by Jenna Kernan
“You told us about the wharf,” Rylee said, reminding her.
“Yes.” Her peaceful smile returned.
“Why?”
Della gave a chuckle as if the question were silly. “Well, because your friend asked me, child. ‘Are there any other buildings on the compound?’ Those were her exact words. I merely answered her question.”
“Because she asked you?” asked Rylee.
Della nodded, seemingly pleased that Rylee now understood.
“What will you do now, Della?” he asked.
“Well, that’s a good question. I’m not sure if my older brother is still with us. Perhaps I’ll start there. He used to live in Altamont. I remember his address. Also, I’ve been considering becoming a nun.” She swept the veil back up over her hair, wrapping it expertly to cover her head.
Right back into a structured religious community, Axel realized.
“You don’t have to, Della. I can take care of you,” said Axel.
“Now you sound like my brother. And I don’t need taking care of just yet. And though you were always the sweetest boy,” she said, “and I’m proud to be your mother, I never really knew how to be one, or a wife. I’m not sure how to explain it, except that I loved Jack, in my way, but I was not in love with him. I don’t connect to people in that way. I’m afraid he stayed, hoping I’d change my mind.”
Had his father died of a broken heart? Twice broken, he realized. First, at the loss of his wife and child and then, by Della’s rejection.
“And he stayed for you, of course.” Della beamed at him, her small hands clasped as if in prayer. “He was proud of you. Do you remember carrying his tools? You were his little helper.”
Della patted him on the cheek. “I’ll write you when I’m settled, shall I?”
“Della, you don’t need to join an order,” said Rylee. “Our social workers explained that.”
“But I will. Perhaps one with animals. That would be nice. I must be somewhere safe for the Rising. Have to be ready.” She was now moving back toward the dining hall. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. He followed, trailing her back to the entrance. Della paused at the door handle, only because it was metal and she didn’t like metal. He remembered that about her, as well.
Rylee opened the door and the trooper within took charge of Della. She never even said goodbye.
The door clicked shut. “I’m sorry, Axel. She’s troubled.”
He nodded, his teeth tight together and the muscles at his jaw working hard.
“One of our people told me that she’s on the spectrum.”
It explained everything and nothing. He looked to the empty place where his mother had been. “Yes. I see.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rylee managed to catch a few hours’ sleep and was back at work before nine the next day. They finished up at the compound at noon. Ohr had one final interview with Axel in his office in Kinsley. When Rylee arrived, they were already in the conference room. When she tried to join in, Ohr told her to head back to their offices in Glens Falls.
Rylee just blinked at the order. Instead of moving out, she held the doorknob like it was her last friend and stood momentarily petrified. This was not how she had pictured their goodbye.
“I’ll finish up here,” said Ohr. “See you back at the office.”
Rylee stared at Trace, who stared mutely back, his look expectant.
“All right,” she said and closed the door.
Trace’s head bowed.
She made it outside, but her footsteps slowed. She wasn’t going like this. Instead, she waited outside in the cold for Ohr to emerge. Then she planned to see Axel alone. She had to tell him thank-you, at the very least. And tell him that she loved him? Not that it would change anything; he was staying and she was going.
Kurt Rogers emerged from the coffee shop across the street and ambled over to her.
“They still got him in there?” asked Rogers.
“Yes. Thought we might get a late lunch, but heck. It’s closer to dinner now.”
Rylee could not keep from fidgeting. She tapped her fingers and sighed. The longer Ohr kept him, the less time she’d have to say goodbye.
“My cat paces like that when she’s on the wrong side of the door from her kittens,” said Rogers.
Rylee stopped pacing.
“It’s the cold.”
Rogers leaned against the bench on the sidewalk and glanced at the entrance of the administration building in Kinsley. Dressed in a lambskin coat and wearing gloves, he looked broader and younger. She could see for a moment the stature of the sheriff he must have been.
“What are they doing?” asked Rogers.
“Final interview.”
Rogers looked back at the agent in the sedan waiting to drive Ohr back to Glens Falls. Rylee’s vehicle was parked just behind that one. In a little while, she’d be in that car, driving away. She should be so happy and proud. Instead, she wanted to scream.
The thought made her heart ache. But what was the choice? He was an elected official here and she’d already been told she was being promoted. New York City, if she wanted, or DC.
Soon, she’d have her choice of postings. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
Rogers ambled over to the agent in the vehicle, who lowered the window so they could speak.
Ohr finally emerged from the outer doors, followed by Sheriff Trace.
“You still here?” asked Ohr.
She nodded and turned her attention to Trace, painfully aware of their audience. Her driver had left the vehicle and both she and Rogers watched them. Ohr looked from her to Trace, waiting.
* * *
“HELLO, SHERIFF,” RYLEE SAID.
His hesitant smile faded. “Agent Hockings,” he said, formally. “Thought maybe you left. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to thank you for rescuing me from the river.”
“You already have. And you’re welcome.”
She couldn’t read him. The tension was clear from his expression and the caution in his eyes.
“So, you got what you came here for,” he said.
Had she? It seemed something was still missing. Why couldn’t she say it to him? She glanced to Rogers and then to Ohr. Finally, she returned her attention to him. Her mouth was so dry.
“Yes, most of it.”
“It doesn’t all come out like in the movies,” he said.
Ohr interjected here. “Our people will be moving to locate and eradicate the manufacturing site. Meanwhile, CDC is creating and stockpiling a vaccine against a possible outbreak. Our diplomatic channels will advocate pursuit of sanctions against North Korea based on evidence that you found.”
“You know where they are manufacturing?” asked Axel.
“We have Hal Mondello and Wayne Trace, and both are eager to make a deal. I’m sure our investigation will turn up that information.”
She did not mention that they had not succeeded in capturing Hal Mondello’s oldest boy, Quinton, thought to have fled to Canada. That bothered Rylee, because he seemed very much in charge of the moonshining operation during her investigation.
Her supervisor turned to Rylee. “Did you tell him you’re in line for promotion?”
Rylee’s cheeks burned with what felt like shame. It was in part due to Axel’s efforts that she’d succeeded. She could not have done any of this without him and the Kowa people. Without them, she’d likely be dead.
Her supervisor continued, “You have done an above-average job here, Agent Hockings. Proved me wrong and far exceeded my expectations. You’ve more than earned that promotion.”
Rylee felt none of the pride she had anticipated. She’d spent enough time imagining this moment to know that the twisting dread that tugged at her stomach was not the jubilation she should have been experienc
ing.
“Congratulations,” said Axel, his voice flat and his expression strained.
The time had come to say goodbye. To get on her horse and ride off into the sunset. Specifically, she needed to slip into the faux leather seat of the sedan still sporting the handprints of the Mohawk tribe and point her vehicle south. Instead, she lingered.
Ohr shook Axel’s hand and swept away as if in a race-walking competition and finding herself far behind.
Trace watched her go. “Does she always walk like that?”
“Yes, except on inclines.”
“Smoking. Steals the wind,” he said.
The odor of burning tobacco clung to her clothing and hair the way the tar likely clung to her skin.
He returned his attention to Rylee, moving closer until she could smell the wood smoke that clung to his flannel and the enticing earthy musk of him.
“Where will you go with your promotion? Do you have an office in mind?”
“I was thinking I’d like a bigger posting. New York, of course, or LA, New Orleans because of the port, or Tampa because of the weather.”
None of those included the frozen landscape that now surrounded them. And this was only the preview of what winter held in store, when chunks of ice the size of barges would hamper maritime traffic.
“Tampa seems nice,” he said with no enthusiasm.
Snowflakes continued to drift down from the blue sky as if confused as to where they had come from and where they belonged. The grass between the sidewalk and curb had become stiff and crunched with each of her shifting steps. But the snow stuck only to the automobiles and the hard cold blacktop of the road surfaces.
Would he ask her to stay? She tilted her chin to look up into his face, blinking at the snowflakes that landed in her eyes.
“No reason to stay here,” he said.
She met his stare. “Would you ever leave?”
Had she really said that aloud? The door of possibilities cracked open a bit.
His brows lifted, disappearing into the wool lip of his ski hat.
“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” he said.
“And I’ve lived everywhere else.” She tried for a laugh, failed and cleared her throat. “Funny that trying to get this promotion, and the last one, kept me on the move. When what I said I’ve wanted was to settle in one place.”
“Your job keeps you mobile.”
“I might as well be in the army...moving like a migrating bird.”
“Maybe the next posting will be a more permanent one.”
Rylee felt the tears misting her eyes and choking her throat. Her nose began to run and she wiped it with her leather glove.
“This is all wrong,” she said.
“I know. Crazy, right?”
When she imagined a man making a commitment to her, it wasn’t in the form of question. As if he were wondering if she could extend her visit for a day or two.
“You can’t stay. Can you?” he asked.
He didn’t confess his true feelings or express his devotion. His expression looked pained and she wondered if perhaps he’d be happy to see her go and be done with this... Whatever it was they had shared.
They had known each other only a little over a week. It wasn’t long enough to fall in love. Was it? This had to be the stress of the case and the danger. Just an encounter.
She scowled. “I should go.”
His nod was exaggerated. “Yes, right.”
It was looking more and more as if the emotions that were kicking her like a mule were distinctly one-sided.
“Thank you, Sheriff, for all you’ve done to help me with this case.” She extended her gloved hand.
He stared down at it, frowning like a kid who was expecting something specific on Christmas morning and instead got socks.
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” The handshake was mechanical.
She smiled. “I hope you’ll call us if you see anything of which we should be aware.”
He held her hand motionless, as if reluctant to let go. Finally, he dropped his hand to his side and then shoved it into his pocket. She could see the balled fist there.
Rylee walked on brittle legs to the driver’s side door, gripping the keys as if they were the neck of a snake. She managed to wait until she left the town of Kinsley before the tears began to roll down her cheeks. The sobs came next.
* * *
KURT ROGERS CAME to stand beside Axel as the caravan of sedans pulled out like a motorcade.
“You should go after her,” said Rogers.
“Nothing for her here, Kurt.”
“Just you, I guess.” He rested a hand on Axel’s shoulder and squeezed. “You tell her you love her?”
He shook his head, knowing that words were just impossible.
“Never took you for a fool, son. Until now, that is.”
“Maybe I ought to follow her.”
“Sure. Plenty of nice places to go. You two could make a home anywhere.” His hand slipped away and he faced the river. “Still, this place is awful pretty, with the snow falling like glitter in the sunlight.” He studied the fast-flowing, wide river. “Never get tired of that view. All that water rolling toward the sea and here we sit on this shore, letting it pass by. That’s the job, I guess, watching over the folks up here on this side of the river. But you can watch over folks anyplace, Axel. Doesn’t need to be here. Follow her and you two can decide where to settle later.”
“The town needs me,” he said.
“Sure. But what I’m wondering is what you need. If it’s a woman, all well and good. If it’s that woman, you best go after her.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rogers was right again. Axel was letting her get away. He stood in the road, the flurries bringing a dusting of snow. This was his county. He’d been elected to serve as sheriff, and he’d done his job. But he’d stayed to watch over the congregation and stand between the madman at their head and the flock he exploited.
But now they were gone. The women who had raised him had spread out among social services, returning to families or making a lateral move into the arms of another commune. His mother had said her goodbyes and Axel now believed that she had done all she was able to for him. His mother was smart but that part of her that allowed her to connect with people was simply absent. He didn’t blame her, but it made him worry. What if he weren’t capable of being the kind of parent he had missed? What if he were too damaged by his upbringing?
“What’s holding you back, son?” asked Rogers. “Your father is gone. Taken into federal custody, and with all the charges, the only time you’ll see him again is on visiting days.”
“I won’t be visiting. He’s not my father.”
Rogers lifted his thick white eyebrows. Axel told him the tale.
“You going to change your name? Make it Axel Pritcher?”
“It didn’t occur to me.”
“Might make a fresh start.”
“Maybe. As to Father Wayne, I’ll lay odds that he finds his own following in federal prison, but he can’t lure vulnerable folks out here. The man was a regular pied piper.”
“That’s true. But he’s gone. That means you can go, too.”
Axel turned to look at the old lawman. “You knew that’s why I came back?”
“Suspected, is all.”
“I still have two years left on my term.”
“If you’re hanging up your star, I’m not too old to step in until they can do a special election. But try to talk her into coming on back here, if you can.”
“Why?”
“Nice place to raise a family. Make me a grandfather, of sorts.”
Axel blanched. “I don’t even know if she wants a family. And I’m sure I don’t know how to be a father.”
“The heck you don’t. I taught you al
l you need. Good sense of humor, patience and love. It’s not hard, boy. Not as hard as telling the woman you love that you can’t live without her. Now that is a job only for the brave at heart.”
Axel nodded, glancing back at the empty road.
“Your military record says you are a brave man. Guess we’ll find out if that’s so. Get going or you won’t catch her until she leaves the county.”
* * *
THE FLURRIES HAD changed to a light snow that required intermittent wiper blade action. Rylee peered out through the windshield at the precipitation that made visibility difficult. Beyond her windshield, the world looked cold and the road lonely. Time to think about the case and not about Axel. She swallowed the lump of regret, but it stayed wedged like a large cough drop accidentally swallowed.
All the way out of Onutake County, she fought the urge to turn her car around and go back to him. Tell him that she wanted... What? To live at the edge of a northern wasteland? She wanted a home and she wanted Axel. She wanted to stop moving all over the world, but she also wanted a career. How did she make this work? What compromises would she need and which of her objectives would be sacrificed to get the other? It was seldom in life that you reached a point where you could so clearly see two paths.
When she decided not to enlist, she had known it was one such juncture. When she had finished college and joined DHS, she had seen her path and taken charge. But how many of those choices were made not to please herself but to make her father proud?
All of them, she realized. Every one. And if he was proud, he had certainly never told her. Not even when she called him to report that her investigation had led to the arrest of the prime suspect. She could share little else, as the investigation and details were both classified, but his reaction had been typically underwhelming.
“Just part of the job, isn’t it?” he had asked her during the brief phone conversation.
Risking her life, getting shot at, diving into a frozen river, just part of the job? It was. But even her supervisors recognized she had gone above and beyond, offered congratulations. They were also putting in for a promotion on her behalf, showing with actions how valuable they considered her service.