The Rogue

by Jennifer Bernard

  Definitely worth sending her a heads up. He texted her the photo along with a message. Look carefully at the alders outside the window. Someone was out there. Gracie took this a few weeks ago. Be careful, keep your eye out for anything/one suspicious.

  She didn’t answer. Maybe she was driving. He’d drilled it into her over and over that texting and winter driving absolutely did not go together. Well, she’d get the text later. He’d done what he could.

  Gracie hugged herself jumping from one foot to the other to stay warm. “Gettin’ cold out here. Family meeting, remember?”

  “Yeah. You go ahead. I’ll be right there. I promise,” he added when she got that indignant look on her face.

  She ran inside, her footfalls softened by the blanket of snow covering the ground. He was feeling the bite of the cold too, so he hurried over to the spot where Serena usually parked her car. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—or even if he was looking for anything in particular. Maybe he just wanted to stand on the spot where her feet had last touched Rocky Peak territory.

  It was stupid, really. Just an empty space. Tire tracks in the snow, footprints already being filled in by new snow. The butt of a cigar smoldered in the snow nearby, still producing a tiny drift of cigar smoke. Had Max come out here recently?

  He didn’t see the small circular marks Max’s cane left in the snow. He hated using that cane. That was why he rarely went outside, because he hated people seeing him like that—

  Good God. He was just like his father! Just like Mad Max Rockwell, afraid to show any sign of weakness, afraid to look like an old man, too proud to admit his vulnerabilities.

  Except Griffin was even worse. At least Max had hired a nurse aide. At least he used his cane, once Gracie had located one whittled by hand from diamond willow.

  Griffin, on the other hand, still hadn’t told one single family member what he was dealing with.

  Much as he hated to admit it, Serena had a point.

  And there was a family meeting about to begin. Do the math.

  28

  Everyone else was already gathered in the solarium when Griffin made it back inside.

  Kai was propped against the wall, arms folded over his chest in a defensive posture. The fire station was his pet project, and Griffin knew he’d fight for it. As a rescue paramedic, he still saw the lodge as mostly a stopping-off point for skiers and adventurers who might need saving.

  Griffin happened to agree about the firehouse, and he sent his older brother a quick nod indicating he was on his side. Kai smiled slightly, though he still looked worried. Jake and Isabelle sat with their heads huddled together as she showed him photos—hopefully scenic shots, not gruesome medical images.

  Gracie perched on the table, her feet on a chair. He remembered that he’d behaved like an ass to her, and mouthed another “I’m sorry,” just as Max pounded his cane on the floor.

  “We’re all here, so let’s get a move on. It’s almost my nap time.”

  Nicole, sitting kitty-corner to him, looked at her watch. “You have another hour until your nap.”

  “My nap is whenever I say my nap is,” he grumbled. She threw up her hands in a “whatever you say” gesture. His future sister-in-law really knew how to handle Max. She let his saltiness roll right off her and knew how to tease him out of his grumpiness.

  “Let the record show that I tried,” Nicole told the room.

  “So noted.” Jake sat back in his chair while Izzy put her phone away. “Let it also be noted that Max is a stubborn S.O.B.”

  “That ain’t exactly breaking news,” Max muttered, to laughter from them all. He leaned back and pulled out a cigar, clamping his teeth around it.

  Nicole looked over at Griffin. “Is Serena okay?”

  “Why do you ask about her?” Max demanded. “That man is her father. She should never have come here. Never. And someone needs to get rid of that damn portrait. I don’t want it.”

  Griffin came off the wall, stunned by the hostility in his father’s voice. “Why are you talking like that, Dad? It’s not Serena’s fault.”

  Max scowled at him. “It’s still my house, isn’t it?”

  Griffin had no answer for that, and Max barreled forward with the meeting. “Kai, this is your ball game. Take it away, kid.”

  Looking uneasy, Kai glanced around at the assembled family. No one knew what to say, especially Griffin. He was reliving that confrontation in Serena’s guesthouse, her abruptness, her determination to leave. She’d dismissed his comment about Max, claimed she was the problem, not his impossible father.

  But was that really true? Did Max make her leave? Was that why she hadn’t come back inside the way he’d expected?

  Kai cleared his throat and launched into his pitch for the firehouse. “In the immortal words of our great-grandfather, Burt Rockwell the Only, we’re the last line of defense. Living on the edge of the wilderness is an honor but also a responsibility. We know how to survive out here but a lot of people don’t and those people are counting on us. But I get it that we’re running a business and trying to make up ground financially. So imagine what would happen if someone got lost out here and never got rescued. And died. That wouldn’t look very good for old Rocky Peak Lodge.”

  “The Yelp reviews would suck,” said Isabelle dryly, drawing laughs.

  “Who’s Yelp? Why should I care what someone named Yelp thinks?” Max barked.

  More laughter. Griffin didn’t smile along with the others. A bad feeling had taken hold of him. He hadn’t heard what went down between Max and Serena. By the time he’d gotten there Max had calmed to a low splutter.

  But her easel still sat in the corner of the room, along with her paints and brushes in a jumble on the utility table she’d claimed. Why would she leave so suddenly that she wouldn’t even take her paints?

  In the background, he heard someone say his name. He realized that Kai was looking at him questioningly, and everyone else was waiting for him to speak. “Uh, sorry, what?”

  “I said, I’m willing to be team leader for any rescue crew operating from here. And then I said I’m pretty sure you’d sign on, too. Unless you have other plans I haven’t heard about yet?”

  He shook his head automatically. “No.”

  “No plans? Good.” Kai nodded with satisfaction, preparing to move on.

  “No. I mean, no, I can’t be part of your crew.”

  He felt his family’s glances of surprise as if they were a physical thing skating across his body. More than uncomfortable, he felt exposed. Naked. “Sorry,” he added.

  He walked over to the painting that Serena had been working on and pulled back the drop cloth that covered it.

  The entire room went quiet. The power of her work radiated through the room like a shot of adrenaline. She’d captured “Mad Max” in all his contradictions—the sadness along with the bluster, the loneliness along with the imperiousness. Life burst out of the canvas in vivid colors, but in the background she’d added mournful mist shrouding an empty road, and stands of pine trees bending at their tips, as if to embrace and protect him.

  She’d painted him as a beloved and badass “king of the mountain.”

  Max let out a strange sound as he stared at the image of himself.

  “Wow. That’s amazing,” said Gracie, awe in her voice. “She did an incredible job.”

  “She sure did.” Serena’s spirit shone from the work, as if she was right there in the room with Griffin. Strength flooded through him. Serena was right. He was hiding. But no more.

  He turned to face his family, who were all gazing at the painting with various expressions of wonder.

  “I can’t be part of the rescue crew because I’m half deaf.”

  Everyone switched their gazes from the painting to him.

  Kai shook his head, as if he couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

  “I can’t hear out of my left ear. At all. I’m not a safe member of any kind of rescue crew that relies on climbin
g ropes and good communication.”

  “Since when?” Gracie asked softly.

  “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” Kai asked—a lot less softly.

  “Or me,” said Jake. “Shit, I noticed that you seemed distracted at the bar.”

  “I’m a doctor, you could have told me,” Isabelle added indignantly. “That’s my job.”

  “I—it was—I was—” Griffin scrubbed a hand through his hair. This was so much worse than he’d imagined—but not in the way he’d imagined. He saw no pity or weirdness. Just all this indignation because he hadn’t told them right away. “I mean, shit—”

  “Leave him alone,” barked Max. “Is this why you quit racing, kid?”

  “Yeah. It was a distraction. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because I heard something wrong. Same reason why I can’t be on a rescue crew.”

  Max adjusted his cane, then looked at the painting again. “Girl has talent,” he muttered—a complete non sequitur, as far as Griffin could tell. So much for sympathy from his father.

  “Why did it happen?” Kai demanded. “Can’t they fix it? Doctors can fix anything, right Izzy?”

  “Not right, and eighty-five percent of unilateral hearing loss is unexplained,” said Izzy. “Could be a number of things, a viral infection, autoimmune disease, physical trauma—pretty likely, given Griff’s athletic history. In most cases it’s not reversible. Not to jump in on your situation, Griff.”

  “No, that’s right. They don’t know why it happened and it’s not going to get better. All I can do is adapt. The usual hearing aids don’t help me, except maybe an implant. Maybe.”

  Nicole spoke for the first time. “What does this mean for you, Griffin? You’re having to completely rethink your life, aren’t you?”

  Under her sympathetic gaze, he gave a brief nod. Her description was completely accurate but it also made him uncomfortable. He liked being the center of attention when he was doing his thing on a bike, not like this.

  “You should stay here,” said Gracie instantly. “We’re all so loud, you won’t have any problems hearing us.”

  “Yeah, you’ll probably wish the hearing in your other ear would go too,” Isabelle quipped.

  “Agreed. If you can only hear half of what we say, you’re better off,” said Jake.

  “As long as I’m in the half that stays.” Kai raised his hand, as if bidding at an auction. “You can ditch Dad.” He jerked his head at Max. “You’ve heard all his stories anyway.”

  Max growled, his white mane of hair quivering. “What difference does it make? None of you listen to what I say anyway. Far as I’m concerned, you’re all half deaf when you choose to be.”

  Nicole was shaking her head at their barrage of jokes. “You Rockwells are all crazy. Griffin, I don’t know how you put up with them.”

  Slowly, amazed that he could, Griffin grinned at her. “The funny thing is, I should have known this is how they’d react.”

  The other funny thing was, it was exactly what he needed. A good old-fashioned ribbing from his siblings—nothing like it. His heart already felt so much lighter than when he’d walked in.

  Max, who was still staring at the painting, pounded his cane on the floor for attention.

  “Got something to say. I shouldn’t have come down on the girl so hard. She’s a good kid. Helluva painter. Can’t blame her for the past, can I? It wasn’t her who ran off with my wife.”

  Griffin was so surprised he had no answer for that.

  But Nicole did. “What’s that other word, Max, the one you recently learned how to say and that’s supposed to reduce your blood pressure?”

  Max took out his lighter and touched it to his cigar. “Sorry. I’m sorry, son. Here’s to you. You set the motocross world on fire, now it’s time for chapter two. To you, Griff.” He inhaled a puff of cigar smoke, then released it in a perfect ring.

  “To Griff,” everyone else echoed. The smoke drifted toward Griffin. He sniffed, then sniffed again as a chill shot through him.

  This cigar smoke smelled nothing like that smoke he’d noticed outside. It was richer, a higher quality, like expensive wine compared to Thunderbird.

  “Dad, do you smoke another kind of cigar sometimes?”

  “Hell no. You should know that, kid. Been smoking the same brand for thirty years.”

  He straightened up and pulled out his phone to dial Serena. Still no answer.

  How long had it been since she’d been gone?

  Jesus. All the pieces fell into place like tumblers in a lock. “I think Serena’s in trouble.”

  29

  “Who are you and what do you want?” Serena’s hands shook on the wheel. Thank God Griffin had given her those driving lessons, because otherwise she’d be all over the road. But he’d emphasized the need to avoid panic at all costs, and all those spins in the parking lot had gotten her used to dealing with the adrenaline.

  Obviously they hadn’t rehearsed a carjacking scenario, but the same principles applied. Don’t panic. Stay cool. And Griffin’s favorite—work the moment.

  “Just drive,” he growled.

  She checked all the mirrors, trying to get a good look at him. All she saw was a stocking cap with a camouflage pattern pulled way down over his face. He would be impossible to recreate in a sketch. Did he know she did police sketches?

  “Do I know you?”

  He didn’t answer, which made her think that maybe she did. Maybe he didn’t want her to recognize his voice.

  “At least tell me where you want me to drive.”

  “Like I said, just drive.”

  “Yes, but I could take the turn to Majestic Lodge, or that little road that goes to that scenic view point. Once we’re in town there’s the bypass road and the one that goes through the business district. How well do you know Rocky Peak? Are you local or just passing through?”

  It was ridiculous to ask him these things. But in her time as a bartender, she’d learned that most people were just looking for an excuse to talk. Surely this guy was no exception. If she just prodded him enough, something would break loose.

  “Okay, not interested in conversation? Fine, just one more thing. Is this personal or just a job to you? Because if it’s just a job, we really should talk. Maybe I can offer you a better deal. You seem like a smart guy. I mean, you got into this car without me even noticing. Then again, I was pretty upset. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if a pterodactyl had gotten into my car.”

  He gave a muffled snort. At least that was progress.

  “So what do you say? If we’re going on a road trip, we should probably get to know each other a little better, don’t you think?”

  “Do you always talk so much?”

  Oh good. Now she was getting on his nerves. That was definitely progress.

  “Well, since this is the first time I’ve ever been carjacked, I don’t have a lot of past history to base it on. I do tend to talk when I get nervous, so there’s that. Do you think you can maybe just give me a clue about where we’re going?”

  “You’re going to make a statement to the press.”

  “Um … I am? What about?”

  “You’ll find out when it’s time.”

  Her mind raced as she wended her way down the mountain road. What on earth would she make a statement to the press about? She’d already apologized for the gay farmers in the senator’s portrait.

  “Oh my God. Is this about…the sketch I did for that robbery at the Depot? Are you mad about that? Are you Timmy Upgraff? Or no—something from earlier, from San Francisco. One of the cases I worked.”

  It was amazing, now that she thought about it, how many reasons there could be for someone to be angry with her.

  The man with the knife laughed, a sound loaded with scorn for her cluelessness. “You’re off base, lady. Not even close.”

  Okay, this was one very fucked-up game of “hot or hotter.”

  “Something about my father?” she ventured. “Did you know my father? Are
you worried that I’ll get too close to some kind of secret? Because I should inform you that I still don’t know anything.”

  Pain throbbed in her neck as he pressed the knife closer to her skin. “Good to know,” he growled. “I can work with that. Should have known you and Rockwell wouldn’t get anywhere. Too busy fucking, probably.”

  A severe chill shot through her. “Wait. Is this because of Griffin?”

  “Ding ding.”

  She fought to get her thoughts to clear, to make any kind of sense. “If you’re trying to hurt Griffin, you might as well know that we’re not together anymore.”

  The man didn’t respond in any way.

  “Are you a local, then? Someone who’s known Griffin for a while? Or do you know him from motocross?”

  He laughed again, and this time the sound was vaguely familiar. Who was this guy?

  They were approaching the town now, and she tapped on the brakes to slow the car down the way Griffin had taught her. Was there any chance Griffin would follow her? Her phone had buzzed a couple of times, but she hadn’t attempted to answer it. Maybe, if she was lucky, it was Griffin calling, and he would correctly interpret her lack of answering as a sign of danger. But then what? How would he know where to go? She didn’t even know where they were going.

  “Let’s say I do agree to make a statement. Why would the press care what I say?”

  “You were in the news before, I looked you up. You’ll say it’s a statement about Senator Walker. Then you’ll switch to the playbook I give you.”

  Playbook … that was an odd word to choose. Why hadn’t he said ‘script’ or something like that? Who was this?

  “You seem to have this all planned out. Strategic thinker, are you? What do you do for a living? Is there any harm in telling me that, at least?”

  “Let’s just say I work with kids.”

  That made her blood run cold. Someone like this worked with children? He had to be stopped—not just for her sake, and for Griffin’s, but for all the young people he came in contact with.