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River of Bones

Page 22

by Dan Padavona


  It was almost six when Thomas pulled his truck beside the curb in Poplar Hill Estates. He’d already phoned Aguilar to tell her he’d be late.

  “Take as much time as you need, Sheriff,” she’d said as he navigated the sleepy village roads. “You should be with your family today.”

  “Thank you, Aguilar. I’ll call you when it’s over.”

  Morning birdsong greeted him as he climbed down from the cab. The morning chill held firm, the fog following him from the lake to the mansion district. He gave the house one look, remembering the first time the training wheels came off his bicycle, the skinned knees, neighborhood friends who kept him grounded when things at home weren’t so good. Once, he was young and foolish enough to believe life was forever, that there would always be a tomorrow to repair what lay broken.

  Sadness coiled in his throat.

  In his heart, he knew this was goodbye.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Saturday, October 2nd

  10:10 a.m.

  Fall came early to Wolf Lake that year. It rode an Alberta wind and frosted the grass on chilly mornings, painted fiery reds and yellows through the trees, and wilted flowers. The autumn wind rattled the windows on stormy nights, hunted the vacant alleyways in Harmon, and pushed leaves along the village sidewalks until tiny mountains pressed against doorways. Days remained mild, but nights reminded everyone winter was but a breath away.

  The Times ran a national story on the Alec Samson case. The boy had a broken employment record after high school, including brief stints at fast-food restaurants and one office temp job for a law firm. His employment record concluded four years ago, and there was no evidence he ever left Wolf Lake and moved to Alaska. His parents were heavy drinkers. Two neighbors told The Times the mother and father beat Alec as a child. He’d formed an inseparable bond with his sister, Dawn, who suffered abuse at home and in school. She was Alec’s lifeline, his reason for living. When she committed suicide, something broke inside Alec and couldn’t be repaired.

  Thomas closed the article and scrubbed a hand down his face. There was too much pain and injustice in the world.

  Six weeks had passed since his father’s death. The loss remained surreal. For thirty-two years, he’d barely known Mason Shepherd, despite growing up under the same roof. How ironic they’d formed a bond days before Mason’s body surrendered to cancer. His father had known his time on earth was short. That’s why he’d reached out to his son, affirming his love and confidence for the first time in Thomas’s life.

  Outside the window, the sun painted an intricate pattern of yellows and oranges as it filtered through the trees. Enough leaves covered the ground to justify raking, and more would fall over the coming week. Scout moved down the concrete pathway in her wheelchair, while Naomi harvested what little remained from her backyard garden. A light shone inside the guest house, and Thomas spied two silhouettes inside. Raven was visiting her brother.

  Thomas pushed the chair away from his desk. Jack lay at his feet, panting and grinning. The big dog’s eyes kept wandering to the tennis ball in the corner.

  “Okay, you convinced me,” Thomas said, grabbing the ball.

  Jack followed excitedly at his feet, almost slipping on the stairs. Once they reached the lower landing, the dog bounded for the deck door and swung his head back and forth, watching Naomi and her daughter. Thomas slid the door open, and Jack took off running. Then Scout was laughing as the dog set his massive paws on her lap and licked her face. Naomi waved to Thomas, who ordered Jack to get down before tossing the tennis ball across the spacious backyard.

  While Jack retrieved the ball, Thomas shuffled to the garden. Naomi clutched an armful of squash.

  “Good thing you picked them before the next frost. Let me help you.”

  She issued a relieved sigh and handed him half the harvest. They carried the squash inside the house and set the bounty on the counter. There was a sign on the wall that read, What the, with a fork beneath the words. Sauce simmered on the stove. The kitchen smelled like home.

  On their way outside, Naomi said, “The sun feels nice. But it will be an early winter this year.”

  “We’re overdue for a stormy winter,” Thomas agreed. “It’s hard to believe the lake will be a sheet of ice in a few months.”

  Jack brought the ball to Scout, who hurled the tennis ball toward the guest house with a giggle. The dog raced after the ball and woofed, tail wagging. Naomi’s gaze traveled to Thomas’s yard. She wiped her hands on her shirt.

  “You have a visitor.”

  Thomas swung around, expecting Darren or one of his deputies. He caught his breath when he saw Chelsey standing beside the deck with a potted plant under her arm. Fiery streaks of sunlight mingled in her dark, shoulder-length hair. The wind tossed her wavy locks around. There was something in the way the light caught Chelsey’s face that stopped his heart. Healthier than she’d appeared in months, Chelsey glanced uncertainly around the yard until her eyes settled on him.

  “I’ll call you later,” Thomas said. “Are we still having dinner?”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Naomi said, setting a hand on his arm. “We’ll save you a plate. Go to her before you lose your nerve.”

  He felt naked after Naomi joined Scout. The wind shoved him around, prodded him to move his feet before he rooted himself to the ground. Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, he crossed the yard.

  “Chelsey, I didn’t expect you.”

  “I come bearing gifts,” she said, handing over the plant. “It’s not much, but I’m told they’re quite beautiful once they mature.”

  “That was kind of you. I have just the place for it. Would you like to come inside and get out of the wind?”

  She bit her lip. He was certain she’d decline, and that would be the last he’d see of her for weeks.

  “I’d like that.”

  His mind raced as he walked her into the dining room. She hadn’t set foot in his house since the night Jeremy Hyde tried to murder them.

  “May I get you something to eat or drink? Maybe a—”

  “Thomas, I’m sorry.”

  He leaned against the table.

  “For what?”

  “For being a fool. I should have been thrilled when you moved back to Wolf Lake. Instead, I panicked.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for her to do the same. She ran a hand through her hair.

  “I wasn’t fair with you, Thomas. You always had the best intentions, and I was too stubborn to admit I was scared.”

  “Why? What were you afraid of?”

  She looked at the ceiling and exhaled.

  “Seeing you again reminded me of my depression. And that’s not fair, because you had nothing to do with my sickness. I couldn’t bear another bout. Ironically, pushing you away was the reason my depression returned.”

  He swallowed. Until now, he’d only suspected Chelsey suffered from depression. Hearing her admit it was a dagger through his stomach.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you. I trust you’re getting help.”

  She nodded.

  “My doctor started me on an antidepressant and an anti-anxiety medication. And I see a therapist three times a week.”

  “How’s that going?”

  A pensive look came over her face. It morphed into a smile.

  “It’s working.”

  “I’ve spoken to a therapist since April. If you ever want to talk, my door is always open.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  He hadn’t expected that response. Thomas cleared his throat.

  “Thank you for the sympathy cards. My mother was especially pleased you wrote.”

  “I should have been there for you. Losing your father…it isn’t right you went through that alone.”

  “It was for the best. He’s not suffering, and my mother can heal.”

  “What about you, Thomas? Are you healing?”

  His eyes moved to the yard where Raven and LeVar
joined Naomi, Scout, and Darren, who’d arrived to take Raven to lunch. Thomas smiled.

  “I am. It’s good to have loved ones so close.”

  She reached across the table and took his hands in hers.

  “I’ve waited too long, and I understand if you’re uncomfortable having me around. I’ve done little to inspire confidence. But I’d like to be part of your life, Thomas, if you’d allow it.”

  A sob wracked his chest.

  “Yes, I’d like that. Very much.”

  A tear crawled down her cheek. She wiped it away and laughed.

  “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? Both of us in therapy and figuring out how to make it to the next day.”

  “It’s easier when you have a friend who understands.”

  “So how do we do this? I’m not sure where to start.”

  Thomas leaned back in his chair and slid the door open.

  “Well, we can’t move forward until you meet Jack.”

  The dog rushed into the dining room as if summoned, his tongue hanging out as he glanced between Thomas and Chelsey.

  “Jack, this is my good friend, Chelsey. Chelsey, Jack.”

  The dog barked and licked Chelsey’s hand. She laughed and pet Jack’s head.

  “I’m already in love. He’s perfect.”

  “He sure seems to like you.”

  Thomas raised his head as Darren led Raven and LeVar inside.

  “Are we interrupting?” Darren asked, cocking an eyebrow when he noticed Chelsey.

  “Not at all.” Thomas smiled. A completeness he hadn’t experienced in over a decade settled over him. “It’s great to have the family together again.”

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  Copyright Information

  Published by Dan Padavona

  Visit my website at www.danpadavona.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Dan Padavona

  Artwork copyright © 2021 by Dan Padavona

  Cover Design by Caroline Teagle Johnson

  All Rights Reserved

  Although some of the locations in this book are actual places, the characters and setting are wholly of the author's imagination. Any resemblance between the people in this book and people in the real world is purely coincidental and unintended.

  About the Author

  Dan Padavona is the author of the The Darkwater Cove series, The Scarlett Bell thriller series, Severity, The Dark Vanishings series, Camp Slasher, Quilt, Crawlspace, The Face of Midnight, Storberry, Shadow Witch, and the horror anthology, The Island. He lives in upstate New York with his beautiful wife, Terri, and their children, Joe, and Julia. Dan is a meteorologist with NOAA’s National Weather Service. Besides writing, he enjoys visiting amusement parks, beach vacations, Renaissance fairs, gardening, playing with the family dogs, and eating too much ice cream.

  Visit Dan at: www.danpadavona.com

 

 

 


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