by TJ Klune
“Okay, good. So you know there’s this guy Darth Vader.”
“I know.”
“He’s, like, part machine and part man and carries a red—”
“I know who he is!”
“Well, I like him.”
“You like him,” Nate said slowly. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Because he was bad, but he really wasn’t. And also, he could raise his hand and choke people. Granted, the entire Star Wars universe is a little unrealistic, because that’s not how—” She cut herself off. She cocked her head at him. The towel drooped. “Anyway. Darth Vader.”
“And Artemis.”
“She was the goddess of the hunt. Of wilderness. She protected girls.”
“And you liked that.”
She nodded. “More than any of the others. Do you think they were real?”
“I don’t… are you asking me if I think ancient Greek deities are real?”
“Yes.”
“No. No, I don’t think ancient Greek deities are real.”
“That’s too bad.” She sat back against the couch and opened her book again.
Nate wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to this point.
The shower was still running.
Could he do this?
“Art, listen.”
“Listening.”
“I need you to be honest with me.”
“I can do that, Nate.”
“Good. That’s good. Could you look at me, please?”
“I can multitask. I’m actually quite good at it. And Ned Bannon is about to—”
“For me. Please.”
She sighed the great sigh of the put-upon, but she closed the book and looked at him.
“Thank you. Now. I need you to think about your answer. Okay? Really think. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure.”
“Did Alex kidnap you? Is he hurting you? Do you need me to help you get away from him?”
She didn’t answer.
“Art?”
She stared at him.
He leaned forward. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m showing you that I’m really thinking like you asked me to. When you really think on something, you don’t answer right away.”
“That’s—”
“Okay, done thinking. No. Alex is not hurting me. I don’t need to get away from him. He’s my Alex. There’s no one else in this world I want to be with.”
Nate didn’t know if she was telling the truth or if this was some form of Stockholm syndrome. He needed to push. “Has he ever hurt you?”
She squinted at him. “Not intentionally. One time he grabbed my wrist too hard, but it was only because we were running really fast and he didn’t know he was squeezing too tightly. My legs aren’t as long as his.”
Nate felt a chill run down his spine. “What were you running from?”
“Men.”
“What men?”
“The men with guns.”
“Like… the police?”
“No.”
A terrible thought struck him. “Are you on the run from the Mafia?”
She laughed brightly. “Oh, Nate. I like you. I’m so glad we chose to break into your cabin. You are so strange.”
“What’s going on?”
Nate jumped.
Alex was standing in the hallway, water dripping over his naked chest, holding a towel that barely seemed to wrap around his waist. The tattoo was clear now. The KA-BAR. The eagle. USMC. A ribbon with the words DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR wrapped around the bird and blade. The dark hair on his chest and stomach was matted down and wet. The bruising on his stomach, which just yesterday had been blue and purple and vivid, was now mottled green and fading.
“Nate was just asking me if we were running from the Mafia,” Art answered cheerfully. “Isn’t he funny?”
“Hysterical,” Alex said, staring at Nate.
But Nate wasn’t going to be cowed. Not by a little girl. Not by a wet, barely covered man. “So,” he said. “Not the Mafia, then. But she did say it was men with guns.”
“Did she?”
“Sure did,” Art said, flipping through the next page of the book. “Oh, Ned Bannon. She’s too good for you. You’ve got your heart set on revenge. Hey, Alex. Did you know that Nate’s seen Star Wars?”
“Has he,” Alex said in such a way that Nate was sure it almost meant I am death, destroyer of worlds.
“Yes. He also asked me if you kidnapped me.”
“Traitor,” Nate muttered.
“And you said?”
She looked at him. “You’re dripping on the floor. Why aren’t you wearing clothes? Are you trying to show off?” She glanced at Nate, then back at Alex. “I think it’s working.”
Nate looked away, face heating.
“Art, keep your mouth shut,” Alex warned. “And you.”
Nate swallowed thickly.
“You just…” He made an aggravated noise before spinning on his heel and stomping back down the hall. A door slammed shut a moment later.
Art looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re in so much trouble,” she whispered.
He didn’t like the smile on her face.
Nate Cartwright wasn’t a stupid man.
He wasn’t.
He had a strong sense of self-preservation.
Which is why he immediately grabbed his keys and phone and took off down the side of the mountain as fast as he dared to go.
He watched in the rearview mirror, sure that he’d see Alex charging after him, half-dressed (and why did he even have to add in that little detail?), gun pointed forward, ready to blow Nate’s head off.
But there was nothing but dust being kicked up behind the truck as the cabin grew smaller behind him.
He waited until he’d gotten to the main highway before he looked down at his phone.
He had bars. They flickered, but they were there.
He pulled over to the side of the road.
He left the truck running.
He started to dial 911.
He stared down at it, thumb hovering over the Send button.
His heart was jackrabbiting in his chest.
Instead, he deleted the 1 and the 1 and the 9.
He pulled up his contacts. Highlighted who he was looking for. Hit Send.
It rang three times before— “Hello?”
“Big Eddie?”
“Nate!” Big Eddie said in that deep voice of his. “Didn’t expect to hear from you this quickly. Everything all right?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just—” What? It was just… what? “Have you… is there anything? On the news?”
“There’s a lot of things on the news,” Big Eddie said slowly. “No TV up in the cabin, right?”
“Yeah. Mom, she—it was too expensive. And she didn’t want us watching TV during the summer anyway.”
“Makes sense. You sound… I don’t know how you sound. What’s going on?”
“A girl. A man.”
“What girl? What man?”
“Anything on the news? About people… missing? Or something?”
“No,” Big Eddie said. “Not that I’ve seen. I haven’t—hold on a second. Abe. Hey, Abe!”
A muffled reply.
“You hear anything about a missing girl? Just—I don’t know. A missing girl. Little, Nate?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, like—okay. Right. Right. I’ll be right there, you old fart.” Big Eddie sighed. “Nothing doing, Nate. Why do you ask? You see something?”
He thought fast. “No, just—a man and a girl up near the lake. Just a weird feeling, you know?”
Big Eddie hummed. “Oh sure. You can’t ignore your gut, right? Especially you. You’d probably know better than anyone. You sure it’s not someone staying in one of the other cabins? Just be
cause it’s the off-season doesn’t mean some still don’t get rented out.”
“I know. I—”
Big Eddie lowered his voice. “You see something, maybe? I can call the sheriff if you want. I think Griggs is on shift if you need me to—”
“No,” Nate said hastily. “No. No sheriff. I’m probably just overreacting. Tired, you know?”
“Sure,” Big Eddie said. “And being up there for the first time is probably bringing back all kinds of memories. It’s tough. I know.”
“It’s nothing,” Nate said, closing his eyes.
“If you’re sure.”
“Yeah.”
“Get your water turned on okay?”
Nate sighed. “Yeah. Guy came up bright and early this morning.”
Big Eddie laughed. “Jimmy doesn’t do anything bright and early.”
“No. Not Jimmy. A guy named Randy.”
“Well, there you go. Just when you think you know everyone. That’s good. Nate, you get settled in, all right? And if anything else happens, you call me, okay? It might be nothing, but…”
“Yeah. I will. Thanks, Big Eddie. Sorry to bother you.”
“No bother, friend. Be safe.”
“Bye.”
The phone beeped in his ear.
He tapped it against his forehead.
Roseland was a small town. Everyone knew everyone’s business there. It was a fact of rural life. But that didn’t mean they’d come from Roseland. They could be from anywhere. He should have given Big Eddie a name. Not Artemis Darth Vader. No. That couldn’t be real. But Alex Delgado? That could be—
An idea hit.
Hard.
He scrolled through his phone again.
He checked his watch.
It was only ten in the morning.
Which meant it would be one on the East Coast.
He found the name he was looking for.
He hit Send.
It rang once.
A voice said, “This is Davis.”
“Ruth. It’s me.”
There was a pause. Then, incredulously, “Nate?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy fucking shit. Do you know how many messages I’ve left for you? You goddamn asshole, you—hold on a second. I swear to god, if you hang up, I will end you.” Ruth Davis muffled the phone on her end. He heard the faintest of sounds coming through, her low, smoky rasp the loudest of all. He closed his eyes, imagining her sitting in the newsroom, people rushing around her, desks lining the floor cluttered with papers and files and fat computer monitors. He felt a sharp twinge in his chest at the thought of it. He’d been so wide-eyed the first moment he’d stepped inside, on his way to interview for an internship that didn’t pay him a dime but that he wanted more than anything.
Ruth had been there, even then.
She’d been there for decades. She was a tough old broad who still used a typewriter and lamented about the days gone by when she could chain-smoke right at her desk rather than having to take the damn elevator down to the courtyard. If asked, no one could say exactly what Ruth’s job title was, but she did a little bit of everything and was more than willing to help out if asked—if only she liked you. And liked might have been too strong a word. If Ruth Davis tolerated your existence, chances were you were going to make something of yourself. If she hated you, you’d most likely be working somewhere else within six months. No one fucked with Ruth. One guy had tried to complain about her to the higher-ups. He’d been fired three days later.
For some reason, she’d liked Nate. Not just tolerated but liked. Of course, she’d chewed him up and spit him out on numerous occasions, but that was the only reason he’d become better at what he did. She was harsh, but only because she cared. Or so she said.
She was a tiny thing, black with a frizzy white afro and rings for each finger that wouldn’t be repeated within a month’s time. Nate had often wondered just how much jewelry she had, but he didn’t want to take a chance in asking her and facing her wrath.
He adored her.
He also hadn’t said goodbye to her when he’d been marched out by security, his meager belongings in a box, his skin vibrating, the panic still simmering at a low level because this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be real—
So. He was expecting what was about to come. He hadn’t spoken to her in the weeks since.
“Nate,” she said, coming back to the phone. Her voice was a growl, not unlike Alex, if he were honest. He’d never tell either of them he’d thought that, of course. One had a gun. The other carried a Taser. “Where the hell are you?”
He thought about lying. Instead, he said, “Oregon.”
“Oregon,” she spat at him. “Oregon. As in the state?”
“I didn’t know there was any other Ore—”
“Are you sassing me, kiddo?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” she said, and he could hear the furious clack of her typewriter in the background. “I am going to ask you questions. You are going to answer these questions. If at any point I feel you’re not being truthful with answers to said questions, I will find a way to tear your intestines out through your asshole. Do we have an understanding?”
He missed her quite a bit. “Yes.”
“Good. Now. First question. Why Oregon?”
“My parents had a cabin here. They left it to me.”
“And when did you find this out?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“Where in Oregon?”
“Outside Roseland. Near Herschel Lake.”
“Sounds scenic and absolutely terrible. I’m writing this all down. Mind ain’t what it used to be. I don’t want to forget in case I need to get my fat ass on a plane to hunt you down.”
He wisely said nothing.
“Herschel… Lake. Now, since I know fuck all about Oregon, I assume this is in the middle of nowhere and you’re surrounded by trees and nature and birds and shit.”
“That’s… apt.” Because yes, he was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees right at that very moment.
“Are you turning into a hippie? Communing with nature? Working on some secret pot farm and trying to find yourself again because you’re lost?”
He smiled despite himself. “No, Ruth.”
“You know how I feel about pot-growing hippies.”
“I do.”
“Goddamn draft dodgers.”
“So you’ve said.” Many times. Even without provocation.
“Are you safe?”
And what an odd question for her to ask in the grand scheme of things. And even then, he hesitated. “Yes.”
Of course she picked up on it. “Are you sure about that?”
“I… think so. It’s—complicated.”
“Make it uncomplicated.”
“I need you to look up a name for me.”
“Do you.”
“Yes.”
“Go.”
“Alex Delgado. He’s… forty. Marines. Maybe former. But you know what they say, once a Marine—”
“Always a Marine,” she agreed. “Please tell me I’m not doing a search on someone you’re wanting to fuck.”
“Oh my god.”
Ruth ignored him. “Because if I am, I have to say that’s pretty damn smart, using your resources like that. Maybe it’s slightly reprehensible, but you can’t be too safe.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ruth!”
“I had to ask. So you don’t want to fuck him?”
“No!”
“Hmm. I’ll let that go. For now. Why am I looking up this man?”
“Just—he’s up here. In the cabins. And he’s—different. There’s something off. And I can’t figure it out. He has a girl with him. I think she’s his daughter, but…”
“But…”
“I don’t know!” he said, exasperated. “Nothing about either of them mak
es any sense. And it’s pissing me off.”
“So instead of asking, you’re going behind their backs and coming to me to do the searching for you.”
“Yes. Exactly. This.”
“I approve,” she said. “But if you think that little girl is in any danger, you need to call the cops. Better to be wrong about doing the right thing. You can always apologize after. You don’t take chances, not when kids are involved.”
He’s my Alex. There’s no one else in this world I want to be with.
“I don’t think it’s like that,” Nate admitted. “But if that changes, I will do what I can. I promise.”
“Good. This will take a few days. Can’t just drop everything because you finally decided to call me back.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I had to get out. I had to leave.”
“Is…” She sighed. “Rumors, you know?”
“I know.”
“They true?”
“Depends on what they’re saying, I guess.”
“Bathhouse,” she said, dry as dust. “Married junior senator. You using him as a source while still getting your dick wet.”
“Well. Then the rumors would be true.”
She whistled. “You sly dog.”
“It’s not something I’m proud of.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t be. Wife’s got photos, huh?”
“PI. Didn’t know we were being followed.”
“How long did this go on?”
Of course she would ask that. “Three months.”
“Jesus, Nate.”
“I know.”
“I would have fired your sorry ass too.”
“After you beat the shit out of me.”
“Damn right. You’re lucky I didn’t find out before you left DC. What are you going to do now?”
He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t know. That’s what Oregon is for. To clear my head.”
“And now you’re calling me about big, bad Marines named Alex Delgado.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure, kiddo. If you say so.”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t give a shit whether you lie to yourself. But don’t you lie to me. That’s your only warning. I won’t push, but I don’t deserve that, Nathaniel.”
He huffed out a breath. “Fine.”
“I’ll get back to you when I can.”
“If I don’t pick up, it’s because I have bad service up here in the mountains. Just leave me a message, and I’ll call you back.”