“And if someone is after me, would they think that today of all days, I’d decide to see where my parents died?”
“You were headed here, so maybe they would think that.” Zane grimaced. “We could argue this all day, Kristin. I’m only thinking of your safety.”
His words warmed her. She felt her face heat, and something lodge in her throat. “I appreciate this. But, Zane, we’re down here and I’m not alone. It won’t take much out of our day, will it?”
She watched Zane glance at the car’s clock. It was late in the afternoon. Finally, he nodded. “As long as you think you’re ready for it. But it may be harder than you realize.”
“You’ve seen me cry at the drop of a hat. I have been grieving for months. My birth mother was an orphan. She lived in a foster home. Clay lost his parents, too. They both rose above it, and they were younger than I am now. I need to do the same, and I need to be as strong as my mother was. I’m ready to deal with my adoptive parents’ death. I have to do this before I deal properly with finding my mother.”
He nodded. Did he understand the way she felt? Had he already dealt with the grief in his life and risen above it? Kristin scooped up the hand-drawn map she’d tossed onto the dash after they’d left the rest stop and tilted her head to study it. “It says we have to drive down Lindbergh Lake Road until we see the lake in the distance.” She looked up and blew out a noisy sigh.
“Having second thoughts?”
She snapped her head over. “No! I mean, I don’t want to be afraid to come here. And unless I face this now, I might never face this. It could become almost a superstition, not wanting to come here, and avoiding this place to keep myself safe. I don’t want to think like that.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s pretty deep.”
“And that surprises you? Do I look like I don’t think deeply?”
She watched as his neck then his face reddened. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I was just commenting on the fact that it is a pretty deep thought, as though you might have considered it before.”
“Not this particular thing, but similar ones. In the weeks after my parents died, I didn’t even want to get groceries for fear of running into someone who would say how sorry they were. Before long, I wasn’t going to places that I associated with my parents.”
“What’s changed your mind?”
They were coming up on the turnoff to Lindbergh Lake. The narrow lake sat oddly broadside in the long valley. She glanced around them. “Seeing others rise above it. People like Clay and my mother, and even that woman Violet wrote about. I remember my pastor saying that avoiding things will only make them harder to deal with. He said things could become a superstition and they would begin to take over a person’s life, and I didn’t want that.”
“I forced you out of all that?” As he talked, he turned onto Lindbergh Lake Road.
“Yes, you did. But that’s good. I needed to be forced.” She stretched out her hand and laid it on his warm forearm. Under the lightweight jacket, she could feel his muscles. They were very tense.
Of course, he’d be on edge. Someone was after her, and she’d dragged him into it. And it wasn’t fair for her to have done that.
She pulled back her arm and stared out the front windshield, hoping to catch sight of the lake soon. She was pretty sure she was going to cry when they got there, but for Zane’s sake, she hoped it was all over quickly. He’d already had to deal with her tears several times this week.
She stole a quick glance at him. He was frowning, deep in thought. What was he thinking about? His brother? Or maybe defying Jackson’s express order to stop her search? Was he thinking that the search could get them both killed, as Violet had inferred?
She shivered despite the comfortable temperature in the car.
“There!” He lit up and pointed.
Kristin leaned forward. “I missed it. Was it the lake?”
“Yup. See?”
She’d expected them to look down on the lake, but rather, as the road bent, they caught the smallest glimpse of the shimmering waters in front of the dark, sheer face of the Mission Mountains. There was hardly any descent toward the water.
She read the directions again. “We have to go to the left and follow the lake until we see a signpost that’s bent over.”
Tensely, they followed the map in silence for several long minutes, eventually seeing the small signpost the waiter had mentioned. The only thing keeping it upright was an arrow-straight pine acting as a splint. The sign showed the symbol of a look-off.
This was the place where her parents had died.
Zane pulled off the road, almost brushing the trees on her side. He noticed her curious look at pulling over on a lonely stretch of semi-dirt road. “I noticed another car behind us, so I don’t want to block it when it goes by. Are you ready?”
With a nod, she threw open the door, then waded through the bushes, all the while carefully containing the swelling feelings within her.
Please, Lord, just be with me. I need strength.
Zane was pointing to the break in the trees. “I can see where the car veered off the road. Look at the damaged trees.”
Whatever tow truck or crane had been used to fish the car from the water had also cleared out a narrow swathe of trees. Yet, there remained evidence of a small look-off at the end of the damage. Chewed-up pieces of a wooden viewing station had been bulldozed to one side, leaving only a small portion of the platform behind.
For a few minutes, Kristin stared down at the cold, dark water. Spring always raised the levels of lakes and streams, and now the water lapped against the rocks and trees and chunks of the battered station, threatening to rise farther still with the melting mountain snows streaming into the cold, dark lake. Erosion had eaten away at the shoreline, drawing it closer to the road than perhaps the first travelers had planned.
She shut her eyes. She still had no idea why her parents had come down this narrow, lonely road. There was nothing but cottages here and only the past few days had it been nice enough to entice their owners to open them for the summer.
“Why would my parents come here in January?” She wasn’t really asking Zane, who stood quietly behind her. The question just slipped out.
“There must have been a reason,” he said. “We should have asked the waiter. He seemed to know a lot. Do you remember who reported the accident? It’s not as though this place sees a lot of people.”
She shook her head. “The police probably told me, but it didn’t sink in. It would be on the police report in Dad’s filing cabinet, I’m sure.” She swallowed. “Maybe I’ll read it someday.”
He stepped forward, peering down at her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She nodded, even offered a small, calm smile. Somehow, she could hold back the desperate loneliness within her. She actually did feel more at peace. Was it because of Zane’s presence?
She drew in a deep breath of cool, lake air. “I’m fine. Really, I am. It’s hard to explain, but I’m okay with being here. I feel a strange kind of peace.”
Would Zane understand that? From what he’d said, he didn’t believe in much anymore. She smiled up at him. “I do feel better. I’m glad I came. It’s sad, and I will probably feel it when I get home, because my house is so empty now. But right this minute, it’s okay.”
With that, she turned to walk past him, ready to leave here knowing that her mom and dad were together in heaven.
As she passed close to him, Zane reached out to touch her hand, and suddenly, she didn’t just want him to rub her arm, or pat it as he might a neighbor who’d lost her precious cat.
She wanted more. She turned with him, and boldly wrapped her arms around him, hoping to soothe not only her own pain, but also the hurt someone had caused him.
He accepted her hug with his own. And as she held him, she wondered at her sudden brashness. She didn’t go around embracing people, except those few older ladies at church who were only too glad to off
er hugs and advice and help with her loss.
Regardless, she laid her head against his chest, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat and wondering if she should be praying for wisdom in dealing with him, instead of praying for peace.
He set her away from him and tilted his head as he looked at her. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “I kind of figured you needed a hug as much as I did.”
“Well, a guy would have to be nuts to turn down a hug from a beautiful woman.” His expression became uncomfortable for a moment. “As we came down this road, I actually prayed that you’d feel better.”
“You did?” She bit her lip, afraid to say something that might embarrass him, or push him further from God.
He shrugged. “It worked. God answered it. I prayed you’d find peace here.”
She swallowed. “God is good. And life with Him isn’t about condemnation, Zane. It’s about love. God loves us.”
He stared at her for a moment, studying her eyes in great detail, it seemed to her. She thought she saw a glimmering tear there, but wasn’t sure. It might have just been a reflection of the brilliant sun or the white peaks of the Mission Mountains.
“Forget everything you’ve been taught about God,” she added softly, “and just let Him teach you what He wants you to know. Ask for wisdom and you’ll get it.”
“Have you?”
Turning, she peered around him at the glimmering water. “I think I have. It’s as if God is taking a bad situation and bringing something good out of it. I don’t know what that is yet, but I think it may include you,” she said, feeling self-conscious at sounding as if she was falling in love with him.
It couldn’t be that. They’d only known each other for a few days. Hardly enough, and yet being with him was suddenly extremely important to her.
He lifted those dark brows of his. “Maybe so. I have to admit to being mad at God for such a long time that I’ve hardly been listening. It was as if God had so many rules for me—”
“Zane!” Interrupting him, Kristin spun him around to face the watery vista through the trees. The steep climb of green mountains at the far side of the lake was reflected in water, albeit in a wobbly, shimmering way thanks to the stiff breeze. “Recognize this?”
“It’s Lindbergh Lake, Kristin.”
“It’s more than the lake. I see McDonald Peak and Sheep’s Head Peak, and I think…” She spun around, scanning the roll of land behind where they stood. “This is incredible! This is the exact spot!”
What was she talking about? Zane watched her nonetheless scramble up the short embankment opposite the lake, then hurriedly cross it to peer up at the gentle slope on the other side.
“There’s something up there.”
He squinted at the side of the hill. “It looks like some kind of a shelter.”
“It’s a small cabin. It looks like it’s on a rocky ledge up there. I bet that’s where your brother stayed while he painted this view. In all the seasons.”
“Who?”
“Bobby Kendall. Don’t you recognize this site?”
“From the painting at the university? I didn’t see it, remember?”
“Sorry. You’re right. But I saw it, and I’m sure this is the spot. Bobby could own that cabin up there and come back to it! Any time!”
Zane shook his head. Not today.
But he found himself smiling at her attempt at private investigating, despite the fact that she and her mother were in danger. “I’m not going to stake out this place if that’s what you’re suggesting. Your safety is too important.”
She looked a bit sheepish, then picked her way back down the short hillside.
“I guess you’re right. But I traveled all the way through New England after the trial with no problem, so I figured it would be okay to stand out here in the middle of nowhere. I know I have to be careful, but remember I wouldn’t be hard to find if someone really wanted to locate me.”
Zane frowned, hating that she was right. “Didn’t Violet mention something about a newspaper article and an old photo of your adoptive parents and you? If Clay could find it and see the resemblance to your mother, what’s stopping the Mob from doing the same?”
Nothing would, he realized, suddenly not liking the quiet world around them. The breeze had died, and only the sounds of nature broke the silence.
It was too quiet here.
He cocked his head to one side, listening. Over the gentle music of nature, he could hear the low growl of an engine. Someone back a way was idling their car, someone beyond the last slight bend in the road.
The car behind them should have passed them by now.
And they hadn’t passed a cottage in the past half mile of this old dirt road, so there was no reason to be sitting back there, idling. Whoever had been following them had now stopped, as if knowing they were stopped, too.
Still up the side of the hill a few feet, Kristin looked down at him. “You’re acting like you’ve tuned me out completely, you know. I was talking to you.”
“Get down here. Now!” His words were cool, brisk and meant to grab her attention.
She obeyed, scurrying and sliding down the hill to him. “What’s the matter? What do you see?”
“I heard a car revving its engine. I think it’s the one behind us that I was expecting to pass by here. We didn’t pass any cottages where they could have stopped. Someone knows we’ve stopped and is waiting for us.”
“Just up past the bend, you mean? How would they know we’d stopped?”
“I was wondering the same thing.” He twisted around to stare at his car. A car tracker? Those devices were as small as a cell phone and could easily be attached to his car when he wasn’t around. Whoever was idling their car up the road a bit could be tracking them. How else would they know that he’d stopped?
He strode over to the side and began to search the wheel wells and bumpers, but found nothing. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Get in.”
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he started the engine, shoved the stick into Drive and eased onto the dirt road.
“Isn’t this road a dead end?” Kristin asked.
“Yes. But we’re being followed.”
“How is heading toward a dead end going to solve anything?”
“I don’t know if it will. Put your seat belt on. And you may want to pray.”
“As long as you’re praying, too.”
“I plan to.” God, I was a fool to head down this dead-end road when I knew someone was after Kristin. Now I’m going to need Your help.
He listened to her pray, a low, barely audible prayer as he picked up speed. Sure enough, they came to the end. A narrow driveway wound into the dense evergreens. There was a cottage or house beyond, but he wasn’t planning to endanger whoever may be there. They may have even known Kristin’s parents, because what other reason would the couple be down this way in the middle of winter, but to see whoever lived here?
The reason eluded him. He needed to get back to his office to find that out. In the meantime, there were more pressing issues.
At the last driveway, he slammed to a stop and backed around. Dust and gravel peppered his wheel wells.
Kristin gripped the dashboard. “What are you doing?”
He pulled along the edge of the rounded end of the road, partially hidden by the trees.
“Are we going to just sit and wait for them? This road isn’t wide enough for both of us.”
“I know, but hopefully they’ll stick to the right as they reach the end of this road. That should give me enough space to whip past them and escape. They’d have to turn around. I don’t think that driver plans to race past us with guns blazing. Not on a dead-end road.”
“Who’s to say he’s not going to do it anyway?”
“He wants a show. He and whoever’s with him. They aren’t here to rid themselves quietly of an informant, then dump the body into the lake, never to be discovered. These guys have
been biding their time while we were stopped to make sure they get plenty of mileage out of killing you.”
“That’s a whole lot of assumptions. What if they fire at our windshield?”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he stared at the potholes left over from the winter. “Not the easiest thing to do on a bad road like this, when you have to lean out of your side window and take aim.”
“Oh, so they won’t fire at us. They’ll ram us instead!”
Zane said nothing, focusing his thoughts on how to get Kristin out of this unscathed.
They idled there at the end of the driveway for several long, painful minutes. Very quiet minutes, they were.
Nothing happened.
Zane worked his jaw for another minute. Still nothing. Finally, he eased forward.
“What are you doing?” Kristin whispered.
“I can’t hear the car anymore. I was expecting them to follow us down here.”
“Do you think they gave up?”
“I’m hoping so. I need to get you out of here, immediately.”
He maneuvered a gentle curve at as fast a speed as he dared to go. The way, though flanked by tall, arrow-thin evergreens, was now straight, but only for a short time. There was another gentle curve before they returned to the crash site. Zane felt sweat bead on his brow.
The way straightened again; the crash site came into view. Suddenly, from around the next turn, a dark blue car roared.
A tall, heavyset man was driving, while another man hunkered down in the passenger seat. Zane watched as the driver yanked hard on the steering wheel. The other car careened into the center of the road, toward him.
These guys were trying to run them off the road! “Get down, Kristin!”
Automatically, he veered to his right, but when the thick branches scraped against the window, he glanced around. If he shifted any closer to the right, they would crash into the dark woods. But to steer to the left meant they’d crash into the other car or, worse, plunge into the icy lake.
The other car matched his move.
“That guy wants to run us off the road!” Kristin called out.
Fatal Secrets Page 9