Next of Kin

by Sharon Sala

  Ryal slid a hand beneath the fall of her hair as he cupped the back of her neck.

  “No, honey…it’s not, but like a lot of things that have been said and done today, it’s too late to take it back. However, let’s see what we can do about the end results, okay? I have some antibiotic spray. I think it will be less painful than cream, because I won’t have to touch anything that’s reopened. We’ll do one hand at a time. Are you ready?” he asked, as he removed the old bandages.

  She nodded, then inhaled sharply as the spray hit the open wounds. He quickly sprayed the other hand, wincing with her as new pain shot up her arm, then put a gauze pad on each palm and taped them down.

  “It’s pretty sorry first aid, but it’ll keep the blood off your clothes. When we get to Grandpa’s house, I’ll do a better job, okay?”

  She nodded.

  As soon as he finished, he tossed the first-aid kit on the floor near her feet, then grabbed her seat belt and leaned in to fasten it.

  “There, better late than never.”

  Beth shivered. He was so close she could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. If he turned his head just a little bit and lifted his chin, all she would have to do was lean forward and they would kiss, but the moment she thought it, she wished the urge away. Being this close to him and not touching him was enough to make her crazy.

  “There now,” Ryal said, then picked up the letters and laid them back in her lap. “You okay?”

  “I will be.”

  A faint smile came and went as his gaze swept her face.

  “When did you get so tough?”

  She didn’t answer, but the question had apparently been rhetorical anyway, since Ryal was already on his way back around the truck. He gave her a quick glance as he got inside, then put it in gear and drove away. The deer that had caused the near-accident was long gone, but he drove with a closer eye on the road.

  A few minutes later he glanced over at Beth.

  “Doing okay?”

  She nodded. She had never been this far up Rebel Ridge and thought what it must have been like for Ryal’s mother to have grown up here.

  “This is a long way up.”

  “Yes, and it’s why we chose it to hide you. In fact, the road ends at Grandpa’s house. Anyone wanting to go farther up Rebel Ridge goes it on foot. It’s nearly one o’clock, but we’ll be there soon. You’re probably getting hungry. James and Quinn stocked the house with some basics, but I brought some precooked stuff from my house, too.”

  “There’s power and running water?”

  Ryal nodded. “Different members of the family have stayed here a few times since Grandpa died, usually during hunting season. No one wants to live this far out of the way, but we’re sentimental enough about the old place that we didn’t want to see it go to ruin.”

  Beth shivered. “I don’t care how far up it is. I’m ready to get lost.”

  “I can only imagine,” Ryal said.

  Minutes later he pointed. “The house is just beyond that dead pine. There’s a small clearing in front of it, but it’s surrounded in the back by trees, which should make it hard to see from the air.”

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t thought about it from that angle but was glad they had.

  “How are your hands?” he asked.

  She peered beneath the gauze. “They quit bleeding, but they’ll be sore again.”

  He frowned as he drove past the dead pine. What was done was done.

  “There it is,” he said, wondering how she would view the unpainted wood, the tilting porch roof and the simple furnishings.

  Beth leaned forward. “So this is the castle that’s going to protect me from the enemy. Nice, but where’s the moat?”

  Ryal hadn’t expected humor. He laughed.

  “Would you settle for a rusty knight and a rifle?”

  His laugh wound around her heart and made it ache, as did the smile on his face. There had been a time when laughter had been often and easy between them.

  She smiled back, then saw Ryal pointing at the house.

  “Looks like James and Quinn are still here. When you get inside, make sure they brought everything you’re going to need for at least the next couple of weeks, okay? If not, they can bring it next time they come up.”

  Beth was a little nervous about seeing Ryal’s brothers again. “Are they mad at me, too?” she asked.

  Ryal flinched. “No, Bethie…no. God. I’m not mad at you, either. I’m not throwing out blame to hurt your feelings, but the truth is, you and I became collateral damage in your mother’s affair.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Within moments Ryal pulled up and parked. Both his brothers came off the porch. James was smiling as he opened the passenger-side door.

  “Hey, Beth. Welcome back.” Then he saw the gauze pads on her hands. “Ryal didn’t tell us you were hurt.”

  “I’m healing,” she said. “Help me out, okay?”

  “I’ll do better than that,” James said, and scooped her up in his arms and lifted her down from the cab of the pickup, then set her on her feet. “How’s that?”

  Despite the fact that James was happily married and just being his usual self, a little jealousy hit Ryal and reared its ugly head. “Stop showing off,” he muttered. “You guys grab the bags and the box of food, okay?”

  “Beth, good to see you,” Quinn said quietly, then grabbed an armload of bags and walked away without commenting on James’s gallantry.

  Beth watched him walk away, then turned toward the old weather-beaten house.

  “What do you think?” Ryal asked, as he walked up behind her.

  Beth shrugged. “That I’m glad to be here and don’t care if it’s a month before I have to get back in a vehicle again.”

  James walked past her, carrying the box of groceries from Ryal’s house.

  “Hey, Ryal, do I smell ham?” he asked.

  Beth remembered how James had always been hungry. “I see some things haven’t changed.”

  Ryal slid a hand under her elbow. “That’s for sure. Let’s get you inside before he eats it all.”

  The front step creaked as they walked up onto the porch. “That needs fixing,” Ryal said. “I know the place isn’t much, but—”

  Beth paused on the threshold. “Stop saying that, okay? I’m still the same person I was before I left, only older and a whole lot wiser. I don’t need fancy. I need safe.”

  Ryal cupped her elbow. “Then I guess all I need to say is, your castle awaits.”

  “That’s better,” Beth said, and walked inside.

  She was caught off guard by the faint scent of lemon oil, then touched by the gesture. They’d even dusted the place. It was, as Ryal had stated—not much, but it was enough. The front room was oblong, with an old rock fireplace at the far end. The furnishings were old, and the cushions in the sofa were sagging. The curtains at the windows were faded and a little tattered. There were stairs off to the right, leading up to a sleeping loft, and a short hallway to the left that branched in one direction toward bedrooms and the bath, and in another toward the kitchen. Despite its rather forlorn appearance, the place felt welcoming.

  “Come this way,” Ryal said. “You’re getting the bedroom where the grandkids used to sleep. The mattress is the newest one, which isn’t saying much, but everything’s clean.”

  “Stop apologizing for everything. You’re making me feel like a—”

  Ryal tugged a lock of her hair. “Like a princess?”

  She sighed. “Whatever.”

  Ryal eyed the tension in her expression and guessed she was close to a meltdown.

  “Follow me.” He dropped her bag off in her bedroom. “Bathroom is across the hall. I’m going to rescue our dinner from James before he eats it all. Come to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  She nodded, then couldn’t help but watch as he walked away. His shoulders
were bigger, his body more muscular, but he still had the same long, lanky stride. It was surreal to know she was with him again—that she could touch him and talk to him anytime she wanted. But it wasn’t the reunion she’d always dreamed of. The anger and tension between them simmered just below the surface, ready to explode at a careless word or a judgmental look.

  When she went to use the bathroom, she calmly ignored the cracked linoleum and the rust line in the toilet bowl, thankful there was an indoor bathroom rather than an old outhouse. After she finished, she took the gauze pads off her hands and carefully washed, then winced when she tried to dry. Until her hands began healing again, she was definitely limited as to what she could do. After a glance at her windblown hair, she smoothed it down and then started toward the kitchen.

  She was still coming down the hall when she heard Ryal laugh out loud at something James had just said, and she stopped, letting the sound wash over her. She had always loved his laugh. It felt good to hear it again.

  When she got to the kitchen, she paused in the doorway. Ryal was filling glasses with ice and then refilling the old ice trays so they could refreeze. There were no ice makers in this kitchen, although the refrigerator wasn’t as old as she might have imagined. The stove was gas, which explained the propane tank she’d seen at the side of the house when they’d driven up.

  Quinn was at the counter making sandwiches. She noticed Ryal kept watching him, and wondered why.

  “Hey, there you are!” James said when he saw Beth standing in the doorway. “Come sit, girl, and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself the past ten years…besides getting prettier.”

  Beth smiled. “You first. What have you been doing?”

  “Your cousin Julie and I got married. We’ve got two kids, a four-year-old girl named Meggie, and James Junior, who’s a little over a year old. I got me a small patch of tobacco and a couple of milk cows, and I’m the substitute mail carrier for Rebel Ridge. Maybe one day, when old man Hennings retires, I’ll get the job full-time.”

  Quinn picked up a handful of potato chips and started eating, then stopped and handed her one.

  “Watch the salt. It’ll sting your hands.”

  Touched by his thoughtfulness, Beth smiled.

  “Thank you, Quinn.”

  Again Ryal felt a surge of jealousy, but he shoved it aside. Whatever had been between them was gone, which meant jealousy had no place here, either.

  “You still like mustard with your sandwiches?” Ryal asked.

  Beth’s eyes widened—she was startled that he’d remembered such a small thing.

  “Yes, please.”

  Ryal finished making the sandwich that Quinn had started, then cut it in quarters to make it easier for her to hold. When he slid the plate in front of her, he saw her face flush.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She looked up, surprised by his concern.

  “No, I’m just so appreciative of how thoughtful all of you are being.”

  “Mama raised us right,” James said and winked.

  “I put your drink in a mug, so you wouldn’t have to grip a whole glass. Is that okay?” Ryal asked.

  Beth’s gaze locked onto his, and for a moment the silence between them was palpable. “So far you’re batting a thousand.”

  Ryal smiled. Things had to be getting better. She’d almost bragged on him. He put his food on a plate and sat down at the table beside the others. Within a few minutes the tension was gone and they were talking among themselves as easily as if the past ten years had never happened.

  Oddly enough, it was Quinn—and not Ryal—who brought the subject of the past up again.

  “So what have you been doing with yourself since you moved away?” he asked.

  Beth shrugged. “I graduated high school in L.A., which was a nightmare compared to Rebel Ridge. I went to a local community college and then began working before I graduated.”

  “Where do you work?” Ryal asked.

  “Where did I work is the better way of asking that,” Beth said. “I have no idea what any of the people I work with think about my sudden absence, although I was assured by the FBI that they had everything covered.”

  “So where did you work?”

  “I freelance, but on a regular basis, at a couple of publishing houses. I’m an illustrator, mostly of children’s books. I use Lila Bethany as my professional name.”

  “That’s amazing,” Ryal said, and leaned back, eyeing Beth with newfound respect.

  “You’re kidding!” James said. “Like, what are some of the books you’ve done?”

  “I’ve done a lot of different things, but I’ve been working on a series for nearly six years that’s pretty popular. It’s called The Hitchhiker series, about a little ladybug—”

  Ryal suddenly smiled. “Named Bitsy, who hitchhikes on the backs of different animals and birds, and learns something new with every trip she takes.”

  Beth’s smile lit her expression from the inside out. “Yes! You’ve seen it?”

  Ryal was stunned by the fact that all these years he’d been seeing the name Lila Bethany on the cover of his niece’s books and never once thought of Beth.

  “Those are Meggie’s favorite stories. I have to read at least one every time she visits.”

  James beamed. “Meggie is smart as a whip, and my boy is already ahead of his age developmentally.”

  “Says the proud papa,” Quinn drawled.

  “Well, it’s true,” James insisted, then eyed the clock over the stove. “And speaking of family, I need to be getting back to mine. I have a milk cow that freshened up, so I’m milking every evening now.”

  “I’m ready when you are,” Quinn said, then eyed Beth’s hands. “Next time I come up, I’ll stop by Aunt Tildy’s and bring something for your hands. They’ll be well in no time.”

  Beth instantly recognized the name of the old herb woman who lived on the mountain. When money was short, which was often on Rebel Ridge, locals went to Aunt Tildy rather than down to a doctor in the town. “I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought she was ancient when I was a kid.”

  “She isn’t as spry as she was, but she’s still mobile,” Quinn said.

  “Is there anything else you want them to bring?” Ryal asked.

  Beth shook her head. “I wouldn’t ask for more. I’m just grateful for what you’ve all done.” Then her voice broke, and it took her a moment to collect her emotions. She wouldn’t look at Ryal and couldn’t look at the others without crying, so she fixed her gaze on a spot near the toe of her shoe. “I was so scared. Every time they found me, I thought for sure I would be dead before it was over, but somehow I managed to live through it. I couldn’t imagine anything ever being all right in my life again…until now. I know what an imposition this is. I know how much you’re all sacrificing to do this, but thank you, all of you, so much.”

  “Group hug,” James said, and they all embraced her, making her laugh.

  Ryal followed his brothers out, then moved his pickup to the back of the house, beneath the trees, as they drove away. When he started up the back steps, he paused. Something didn’t sound right. He stood for a moment, listening, then quietly walked across the porch and peered in the screen door.

  Beth was leaning across the table sobbing, her head buried in her arms.

  “Well hell,” Ryal said softly, then took a deep breath and walked inside.

  Caught by surprise, Beth straightened abruptly, but it was too late to hide the tears.

  “I…uh—”

  “Hush, girl,” he said, then pulled her up out of the chair and wrapped her in his arms. “No explanations needed. You’ve been blindsided in more ways than one. If it was me, I would be crying, too.”

  Beth went limp in his arms and buried her face against his chest. His heartbeat was rock-solid against her cheek. His arms were strong, and his grip was sure. It was the final confirmation. She’d done the right thing by coming home.

  Nine


  Moe Cavanaugh had been digging into Beth Venable’s background for six hours and had yet to uncover anything that might tell him where she’d gone. At this point it was his opinion that the woman had no life beyond work and the occasional workout at a gym. But this was only the beginning. By the time he was finished, he would know more about her than she did. It was why he got paid the big bucks.

  So far he knew her parents were dead. She had no siblings. Her best friend was also dead, recently murdered. She was a freelance illustrator, mostly for children’s books, and had an apartment in a medium-income part of the city. She was solvent, but not rolling in dough, and she didn’t use credit cards. He wouldn’t mind finding a woman with that particular quality, but he was guessing they weren’t that plentiful.

  She didn’t attend church. She didn’t do volunteer work, and as far as he could tell she didn’t have any hobbies. He’d pulled her phone records and accessed the names of every person she’d called for the past year, and not one of them had turned out to be a boyfriend. He was beginning to wonder if Beth Venable was a lesbian. Maybe she and this Sarah Steinman who’d been murdered had been a couple? It could explain the reason why she’d been at Steinman’s apartment the night Steinman had been killed.

  It took him another hour to find a small news item about a gas leak at Venable’s apartment that had warranted an evacuation. When he noted that the evacuation and the murder of Sarah Steinman had happened within the same twenty-four hours, he realized his theory about her sexual orientation was no longer as solid as it had been. Venable had gone to a friend’s house rather than a hotel after being forced to leave her own apartment. Not an uncommon occurrence.

  Now that he’d run into a small wall on Beth Venable, it was time to expand the search, which meant running backgrounds on her parents. Even though they’d been deceased for several years, he might pop up some extended family in the area.

  He started with Samuel Venable. The man hadn’t shown up in the California DMV records until ten years ago, and after a quick search of property tax records, it was obvious he had never owned property in the state, either.

  Moe leaned back in his chair and reached for a handful of pretzels. He liked the crunch and the salt, and the chewing it took to get them down helped him think. What he needed was a birth certificate and a social-security number. Not a problem.