The Forgotten

by Linda S. Prather

  “What took you so long?”

  The whine. God, I hate her whiny voice. He turned and smiled. “The ground was frozen, Mother.”

  “She was weak, Robert. Weak and sickly. Any child born of her would have been weak and sickly too.”

  “You did the right thing, Mother. Besides, I think it’s time for us to go back to the city for a while, and we couldn’t take her with us. I’ll work a few months, and we’ll find a new place.”

  Mother nodded and rubbed the side of her head. “Did you find her? She hurt me, Robert.”

  He crossed the room, placed her head against his chest, and gently stroked her hair, careful to avoid the thin spots. The years had not been kind to her, and her beauty had faded long ago. He’d removed the mirrors from their homes so she couldn’t see the deep wrinkles covering her forehead or the sagging skin beneath her chin. “I didn’t find her, but she won’t hurt anyone else. She’s dead, Mother. Her frozen body is lying somewhere with the buzzards plucking at her flesh.”

  She cackled. “I bet she suffered. She suffered, didn’t she, Robert? I wanted her to suffer.”

  Suffering doesn’t always mean dead. The dog had suffered too, but it was still breathing, still snarling and growling. What if the girl lived?

  “Robert, did she suffer?”

  He hugged her and turned her face to his, looking into her emerald-green eyes, the only true beauty she still possessed. “Yes, Mother, she suffered. She suffered greatly.”

  She hugged him, her lips lifting in a radiant smile. “Good. I’ll go pack my things. Maybe we could go to California this time. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  Robert cringed. All those beaches and young girls walking around half nude. I’ll never be able to watch her all the time or dig enough graves to bury the ones she chose to be forgotten. “We’ll see, Mother. There are some things I need to take care of before we go too far.”

  It took less than an hour to clear their personal belongings from the cabin. Robert doused it with kerosene and set a trip wire with grenades on both doors. If the girl came back, or the Indian decided to snoop, this would take care of part of his problem.

  He stood by the car, admiring the cabin. He’d built it one log at a time. Damn the girl for making him destroy it. The clouds overhead thickened, and darkness came toward him in the form of two dark eyes ripping and tearing at his inner being. Robert reached for the top of the car and steadied himself. What the hell was that? His mouth went dry, and his hands shook uncontrollably as a trickle of urine soiled his pants. The Indian. She isn’t afraid of me. Sickened, perhaps, and even repulsed, but not afraid. I thought the power belonged to the dogs, but she has it too.

  Robert listened to Mother humming in the passenger seat. He needed that power. I’ll make her my first kill. Stare into her eyes, cut out her heart, and make her power my own. He slid in behind the steering wheel and buckled his seat belt. There was a gas station three miles down the road, and he could change there. “Ready, Mother?”

  She smiled at him, a dazzling smile that made him realize he was powerless to stop her. He couldn’t protect her unless he could control her need to kill.

  Make the dog go away, Robert.

  A feeling of helplessness washed over him, and his hands tightened on the wheel. “I dreamed about the little girl and the dog again, Mother. What does it mean?”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I told you what it means. Kill the dog and take your pills.”

  Robert started the car. He’d killed hundreds of dogs, but it wasn’t helping. None of them knew how the dream ended. And the pills only made his mind foggy, making it easier for Mother to elude him until it was too late to stop her. I’ll take the Indian’s power. Then I can control Mother, and the dreams will stop.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Anything yet?” Special Agent Brian Wilkes sat on the edge of the desk and peered at the three computer screens in front of Rosetta Tosallina. “I still don’t know how you can watch three computer screens at the same time.”

  “Talent, darling. Sheer talent.” Rosetta gave him a brief smile before clicking on keys and bringing up another screen. “And no, I haven’t found any reports of a dark-haired woman being killed on a creek bank.” She swiveled her chair toward him. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask Catherine if she can try to see something?”

  Brian stood and paced in front of her desk. “No, the doctor ordered complete bed rest until the baby’s born.”

  Rosetta tilted her head to the side and grinned at him. “Sure you’re not looking for a new case so you don’t have to stay here and help me with the wedding plans?”

  He chuckled. “Would that work?”

  “Hell, no.” Rosetta swiveled her chair toward the computer as it pinged. “False alarm. Black-haired woman shot near a river.”

  “I’m pretty sure my girl is an Indian.” Brian peered at the screen. “And significantly younger than that one.”

  “Speaking of your girl, how’s the new partner working out?”

  “You mean the director’s bloodhound?” Brian pushed a stray hair behind her ear and lightly touched her cheek. “Not a note of jealousy I hear, is it?”

  Rosetta rolled her eyes and sighed. “Why would I be jealous of a blond, sexy, beautiful, armed and dangerous woman on a mission to destroy the man I love?”

  “I think that’s only part of her mission. She keeps wanting to talk to Catherine, and I keep putting her off.”

  “That’s weird. Did she say why?”

  Brian shook his head. “I heard her and Karen Vanderputt talking one day, and I think it has something to do with her son. They both clammed up when they saw me.”

  Rosetta whirled around, her eyes twinkling. “You should show the drawing to Karen. She does some kind of psychic sketching. I bet she could pick up on something.”

  “Way ahead of you, honey. She said she didn’t get anything.”

  “But you don’t believe her, do you?”

  Brian shrugged and walked toward the door. “Karen’s a good person. Whatever she found, she’ll tell me when she thinks the time is right.”

  “Do you want me to keep looking?”

  There were a thousand other things Rosetta could be spending time on, but for some reason, this one felt more important. A sliver of ice made its way down his spine, and he shivered. Whatever the drawing was trying to tell him, it was about more than the death of an Indian woman. Something far more sinister. “Yeah, keep looking.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jake took in the scene in the living room, feeling as though he’d been gut punched. Loki sat on the sofa, singing a Choctaw lullaby as she fed and rocked the baby. She’d never looked more beautiful, her long black hair pushed back from her face, her voice an aching melody that cut through him like a knife. She was a natural with the child. What the hell am I doing here? She deserves to be rocking her own child and loving a man who could love her in return. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee and clean my rifle.”

  Loki smiled at him before turning her attention to the baby. “I fed Grace a peanut butter sandwich, and she wanted to take a nap. As soon as I’ve finished feeding Hope, I’ll come in and start dinner.”

  His thoughts refused to shut off as he took the rifle apart and rubbed at it viciously. Harry Redmond was more than a former partner. He was also his best friend. I promised Harry I wouldn’t hurt her. The longer I stay, the more it’s going to hurt her when I finally leave.

  “Bruiser’s playing guard dog and refuses to move from the bedside where Grace and the baby are fast asleep. Dadron and Jules should be here any minute. I called them to pick up some diapers and formula for the baby. I didn’t think it was a good idea for either of us to go into town buying baby supplies, and Dr. Coomer should also be here soon.”

  Jake continued to clean and oil his rifle, so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard her come in. “Un-huh.”

  “Damn it, Jake, talk to me.”

  “What do you want me t
o say, Loki?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe something like let’s talk about our strategy on how to find this guy, or what we’re going to tell the police about why we didn’t call them to start with.” Loki flopped into a chair. “Or maybe something as simple as, ‘Would you like a cup of coffee, Loki?’”

  Jake dropped the rifle and rose to pour a cup, turning his back to her. His emotions were still raw, and the sarcasm in her voice was like salt on the wounds. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Loki?”

  He heard the chair push away from the table and her boots on the hardwood floor as she stomped toward him. The hand she placed on his arm felt like a branding iron, searing him to his soul and opening up a myriad of emotions he wasn’t ready to handle yet and wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to handle. Jake yanked his arm away and plopped the cup on the counter.

  “I can’t give you what you want, Loki. Coming here was a mistake.”

  He felt like a jackass as he watched her hands clench and unclench, her eyes blinking furiously.

  “Mistake, Jake?” She stomped toward the back door. “I brought you here to help you pull yourself together, not because of any feelings I might or might not have for you. And I haven’t asked you for anything.”

  “Loki…”

  She ignored him and continued. “What I want is for you to pull your head out of your ass and come up with a plan for us to find this guy so we can protect those two kids. After that you can go wherever the hell you want to go.” She stopped, her hand on the knob. “And you can fix your own damn supper. I’m not your maid or your cook.”

  Jake shuddered as the door slammed behind her. He rubbed a spot on his chest, a scar from one of the deeper knife cuts. Whoever said words cut deeper than any blade was one smart son of a bitch. He’d rather suffer a thousand knife cuts than hear the pain in her voice again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Loki trudged through the snow, making her way to the barn as she held back the tears threatening to consume her. I should have listened to Harry. I never expected Jake to fall in love with me, but this constant closing me out of his thoughts and feelings is ripping me apart. How can we be partners if we can’t even talk to each other?

  “Mistake,” Loki grumbled and kicked at a pebble on the drive. She’d brought him here to heal—away from Texas and the memories of the bomber and Cara. And Jake isn’t the only one who needs to heal. Loki still had nightmares of watching Harry almost bleed to death, and the bullet wounds in her back still ached at times. The bomber had come very close to destroying everything and everyone she loved. Jake would never forget Cara, or the horror of watching her die, and Loki didn’t want him to. She didn’t want to be his life. She only wanted to be a part of it.

  The sound of a car crunching down on gravel interrupted her thoughts, and she turned as Dadron and Jules parked in front of the house. Dr. Coomer was only a short distance behind them. Loki pasted a smile on her face and headed toward the driveway. Grace and Hope have to be my first priority. When they’re safe, I’ll deal with Jake Savior.

  A thin gray-haired woman climbed out of her car, and Loki smiled at her. She’d forgotten how old Dr. Coomer was. Almost as old as Grandpa. Loki had often wondered if perhaps Dr. Coomer had had a little more than a patient’s interest in her grandfather.

  “Loki Redmond, I haven’t seen you in years.” She glanced at the two young men pulling luggage from the car in front of her. “And don’t tell me this is Dadron and little Jules?”

  Loki held out her hand, surprised by the strength in the slim fingers. “Jules isn’t quite so little anymore. Thank you for coming.”

  “Always available for your family. So where’s my patient?”

  Loki motioned for Dadron and Jules to join them. “You two should hear this too.” She quickly filled them in on Jake’s finding Grace and the baby, the visit from the alleged police officer, their suspicions, and what Grace had told her about the body at the creek. “Grace is thin, but overall they both appear to be healthy. I want you to make sure they’re okay physically.”

  Dr. Coomer frowned. “Where are the police? Surely hearing that story, they would be here by now.”

  “We haven’t called them yet. If we do, word will spread quickly the girl is still alive, and we think he’ll run. Grace has given us a pretty good idea where she was being held. We’d like a chance to see if we can catch him first. If not, we’ll call the police as soon as we get back.”

  Dr. Coomer shook her head. “I don’t like it, Loki.”

  “It’s like you said, Mary, you haven’t seen me in years. This is what Dadron, Jules, and I do for a living, and Jake is a former police officer.”

  Jake came out of the house and headed for the barn. “Give us a couple of hours. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Dr. Coomer turned toward the front door. “Let me take a look at them, and we’ll see.”

  “They’re in the bedroom. I’ll show you.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the doctor joined Loki in the living room. “The baby is fine, but the girl is severely malnourished. I’m prescribing some vitamins as well as iron pills.” She held the prescription out to Loki. “I’ve written them in your name, and I’ll hold off on this for one day, Loki. And I’m only doing that because of what that poor girl has suffered. If you haven’t called the police by then, I will. I could lose my license for hiding something like this.”

  Loki took the prescriptions. “Thank you, Mary.”

  Dr. Coomer nodded to Dadron and Jules. “I hope you boys can talk some sense into her.”

  Dadron grinned. “We’ll try, but she’s awfully hardheaded sometimes.”

  Loki glared at him, anxious to see the doctor on her way so she could get to the barn before Jake decided to leave without her.

  Dr. Coomer sighed, her eyes filled with concern, and her lips pressed together in disapproval. “I’ll stop by tomorrow after work.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Poor Grace. Those two are worse than the police. Loki banged the dishes as she cleared the table while listening to Jake and Dadron question Grace and discuss the plan for the evening. Grace sat quietly, her head bowed.

  “Whoa.” Dadron shook his head. “If you’re talking about Devil’s Creek, it’s at least three miles, and the only way to get there from here is through the forest. It’s going to be pitch black in there in the next hour or so. Even at a trot, if the horses could trot, you’re looking at about a mile every thirty to forty-five minutes. Maybe longer. And you’d be lucky if one of them didn’t step in a hole and break a leg.”

  Loki studied Jake’s face, trying to read his thoughts and judge his emotions. Some of her earlier anger was gone, but the hurt was still there. She knew he was anxious to go, but what Dadron said made perfect sense, and she wasn’t willing to risk the horses unless she had to. “Dadron’s right, Jake. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to that part of the farm, and we’re not sure how far down the creek we’d have to go to find this house. We’d be better off waiting until morning when we can see where we’re going and what’s in front of us.”

  “Grace, how did you get in and out?” Jake asked.

  “We drove, but I don’t know where the road is because they always had me in the trunk until we got to the house.”

  “What about outside the building? Didn’t you ever go outside?”

  Grace stared at her feet. “I wasn’t allowed outside, but I could see the creek from my window. There’s a little bridge that crosses it.”

  “Do you know the place, Dadron?” Loki asked.

  “Maybe. I was only there once with Grandpa. Loggers were working on Mr. Tatum’s trees, and Grandpa wanted to make sure they didn’t cross the creek. That’s been almost fifteen years ago, Loki. There wasn’t a house there then.”

  “Sounds like the house isn’t on your property,” Jake said. “What about this Tatum guy? Any chance we could go in from his property an easier way?”

  Loki shook her head. “Mr. Tatum died twenty years ago
. Grandpa was looking at buying his property, but it got tied up somehow in probate court because they couldn’t find his wife. I think he had a daughter or a son, but they don’t live here, and the last time I heard, the old farmhouse burned down, so nobody lives there. I wouldn’t know where to start looking for a road. And even if we found it, he’d hear us coming.”

  Jake ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “All right. We’ll get some sleep and start out first thing in the morning.”

  Loki dried her hands and tossed the dish towel on the counter. Grace had been reluctant to share details of the place she’d been held, and Loki wanted to know why. “Come on, Grace. I’ll help you get settled in for the night.”

  Grace was silent on the way to the room, her thank-you to Jules a mere whisper as she took the sleeping baby from his arms. Loki flipped on the bedroom light and closed the door behind them. “I didn’t find any pajamas, but there’s some long T-shirts and sweats in the top drawer. You can sleep in those until we get a chance to go shopping.”

  “I wish I were more like you.” Grace placed the baby on the bed, covered her with the blanket, and sat on the edge. “I’m not strong enough.”

  “You’ve been strong, Grace. In fact, considering what you’ve been through, Jake and I both wondered why you weren’t showing more emotion. It makes us feel like you’re hiding something or maybe not telling us the whole story.”

  Grace moved to the window, staring out into the darkness. “At first, I was waiting to see if you were real.”