by Vella Day
Derek stared ahead. Kelly was at a loss for words. How could he defend a man he’d never met when they were talking about her sister! Sure he was a cop and that’s what cops did, but their history together should have made him a little nicer.
“He could have chased her off the road,” she said.
“Could have isn’t the same as he did.”
Jerk. It didn’t matter if he had a point or not.
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the International Plaza parking lot. “I figured we’ll have lots of food choices here,” he said, acting as if they’d been talking about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers recent game and not her sister’s death. “Are you still into Asian?”
Suddenly, he sounded like the Derek of old. Pleasure that he remembered her food preferences interrupted her gloom. “I am.”
She didn’t like the way she forgave him so easily, and she didn’t like the way she was in the depths of depression one minute, and then flying high the moment Derek appeared. She acted like the ball in a pinball machine. Get a grip.
Hell, maybe it was nature’s way of helping her heal.
Diners strolled past the restaurants, looking at their choices, and scented flowers lined the small courtyard as hostesses smiled at potential customers.
Because it wasn’t a weekend, they were seated right away at the Asian restaurant.
His easy dismissal of Michael as a suspect left her at a loss for conversation. For some reason it seemed weird to bring up friends from the past or make small talk. After all, this wasn’t a date.
To avoid any more of his deadly glares, she decided to stick to the case. “How’s your sister’s son handling his mom’s death?” She watched his eyes.
His body tensed. “Not good. He found her, you know.”
Her stomach churned. “No, I didn’t. How terrible.”
“Yeah, it was.”
His cell rang, and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket. His brows pinched together. “Excuse me.” He glanced off to the side. “Hello? ... When?...” His face went pale. “Are you sure? Thank you.”
He swallowed as he clicked his phone shut.
14
What’s wrong?” Kelly asked.
Her question took a moment to register. “Billy’s run away from boarding school.” Derek shoved back his chair barely able to contain his rage and fear.
Her eyes widened and her jaw tensed. “When?”
“That was the Headmaster on the phone. The best he can guess, about four hours ago. Come on.”
Her brows pinched together. “You think he ran away because his mother’s death is only now hitting him?” she asked gathering her purse.
“I have no idea, but his timing sucks.” He didn’t need to be worrying about Billy when he should be finding Rayne’s killer. “You’d think he’d call me if he planned to split.”
She stood up as Derek tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table to cover the water. As he rushed out, he dialed Billy’s number. Damn voice mail. He tightened his grip on the phone. “This is your uncle. Please call me the second you get this message. It’s urgent.” Derek pressed the Off button.
“Where do you think he’d go?” she asked slightly out of breath as she caught up to him.
“It’s hard to say where a kid his age would disappear to. His best friend lives about ten minutes from his house.” He raked a hand over his head. “I’m making the assumption he left the boarding school voluntarily.”
She grabbed his arm. “You think someone might have kidnapped him?”
He refused to go there. Couldn’t go there. Billy and his dad were all that were left of his family. If anything happened to either one, he wasn’t sure how he’d survive. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He glanced upward and then right, hoping his spirit guides would help. They seemed to disappear whenever he needed them the most.
“Maybe he’s headed to your place as we speak, looking for your support.”
Derek ground his teeth to keep from losing it. “I doubt that. The last time we spoke, he wasn’t receptive to me. Why should he want my comfort now?” Billy’s rejection still stung.
They pushed their way through the crowd of people milling outside one of the popular restaurants where loud music was blaring from inside.
“Not everyone absorbs loss in the same way,” she said sounding like a shrink, but the compassion in her voice gave him hope. “Some people don’t grieve for weeks or months.”
Not him. Rayne’s death hit him hard the second he saw her—and the pain kept coming.
When they reached his truck, he opened the passenger door for her. “I don’t think I handled him well. I drilled him about his mom’s death instead of trying to console him.”
She climbed in the seat. As soon as he was behind the wheel, she spoke up. “I’m sure he understands. As to him acting distance, kids never act like they care about any adult, when in fact they do.”
She hadn’t seen Billy. “Did I mention my gun killed Rayne?” He started the engine and peeled out of the lot. “I think the kid thinks I’m responsible for his mom’s death. My dad sure does.”
“Oh, Derek, they can’t possibly blame you.”
“Wanna bet?”
She sat in silence for a moment. “How did the killer get a hold of your gun?” Alarm sounded in her tone.
“I lent Rayne my old revolver. I wanted her to be safe.” He honked as a car in front of him took its sweet time turning. “I had her take lessons and everything to make sure she could use the damn thing. She wouldn’t have brought out the weapon unless she felt threatened by an intruder.” Guilt and remorse chased down his spine.
“Or someone close to her knew where she hid the gun and wanted to make her death look like a suicide. You said the police proved she was murdered.”
He glanced over at Kelly, not believing he hadn’t thought of the possibility. “You’re right. I assumed a strange noise must have scared Rayne, and she grabbed the gun for protection. The intruder overpowered her and took the weapon away from her. But if someone she knew found the gun from her hiding place...” His thoughts raced back to Justin. Or could Billy have accidentally shot Rayne? No. That could never have happened.
“Do you know where to look for Billy?” she asked, as he turned left out of the lot toward Dale Mabry.
“No, but first I’m taking you home.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Aggressive Kelly on the move again.
“Listen, I need to do this alone.” Please let her understand.
She grabbed his arm. “I want to help.”
“I don’t need your help.” He shrugged out of her grasp.
“Stef was my sister.”
He pulled up to a red light and faced her. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She rolled her eyes as if he didn’t have a clue. “Stef’s and Rayne’s death, now Billy’s disappearance, might all be re-lat-ed.”
“They aren’t.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”
Someone behind him honked. He pressed too hard on the accelerator and Kelly grabbed the dashboard to steady herself. “Derek, please.”
“Sorry.” He knew she meant he needed to drive more carefully, but her angst made him reconsider. “All right, you can come with me, but it won’t be any picnic.” Why did he cave so easily? Be a man, Benally. Just say no.
“I’m not looking for a glory date.” She sounded somewhat mollified.
He pulled out his phone as a new thought struck. “I’m such a dumb ass. Billy adores Dad. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went there. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past Dad to drive down to St. Pete and pick him up.”
“Without telling you?”
“Yeah. Remember, Dad thinks if I hadn’t given my gun to Rayne she wouldn’t be dead.”
She placed a light hand on his arm. “Maybe your father didn’t let you know because he was trying to spare you more hurt feelings by not telling you Billy would rather spend time w
ith his grandfather.”
There goes Miss Sunshine again, always looking at the positive side
“Maybe.” Derek didn’t want to get into his family’s long dysfunctional history. He pressed his father’s number and let it ring and ring. “Pick up, dammit.” Derek disconnected. “He’s not answering.”
“Maybe he’s on his way to pick up Billy.”
“No, Billy went missing over four hours ago, and Dad always keeps his cell phone on unless he’s in the woods.”
“So now what?” Kelly asked.
“Billy was at his friend Chris’s birthday party the night Rayne died. I’m thinking maybe he’s there now.”
“Why don’t you just call this Chris kid and ask him?”
He bit back his impatience. “I don’t keep the kid’s number in my cell.”
She said nothing more as he took a few wrong turns trying to find Billy’s friend’s house. Eventually, he located the home and pulled in front. The lights blazed from inside. Good. Someone was home.
Derek slid out of the front seat and hurried to the passenger side to open her door, but Kelly beat him to it. Shoulders straight, she marched to the front door, and he hurried along side her. Boy, was she pissed. Why? He’d let her come. Women. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t – forget it.
Night blooming jasmine filled the air, replacing the scent from Kelly’s perfume—a blessing in disguise. The oppressive heat from earlier today seemed to have gone off to sea.
Deb, Chris’s mom, answered the door. “Detective. What a surprise.” Deb nodded to Kelly, obviously wanting for an introduction. There wasn’t time for niceties.
“Sorry for stopping by so late. I’m looking for Billy. Is he here by any chance?” His fists clenched by his side.
“No. Didn’t he go back to school?” Lines of worry creased her forehead.
He tried not to let his disappointment show. “Yes, but the school called and said he missed evening study hall. They searched the campus but couldn’t find him anywhere.”
Chris popped out from behind his mom. “Hey, Derek.” His gaze shot to Kelly, then straight to the ground. The kid was hiding something, or someone.
Derek turned to Deb. “Do you mind if Chris and I chat? Alone?”
“No. Come in. I’ll be in the den if you need me.” She pulled her lips into a thin, grim line.
He’d been meaning to speak with Chris about the night Rayne died, but he hadn’t had the time. Once Deb disappeared, Derek motioned they sit in the living room. The furniture looked worn but comfortable.
Chris sat on the edge of the chair, his gaze not focused in any one spot for long.
“When was the last time you saw Billy, Chris?”
Kelly sat down next to Derek. Her leg touched his thigh, sending his thoughts to the wrong place. He cleared his throat.
Chris shifted in his seat. “At my party.” He turned his focus to his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
He swallowed. His chin trembled. “It’s been eating me up.”
“What has? Tell me.” Derek leaned forward, his hands clasped in his lap.
“Billy wasn’t at my party the whole night. He left for a little while to go back to his house.” His gaze caught the rug and stayed there.
Derek couldn’t move. The room seemed to darken as if an evil spirit had entered and was strangling the breath out of him. “What time was this?”
“About ten.”
“Ten?” Derek couldn’t breathe. He wanted to unbutton the top button to give him more room the breath but found it already open. “Go on.”
“We’d just finished watching a movie and the guys thought it would be cool to have some...” Chris’s gaze caught the ceiling.
“Some what?”
“Beer. My mom doesn’t let us drink, of course, and Billy said his mom had a ton of the stuff in the fridge.” He finally looked at Derek.
Rayne always kept a six-pack for him, not for her son. Every nerve ending sharpened. “How did Billy get to his house?” It was too far to walk. The dread building inside almost stopped the blood flow to his brain.
“I, ah, let him use Mom’s car.” He looked past the hallway, to where his mom had disappeared. “She didn’t know anything about it. You’re not gonna tell her, are you?” His eyes pleaded with Derek.
Derek didn’t care that Billy drove without a license, nor did he care he’d stolen his Mom’s beer. He struggled with the fact his nephew was at his house at the time Rayne died. “I’m a cop. What do you think?”
Chris paled. “Mom’ll kill me. She’ll ground me for life.”
Now wasn’t the time to give the kid a lecture about morals or breaking the law, though he did wonder where Deb had been when the party was going on, but he’d address that issue her another time. “What time did Billy return to the party?” His gut went into a spasm waiting for an answer.
“Ah, gee, I don’t know. He couldn’t have been gone longer than twenty or thirty minutes.” He slumped back in the chair, defeated. “I know it was wrong, but it seemed so cool at the time. I didn’t think.”
No shit. “Did Billy act strange when he arrived with the beer?”
Sweat appeared on Chris’s forehead. “Strange? How do you mean?”
“Did he mention anything about his mom?”
His eyes brightened. “Yeah. He said when he snuck in the back door he almost blew it ‘cause the damn door banged real loud.” He looked at Kelly. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said, in a quiet voice.
Chris continued. “He said his mom must have been asleep or something because she didn’t catch him. He ran out as fast as he could.” His eyes widened and his mouth contorted. “Was she dead, and he didn’t see her?” He shook his head. “That would be gross.”
Derek searched Chris’s eyes but found no deceit. “I don’t know.” His voice cracked. “When I find him, I’ll ask.”
The fear lifted off the kid’s face. He looked anxious to help. “Did you try his cell?”
“I did, but he didn’t answer.”
“Did you try Megan’s cell?”
Derek straightened. “Who’s Megan?” Kelly’s hand grabbed his thigh, and he tried to ignore her touch.
Chris firmed his lips.
Kelly leaned forward. “Chris, we don’t care if he’s with someone you think his mom wouldn’t have approved of. All we care about is finding him. We want him safe, that’s all.”
Her soft approach seemed to work. A moment later, Chris pulled out his phone. “Her number is 555-6981. She’s, ah, older. She goes to Plant High School. I guess he never told you.”
“No.” Derek put her number in his cell. He’d try it as soon as he left. “Anywhere else he’d go?”
“Just to his grandpa’s place.”
A touch of jealousy surfaced. He should be happy the older and younger generation bonded so well, but he wanted to be the person Billy turned to for help. “Thanks, Chris. Promise me one thing.”
He glanced to the den where his mom was watching television again. “Sure.”
“Call me if Billy contacts you.”
He bit the inside of his lip. “Okay.”
Derek wouldn’t count on it. “Tell your mom goodbye.” Chris nodded.
Once in the car, Derek called this Megan girl. Unfortunately, she was no help in locating Billy. She claimed they never really dated, that they only sat together at the Plant High School football games. Given her concern about his disappearance, Derek believed Billy hadn’t contacted her.
“Now what?” Kelly asked.
“I’m out of options, which means we wait for either Dad or Billy to call us.”
15
With the lights out and two candles lit, Derek sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor in his bedroom, his feather and wolf skin in front of him. Images of Rayne’s body, Billy’s stoic reaction to his mom’s death, and his own steely-hearted attitude toward Kelly, nearly drowned him in despair.
His world was majorl
y fucked up, and he’d caused most of it. If only he hadn’t lent Rayne the gun; if only he’d been around more for Billy; if only he’d been able to talk to Kelly about how upset he was. If, if, if.
He detested that word.
He alone needed to take responsibility for the events in his life. Who knew what other disasters might befall him if he didn’t get his shit together?
He took a gut filling, chest enlarging breath. The smoke from the sage curled upward, helping to calm his inner turmoil. As he pushed out the air from his lungs, he began to feel his spirit lift from his body. All outside noise faded to a dull hum as the sound of his inhalations reached his ears. Derek grabbed his sacred animal skin and concentrated on reaching his spiritual guides. He needed them to lead him in the right direction, to tell him if he’d ever crawl out of his tunnel of darkness.
“Can you tell me where Billy is?” Derek intoned.
He closed his eyes awaiting some phrase that would give him a clue.
Nothing.
Desperation clawed at him. He had nowhere else to turn and needed his spiritual guides. His pulse sped, and his palms moistened. Derek swore they’d spoken when he was standing over Rayne’s body, and then poof, they’d abandoned him. He’d heard from them what? Five times in his life?
Let’s try for six.
He tried to relax his shoulders, his spine, and then his ribcage. Patience. All he needed was patience. The guides would speak if he waited long enough.
The scented smoke surrounded his face, entered his nose, and spiraled into his lungs. His body seemed to hover above the floor as if his soul were trying to escape his mortal flesh. Derek wanted to hear their words and ponder their shrewd advice, but the guides seem to be ignoring him. Maybe he wasn’t fit to receive wisdom from the great ones.
He yearned to call his guides fakes, to rid his mind of the dependence, but he knew their power was strong. He’d grown to rely on them—perhaps too much. They’d contacted him in the past—or had he imagined the voices and imagined their clues?
If nothing else, his father had taught him to respect that which he could not see. As much as he wanted to rebel against his native heritage, he believed in a higher power than the self.