The Vanishing

by Jana DeLeon

  “Well, she could do worse than a trauma nurse watching over her while she sleeps. I’ll check back in before my shift is over,” he said then left the room.

  The nurses finished up their work and left as well, but one returned a couple of minutes later pushing a lopsided recliner. “It’s a bit beaten up,” the nurse said.

  “It’s fine. Thank you.”

  Colette pulled the chair close to Anna’s bed, where she had a clear view of her friend’s face and the monitors, then collapsed on it, the worn-out cushions sinking around her like a beanbag. Stress and exhaustion had worn her body and mind to a frazzle. She’d been running on adrenaline for so long that she could feel it leaving her body.

  Anna’s condition wasn’t great, but it wasn’t life-and-death. Within the next twenty-four hours, Anna should awaken. When they could question her and test her motor skills and physical control, they’d know better the extent of the injury and could make a better estimate of what the short- and long-term effects might be.

  The most important thing was that she was alive and safe.

  Colette’s mind raced with all the activity of the day. That morning, she’d wondered if anything would ever be accomplished with Max, who clearly didn’t think her case was worth the time spent. But he’d pursued every avenue like the professional Alex had assured her he was and had found Anna in one day. Granted, there were a million unanswered questions about why Anna had left and what had happened to her, but Max had finished the job he’d been hired to do.

  A wave of disappointment washed over her as she realized exactly what finding Anna meant—that she had no reason to see Max again. Perhaps once to wrap up the finer points, but then, Alex may handle that along with the billing.

  It was hard for Colette to wrap her mind around the fact that she’d grown so used to leaning on him in such a short time, even though it felt as if they’d lived a lifetime in a single day. He was so guarded, so private, that it had been hard to learn anything much about him, but when she’d been able to peek through the veneer into the man himself, she always liked what she saw.

  Max Duhon was a strong, capable man with a good heart. He was also the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she was hugely attracted to him on a physical level. Maybe it had just been too long since she’d enjoyed the company of an attractive man, the feel of a man’s bare skin pressed against hers.

  She sighed. Whom was she kidding? It wasn’t a drought causing her attraction to Max. It was Max causing her attraction to Max. She’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him.

  It was just as well that the investigation had wrapped up so quickly. The last thing she needed was to get tangled up with another emotionally unavailable man, and Max showed all the signs of being exactly that. If only she could find a nice, balding accountant with a potbelly attractive, all her relationship problems would be solved.

  She rose and checked Anna’s charts and the machine readouts again, just to break her mind off from thinking about the unattainable Max. A couple of minutes later, she sat back down and closed her eyes, just to rest them.

  She didn’t even remember falling asleep.

  * * *

  HOLT CHAMBERLAIN STEPPED through the front door of his cabin and gave his wife a big smile. Alex stood in the kitchen, a place he thankfully didn’t find her often. She frowned over a pot of something red and bubbly.

  “I see you’re trying to cook again.”

  Alex tasted a bit of the red stuff and shook her head. “It’s just spaghetti sauce. It comes out of a jar, for goodness’ sake. How do I manage to mess that up?”

  Holt laughed and stepped up behind her, then wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “You have talents that far outweigh cooking.”

  She turned around to kiss him and then smiled. “I don’t want Max to think I’m slacking, letting you prepare all the meals.”

  “I see. This isn’t about wanting to pull your weight or some burning desire to be a better cook. It’s about impressing my brother. Should I be jealous?”

  “Probably. He’s gorgeous.”

  Holt grinned. “All the girls always thought so.”

  “He did break a lot of hearts in Vodoun.” Alex inclined her head toward the kitchen window. “He’s outside. Said he was going out to the dock to think. That was over an hour ago.”

  “Hmm, you thinking something’s up?”

  “I think he’s at odd ends, trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.”

  “I don’t understand. He’s here working with us.”

  Alex sighed. “You men are all the same. I don’t think it’s his profession that’s troubling him. Correction—I don’t think it’s his profession that’s troubling him the most. There’s far more to life than what you do to make a living, which is often the easy part.”

  Holt looked out the window to the dock. He could just make out the top of Max’s head in the fading sunlight. “I guess I should talk to him, huh?”

  She kissed him again. “That’s why I love you so much. You always know the right thing to say.”

  He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Tums. “I’ll get him ready for dinner while I’m there.”

  She flicked a dish towel at him and he hurried out the back door, laughing.

  If anyone had told Holt when he planned his brief return to Vodoun that he’d not only end up staying and opening a business but settling down in marital bliss with his high-school sweetheart, he would have told them they were crazy. But now he couldn’t imagine any other life. He had rewarding work, a beautiful place to live, and the most incredible woman in the world working beside him every day and, even better, lying beside him each night.

  A little indigestion now and then was a small price to pay for such a good life.

  He walked down the path to the dock, thinking about Max as he walked. If only he could convince his brother that change could be the thing that made his life complete. That the need to distance himself from everyone would only hurt him in the end. But Holt knew he needed to tread lightly with his advice. Max was a grown man and definitely his own man. He respected Holt and had always looked up to him, but he wouldn’t appreciate Holt poking into his personal life uninvited.

  The worn wooden slats of the dock creaked as Holt stepped on them, and Max turned slightly to see who was approaching. He gave Holt a wave but didn’t seem overly enthusiastic to see him.

  Holt sat on a pylon diagonal to Max and tossed him the antacids, hoping to lighten the strain he could see on his brother’s face. “Alex is cooking tonight.”

  Max looked down at the bottle and smiled. “Did she see you leave the house with these?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she didn’t shoot you?”

  “She’s a very honest woman and admits her weaknesses, but she may have hit me with a dish towel on my way out.”

  Max opened the bottle and shook a couple of the tablets onto his palm. “I hate to agree with both of you, as it doesn’t seem polite since you’re giving me a place to stay, but my stomach lining appreciates your looking out.”

  “No problem. I hear congratulations are in order. You keep solving cases in one day, you’re going to make the agency look good or my own work look really bad.”

  Max shrugged. “It wasn’t any big deal. I did everything you would have done. We just lucked out finding Anna in the swamp. I don’t think she would have made it much longer.”

  “Alex said she’s in ICU and Colette’s staying with her.”

  “Yeah. She’s stable, but they won’t know if that blow to her head caused damage until she wakes up and they can run some more tests.”

  Holt studied his brother, wondering what he was leaving unsaid. He’d expected Max to be satisfied with the work he’d done, maybe even a bit happy that they’d found the girl alive. Instead, he had that brooding look he always got when he was thinking hard on something he didn’t like.

  �
��You don’t seem all that satisfied with the outcome,” Holt said. “Any particular reason why?”

  Max blew out a breath. “The whole situation doesn’t make sense. Colette said that head injury was about a day old because of the color of the bruising. If she was already injured, why was she unconscious in a completely uninhabited area of the swamp? I checked the area where I found her and there wasn’t a trail anywhere nearby.”

  Holt frowned. What Max said didn’t sit well with him, either. “You think she was running from someone?”

  “That’s the best explanation, isn’t it? That someone attacked her, maybe even held her somewhere, and she got away. Running from her attacker would explain why she seemed to have no designated course. As exhaustion set in, that head injury might have worsened until she finally collapsed.”

  “That’s sounds plausible, even likely.” Holt sighed. “So what do you think we should do about it?”

  “Until Anna wakes up and tells us what happened, there’s nothing much we can do. Technically, our job is over as soon as I finish up the paperwork.”

  “And that bothers you.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “There’s something else. Something I didn’t tell Colette when I talked to her on the phone or Alex when I briefed her earlier.”

  “What is it?”

  Max told him about finding the gris-gris on his jeep. “I don’t like anonymous threats from someone who attacks young girls. Pisses me off.”

  “Pisses me off, too.”

  “Good. So if I wanted to spend some time checking up on a couple of things—hours that we wouldn’t bill Colette for—that would be okay with you?”

  “Of course,” Holt said, surprised at the question. “You know I trust your judgment. If you think there’s something there to find, then you should do it.”

  “Even if it’s not official agency business?”

  “Max, we all have personal things that need tending to. I wasn’t exactly following the rules of my temporary sheriff’s position when I helped Alex search for her missing niece. If this is weighing on your conscience, you have to do something about it.”

  Max nodded and stared down at the dock. Holt studied his brother, wondering how much more he’d left unsaid. Wondering if his personal interest in this case was only because of the injuries Anna Huval had sustained and the mysterious way in which they’d found her or if his interest was because of Colette.

  Holt would have to be blind to have missed how attractive his wife’s former coworker was, and no one would ever accuse him of being blind. Before he could change his mind, Holt asked. “Your personal interest in this wouldn’t have anything to do with Colette, would it?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I have eyes. She’s an attractive woman—smart and capable. Reminds me of someone else.”

  Max smirked. “Yeah, she reminds me of someone else, too, and I’m not referring to Alex.”

  Holt frowned. As far as he knew, Max had never been in a serious relationship. At least, they had never been serious for Max. He’d always figured his brother was concentrating on his career and didn’t want to get sidetracked with a relationship, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Alex was right about his brother trying to figure out his life.

  “You going to fill in the blanks?” Holt asked. “Or do you just plan on leaving me hanging?”

  “Come on, Holt. We both know I spent more time with you and your mother growing up than I did with my own. She was always at a board meeting or a client meeting—this state, that country. She could have rented a hotel room for cheaper than what our house cost given the amount of time she was home.”

  Holt stared at Max for a couple of seconds, surprised at his words and trying to connect them with their childhood. “I guess I never thought about it,” he said finally. “You and your mother always seemed to get along fine, and it wasn’t like having you stay with me was any hardship. The best times I had were with you and Tanner.”

  “They were great times,” Max agreed, “but it just wasn’t very often. I spent a lot more time with nannies and housekeepers than you were ever aware of. Even when my mother was around we were more roommates than parent and child.”

  Max rose from the bench and paced the pier. “She got pregnant on purpose,” he said, “thinking our dad would leave your mom. I heard her telling a friend. She never wanted kids. All she ever wanted was her career and our dad.”

  Max blew out a breath. “When Dad was killed, I told everyone she was on a business trip and couldn’t be reached, but it was a lie. She was at the airport in New Orleans.”

  “Why didn’t she cancel her trip?”

  “She did and then hopped a plane to Bermuda so she could figure out a way to ‘deal’ with his death. The housekeeper stayed with me, sat up nights with me, cried with me. Even after she came home, she never mentioned Dad even once and never has since.”

  Holt tried to imagine what Max must have felt, must still feel, but he couldn’t stretch his mind that far. His own mother had made a bad choice in trusting their father over and over again, but Holt had never once doubted how much she loved him and his two half brothers, even though they weren’t hers. “I’m sorry, man. I had no idea.”

  “You were a kid, too. It wasn’t your job to know those things or fix them.”

  Holt knew Max was right, but it still bothered him to know that Max had been alone so much when they were boys. Their father had fidelity issues, producing three sons with three different women, all born within a two-year span. He’d been married to Holt’s mother at the time, and she’d tried to stick it out after Max was born, but when another mistress turned up pregnant, she filed for divorce.

  Unfortunately, their father hadn’t been overly interested in being a good parent, either. He spent more time making money than he did making men out of his boys, which left most of the child-rearing responsibilities to their mothers.

  Holt’s mother and Tanner’s mother had never been able to resist their father’s charm, and he bounced in and out of their houses and lives for years. If he hadn’t been murdered, Holt had no doubt he’d still be playing them against each other. Only Max’s mother had cut him off completely, and now Holt realized that had left Max with even less parenting than he and Tanner had.

  “So what does any of that have to do with Colette?” Holt asked.

  “Colette’s a career woman. She’s dedicated to her job, and it’s not the sort of job you can be less dedicated to just because you feel like it that day. She’s got to be one hundred percent all the time or not do it at all.” Max shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong—I admire and respect that. I just don’t want it for myself. I especially don’t want it for my kids.”

  “So what…you want to put women back in the fifties? I have to tell you that may get you shot.”

  “Not at all. I just don’t want a woman in my life who’s chosen a career that has to come before everything else. I’m not going to do it, and I expect my spouse not to do it, either. I quit police work for that reason. It can swallow you up.”

  Holt rose from the pylon and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Only if you let it.” He left the dock and walked back into the cabin.

  “You were right,” Holt said as he walked inside.

  “Of course, I was right,” Alex said. “About what this time?”

  “He’s got things on his mind.” Holt recounted their conversation. “I feel guilty that I never realized…”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never thought about it, either. Looking back with a different perspective, everything he says is clear as day, but it wouldn’t have been when we were kids.”

  Holt sighed. “He’s carrying a lot of anger around over his mother, not that I blame him after hearing all that. His views on careers and parenting are totally skewed, but I don’t think he’s ready to hear that things don’t have to be that way.”

  “No. In his
mind, his mother made a choice between her job and him because she couldn’t do both. You and I know she could have chosen both, but she didn’t. That’s the part he doesn’t want to come to grips with—that she chose to cut him out of her life.”

  “Who the hell would want to come to grips with that?” Holt blew out a breath. “Given all that, I can’t even imagine what he thinks about our father.”

  “You’re going to have to ask. You’ll need help from him and Tanner if you ever want to solve your dad’s murder.”

  “I know, but the time’s not right just yet. Maybe when all this business with Colette is settled, I’ll pull out the files and go over everything with him.”

  Alex nodded. “You know him best.”

  Holt stared out the kitchen window, barely able to make out Max’s silhouette in the fading sunlight. “I used to think so,” he said.

  He turned to face Alex. “There’s something he’s not telling me. I could see it racing through his mind, on the tip of his tongue, but he wouldn’t let it out.”

  “Be patient. He’s trying to find balance in his own life. Right now, everything is either-or. When he gets to the middle himself, he’ll be able to understand that in others, then I imagine he’ll talk to you.”

  “Hmm.” Holt glanced back outside before turning on the sink water to wash up for dinner. He hoped whatever Max was hiding didn’t cause him more trouble before he decided to talk.

  Chapter Seven

  A gasping sound yanked Colette out of a deep sleep and sent her bolting out of the recliner and to her feet. When she managed to get her sleepy eyes into focus in the dim light of the ICU, she screamed.

  Someone was holding a pillow over Anna’s face, trying to smother her.

  Her scream caused the attacker to drop the pillow, and he grabbed the IV stand. Before she could even register what was happening, he swung it around and struck her in the head. Her temple exploded in pain and the entire room blurred as she stumbled, trying to remain standing. Unable to maintain her balance, she crashed to the floor.

  A second later, the IV stand clanged on the floor next to her. By the time her vision cleared, he was gone. She heard yelling down the hallway and the sound of running.