“Thank you, Deputy,” Harris said crisply.
“Back there.”
They left me in the holding cell staring at the rusty bars. I sat on the cot and wrapped the scratchy pea-green blanket around my shoulders.
Please don’t leave me here, Lord. This can’t be the end.
My mind wandered, and I ignored the din of office work, the radio squawks, and hushed conversations. The storm railing at the sheriff’s station’s walls was the only sound that mattered. Everything, Randy’s death, the attack in my room, the storm and Jake, all of it hit me and I felt suddenly exhausted. Out of fight, I sat trembling on the bed, my arms around my legs as tears dropped onto my dirty jeans.
Everything was out of control, nothing seemed to make sense.
I stifled a sob, watching the hallway. This was my fault. I knew that. I remembered the image of a new believer from earlier when I thought of myself as a construction zone, as a broken and dysfunctional mess, and my heart ached, crushing the breath from my lips.
I cried silently and prayed as the thunder roared and rattled the tiny building. Fear and anger, sadness and despair roiled in my chest. Randy, Jake, everything I held dear slipped further and further away, destroyed in a fury of fire and wind.
In the midst of my despair, I heard my name called. Soft and strong. I heard it so close, so clear…
Get up, Riley.
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. The noise and movement of my tortured thoughts were suddenly gone. I sat up on the tiny holding cell’s cot, panting.
Toughie’s voice and Sheila’s echoed down the hall and I looked around, rubbing my eyes. The heaviness of sleep still pulling at my arms. I stood up, paced the cell. I grasped the bars with both hands, my forehead resting between two cold columns. Frustration and fear still filled me. Alone, I felt so alone.
I’m so sorry for not trusting you, Lord. For trying to go my own way again, for hiding Randy’s things and all the other mistakes I’ve made. I was so sure I knew what I was doing, so arrogant that I was smarter than everyone else, I didn’t listen. I didn’t listen to your warnings. Please, Lord. I feel so alone…so lost. Please don’t leave me to wander out here in this storm…
Desperation flooded over me and I cried against the rusty bars.
I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough, Lord. I’m not…
Hands, warm and strong, covered mine, and I heard Jake’s voice, his quiet prayer merging with my own words.
He whispered words of strength and faith to me, words of thanks.
I took in a ragged breath, my eyes opening to see this wonderful man, his head against the bars looking back at me.
“You’re not alone, Riley,” he murmured. “Not anymore.”
“Jake,” I searched his face, tears blurring his features. “I’m so sorry…for everything. For coming back and ruining your life…for all the trouble—”
“Hush, ma cher,” he murmured. Reaching in through the bars to smooth my hair behind my ear, he smiled. “I’m not sorry you came back. I’m not sorry at all.”
I tried to smile, to be brave, and noticed he was wet and muddy, his eyes tired. He stroked my cheek with his fingers, and I stopped his hand with mine, worried.
I strained to look down the hall. “Where is everybody?”
“Rick took Sheila home to be with her family. Dan’s still out, too. We’re trying to keep people calm. Get them safe.”
“Did something happen?”
“Erin shifted, the hurricane will hit soon.” Tension played across his features and my heart ramped up.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“We’re looking at less than twelve hours. Weather service is predicting we’ll be hard hit.”
I gulped audibly. “How…what time is it?” I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the wall clock over Jake’s desk. “It’s been four hours? I’ve been here for that long?”
“It’s almost four in the afternoon.”
The lights overhead flickered and buzzed on again.
I gasped and grabbed at his hands. “Am I going to be left here in this cell during the hurricane?”
Jake held my gaze, concern pooling behind his handsome features. “Easy, Riley, we’ll be fine.”
I strained against the bars. “Where’s Agent Harris?”
Jake leaned away, looked down the hall. “He and the other guy are trying to get hold of New Orleans via the radio in my squad car. I can’t talk for long, but I wanted to make sure you were OK.”
I whispered, my lip trembling. “They won’t tell me what’s going on, Jake. I asked the whole ride over and neither of them said anything.”
“Someone tipped them off to the evidence you, ‘secretly borrowed’ from Randy’s room. They showed up at Verona’s and took your stuff. She called me, madder than a cat in a bathtub. Said they questioned her about audio files and a sketchbook…Randy’s letter.”
I sagged against the bars. “I don’t have anything anymore, that guy…” I gritted my teeth. “That guy took them when he tried to kill me.”
“I know.” His brow furrowed with frustration. “They can’t keep you on an unsubstantiated tip.”
“If they know they have nothing, then why keep me locked up?”
“Because you made the FBI look like idiots, Riley.” Jake whispered. “They cleared that scene and you waltz in and find evidence they overlooked in what appears to be a domestic terrorism case? The fact that you kept those things hidden only makes you look guilty of being a part of what Randy did.”
“Yeah, but if they served a warrant and didn’t get anything, then they have to either show cause to keep me, or let me go.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“My father is a lawyer, remember?”
Jake nodded down the hall. “Well, they look worried. They’re waiting to find out what to do, but this storm…”
“Jake, who told them I had those things?” I caught his gaze. “Is it Susan…or someone else?”
“I don’t know, Riley,” Jake said softly. “I know you think it was Citrine, but I can’t—”
“Of course you can’t.” I threw my hands up. “I know that you two have a history, that you two go way back but it seems pretty obvious to me what’s going on here.”
“You can’t be sure, Riley.”
“Who had access to all the information Park Davis wrote about in his articles? Who knew where I was, that I was at Dauby’s? Who could have…” I remembered my broken necklace and opened laptop after my shower. “Who could rifle through my things in my room without arousing suspicion, Jake?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Something occurred to me, something that had been tugging at my mind since visiting the plant. “Randy was involved with some sort of safety commission before he left college.”
“I don’t understand.”
I bounced on the balls of my feet, the thoughts fitting together like puzzle pieces in my mind. “Randy’s involvement with safety would include equipment. He was an engineer.”
“Do you think this has something to do with Susan’s father? His accident at the plant?”
I nodded, excitement welling in my belly. “I wondered about that when her mother mentioned it, but I just can’t figure out how everything is connected…”
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll find this Susan, Riley, I promise.”
“Jake—” I started, but the lights flickered off. I stood there holding my breath hoping the tiny sheriff’s station could withstand hurricane force winds. “Jake?” I cried, and heard the panic in my own voice.
“I’m here, Riley.” I felt his hands cover mine again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Howling outside sent a shudder over me, and I gripped Jake’s hand. The wind whirled through the great oaks and along the buildings, the hollow moan more frightening than the dark that crowded around me. Trying to calm down, to breathe through the terror clawing at my mind, I squeezed my eyes shut, praying d
esperately.
I don’t want to die here. Not in the dark, not it a cell.
A jagged slash of bright white tore across the front window, an electric whoosh that set my hair on end and blinded me.
“Get down, Riley!” Jake yelled and he shoved my shoulders, sending me flying backwards.
I screamed, flailing in the dark, falling against the cot and banging my head. Overhead, a great ripping sound, like the cracking of a huge stone, raked over us, and then there was cold rain and chunks of the ceiling falling down on me. I scrambled backwards, and flattened against the sink now twisted away from the buckled wall. Thunder shook me, rattled my teeth and took my breath as it roared. I trembled in the dark, too scared to cry, too terrified to move.
“Riley,” Jake yelled, panic in his voice. “Riley, where are you?”
I stared up at where the ceiling used to be, to the smoldering tree trunk and ruined roof, the wind whipping dirt and leaves at my face. Another white vein sizzled across the dark purple sky, and I felt the crackling static whoosh over me. I held my breath, waiting for searing pain, sure that the lightning would get me this time, but an explosion to my right rocked me to my feet.
I stood in the ruined cell, exposed to the outside over a fallen wall, and blinked, dumbfounded at the sparking transformer down the street.
The loose wires snaked, spitting fire across the mottled sky.
A figure standing under the sparks and I shook my head, sure it was an illusion; the fire and shadows playing tricks on my too-tired eyes.
Jake pulled me close.
Rain poured over us as he wrapped his arms around me, his face in my neck, breath ragged. He held me tight, wouldn’t let me go.
“I thought…” He stumbled over the words, a relieved laugh escaping his tense features.
I looked at him wide-eyed and breathless. “That’s not going to happen again…right?”
29
We gathered in the front of the station. Toughie, Agent Harris and Agent Stubecky walked over to us. The roof, still intact, shielded us from most of the wind and rain, but none of the noise.
“We can’t stay here,” Jake said over the wind. He wrestled his jacket onto me as he spoke. “This place is coming down.”
“We can head to the school.” Toughie walked up behind us. “It’s on higher ground and the gym is made of concrete blocks. It’s as good a place as any, right now.”
Jake stepped forward, his hand snaking the radio on the counter. “We head to the school in separate cars. See if there’s anyone left out there. Grab anyone you see and get them to the gym. Hurricane Erin’s on her way.”
Harris shook his head and pointed out the window. “The tree took out our SUV.”
“You go with Toughie, then,” Jake said “I’ll take Riley and…”
“Uh, she can’t go with you,” Agent Stubecky said and reached for me. “You’re not leaving here with—”
Jake stepped in front of me, got in the agent’s face. “Try to stop me.” The edge to his voice was evident even over the storm.
Toughie put his hands up. “Whoa there, Agent Stubecky, just hang on. We’re all ending up at the same place now. Where’s she going to go?”
Agent Harris put his hand on Stubecky’s. “Let them go, Stubs.”
The radio in Jake’s hand burped and a garbled message broke through the tension. He raised it to his ear, eyes still on Stubecky and pressed the talk button. “Say again?”
It was Dan, his voice tinny in the room. “I need some back up, Sheriff. There’s a brawl brewing over here at the gas station. People syphoning off of each other, and fights.”
Jake turned to Toughie. “I better get out there.”
Toughie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He nodded to me. “You need to get this one to the gym. Me, Harris, and Stubecky here, will go and help Dan. We have more guns than you two.”
Agent Harris pursed his lips, but nodded in agreement. “We can back him up.”
Jake hesitated, looked at me, and then nodded quickly. “Stay on the radio. Call if you need me.”
“We’ll be fine,” Toughie said. “We’ll meet you guys at the gym.” He and the agents ran into the storm, their hands over their heads.
Jake turned to me and forced a smile. “Let’s get going, Riley.”
He took my hand and we ran to the squad car.
Rain and thrown debris slapped against the windshield. The streets were deserted, no cars or people in the stores, or on the walkways. I heard a far off hurricane warning, too late.
“Where is everyone?”
“They’re shuttered up in their homes, or at the school,” Jake said. “Erin’s speeding through. She’s ahead of schedule.”
“Will we get caught…”
“We’ll get to the school in time,” Jake said and winked at me. “I’ll keep the lightning from chasing you again.”
I put my hand on his arm, squeezed a silent thank you.
We turned and almost hit a man standing in the middle of the road waving his arms. The Chicken Guy. Jake hit the brakes and we skidded off to the side, narrowly missing him. Lightning flashed across the sky behind him.
He looked frantic, agitated.
“John,” Jake yelled and stopped the car, getting out and herding the man into the back of the cruiser.
“Riley,” The Chicken Guy screeched and pointed to me. “Riley…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jake said, climbing back into the driver’s seat. “It’s Riley, John.”
I looked at The Chicken Guy. “John?”
“He used to teach over at LSU,” Jake explained and started the car. “A math professor.”
I never would have guessed. “What happened to him?”
“Broke down,” John said in a ragged whisper. “Broke, broken down.”
“There you go,” Jake grimaced.
We made our way down the road again, heading for the gym.
I bit my thumbnail, flinching with the thump of rain and thrown wreckage on the car windows.
Behind me in the back seat, John, wet and shivering, hummed to himself.
I wrinkled my nose at his odor and wondered why he’d been in the middle of the road. “What were you doing out there, John?”
He smiled and I braced myself against cringing at his ruined mouth. Judging from the state of his health, he must have cracked years ago.
“I came to warn you about the mountain man.” John said. “The mountain man is coming for you.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “The mountain man?”
“Yes, he and the bee and the bug make three!” John said in a sing-song.
“Don’t rile him up, Riley.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, though? The mountain man and the bee and the bug…what is that?” I asked.
“A. Apis,” he said, and nodded. “A. Apis is the key. The locked heart.”
“A. Apis?” My breath caught.
John nodded, pointed to his wrist and cackled. “Buzz, buzz, buzz!”
I blinked at him, shocked I hadn’t put it together sooner. “A. Apis…a bee. A bumble bee?”
“Yes, that’s the ticket.” He pointed to his nose like we were playing charades. “Ding, ding, ding.” He sat back in his seat, clapping and laughing.
“Riley,” Jake said and slowed us down. “We try not to get John agitated.”
Nodding, I bounced in my seat, excited.
“A. Apis, Jake. A. Apis is the name of the emergency contact in my brother’s file. A. Apis is the scientific name for bumble bee. He’s not being crazy – he has information!” I turned to John. “Is that why you came to see me at the library that night? Were you trying to tell me something?”
Jake leaned forward, his eyes on the road as he navigated around a downed tree. “What are you talking about?”
But my mind was cranking, pulling the information together. My brother’s symbol, the one hidden in his letter was a hand holding a bee. The girl, Susan Lockhart, raised bees and
was an entomology student. It was all connected. The mountain man…
“You said the mountain man wanted to hurt me?” I asked John and he nodded. “What mountain, John? Which one?”
“Everest,” John whispered and my blood ran cold.
“Jake, I think I know who killed Dauby. I think Everest is behind all of this.”
His head whipped towards me. “What?”
“My brother and this Susan, they were talking to each other. The postcard I found in Randy’s sketchbook, the one inviting him to the rally, was from her…” I shook my head, angry with myself. “She signed her name on the card. I just didn’t see it.”
“No, I saw the card, it wasn’t signed.”
“Yes, it was. I didn’t put it together until now but the heart and the key, that’s—”
“A locked heart,” John piped up. “You’re very good at this, Rileee! You got the letter, the milk and the light worked, yes?”
I turned to face him, my head bumping against the seat back as Jake drove over a rut in the road. “You sent the letter? The letter from Randy?”
“Thought the bad man was in his computer, his phone.” He tapped his pocket. “Gave me the letter. The old ways are best. Asked me for help…didn’t trust anyone, anymore.”
I nodded, licking my lips as I tried to grasp all the strings of information. “You said the mountain man and the bee and the bug make three. That’s Everest, Susan, and…is the bug another person, John?”
“The bug?” Jake asked. “Are you guys speaking English anymore?”
“La Roche,” John said excitedly. “Dauby La Roche…the roach.”
Snapping my fingers I pointed to John. “Dauby the third person? Dauby makes three?”
“Yes.” John nodded. “The three that were with Randy, my friend. He gave me food. He always had food to give me when I passed him.”
“Jake, Susan and Randy were working on something. Remember I told you about the MP3 player, the one that belonged to Randy?”
“Yeah, you said there was some sort of conversation recorded.”
“I think the girl Randy recorded was Susan. And we know she knew Dauby because her phone number was in his house. That’s how we tracked her down in the first place.”
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