Nightwatch

by Valerie Hansen

  Instead of hanging around in the yard and listening to the men uselessly speculating, however, she had chosen to take the children inside and put them back to bed.

  The sun was just beginning to peek over the tops of the trees to the east when she yawned, stretched and gazed fondly at Tim for the umpteenth time. He had curled his thin body into a ball and appeared to be sleeping, yet his breathing was more rapid than normal.

  She arose and gently touched him, stroking his thick, wavy hair and finding a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. Poor little guy. He acted so grown-up, so responsible, it was sometimes easy to forget he was only seven.

  Tim opened his eyes, saw her and tensed. “Did they find Megan?”

  “Not yet, sweetheart.” Jill tried to calm him further with a tender smile. “I was just checking to make sure you were okay. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you sleepy?” She guessed the answer to that question even before Tim shook his head.

  “Then how about getting up and helping me with breakfast. I can use a pancake batter stirrer.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding hesitant. “But can I get dressed first?”

  “Of course, if your clothes from yesterday have dried enough.” She could tell by the way he was looking at the arms of his pajamas that he had noticed their decorations. “Sorry about the kitten pictures.” Her smile grew. “Those pj’s were all I had. I’m surprised you didn’t object to putting them on in the first place.”

  Although a lopsided smile was the only response she got, she knew what Tim was thinking. “You only went along with it because Mitch was in charge, huh?”

  Tim nodded vigorously.

  “That’s what I figured. He thought he’d fooled you because you were so tired but I knew you must have noticed. A kid as smart as you are doesn’t miss a thing.”

  To her delight, Tim’s countenance lit with a face-splitting grin. His dark eyes twinkled. “I’m real smart. Mama says…”

  Watching his elation fade so quickly touched her heart and made her reach out. “I know. This is hard,” was all she had to say. Tim launched himself into her arms.

  She embraced him and listened for weeping. There was none. The child simply held on to her as if he never intended to let go. Jill understood. She had felt every bit as alone, adrift and confused while growing up.

  Sometimes, she still did.

  Seeing that Jill had chosen to take his place as guard in the boys’ room, Mitch had opted to spend the remainder of the night on the couch. He hadn’t expected to be able to sleep well anyway. Not after being awakened so abruptly and then staying outside with the investigators until nearly dawn. Nevertheless, he had dozed.

  Drowsy, he checked his watch and discovered it was almost seven. Since no one else seemed to be stirring he decided to tiptoe into the kitchen and start the morning coffee. The glass pot was just beginning to fill when Jill and Tim joined him.

  “Good morning,” Mitch said, studying her expression to try to determine if she was still mad at him for doubting Tim’s innocence. It was hard to tell so he purposely kept his greeting brief.

  “Morning. We’re going to make pancakes.”

  “Yeah,” Tim said, grinning. “I’m gonna stir.” He cast Mitch a reproachful glance in passing. “And then Miss Jill is gonna take me shopping for real boy clothes.”

  “Ah, I see. Sorry about the pink pj’s, buddy.” He chuckled. “It was the best I could do.”

  “Uh-huh. You could of let me wear your sweatshirt to bed. I’m big enough.”

  “Almost,” Mitch agreed as he caught Jill’s eye. She was clearly enjoying watching him deal with the childish criticism. For that he was grateful because it had apparently helped her put aside any lingering grudges.

  “So, what did you and the other men finally decide after I left you last night?” she asked. One eyebrow arched to punctuate the question. “Was I right, or was I right?”

  “You were right,” Mitch admitted ruefully. “We spotted a trail of wooden kitchen matches in the pasture. It looked like somebody might have stuffed a whole box into his pocket and not noticed they were falling out as he ran away.”

  “And…?”

  Mitch shrugged. “That’s about all. When the sheriff and the dogs get here today we’ll have to be careful they don’t take the wrong trail. Finding Megan comes first.”

  “Absolutely. But what if the same people are responsible for what happened last night?”

  “Then we’ll have an even better chance of locating her,” Mitch said, pausing to tousle Tim’s already messy hair. “We’ll do it. I know we will. I promise.”

  In his heart he prayed he could keep that vow. While his logical side insisted there was a fifty-fifty chance of failure, his spiritual side kept telling him they had God in their corner.

  Except there’s no guarantee that the Lord will do things my way, Mitch argued, disappointed in his apparent lack of faith. It was one thing to wish for what he felt was right. It was quite another to convince himself to accept the opposite if that was how things turned out. He hated the helpless feelings he got when his best efforts seemed inadequate.

  Sighing, he poured himself a mug of hot coffee and faced the window while he sipped it, pretending to watch the sunrise so he could hide the telltale moisture clouding his vision. It wasn’t fair for an innocent child to have to suffer simply because there was so much evil in the world. It just wasn’t fair.

  Vivid imagination took Mitch where he didn’t want to go and chilled him to the core. Suppressing a shiver, he forced himself to concentrate on visions of a successful rescue rather than on the possibility that physical and emotional injury might be taking place that very moment.

  Why had there been no ransom note? Where could the little girl be? he wondered. None of this made sense. Then again, why ask for ransom when the child’s parents weren’t around to pay it?

  That reasoning took him back to the original crime, the prime question. Who killed Rob and Ellen? And why did the perpetrator choose to cause such devastation? That was the real dilemma. So far, the official investigation was too lacking in conclusive findings to be of much help.

  The only other idea Mitch could come up with was that there might have been some reason to want that office destroyed. But what? He was sure the Pearsons had been running an honest business, so why sabotage it?

  “Maybe that’s the answer,” he whispered, thinking he’d kept the opinion to himself until Jill asked, “What is?”

  “I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Fine. Tell me what’s going on in your head and we’ll compare notes. Two minds are better than one.”

  “Okay.” Mitch refilled his half-empty mug and rested a hip against the tiled edge of the sink. He chose his words carefully since Tim was obviously listening, too. “I was wondering if it could have been the Pearson office that was the real target.”

  “Why?”

  “Good question. What are some options?”

  “Shipping drugs in the packages with the kitchen tools?”

  “No way. You’ve been reading too many mystery novels. Those were two of the most honest folks I’ve ever known.”

  “What then?” Jill asked.

  “A vendetta, maybe? Competition?”

  “For what? The market for kitchen gadgets isn’t exactly small. There should be plenty of customers to go around no matter how many firms offer similar things. Look at the crazy stuff they peddle on TV. If that junk sells, anything should.”

  “You’re right.” He stared across the rim of his mug, watching steam rise and letting his mind wander.

  “How about other motives?” Jill asked.

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know. Didn’t Harlan say that Rob had recently fired several men? Maybe one of them was upset enough to torch the place.”

  “Yeah. Farley and Bobby Joe Jones were caught gambling when they were supposed to be working. And Vernon Betts was pushing seventy.
He’d started making serious mistakes with big orders and costing the company thousands. I know Rob hated to let him go, though, because we talked about it at the time.”

  “Has Harlan checked all of those men yet?”

  “He’s working on it. So, what else can there be? Blackmail, theft, embezzlement…”

  A squeaky gasp from Tim abruptly ended their speculation.

  Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something you want to say, Timmy?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Instead of insisting, Mitch looked to Jill and saw her clear comprehension. They now had a mutual goal. That clever child knew more than he was telling and it was up to them to convince him to open up, to trust them with whatever secrets he was keeping.

  Jill smiled at the bowl Tim had been stirring. “Good job, honey. That batter looks just right. While I’m cooking the pancakes why don’t you go wake Paul and help him get dressed?”

  Judging by the way the boy’s eyes darted from one adult to the other, Mitch assumed he was trying to make a decision. Might he be trying to muster the courage to reveal what it was that he was hiding?

  “Tell you what,” Mitch said, directing his comment to Jill although it was being made for the boy’s sake. “Why don’t I tag along and write down the sizes of clothes we’ll need to look for when we go into town? That way we won’t have to waste a lot of time shopping. I’d like to be back here by the time the sheriff’s teams get done so we’ll know what they found.”

  “Sounds good to me. I hate to leave home at all, even though I know there’s not a thing I can do to help—except maybe fix lunch for everybody.”

  Tim looked unhappy about the prospect of continued adult supervision but he didn’t voice any objection as he turned and went to get his brother.

  Following, Mitch paused next to Jill. “Is that okay with you or do you want me to stay and help you cook?”

  “I can probably handle things out here. You’re the professional firefighter. If you hear the smoke alarm going off you’ll know I’ve burned something and you can take appropriate action.”

  That comment, as well as her tongue-in-cheek delivery, made Mitch chuckle. He lowered his voice and leaned close to her to whisper, “I don’t want to give our little friend any more chances to duck out on us.”

  “I understand. And while you’re at it, try to pick his brain.” She cupped her hand around the side of her mouth, eyed the hallway Tim had just walked down and added, “That kid knows something. I can feel it.”

  Mitch had failed to get more than a few unintelligible grunts and shrugs out of the seven-year-old. Later, while they were all standing in the checkout line at the big-box store where they’d gone to shop for clothing, Jill had an opportunity to start a conversation of her own.

  “What grade are you in, Timmy?”

  “Second. My teacher says I’m real smart.”

  “I agree.” Jill gave him a smile of encouragement. “I imagine you can read very well.”

  “Yup. Paul can read, too, but I do it better.”

  She pulled a glossy-paged magazine from the rack by the candy display. “How about this? Can you read it?”

  Tim squinted at the place where she was pointing. “Sure. It says, ‘Make your sweet tooth happy.’ Is that right?”

  “Perfect. How about this line?”

  “Man con-vic-ted?” His quizzical gaze met hers.

  “That’s right. Go on.”

  “Man convicted of em…em… I don’t know that word.”

  “It’s embezzlement,” Jill said, watching the child’s expression. “Do you know what that means?”

  Tim lowered his gaze and stared at the toes of his new sneakers. Jill and Mitch had decided to permit the boys to wear their new shoes out of the store, making sure to include the empty shoe boxes with their other purchases.

  “Embezzlement is stealing,” Jill explained. “It’s really sneaky. You know it’s wrong to steal, don’t you, Tim?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Have you ever heard the word embezzle before?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “When? Who said it?”

  The boy cast a pleading glance toward Mitch, got no visible reaction, then turned back to Jill. “My daddy.”

  “When?”

  “Just before…you know.”

  She could tell this was hard for the child but if it led to their finding his missing sister or the people who had killed his parents, it was worth pursuing. “Before the big fire, you mean?”

  “Uh-huh. Mama and Daddy were yelling at each other. I just wanted them to stop. I didn’t want anything bad to happen.”

  “We know you didn’t, Tim.” Jill put a hand of comfort on his shoulder. “That awful fire wasn’t your fault. We all know that. It was a grown-up crime.”

  “But—but I could have helped. I saw the man and…” Tears overcame him and he began to weep.

  “Do you think you know who it was?”

  Tim nodded with tears streaming down his cheeks. Jill scooped him up and started for the door.

  “We’ll be out in the parking lot, getting some air,” she told Mitch, eyeing their purchases in passing. “Can you handle this and mind Paul?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll put everything on my credit card.” His brow furrowed. “Is Tim all right?”

  “He will be. We all will be,” Jill said. “I think we’ll finally have something concrete to tell the sheriff.” She gritted her teeth. I just hope it’s not too little or too late.

  Harlan’s men had combed the woods in the direction the farm dogs had first led them, then had regrouped and followed the scent of the more recent arsonist. Neither trail had led to Megan or had turned up any sign of her.

  Sitting with Jill and the sheriff at her kitchen table, Mitch felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “There has to be a connection,” he insisted. “Did Jill tell you what Tim said this morning? Who he thought he saw at the time of the bombing?”

  The older man wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and nodded solemnly. “She did. It’s not exactly news. Rob figured somebody was stealing from the company. He’d already mentioned it to me and I’d briefed the police chief. Our problem was a total lack of proof.”

  Mitch leaned forward intently. “Rob must have had a good reason for his suspicions.”

  “If he narrowed it down he never shared his ideas with me. And, thanks to the explosion and fire, doing an audit is out of the question.”

  “Tim said his parents were fighting that night,” Jill offered. “If there was a theft, why would they be at odds about it? I’d think they’d want to stick together to catch the criminal.”

  “Not if it was a family member or maybe an old friend,” the sheriff said. “I’ve had my eye on Thad and Natalie. Vernon Betts, too, mostly because of all the unexplained losses while he was working at Pearson’s.”

  “But why? How?”

  “That’s a good question. Natalie had better access to the company books, but Thad’s the one who should know plenty about making bombs, especially considering the time he just spent serving in the Middle East. Trouble is, he had a solid alibi for the time of the explosion and so did she. No matter who the boy thought he saw, it can’t have been his uncle Thad.”

  Mitch chimed in. “Natalie was a basket case over losing Ellen the night of the fire. And Thad was always very close to Rob. They were more like best friends than brothers. You can’t really suspect either of them.”

  “I have to suspect everybody,” Harlan said. “Money can do strange things to people.”

  “I still like the disgruntled ex-employees for the arson fire,” Mitch countered. “So does Chief Longstreet. Tim might have been mistaken just because he was expecting to see his uncle in the vicinity.”

  “We’re not ruling anybody out for sure. Now that we’ve tried the tracking dogs and gotten nowhere, I think our best chance is the Amber Alert.”

  “And prayer,” Jill said, trying not to choke up. “Lots and lots of
prayer.”

  THIRTEEN

  Jill and Mitch had discussed what to do with regard to the pending funeral for the children’s parents and had basically come to an impasse. Mitch was dead set against involving the boys at all, while she argued that they deserved the chance to bid their mother and father goodbye.

  Standing in her kitchen, washing the previous day’s dishes while Mitch dried, she made sure the boys were occupied watching cartoons in the living room before reopening the discussion.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why you have to be so stubborn about the funeral. It’s not going to be held in church, right? Brother Malloy is going to conduct the whole service for Rob and Ellen at graveside.”

  “That has nothing to do with it,” Mitch responded.

  “It has everything to do with it. I might feel differently if I thought the boys were going to get turned off about going to church after seeing the caskets sitting in the sanctuary. Visiting the cemetery won’t hurt them a bit.”

  “I totally disagree,” Mitch said flatly. “Kids won’t understand what’s happening and they’ll either end up confused or traumatized—or both.” His voice gentled. “Let them be innocent a little while longer, Jill. There will be plenty of time for them to see the world realistically after they grow up.”

  “That’s the point,” she said, shaking her head. “Now is the time for them to learn to accept loss—before a lot of complicated adult reasoning gets in the way. You said yourself that Tim talked about his folks going to Heaven.”

  “Yes. And that’s a good thing. But it doesn’t mean I think he’s ready to watch a pair of caskets being lowered into the ground.”

  Sighing, Jill had to admit he had a valid point. “Okay. Suppose we talk to Tim and Paul about it and then make our decision based on their reactions?”

  Mitch shook his head. “Uh-uh. Not when Natalie and Thad are likely to be at the cemetery. There’s no way to predict what those two might do or say.” He paused, frowning. “Besides, I’m not even sure it’s okay to take the kids. Are you?”