I reach over and grab her hand. “What do you mean, a girl like you? Listen to me, Ziggy. I was exactly like you and I mean exactly. My mother would say, ‘Mel, you’re a huge pain in the ass, but I’ll never give up on you, so give it a rest.’ You, Zelda Ignatius, aka Ziggy, have people in your life like my mother. Give them a chance. And, I’ll tell you a little secret about Riley.”
I pause until she leans close and whispers, “What?”
“He’s not attracted to your typical airhead teenage girl. He’s wise beyond his years. He even hit on me last year, until I said I was too old for him.”
Her lips form a perfectly round O. Am I finally reaching this girl?
As we pull into the Rockin’ R driveway, Riley emerges from the barn and waves Buttercup into a parking spot. Ziggy checks herself out in the rearview mirror and climbs out of the car, casting sidelong glances at Riley.
“Slight change of plans,” Riley says. “I’ll be driving you to New Dawn. Dad forgot he has a dentist appointment today.” He beckons to Ziggy. “I’ll show you what needs to be done.” He pivots and walks to the barn.
Ziggy scorches me with a hateful look and hisses, “Nice one, Mel.”
I lift my hands. “Hey, I had no idea, so don’t blame me. Just do your job. He’ll be back.”
She flips me off and follows Riley into the barn. I remain outside, stunned by how rapidly our tenuous relationship had gone south. My mother’s second favorite saying passes through my mind. Pride goeth before a fall.
Her first favorite saying? When something really matters, you should never give up.
I’m not done with you, Ziggy.
Chapter Eighteen
Hitchcock stands in front of the community building after we’re waved through the gate.
Riley mutters, “Oh, great. My guard dog is waiting for me.”
It’s not Riley he’s waiting for. After Hitchcock sends Riley to the shooting range, he turns to me. “I’ll walk you to Swede’s.”
“He told me to meet him at the range.”
“Change of plans.”
He clamps a hand on my shoulder and points me toward the path leading to Jake’s cabin. His hand feels heavy and intrusive, as if I’m now under his control. I don’t like it and pull away, putting some space between us. He continues walking beside me.
“I know the way. You probably have something important to do,” I tell him.
After a brief, humorless smile, his gaze travels over my body. “Honor Melanie Sullivan,” he says. “That’s your name. Right?”
I stop and turn to face him. Is this a new game we’re playing? I gaze into his squinty bloodshot eyes and see malevolence in his soul. A chill runs through my body. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“I know a lot about you, Ms. Sullivan.”
So he knows my full name. Big deal. A lot of people do. I bite back the Goodie for you, I’m longing to say, knowing it will get me nowhere. Instead, I say, “What is your interest in me, Mr. Hitchcock?”
I hold my ground as he takes a step closer and says, “I thoroughly vet everyone who comes through our gate. You have a very colorful past, hence my interest in you.”
I can tell he’s dying to elaborate and try to think of a way to deflect him. “I’m just here to learn how to shoot.” I dig around in my tote bag, pull out my cell phone and check the time. “Speaking of which, I’m late. So, if you’ll excuse me…”
He takes hold of my arm. “Let me finish.”
Once again, I pull away.
He lifts both hands and backs away. “Hear me out. There’s a reason we’re called New Dawn. We welcome those who have made mistakes in their lives and want to start over. This is a place of refuge. All we ask is that they contribute in some manner.”
“How does that concern me?”
“Because,” he says with a forced smile, “I thought you might like to join us. You connected with Jake’s twins. If you lived here, you could be with them every day, see to their needs.”
Before I can open my mouth to protest, he says, “I know your secrets. You murdered a man in San Bernardino. You tried to kidnap a baby at the hospital. But your past is of little consequence here. We protect our own.”
I’m livid with rage, but know I need to tread carefully, if I ever want to see Kimber and Gunner again. Be cool, Mel, I tell myself. Though I’d rather not, I stare directly into his eyes. “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Hitchcock, but I have to decline. As for my supposed crimes, if you dig a little deeper, you’ll find the so-called murder was ruled an accidental death and I fulfilled my obligation to the court. As for the baby snatching, I never left the hospital. Maybe you need to be more thorough in your research.”
Hitchcock is unfazed. He shrugs as if my comments mean nothing. “I’m aware of your involvement with the Rathjen family. I understand you knew the Muslim girl Riley was dating. As I remember, her murder remains unsolved.”
He pauses and waits for me to respond. When I don’t, he says, “I also know about your unique ability to read souls.”
I shrug. “Not exactly a secret since it was mentioned in the newspaper last summer.”
“What do you see in my soul, Ms. Sullivan?”
There are so many ways I can answer his question. I decide to take the high road while dishing out a dollop of truth. “As I’m sure you already know, my dad is also a soul reader. We have a business together called CyberSecure Plus and we usually charge for our services. But, since you asked and I’m on your home turf, this one’s for free. When I look into your soul, I see a man who is highly intelligent, but has anger issues.”
His eyes widen in surprise before his face settles into its usual stoic expression. “Sometimes anger is a good thing. It enables you to accomplish goals that may otherwise be out of reach.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Do you care what I think?”
His lips part in a facsimile of a smile, revealing yellowish teeth. “Yes, because if I have my way, you’ll be part of New Dawn one day.”
I shake my head. “Thanks for the offer but I’m perfectly happy living the way I do.”
“We’ll see,” he says. “Since you know the way, I’ll leave you now. Enjoy your shooting lesson. Enjoy your time with the twins. Who knows when you’ll see them again?”
He pivots and trudges back down the path without a backward glance, leaving me frustrated and a little pissed off. If there’s one thing I hate it’s a bully and Hitchcock is the living embodiment of the word. He uses his power to threaten or intimidate in order to get what he wants. And what he wants is for me to be part of New Dawn. I’m pretty sure his interest is not based on my charming personality.
How clever the man is. He totally zeroed in on my attachment to Kimber and Gunner and uses it as leverage. It’s also obvious he’d like to use my soul reading abilities to further his cause. Whatever his cause may be. Who better to learn from than Jake, the pretend father of the twins?
I try to calm down before I reach the Gunderson cabin, taking deep breaths and talking to myself. When I tap at the door, it flies open revealing Gunner. He peers up at me with a shy smile and steps back so I can enter. With a squeal of delight, Kimber scampers across the room and wraps her arms around my legs. I reach out and pull Gunner into a hug as well. He stiffens at first and then snuggles close.
Pressed against my body, Kimber’s voice is muffled. “Told you, Gunner. Told you she’d come.”
Gunner pulls away and scowls. “Females always think they’re right.”
Kimber puts her hands on her hips and glares at her brother. “That’s ’cause I am right.”
Even though I’m longing to, I know better than to address the female issue. Instead, I change the subject. “Where’s your dad? Already at the range?”
A chair scrapes across the floor and Jake appears in the doorway of his bedroom/office. He has dark circles beneath his eyes. His fingers are ink-stained.
“Hi Mel. I hav
e a little work to finish before we shoot. How about you and the kids go pick up the mail. By the time you get back, I should be done.”
“No problem. Doing another sketch?”
His gaze darts away from mine and back. “Special order.”
I’m not close enough to look into his soul, but his body language tells me he’s hiding something. He turns and shuffles back into his workspace.
I hold out my hands. “Let’s go, kids.”
Clutching Blossom Bunny, Kimber immediately takes hold of my right hand.
Gunner, still pouting from his sister’s put-down, hesitates. He says, “She takes that stupid bunny everywhere. Papa and I call it My Bunny because if anyone touches it she yells, My bunny!”
“Not stupid,” Kimber says.
I ignore Gunner’s attitude and grab his hand. “Will you show me where the post office is?”
“I can!” Kimber crows.
Gunner tugs me through the door. “She asked me to show her.”
Crisis averted, we head for the post office.
Chapter Nineteen
Knowing she’d love to dart ahead of her brother, I keep a tight grip on Kimber’s hand. Gunner leads us down the path. When he glances over his shoulder, his bright blue eyes sparkle with glee, thinking he has bested his sister.
Gunner points at a low-slung cabin with a wide porch. “Mail lady lives here.”
I want to say, Really? She lives at the post office? I don’t utter the words, because nothing is normal about this place. Perhaps she has a cot nestled between stacks of incoming mail.
Gunner takes my free hand and hauls me through the door. A horizontal interior wall divides the cabin in half. Centered in the middle of the wall is an open window. A woman with iron gray hair stands behind the window. Her eyes are black and only half visible due to wrinkled drooping lids. She doesn’t look happy to see us.
Gunner points at the woman and announces, “Agnes. She’s the mail lady.”
I greet her warmly. She gives me a brief nod and turns away. She rummages through a pile of plastic grocery bags, looking for Gunderson mail. This is not a high tech operation. Silently, she hands two bags bulging with mail to Kimber and Gunner.
“Wow, you guys get a lot of mail,” I say.
Kimber says, “That’s because it’s mail day.”
“So, it doesn’t come every day?”
“Nope,” Gunner says. “Just on mail day.”
The twins each take a bag and head for the door. I thank the taciturn Agnes. She gives me a sniff of disapproval and turns away.
After exiting the cabin, I say, “I don’t think Agnes likes me.”
Kimber chirps, “She doesn’t like anybody. Papa says some people are born unhappy.”
She grins up at me, swinging the bag of mail back and forth as we head back to their cabin. She still clings to my hand like it’s a lifeline and she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. Halfway down the path, she swings the bag a little too vigorously and the contents spill out over the pine needle-covered ground.
“Oops,” she says.
Gunner turns and glares at his sister. “You’re supposed to be careful with the mail.”
Kimber retorts, “Shit happens.”
Gunner sets his bag of mail down and gives her a disapproving scowl. “That’s a man word. It’s not for females.”
Kimber looks at me for help.
I channel my inner adult. “Actually, you’re both too young to be swearing.”
A sudden gust of wind swirls through the trees, scattering the envelopes. This puts an end to the bickering as we scamper after the errant mail, most of which is addressed to Kimber and Gunner. Bank statements. Mail from the U.S. Treasury Department. Others with only a post office box as a return address. Even stranger, most of the envelopes have been slit open, leaving me with a multitude of questions. Why would five-year-old twins receive this volume and type of mail? Why have they been opened? Is mail fraud on of New Dawn’s specialties? A chill sweeps over me.
I hold out the bag as the kids fill it. “You guys must be important to get this much mail.”
Gunner gives me a measured look. “Papa says we’re special.”
“I agree with your papa.”
Back at the cabin, Jake meets us at the door, takes the mail and stows it in a closet.
“You ready?” He asks me.
I nod.
He unlocks the gun safe and removes the Glock.
Gunner says, “Can we go, Papa?”
“Not this time. Miss Anna wants you two in school.”
Gunner grumbles under his breath. Kimber’s face lights up. She grabs Gunner’s hand. “Come on, silly boy. I’ll help you with your letters.”
She starts to tug him out the door, but stops suddenly and turns. “Will you be here when we get back?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie.”
She runs to me and holds up her arms for a hug. “See ya,” she says.
“Not if I see you first.”
She giggles. “Silly!”
The twins disappear down the trail and I’m alone with Jake.
Jake is quiet as we walk to the range. No big surprise. I decide to kick start the conversation. “Kendra said you’re not the twins’ father.”
“I’m not their biological father.”
I stay silent as we continue walking down the trail. Finally, he takes hold of my arm and stops. I turn to face him.
His expression is grim. “Their mother Cassie turned up here when the kids were two. All three of ’em were dirty. Half-starved. She was strung out on drugs. Hitchcock brought them to my place, told me to take them in, so I did. Cassie had no idea who fathered the twins. When she couldn’t get her drugs here, she took off. Read in the paper later, she died from an overdose. I’ve taken care of them ever since. I do the best I can.”
His words are so heartfelt, I blink back tears. “You’re the only papa they’ve ever known. They love you.”
He nods and propels me forward. I assume, correctly, he’s through talking.
We arrive at the range. I wave at Riley who’s blasting away with a lethal-looking long gun. Hitchcock is there too, watching.
Jake shows me the correct shooting stance and supplies me with protective earmuffs. He stands behind me, guiding my shooting hand. “You’re gonna feel a little recoil, a kick, so brace yourself.”
I take careful aim at the paper target and pull the trigger. Even though I’m braced, the recoil takes me by surprise and I stumble backward. Jake steadies me. I peer at the unblemished target.
Like Kimber, I say, “Oops.”
Jake chuckles. “You’ll get better.”
Surprisingly, I do. Jake wraps both arms around me to help absorb the recoil. I actually hit the target a few times.
We take a short break and Hitchcock, apparently bored to tears, wanders away. Another guy takes his place, but is absorbed in his cell phone.
Jake glances at the guy and then leans close and lifts the muff on my left ear. Under the guise of giving me shooting directions, he whispers, “I need to talk to you. I’ll call your cell tomorrow. Just shake your head yes or no.”
I nod once and take careful aim. Holy shit! I hit the bull’s-eye.
When Riley and I get back to the Rockin’ R, Rick emerges from the barn pushing a wheelbarrow full of straw and horse poop. No sign of Ziggy.
Rick says, “Your girl’s not here. Some kid with green hair came tearing down the driveway in a piece-of-shit car. She jumped in and they took off.”
“Aw, crap on a cracker.” I groan. “Now I have to go find her.”
Riley says, “I’ll go with you.”
I try to talk him out of it but he insists. I fire up Buttercup and Riley follows me to Benny’s apartment complex. We see his car and climb the stairs to 2D. I’m glad Riley is with me. Who knows what kind of a mess Ziggy is in? As before, the drapes are tightly drawn and the music is blasting, bass notes rattling the windows.
I double up
my fist and pound on the door. “Open up, Benny. If you don’t, I’m calling Paco. You remember Paco, right? The big Mexican guy who wanted to kick your ass?”
The door opens a crack, just enough for Benny’s face to appear. “She ain’t here.”
I’m close enough to peer into his soul and look for the flash that indicates a lie. Hard to believe, but he’s telling the truth.
Riley braces one hand against the doorjamb. “Where is she?”
“She was pissed off, man. She hung out here for a while and then asked me to drop her at Mojo’s on Franklin.”
Riley’s expression hardens. “Let’s go get her.”
“This isn’t your problem, Riley,” I say.
“Don’t argue. I’m making it my problem. Leave your car here. We’ll take my truck.”
Mojo’s is a coffee place not far from Nick’s. Ziggy is not inside. We cruise slowly down Franklin and spot her walking down the sidewalk. Her hands are thrust into her pockets, hood pulled up, partially obscuring her face.
Riley pulls up beside her, zips the window down and barks, “Get in.”
Ziggy’s head swivels toward us. Her eyes widen in surprise when she spots Riley. She saves her surly look for yours truly. “I’d rather walk,” she says.
“Fine,” Riley says. “We’ll drive slow and tail you all the way to Nick’s. How does that sound?”
I stifle the laughter bubbling up from my chest. This is Riley acting all grown-up. This is Riley dealing with a semi-delinquent teenage girl. Who knew?
Ziggy gives us a sidelong glance. Her cheeks are fiery red, probably from embarrassment. Riley is the reason she wanted to take the job at the ranch, and now he’s itching for a confrontation. She stops and looks directly into my eyes. Confusion blooms in her soul. I feel a bit sorry for her.
After a long moment, she snaps, “Oh, all right. I’ll get in.”
She climbs in next to me. Riley does a quick U-turn.
“Where are we going?” Ziggy asks.
“I’m taking Mel to her car and then, we’re going back to the ranch. We’ve got stalls to clean and horses to feed. You said you wanted the job, but ran away like a spoiled brat. If you’re not willing to work hard, tell me now and I’ll take you home. Otherwise, we’ll give it another shot.”
Hope and Honor Page 10