Retribution

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  When at last they lay, calm and settled, he touched a finger to her cheek. “Would you like to sleep awhile?”

  She shook her head. “I’m too happy to sleep. I just want to lie here with you, Adam.”

  He lay with his hand under his head, the other hand holding hers, fingers linked, staring into the flames. His attention was caught by the framed picture on the mantel.

  Almost married.

  He’d found the phrase odd when Sidney had first said it. Now he had to admit to himself that it was exactly right. It was what he was feeling with her now.

  He’d always told himself that marriage was for ordinary men with ordinary jobs. A man who made his living chronicling life’s misery in the far corners of the world had no right to an ordinary man’s dreams and desires.

  But at least for this day, in this cabin with Sidney, he was feeling as close to married as he’d ever been.

  Not that he was fooling himself. He had no right to subject a woman as special as Sidney to the kind of worry his lifestyle would create. Still, it was pleasant, just for this day and night, to live out the fantasy.

  The realities of his life, he thought with sudden clarity, were bound to come charging back all t. Wasn’t that why he’d come back to her? To assure himself that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe? Or were there other reasons, as well? Reasons he didn’t care to probe too deeply?

  They both dozed, while the music of Camelot played softly in the other room.

  An hour later, with Picasso and Toulouse attacking their pet dishes, Sidney and Adam sat on the sofa in front of the fire and enjoyed their dinner.

  After the first bite, Sidney sighed. “I want this recipe.”

  He sipped a cold beer. “I’ll write it down for you. Or you could make it easy on yourself by just keeping me around so I could fix it for you.”

  “Deal.” Sidney laughed easily. “What did you and Bert talk about on your walk after brunch?”

  “You, mostly.”

  “What did you say about me?”

  “That I’m crazy about you.”

  Sidney’s jaw dropped. “You told my grandmother that?”

  He chuckled and leaned over to brush a kiss over her lips. “You can close your mouth now, Sidney. It’s not some earthshaking announcement. She asked how I felt about you and I told her.”

  “But you never even told me.”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “So you are.” She huffed out a breath and seemed to consider for a moment. “I seem to hear everything last, after you’ve told my family.”

  “Maybe I like them better than you.”

  That had her laughing out loud as she began gathering up the dishes and carrying them to the kitchen. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck. “I was thinking we could do those dishes later.”

  She glanced at the raindrops streaking the windows. “It’s too wet to walk off our meal.”

  “Maybe I have something better in mind than a walk.”

  “Glutton.” She was laughing as he caught her hand and led her toward the bedroom.

  Chapter 12

  “Snowflakes.” Adam turned on his windshield wipers. “Isn’t it too early for snow?”

  Sidney fastened her seat belt. “Anybody who lives in Northern Michigan will tell you it’s never too early for snow, unless it’s the Fourth of July.”

  Adam found himself laughing.

  “But I don’t think it’ll stick. The ground is too wet and too warm yet. Give it a couple more weeks, though, and it’ll start to pile up.” She stared out at the red-and-gold shower of leaves drifting past them on a cold blast of wind always loved the first snowfall of the year, when you wake up and everything is covered in a soft, white blanket.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” He grinned at her. “Which reminds me. As long as I’m picking up clean clothes at the lighthouse, I’ll grab a parka, too.” Thinking about snow had Adam turning up the heat.

  “And as long as we’re going into town afterward, I’ll need to pick up some art supplies.”

  “Amazing what a day off routine can do.” Adam shot her a smile. “I feel like I could walk a couple of miles through the woods without even breaking a sweat.”

  “Good. Maybe later on we could go hiking. I feel like I need to do something to work off all that food you’ve been fixing.”

  “Don’t worry.” He shot her a wicked grin. “I’m sure we can find a way to work off those excess calories.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we can. But once in a while it wouldn’t hurt to change our routine.”

  “Routine? A few hours in my arms, and already I’ve become routine.”

  He turned the Jeep off the road and onto the lane that led to the lighthouse. “You can pick up your art supplies while I’m getting mauled by Marcella The Dominatrix.”

  “Watch it. I might decide to tell her what you’ve been calling her behind her back.”

  “Ouch.” He rubbed his shoulder. “If she’s rough now, just think what she’d do to me if she really wanted to give me a workout.”

  They shared another laugh. It occurred to Adam that he’d laughed more in the past day than he had in years.

  “Actually,” Sidney added. “My sister Emily says Marcella is just about the best physical therapist in the business.”

  “Is that what they’re calling female wrestlers this year?”

  They were still laughing as they pulled up to the lighthouse. Adam walked around and held the door, then took Sidney’s hand in his as they walked together to the front door.

  Inside he left her in the main room, while he went upstairs to his bedroom to pack a few things in his duffel. A short time later he sauntered down the stairs. “Before we go, I’ll show you my darkroom.”

  She couldn’t help chuckling. “If we hadn’t just spent a great deal of time in bed, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

  “What makes you think I’m not?” He led the way to the small utility room and pushed open the door. Inside he flicked on a light.

  Sidney stared around at the bottles of chemicals and assorted trays. “Oh, Adam, this is perfect. Won’t it be satisfying to be able to develop your own film?”

  “Definitely. Now that I have what I need, I figure I’ll get started on that in the next couple of days. It’ll be a full-time job for awhile, since I’ve accumulated so many rolls of film.”

  He w leave when he suddenly paused and bent to pick up a photograph from the floor. It was one of those he’d taken of Sidney by the shore. After studying it, he opened a manila folder and glanced at the other photos inside.

  His tone hardened. “Someone was here, going through my things.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  He turned the folder over. “I left this lying faceup. This photo was on the bottom of the stack.”

  “Why would someone want to look through a stack of photographs?”

  “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” He motioned toward the door and handed her the keys. “Lock yourself inside the Jeep and start the engine.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to check this place room by room.”

  “But what if the intruder is still here?”

  His eyes were icy chips. “I don’t have time for questions now, Sidney. But I need to know you’re safe. Go. Now.”

  She ran outside to the Jeep and did as he’d ordered, then peered around nervously, afraid that at any moment she would hear the sound of gunfire. Forcing slow, deep breaths, she lectured herself on the need to remain calm. Calm. Her calm, orderly life had suddenly taken a turn she didn’t like.

  Inside, Adam made a thorough tour of the rooms, opening cabinets and closets and cupboards before climbing the light tower all the way to the dome. When he was satisfied that no one was hiding inside, he hurried from the lighthouse, holding a cell phone to his ear. As he settled into the Jeep for the ride to Devil
’s Cove, Sidney listened in silence as Adam spoke in rapid-fire tones to someone on the other end of the line.

  “No footprints outside that were obvious, and no sign of forced entry. Except for the photograph in the darkroom, nothing else seemed out of place. And I didn’t see any sign of destruction, but you might want to bring along someone from the historical society to take a look, just in case the intruder targeted something of value that I wouldn’t know about.”

  He glanced at his watch. His tones were clipped. “If that’s the way you want it, and you have a pass-key, I can manage to stay away as long as you’d like. I was on my way to an appointment with my physical therapist when I discovered this breach. I’ll go ahead and keep my appointment as though nothing has changed. I’d feel a whole lot better knowing that someone from the historical society has done a thorough check of their artifacts.”

  After setting aside his cell phone, he turned to Sidney. “Looks like we won’t have to hurry home. The authorities have Mrs. Maddox on the case. Do you know her?”

  “The president of the historical society.” Sidney peered around, certain that at any minute a car would shoot out of the cover of thick trees to block their path. “Mrs. Maddox is a retired school teacher who served with Bert for years at Devil’s Cove High School. She’ll relish the chance to play detective. But only as long as she knows there are real detectives along to see to her safety.”

  “She’ll be safe. The Federal authorities assigned to the case will be with her. I’ll feel a lot better knowing someone is going to check for any missing items owned by the historical society.”

  “What if nothing’s missing?”

  He shrugged. “Then we’ll know it wasn’t someone wanting to steal a piece of Michigan’s history.”

  Despite his flippant remark, Adam had to nudge aside the nagging worry that it looked as though his idyll in this sleepy little town was about to come to a dramatic end.

  He drove slowly through town and pulled up to the clinic. “Want to go inside the torture chamber with me?”

  She linked her hand with his, needing to feel a connection with him, and marveled that even now, with this threat hanging over his head, he could keep things light. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Inside Sidney took a seat while Adam pressed a buzzer. Within minutes the inner door was opened, and Marcella Trowbridge was greeting them with a smile.

  “I see you brought reinforcements.” She smiled at Sidney. “Your sister tells me you’re small but mighty, but I’m not sure you’d like to go up against me. I’m tougher than I look.”

  Despite the danger that minutes earlier had her looking over her shoulder in fear, Sidney found herself laughing along with this friendly young woman. “Not likely, Marcella. Your reputation precedes you. By the way, I hear congratulations are in order.”

  The young woman actually blushed. “Who’d have thought I’d find the love of my life where I least expected it?”

  “Isn’t that what they always say?”

  “Uh-huh.” Marcella turned to Adam. “Time’s a-wasting. You’d better step into my office and strip.” She gave a low chuckle as she nudged him in the ribs. “I love saying that to my clients.”

  When Sidney didn’t follow, the therapist paused. “You coming in to watch the torture?”

  Sidney shook her head. “I’m afraid you two will have to arm wrestle alone. I’m off to talk art supplies with Skeeter Hilton.” She realized that she was actually looking forward to doing something normal, to keep her mind off the fear that was hovering over them like a dark cloud.

  “A wise decision.” Marcella winked. “Actually, what we do here isn’t a pretty sight.”

  When Sidney was gone, Adam removed his shirt and took a seat on the stool Marcella indicated.

  For the next half hour he followed her directions, working the damaged arm and shoulder in a series of movements that had him gritting his teeth in pain and frustration.

  As always, Marcella kept up a steady teasing banter to keep his mind off his discomfort. Because Adam understood what she was doing, he played along, catching the gibes she tossed his way and throwing them right back at her.

  “Good work,” she said at one point, as sweat beaded on his forehead and began streaking down the sides of his face.

  “Gee, thanks, Attila, I’m so glad you approve.”

  “Repeat after me,” she deadpanned. “I love pain. Pain is my friend.”

  “Yeah, this is right up there as one of my all-time favorite pastimes. Right along with getting a tattoo or having various parts of my body pierced.”

  “Okay.” She waited until he’d finished several repetitions of the exercise. “You can stop for a minute and relax.”

  Adam did as he was told. As Marcella began kneading the muscle of his shoulder she casually asked, “Oh, I almost forgot. Did your friend have any trouble finding you?”

  “My friend?”

  She slowly lifted his arm, had him hold it, then helped him lower it to his side. “I didn’t get his name, but he said you and he worked together for WNN in the Middle East. He stopped by here—” she paused to consider “—either yesterday or the day before that. I’ve been so busy, I’m not sure of the day. But he said he knew you were getting therapy, and since this clinic is the only one in town, he figured I might be able to tell him where you were staying. I gave him directions to the lighthouse.”

  Feeling the way Adam tensed, she stopped what she was doing. “Something wrong?”

  Adam turned to face her. “Can you describe this man?”

  “Let’s see. Tall, maybe as tall as you, and burly. A big, barrel-chested guy with muscles out to here.” She flexed her arms and held one hand over her own muscle. “Dark-haired, from what little I could see under his wool cap. I couldn’t see his eyes. He was wearing sunglasses. He spoke with an accent.” She was studying the frown line between Adam’s eyes. “I take it you weren’t expecting company?”

  He shook his head. “The only one who knows I’m in Devil’s Cove is my boss at WNN, and he doesn’t look anything like the man you just described.”

  He stood and began to pull on his shirt. “Sorry, Marcella, but I have to cut this session short. I need to make some phone calls right now.”

  She picked up her appointment book. “What about your next session?”

  He was already striding across the room. “It’ll have to wait.”

  He was halfway down the street when Sidney caught up with him. “Hey. Remember me?” She looped her arm through his and smiled up into his face. Seeing the tight line of his mouth she paused. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

  “Nothing, I hope.” He surprised her by stopping in front of the small office of the Devil’s Cove Police Department.

  Inside, after requesting a meeting with Police Chief Boyd Thompson, Adam and Sidney stepped into the chief’s office.

  After shaking hands, Boyd said, “The Federal authorities filled me in on your background. I take it you’re the only witness to the bombing, and you’ve already escaped two attempts on your life.”

  Adam nodded. “That’s why I can’t take any chances

  Boyd sat with hands folded atop his desk and listened in silence to Adam’s report of the suspected break-in at the lighthouse. It was clear, by his respectful demeanor and occasional nod, that he was taking this very seriously.

  “I’ve been told to watch for any strangers in town.” Boyd arched an eyebrow. “I wonder how he found Marcella.”

  “He would have known that I’d need therapy. His first botched attempt on my life occurred when he assumed the role of a doctor and nearly got to me in the hospital. If it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of an emergency-room nurse, he’d have succeeded. But he was able to get his hands on my medical file.”

  “I see. Okay. I’ll let Mrs. Maddox and the Feds deal with the lighthouse. I’ll interview Marcella and see if I can jog her memory for a better description. You realize it could just be some business associate, a reporter or f
ellow photojournalist you’ve met on your world travels, who wants to pay a call while he’s in town.”

  Adam shook his head. “I’m a lone wolf. My job dictates that I travel light and I travel alone.”

  The minute the words were out of his mouth he wanted to snatch them back. Too late he realized that the look in Sidney’s eyes wasn’t so much pain as resignation.

  Adam pulled his gaze away from hers and turned to the chief. “Trust me. I don’t have any business associates who’d break into my place while I was gone.”

  Boyd steepled his fingers atop his desk and stared right back. “You didn’t say where you were when this break-in occurred.”

  “I spend a lot of time in the forest, photographing nature. That’s what the historical society hired me to do while staying at the lighthouse.”

  “Quite the woodsman, I see. You sleep in the forest?”

  Adam’s tone sharpened. “Where I sleep…”

  Sidney laid a hand on his sleeve before turning to the police chief. “Adam spent the night at my cabin, Boyd. We just discovered the break-in this morning, when we returned to the lighthouse together.”

  Adam closed a hand over hers. “That’s none of his business.”

  “It is now.” Sidney’s words were spoken softly but firmly.

  Boyd Thompson cleared his throat. “Sorry. But Sidney’s right. I need all the facts. I’ll get on this right away.”

  Sidney gave him a smile. “Thank you, Boyd.”

  Though the two men shook hands, there was a strained silence between them.

  Boyd remained at his desk, watching through narrowed eyes as Adam and Sidney exited his office. Then, his mind going a million miles an hour, he picked up the phone and began to dial.

  It wasn’t often the Federal authorities were willing to involve a small-town police chief in one of their cases. In the years since Boyd had inherited the position from his father, this was the first time that he’d been invited to play in the big leagu