was beginning to creep back in. She didn’t know if she was happy or sad. Maybe she’d turned a corner.
The dogs were on a hot trail. Their posture told Bree the hunter couldn’t be far.
Sure enough, thirty minutes later the dogs began to bark, then Samson came bounding to her with a stick in his mouth.
“Show me, Samson,” Bree commanded. The dog led her over fallen trees dusted with white snow then around a stand of pine to a small clearing. A young man huddled against the side of a jack pine.
“Bubba Martin?” she asked.
He blinked slowly, and she realized he was suffering from hypothermia. She opened her ready-pack and pulled out a blanket. “Pour him some hot coffee from the thermos,” she called over her shoulder to Kade and Naomi. Naomi moved first.
Bubba shivered. “So cold,” he whispered.
“We’ll get you warmed up,” she promised. Naomi handed the coffee to Bree, and she lifted it to Bubba’s lips. A sense of accomplishment washed over her in a warm tide. Another successful search. But her euphoria quickly collapsed. What did it all matter if the most important search of her life ended in failure?
When they got back to the command center, Bubba’s mother was there, a bleached blond in her early forties with angry brown eyes. She rushed to her son and began to harangue him in a voice that caught Bree’s attention. Frowning, she stood and listened. She’d heard that voice before.
Then it came to her. Lanna March.
Bree approached the pair. Bubba’s head was down as his mother berated him.
“Yes?” she snapped when she realized Bree was staring at her.
“I think the paramedics need to check Bubba. He’s suffering from exposure and hypothermia.”
“Who are you?” the woman growled. Her scowl deepened.
Bree called herself a fool for thinking Rob would have anything to do with a woman like this. “I’m Bree Nicholls.”
The woman’s face sagged, and she backed away. Her gaze darted away from Bree’s. “Fine, you take him to the ambulance. I’ll meet him at the hospital.”
“Wait, you never told me your name,” Bree called.
The woman ran to her car, a mid-eighties Ford with rust eating the wheel wells. She slammed the car door and sped away.
Bree had always possessed a knack for voice recognition, and she was sure that woman was the one who had called her, the one who wanted her to let Rob go. But why would she be afraid of Bree? Shaking with the revelation, she stumbled back to the trailer and filled out the necessary paperwork, then she and Naomi drove to the deer camp where Eric Matthews was supposed to be holed up.
Big Piney Creek was only five miles away. After Bree parked the Jeep, they got out with the dogs and began to walk back to where Mason said the deer camp was located.
Naomi was uncharacteristically quiet. She kept stealing glances at Bree, and it was making Bree uncomfortable. “Spit it out, girlfriend. What’s on your mind?”
Naomi bit her lip. “You really like Kade, don’t you?” she said finally.
Bree gulped, and heat rushed to her cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me. Weren’t you just yelling at me about not telling you everything?” Naomi said in a teasing tone.
“I just recognized it myself,” Bree said. “I didn’t realize it until he walked toward me this morning. Isn’t that stupid? It’s like there’s this connection between us. I can’t explain it.”
“I know just what you mean. Like you can almost tell what he’s thinking by looking at him.”
Bree nodded. “I don’t know where it will lead, if anywhere. I’m not sure I want it to lead anywhere. My life is such a mess, and I don’t want to involve Kade in the fallout.”
“Kade’s a Christian, you know,” Naomi said softly.
The comment came like a slap of cold water in Bree’s face. A real wake-up call. It was something she didn’t want to deal with. All the more reason to keep him at a distance.
&nb
sp; “Rob was a Christian, but—” She broke off.
“But what? So he let you down or hurt you in some way. Are you sure you’re not just angry with him for dying, for leaving you here?”
“I wish it were that simple.” She’d held her guilt so close for the past year, she didn’t know if she could reveal it even to Naomi. But the more she had tried to hide it, the more fearful she’d become of opening herself up to the future.
“Then what is it? I’ve seen you change this year, Bree. You never used to have all this insecurity. Tell me.”
“Rob was having an affair!” Bree waited for Naomi’s reaction.
Naomi put her hands to her face then lowered them and stared at Bree. “Not Rob. Are you sure?” She brushed the snow from a log then lowered herself onto it. “Sit down. I have to chew on this a minute.”
Bree sat beside Naomi and laced her fingers together in her lap. The snow muffled the sounds of the forest, and she listened to the silence. “A woman called the day his plane went down. She said they were in love and if I wanted him to be happy, I’d let him go.”
“Did she identify herself?”
Bree nodded. “Lanna March. Her number was unlisted. I called Rob on his cell phone. He denied it, but his anger was so out of proportion, I knew it was true. That was just minutes before he got in the plane to fly home. Don’t you see, Naomi? I killed him and Davy! If I had waited, discussed it calmly when he got home, my family would still be alive.”
“So that’s why you’re afraid to speak your mind anymore,” Naomi said.
“What if I hurt someone like that again and never have the chance to make it right? I wanted him to feel the same hurt I did. Rob was a good pilot. I wrecked his concentration.”
“You can’t know that, Bree. There could have been something wrong with the plane, a wind shear; any number of things could have caused the crash. It wasn’t you though, and you can’t change who you are because of some misplaced sense of guilt.”
“That woman at the search, Bubba’s mother. Her voice reminded me of Lanna’s. For a minute I thought—” Bree broke off in thought, then she set her jaw. She knew she was right. She never forgot a voice. “In fact, I’m just sure it was her voice. But she’s much older than Rob.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Oh, nothing makes any sense.”
“If you’re sure she’s the one who called you, we should check her out,” Naomi said thoughtfully.
Bree didn’t want to think about Lanna anymore. She glanced at Naomi. “What do you think of Rob’s Christianity now?” Bree asked.
“I’m disappointed in him, but he was human, Bree. Being a Christian doesn’t change the human nature we all still deal with. God doesn’t recognize degrees of sin. Rob’s sin was no worse than telling a little white lie or gossiping or losing your temper. God forgives it all. His love is unconditional.”
Unconditional love. Bree had never thought of it that way before. Her heart longed for that kind of acceptance. Anu accepted her in that way, but Bree worried how her mother-in-law would react if she knew Bree’s heart fully. For the first time, she understood the appeal of accepting God’s love. The God of Bree’s experience was a mischievous cat who played with his creation like a ball of twine until it was a hopeless mess. But God hadn’t stepped in to save her family—didn’t that prove his disinterest? She wished she could believe in this unconditional love idea.
The women let the dogs roam a bit before starting off for the creek. Bree rehearsed what she would say to Eric. Tramping through the woods, they made plenty of noise to alert any hunters to their presence. Their bright orange gear should show through the foliage, but just to be sure, they sang for a while then talked loudly and shouted to the dogs.
Bree hated deer season. Michigan had allowed a short extra gun season this year, and as she and Naomi walked through the pristine winter wonderland, Bree saw the evidence of the hunts: Hunters’ tree stands, spent shells, broken arrows, and patches of blood littered the white snow. Though she understood the need to keep the deer population under control, she hated the violence of the method.
It was nearly three o’clock by the time they arrived at the camp. Bree stepped over a line of beer cans that encircled the site like an aluminum fortress. Four men lay snoring on top of their sleeping bags while a fifth lay on the hood of a battered green Ford pickup. The fire in the center of the camp had gone out, but the men were either too drunk or too tired to care.
Bree glanced at each face. She recognized a few, but she didn’t see Eric.
“There are eight sleeping bags,” Naomi pointed out. “Three men are gone. Let’s look around. We’ll find them quicker if we split up. You check the creek, and I’ll wander through the woods a bit.”
“Don’t forget to make noise,” Bree warned her.
Naomi nodded and took Charley with her. Bree whistled for Samson, and they went down a rocky path to the creek bed. The snow had made the slick rocks treacherous. Standing on a boulder, Bree glanced across the Big Piney. Only a trickle of water passed over the rocky surface of the creek.
Singing “Jailhouse Rock” at the top of her lungs, Bree wandered along the edge of the creek for several minutes then turned to go back. Samson pricked his ears and whined. “What is it, boy?” She paused and listened. The faint echo of voices reached her ears.
She pushed through a thicket of brush and found three men sitting along the bank of the creek. They stopped talking when they saw her. The Larson brothers and Eric Matthews.
Blue eyes as cold as a glacier looked her over. “You’re that dog woman,” he said. “Fay’s friend. I suppose the cops got you following me too? What’d I tell you, Mitch? That idiot husband of Fay’s has turned the whole town against me.”
“You seem to have done that on your own,” Bree said. A low growl escaped Samson’s throat, so she kept a hand on his head.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I had nothing to do with Fay’s death,” Eric said.
“I didn’t say you did.” She moved closer and stared into his face. There was a coiled tension in him that made her wary.
“No, but you and everyone else looks at me like they think I’m the Boston strangler.”
“Calm down, Eric.” Mitchell Larson, a heavyset man of about forty, leaned over and handed Eric a beer. “Let’s see what the lady wants.”
Eric took the beer and popped the top. Taking a big swig, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Okay, dog lady, what do you want? It can’t be an accident you’re here.”
Bree had to tread warily with Eric’s temper already on edge. “No, I was looking for you. I hear you’re out in the woods a lot, and you spent some time with Fay. I’m looking for a cabin Fay said she came across. A woman lives there. She wears an old leather fedora. Have you seen a place like that?”
Eric frowned. “What makes you think I’d tell you, even if I did, eh?”
“What harm could there be in telling the truth?”
“You want the truth? How about this—I didn’t kill Fay. Why isn’t the sheriff checking out her husband? He’s the one with something to gain. The fine, upstanding bank manager needed the insurance to avoid bankruptcy.”
Bree had seen the letter at the house threatening legal action if Steve didn’t pay a bill of two hundred fifty thousand dollars. How much more did Steve owe? “How do you know this?”
“Fay told me.”
“You went to jail for hurting her.”
His face darkened, and he got up. Bree took an involuntary step back, and Samson lunged at Eric. She grabbed his collar when Eric pointed a gun at the dog’s head.
“Get out of here, you and that mangy mutt of yours. I loved Fay. This town is bent on making sure I never forget what I did. That was a long time ago, and I was young. I loved Fay.” His face contorted. “She forgave me, even if no one else did.”
Against her will, Bree found herself believing him. “She was a married woman with a baby on the way.”
“That marriage was a mistake, and she kn
ew it.” He waved his gun in the air. “Steve doesn’t want to believe it, but that was my baby.”
“How do you know?”
Misery filled his face. “I just know. She would have gone away with me.”
“Even if you had to force her?” Bree knew she was skating near the edge of his temper, but she had to goad him once more.
He pointed the gun at her head. Samson snarled and struggled to free himself from Bree’s grip. “I should shoot you now, you and that dog,” Eric snarled. “You do-gooders are all alike. You think you know what’s best for the world, and the rest of us just need to shut up and follow your rules. No rules would have kept Fay and me apart. She knew it, and I knew it.” He gestured with the gun. “Now get out of here before I live up to everyone’s expectations.”
Bree knew she’d reached his limit, so she turned to go. Samson didn’t want to leave. He kept growling and lunging toward Eric.
“Hey, Eric, that dog would make good target practice. We could say we thought he was a deer.” Marvin Larson jeered and threw a rock.
It hit Samson on the rear, and the dog whirled with a snarl. It was all Bree could do to hang on. Tugging at his collar, she managed to drag him away. It wasn’t until she found Naomi and made it back to the Jeep that she realized she was shaking. That could have gotten ugly. She should have had a man with her. Someone strong like Kade.
She told Naomi about the encounter as they drove back to town.
“Do you believe him?” Naomi asked.
“I didn’t want to,” Bree admitted. “But I think he might be telling the truth. I saw some papers at Steve’s house that indicated he was in financial trouble. I have to tell Mason.”
No clear plan came to either of them. They stopped at Mason’s office and told him what Bree had found and what Eric had said. He growled at her for not waiting for him then promised to look into it. After letting Naomi out at the Blue Bonnet, Bree turned back up Houghton Street and drove out toward Kade’s cabin. Her palms felt sweaty where they gripped the steering wheel. Telling herself she was a mature woman of twenty-nine instead of a giddy teenager on her first date did not help them dry out.
Rock Harbor Series - 01 - Without a Trace Page 21