by Emery Hayes
Follow her. Her life was probably in danger. And she was a material witness if not more. Nicole had received a call from forensics late the night before. They had tested her hands and clothing for gunshot residue, all of which had come back negative. Adelai hadn’t even been in the room when the gun was fired, killing James Franks. Residue sprayed, and in a room that small, a spattering would have landed somewhere on her clothes, skin, hair. Adelai was not a person of interest in the death of the GSW in her upstairs bedroom, the baby’s uncle. But she was a person of interest because evidence placed her on that party boat at some point.
“Where is she now?” Nicole asked.
“She wanted nothing to do with me,” the deputy continued. “She said she didn’t need protection and didn’t want me following her. She was closing the door on this part of her life and starting new. She wanted that for her son.”
“Where did she go?” Nicole tried again.
“I persisted,” he said. “I know how to take an order,” he assured her, “but that visitor, she’s got to be an attorney.”
“So Adelai left with the visitor?”
He nodded. “I heard the nurse call the woman Mrs. Embry. She was tall and sturdy. Older, with silver hair.” He shrugged somewhat helplessly. “She looked like a grandma, but she let me have it when I followed them down the hall.”
“What did she say?”
“ ‘Step back, young man. You won’t be getting into this elevator.’ ”
Sounded about right.
“Then she told me following Ms. Amari after they had asked me not to was a matter they would take up in the courts.” His skin flushed from collarbone to hairline. “She accused me of stalking and promised she’d reduce me to department store security.”
Nicole took pity on the deputy. He was, after all, a young man, fairly new with the department, and had followed protocol.
She smiled and said, “I’ve had a run-in with Mrs. Embry myself. I think she spent the long months of winter sharpening her claws.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Exactly.” And Nicole watched as his breathing returned to normal, his skin tone too.
“There will be more like her,” she said.
“I know it. And I stuck to my training—calm and cool and persistent.”
And the rest would come with experience.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began working it. “I took a picture anyway. I didn’t know you knew Embry or how hard it would be to find her.” He offered Nicole his phone. The picture showed the back of a blue Camry, license plate number clearly visible. “That’s what they drove away in.”
“Good work,” she said, and forwarded the photo to her cell number.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Why don’t you come with me,” she invited. “I’m going to pay them a visit, and you can ride shotgun.” It was an impulsive decision but one that felt right. An opportunity to educate by example. “Let me do the talking,” she advised. “You observe—facial expressions, gestures, surroundings—and we’ll talk after.”
They climbed into Nicole’s Yukon and quickly returned to the Lake Road, lights rolling but siren silent. Lois Embry. She certainly possessed an overbearing confidence and the softness of a porcupine. Honestly, Nicole would want the woman in her corner if she ever needed an attorney. As she drove, she decided on her approach, which would be to speak directly to Adelai, with whom Nicole had at least a small rapport, and to take the bull by the horns if necessary.
As far as Nicole was concerned, there were two possible destinations. The first, the Embry household, which offered a safe but stifling hospitality. Adelai had told Nicole she hadn’t felt comfortable there. So Nicole tossed that in favor of the house overlooking the lake, where they had recovered the body of James Franks.
* * *
There was yellow tape tied to the porch railings and over the front door. A screen was out and leaning against the siding. That’s where they’d come in, Adelai decided. When she was upstairs, pacing the small rooms. Their bedroom, the nursery, and back again. She’d known the moment was at hand—she’d lived like that for days, poised for flight. And before that, for months, with the possibility. Because Matthew had warned her.
“You don’t have to stay here,” Lois said. She’d finished her call and come from the car to stand beside Adelai.
“I’m not staying,” she said. “Not for long.”
“They could come back,” Lois said. “The police are right about that, and I don’t feel good leaving you here.”
“I’m packing our things.”
What she needed. She had money, for careful purchases. She and Matthew had done well saving for what was supposed to be their future. When she’d run, she’d done it with a small envelope containing two documents—her Montana driver’s license and the ATM card—and her cell phone that had been deafeningly quiet in the hours since her baby was born. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, she thought. No one had celebrated her son. Well, except the sheriff. She had come to the hospital with bags loaded with clothes and toiletries. She had showered Adelai and her son with gifts. She had cared about them and been more than decent to them.
Even Lois hadn’t done that. Adelai was part of a mission. A piece Lois would move around on a game board as she tried to thwart immigration laws. Of course, some of that was no longer necessary. Adelai had given birth and she had more potential than most to gain citizenship. Lois might be able to help her with that.
“I’ll stay a day.” Or maybe two. How long did it take to make plans that completely changed your life? She would need a job again, but that was nothing new. She would leave Montana, but where would she go?
“So I should pick you up tomorrow? And what? Drive you to a bus station?”
“I’ll call you,” she promised.
“This isn’t safe,” Lois said again.
But Adelai disagreed. The police had been here. They were probably keeping an eye on the place. The men who had come were smart. They were trained. They would wait until the margin for error was so small a dime turned sideways couldn’t squeak through before they made their next move.
“The sheriff said I can get citizenship now,” Adelai said. “Because I gave birth, my chances are good.”
“Good but not guaranteed,” Lois said.
“Will you make it happen?”
“I’m not a miracle worker.” Lois breathed heavily, stirring the tendrils of hair that had escaped Adelai’s ponytail. Adelai understood her frustration—she was not playing the game right. She was no longer a high-stakes player. She was, in fact, the ace up the sleeve. And Lois Embry liked an underdog.
“But you’ll try?”
“I will,” she agreed, though it took a moment of careful consideration.
They heard the tread of tires and the pinging of gravel and together turned toward the sound. There was a curve in the road, and the trees that lined it were dense with spring foliage. It took a moment, but then she saw it. The bar light flashing and the hood of the sheriff’s SUV, and Adelai felt good about it.
Lois did not.
“Don’t say a word,” she ordered, raising her hands to her hips and growing tight in the shoulders.
* * *
Nicole smiled.
“You were right,” Deputy Sisk said. “I didn’t think she’d come back here.”
To the place where she’d nearly lost her life. Where a man had been executed in her bedroom. But her options were limited.
“She’s faced worse fears than this,” Nicole said. She cut the lights and the engine and climbed from the vehicle. “Come on.”
Nicole didn’t get two feet from the Yukon before Lois Embry pounced. She went straight for her deputy’s jugular.
“I told you if you followed us, we would consider it stalking,” she began. “Harassment at the very least—”
“We know the law at least as well as you, Counselor,” Nicole said. “This is police business, and I hope you
won’t be obstructing justice.”
A faint burst of color played on Embry’s cheeks, but it didn’t slow her down. “There’s a fine line between the two, isn’t there,” she challenged. “You can expect that I’ll be dancing on it.”
“Fair enough.” She turned her attention to Adelai. The young woman looked better, stronger, rested, and Nicole was glad for that. Her son was wrapped in a flannel blanket and snuggled against her chest. “You look good,” Nicole said.
Adelai smiled. “I am much better,” she assured her. “I needed sleep and got plenty of it in the hospital. It was the right move, for me and for my son.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be going over to Shelby tomorrow,” Nicole announced, and watched Adelai’s face. Liquid pooled in her eyes, and she blinked several times. “I need to tell his parents.”
“Yes, of course you do.”
“Whose parents?” Embry demanded. She placed a hand on Adelai’s shoulder as a warning to remain quiet as she addressed Nicole. But the young lady had a mind of her own.
“James Franks. Matthew’s brother,” Adelai said.
“The man executed inside this house,” Nicole further clarified. She looked up at the second floor, where a light burned in what Nicole remembered was one of two small bedrooms.
“Say not another word,” Embry advised. Not trusting Adelai to listen, she turned to Nicole and her deputy and announced, “Anything she does say will be tossed out in court. She is clearly under enormous distress, given the circumstances leading up to the delivery of her child, which took place while she was running for her life.”
“She was not involved in his murder. Her hands were swabbed and her clothing tested,” Nicole assured Embry, then turned to Adelai. “You weren’t even in the room when it happened, were you?”
Adelai shook her head.
“But you know more, or suspect more, than you told me this morning.”
“James came to warn me and they followed. That’s what I want to think, anyway, that James died a hero.”
“Did you speak to him, Adelai? Ask him about Matthew? You must have.”
“There wasn’t much time,” Adelai said. “They were so close behind him.”
“But you spoke.”
“Of course I asked him about Matthew. ‘Where is he?’ I said. I needed to know, was he really dead?”
“And what did James say?”
“He said, ‘He’s alive, Adelai. Or he was.’ ” Fear made her eyes flare as she reached back into that night for more details. “He hustled me up the stairs and told me to pack, quickly. He told me the last thing Matthew said was, ‘I love her.’ He meant me.” She smiled tremulously. “But James thought maybe Luke and Matthew were already dead, because the men knew where to find me and we kept that a secret. We were so careful.” She stopped and took a deep breath, pressed back tears. “By then they were already climbing through the window. We heard them take out the screen, their boots on the wood floor, their footsteps up the stairs. James helped me out the window, and that was the last I saw of him.”
“And he didn’t say anything else?”
“He said, ‘Run, Adelai. And don’t stop.’ ”
Nicole thought about all of this.
“He’s a hero. He saved me and my son.”
“You came back today because you believe Matthew is still alive.”
“I hope he is, and this is the only place he’ll know to find me.”
Nicole was impressed by the young woman’s strength. “Nearly three miles, in labor—I don’t know how you did it.”
“I knew my followers would not stop,” Adelai said. “And so I ran. Until the boats on the lake. I heard their motors, but at first I wasn’t sure. I was thinking, wouldn’t it be a miracle if a helicopter flew by, if they were on my side and help was at hand. But I realized it was the boats on the water and the sound of their engines that I heard. One had stopped and the other was pulling away from it.”
“And that’s all you saw?”
“The men must have seen too,” she said. “The woods have a feel to them. I knew the stillness meant the men were there, close. Too close. But when I stopped and looked over the water at the boats, I realized the night was alive with sound. With the hooting of an owl, the croaking of frogs. Before, it had been as quiet as the dead.”
“Who are the men?”
Adelai shook her head. “I promise you I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about James?”
“I answered your questions about him.”
“And no more.”
“I’d hoped he’d made it out too.” She paused to get hold of her quivering voice. “Until you showed me the picture.”
“Do you have reason to believe Matthew is alive?”
“I have hope, but only that.”
“Tell me more about the lake, about the boats,” Nicole said, putting a clamp on a welling sympathy she felt for the young woman. “You know about the missing agents.”
Adelai shook her head. She took a step backward, brushing against Lois Embry, who decided that was signal enough to jump back into the fray.
“That’s enough, Sheriff. Adelai has answered your questions. In fact, she’s been too generous with her cooperation.”
Nicole ignored the retired attorney. “I won’t stop asking you about it, Adelai,” Nicole said. “I can’t, because we’re still missing a man and we don’t know if he’s dead or alive. We can’t bring peace to his family or give him aid. We can’t leave a man fallen.”
The words, and Nicole’s sincere tone, moved Adelai. Her composure began to erode.
“I had help,” she said. “When I could run no more, when the baby was coming, it was a horrible pain and I called out.” She sobbed. “I tried not to.”
“And someone came to you?”
“Yes. I opened my eyes and he was standing over me. And I knew right away that we’d make it.”
“Why? How did you know?”
Adelai gathered the baby closer and over his head said, “I’d seen him before.”
“Adelai,” Lois Embry interrupted, her voice full of warning. “That’s enough. Let us speak first, you and I alone, before you talk to the sheriff about this.”
But Adelai shook her head. “I did nothing wrong,” she said.
“You withheld information,” Nicole said.
“Because he asked me to!” Adelai retorted. “He said it would save his life and I had to listen. He had stopped to help me, and I recognized him. I knew him to be good. I knew he would fight for us.”
Nicole brought out her cell phone and called up a photo. It was an agency picture of Kyle Monte. “Is this the man who helped you?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know he was good?” Nicole asked.
Adelai took a steadying breath. She turned her face so she could breathe in the scent of her baby. “I’ve been watching him for months.”
“You’ve been watching the lake?”
“Every night. At first, we were afraid of the men finding us. But I watched for more than that.” She paused to consider her words. “I left my family a long time ago. More than three years now. Do you know girls are sold for dowries in Syria? My father had these intentions. The money would help my family, and my father felt it was certainly worth the sacrifice. My mother was no help in this. I don’t miss them. But I have a brother and a younger sister. I have a favorite aunt. And sometimes, watching the lake, I see them, in the faces of the people seeking freedom. And that’s why I watch.”
“Your sister,” Embry interrupted. “We can go back for her.”
“My father is dead. In a moment of weakness, I called my aunt. It was heaven to hear her voice, and I was not sad when she reported that my father had passed. My mother and my sister have moved in with her, and my brother is away at college.”
Nicole recaptured Adelai’s attention. “What did you see on the lake?”
“Your agent is different from the others,”
Adelai said. “For weeks we watched and wondered at what we saw. But never with the man who helped me.”
“What did you wonder about?”
“The agents, sometimes once or twice a week, they had refugees in their boat, but they were not arresting them, they were setting them free. They cut across the lake, as far north as we could follow with the binoculars, and they gave them backpacks and showed them guns, and they spoke angry words—we could tell because their faces were twisted and fierce. And then they pushed them off the boat and onto the dock and the refugees ran, never looking back. That is what we saw, time and again.”
“Once or twice a week?”
“Sometimes. And sometimes long weeks without seeing them.”
“For how long?”
“We started watching in October.”
“How was Monte different?”
“His boat was always empty when he motored in from the south. If he found a refugee, he brought them aboard, gave them a blanket and an energy bar. But he always took them back the way he had come.”
“He arrested them.”
Adelai nodded. “But he did it without guns, without anger.”
“And he helped you.”
“He delivered my baby. And he promised not to arrest me.”
“If you promised not to tell about him.”
Adelai nodded.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know. He was not in good shape. He had bruising around his face and he favored his side. I asked him if he was all right, and he said, ‘For now.’ I didn’t ask any more questions.”
“He brought you by boat to the Embrys?”
“Yes. Not the usual boat, but something bigger with plenty of seating.”
The party barge.
Nicole turned her attention to Lois Embry. “Did you know about this?”
The woman pursed her lips but did not think long about it. “We knew only that she had arrived.”
Nicole turned back to Adelai. “What happened then?”
“He left,” Adelai said. “He did not even get out of the boat but set me on my feet, with my baby, and told me to walk up the path. That I would be safe.”
“And he asked you to not speak of seeing him?”