Many of her friends had told her stories about the elusive spark, and how they knew the instant they met someone that they loved them. All their talk had made her wonder if there wasn’t something wrong with her—aside from her atrocious taste in her past boyfriends. She had tried to make herself feel better by telling herself that her friends were crazy, that nothing like that ever existed except in movies. Those sparks were just weakness...their body’s way of opening itself up and revealing its most vulnerable part—the heart.
Right now, she wasn’t sure if she was right or wrong, but she wasn’t ready to give her heart to anyone...not after all she had put it through in the last few years.
“I’m a good driver, regardless of what you think.” She forced herself to let go of his hand.
A silence widened the gap between them.
“Uh-huh,” he said, sounding dejected as he put his hand in his lap.
Maybe it had been wrong to pull back from him. If she had stayed put it might have made it easier to learn everything she needed to know about his family, their work, their role in the murders and their gun trade. And for a while, she could have just lied to herself and told herself that this really was her life. She could play the housekeeper who was falling head over heels for the man beside her.
She groaned. Why did he have to make her feel this way? It was so much easier to live within the framework built by the FBI—where he was nothing but her assignment and she was safely detached.
If feelings didn’t have a way of muddling everything in her life maybe they wouldn’t be so bad, but as it was, feelings sucked.
As the little shanty came into view, with its rusty, corrugated steel roof filled with holes, she relaxed. She’d never been so happy to get to a dead body in her life. At least she’d have something to think about besides her feelings.
That was, if she could just control her reaction when she saw the man again. She couldn’t be weak in front of Trevor. She had to prove to him that, like he said, a single event wasn’t truly indicative of anything—it was an anomaly.
She pulled the truck and trailer down the drive leading to the pathetic shack and turned to Trevor. “I’ll get the horses together and buttoned up if you want to go take a look around.”
He gave her a look of disbelief, like he questioned who she thought she was giving orders to him. She’d have to reel that in a bit. No matter what she personally felt, she had to remember that she was supposed to be doing a job...a job that didn’t include leading the charge in getting to the bottom of a hillbilly’s murder mystery. She had bigger fish to fry.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll give you a hand,” Trevor said. “With things out here so up in the air, I don’t want to leave you alone. We don’t know where those other Cussler boys are, or the women. For all we know, we’re walking out into some kind of mountain men’s civil war.”
He wasn’t wrong, but she couldn’t seem to think straight thanks to his presence.
“You think his body’s still inside?” she asked.
Trevor shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I hoped his body was still in there. It would make things a lot easier if his remains are buried somewhere out in the woods.”
Once again, they were skating down the slippery slope between right and wrong, but she couldn’t disagree with him.
The horses nickered as she and Trevor stepped out of the truck and into the mud. Theirs were the only fresh tracks.
“It’s okay, guys, we’re gonna get you out,” Trevor cooed to the horses as they stomped inside the trailer.
He walked around behind the trailer and opened the door. Carefully, they backed the horses out and walked them around and tied them up. He helped her put on the horse’s bridle and cinch her saddle tight. He may not have gone on a horseback ride in a long time, but he seemed right at home taking care of the animals.
“Here, let me give you a leg up,” he said, holding out his hands.
She didn’t want to take his help. Not after she’d made such a show of taking over the driving. But the last time she’d ridden on a horse the owner had kindly given her a set of steps in order to get up.
She put her left foot in the stirrup and he helped her with her right. For a moment, his hand rested on her thigh as he untied the horse and handed her the reins, unclipping the lead rope.
“You got him. You gonna be okay?” he asked.
She nodded. She’d forgotten the thrill that came with sitting astride a horse. It didn’t escape her that she was sitting on an animal who weighed a ton more than she did, but was just as stubborn. Hopefully today would go well and she wouldn’t make an idiot of herself. All she had to do was pretend she knew what she was doing and soon enough she would.
At least she hoped.
“What’s her name?” she asked as the horse took an unwelcome step away from the trailer. She checked the reins, trying to pull her to a stop.
“First off, he’s a gelding, and I think he goes by Zane.”
She wasn’t off to a great start.
She ran her hands down his whiskey-colored coat. “You and I are going to get along great, aren’t we, Zane?” She tried to sound more confident than she felt.
The horse took another step, and she tried to relax into the saddle. It was going to be okay; she just had to play it cool.
Trevor rode up alongside her. “And this is Donnie. They’re both supposed to be great horses, so I think you’re gonna do fine.” He reached back and slipped something into the saddlebag.
Apparently, he could see exactly how uncomfortable she was. She readjusted herself in the saddle and tried to recall what she had been told about sitting up straight. She couldn’t remember exactly how she was supposed to move with the horse. No doubt she looked like a sixth-grade girl at her first dance—gangly and out of rhythm.
And just like a sixth-grade girl, she wondered when she would finally get over her awkwardness. She was tired of always feeling like she didn’t quite fit into any situation. Just once, she would’ve liked to let herself go and fully give herself to the world around her.
Thankfully, Trevor and Donnie took the lead and Zane moved in step behind them. They rode over to the shanty, where Trevor stepped down from his horse and handed her his reins. “You guys stay here and I’ll go check on our friend. I’ll be right back.”
She looped the reins in her hand and stared at the cabin’s blacked-out window. For a second, she considered getting down and going in with Trevor, but she stayed seated. Maybe it was weak of her to not want to see the dead man, but it saved her from making a fool of herself. It was probably the same reason Trevor had left her behind.
She couldn’t deny the fact that he was thoughtful and kind, but she forced the thoughts away. No, he was a fugitive from the law. Her enemy.
She pulled out her phone—no signal. She hated the feeling of being cut off from the world around her. There probably wouldn’t be a cell signal again until they were back at the ranch. She reminded herself that they’d be back tonight. Besides, Mike had made it clear that he wasn’t keen on the idea of her checking in too often. If she was out of contact, at least she would be off Mike’s radar.
And yet the whole situation made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She was completely on her own. If Trevor caught even a whiff of what she was up to, he could kill her and dump her body without anyone ever being the wiser.
She took a calming breath. No, she hadn’t made him suspect anything. This would go fine. It would be suspicious if she tried to leave now. She just had to blend in and play along, gleaning information as they went.
There was the rattle of dishes from inside the cabin. “Everything okay in there?” she called.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Trevor answered. “The body’s gone. Aside from him being missing, everything else seems untouched.” Trevor walked out of the cabin and got back up into
the saddle. He was frowning, and there was a distinct look of concern on his face.
“I bet it was one of the brothers. They probably saw us here the other day and as soon as we left they came in and got the body.”
She thought back to the puddle of blood she’d destroyed behind the shanty. More than likely, the blood had belonged to one of the other Cusslers, and it wasn’t until he’d been treated for his wound that the family could come and recover the body. And yet she couldn’t tell Trevor what she really thought.
Trevor rode toward the trail that led up the mountain. “The only way we can be sure to know what is going on here is to find them. We need to talk to them and make sure they know they aren’t welcome back. I can’t have my family involved with whatever’s going on out here. We don’t do chaos.”
She nearly chuckled. Her life was often nothing but chaos and one crazy event after another—just another reason they didn’t fit. Not to mention she would be constantly keeping secrets from him. A relationship and life built on bedlam and secrets wasn’t viable—she had learned that lesson all too well. And in her line of work, all she had was secrets. She could only imagine what would happen if she truly had to keep everything about her work away from the man she loved.
Wait, did she love him? No. It was impossible.
She had to pay attention to the work at hand and remember that she was going to bring chaos to his life no matter what he wanted.
“What else have you found out about their family?” she asked as they started ascending the trail.
“My sister, Zoey, she’s a super nerd. Anything on the computer, she can do it,” he said, his tone filled with unmistakable love and pride for her. “She’s been looking into a few things for me, and so far, we haven’t found anything of use. Though I can’t say I was surprised.”
“She found nothing. That’s odd.”
“There was just one headline, must have been from forty years ago—a man who might have been the dead guy’s father was convicted on a murder charge. Apparently, he suffered from what the paper called insanity, but from what I can make of it, it sounded like he had undiagnosed schizophrenia. He spent ten years in an institution, then disappeared from the records.”
She cringed as she thought of the antiquated institutions where those with mental health issues had been stuffed away. They were the thing of nightmares—corporal punishment, physical labor, isolation, lobotomies and even sometimes practicing eugenics. She could barely imagine the horror and the terror those who were forced to live in such a place must have experienced.
“As in he died? Or do you think he escaped?”
Trevor shrugged. “I would guess he died, but who knows.”
Even if the man was alive, by now he’d have to be in at least his late sixties, and the last thing he would do is kill his own son. But then again, humans—and the atrocities they committed—constantly surprised her. Filicide wasn’t that uncommon, even if she wasn’t accustomed to seeing it. She’d heard about it in many other investigations—and it was increasingly common in cases where large amounts of money or corporations were involved...or in cases of mental illness.
On the other hand, she’d read study after study that had found that only a small proportion of schizophrenics were dangerous to others...and yet this man had already proven that he was in the small percentage that was willing to kill.
She nibbled at her lip. If she remembered correctly, children of a person with schizophrenia were 13 percent more likely to develop symptoms of the disease.
“Do you think he was killed by family, or do you really think it was someone else? One of the other squatter families?”
The leather of his saddle creaked as he looked back at her. “I hope it’s one of those things. If not, we’re going to have a significantly bigger problem on our hands.”
“What are you going to do if these guys come back to the shack?” she asked.
“We will make sure they know they aren’t welcome...we can’t have people being murdered left and right on our land and we can’t be compromised—” He stopped and glanced back at her to see if she was listening. “We can’t have anyone or anything living at the ranch that is going to be a liability.”
She tried to keep from cringing. “Gwen and her mother lived here for a long time. They managed to coexist peacefully with the Cusslers. Don’t you think it’s strange that all of a sudden people are turning up dead out here?”
“Gwen didn’t tell you everything, did she?” He laughed. “Gwen’s crew called the cops out here more times than I can count to evict the family. When that didn’t work, they came out and bulldozed their little shanty—more than once. These suckers are like gophers. They just keep popping their heads up.”
In a way, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the people who had been living out here on the land illegally; no doubt, if they had other options, they wouldn’t have found themselves in the situation they were in. But perhaps she was giving the Cusslers too much credit. They were knowingly breaking the law, indifferent about the rights of others, disrespectful and possible killers.
She shook her head as she thought of the moral pluralism they were facing. Why could nothing be cut-and-dried? What she would give to go back in time, to live in her early twenties when she was smart and resourceful enough to be independent, but still naive enough to believe that everything in the world was simply black or white, good or evil. She longed for the days when she just made a decision and didn’t second-guess herself or think of at least nineteen other ways to answer the questions posed to her.
“I’m sure Gwen doesn’t feel good about what she was forced to do,” she said, thinking of the moment she covered up the blood, and when she had come inside the shanty to see Trevor wiping off the gun.
“Like Gwen said, they were well beyond help.” Trevor slowed down so they could ride side by side.
The terrain had flattened out and they were surrounded by a thick pine forest, a forest where anything or anyone could have been hiding completely undetected. Chills rippled down her spine as she thought of the danger that may well have been surrounding them. Trevor reached down and ran his fingers over his gun’s grip as he also must have realized the farther they rode, the farther they were from help.
“Had you ever been to the house before, you know, before we saw him?” she asked.
Trevor shook his head. “No, but I’d heard about the place and I had been tasked with cleaning it up—just like you.”
Was that what he had been doing with the murder weapon—cleaning up the place?
She wanted to ask him why he had wiped off the gun, but if she revealed what she had seen, it may well place her in danger. Trevor would never hurt her, but she didn’t know if she could say the same thing about the rest of his family. If it was known she could act as a witness and testify against him—if push came to shove—they may decide to take her out. As it was, he had already hinted that they saw her as some kind of liability.
She was the only one outside the family, and outside the Cusslers, who knew about the murder.
She had known she was in danger before, but as she worked through her thoughts, the fear within her swelled.
“Is that why you picked up the gun and wiped it off?” If she was going to be in danger, she might as well at least find out the truth.
Trevor pulled his horse to a stop and she followed suit. He stared at her for a long moment, like he was thinking about exactly what he wanted to say. He had to realize there was no use in lying; obviously she had seen what he had done, and he was likely weighing the consequences and ramifications of her revelation.
“I don’t know why I did that. I just—”
“Wanted to cover your brother’s tracks?” she said, finishing his sentence.
“Look, I don’t know where you got that idea, but Chad isn’t the kind of guy who would just come out and murder som
ebody. We aren’t that kind of people...we’re just looking for a quiet place to retire and get out of the public eye.” Trevor raised his hands, like he was submitting to her.
She wanted to believe him, but he and his family were likely nothing but a deadly force.
“But you weren’t sure, or else you wouldn’t wipe down the gun. There was no harm in just leaving it there if you knew he wasn’t responsible.”
He looked down at his hands as he rested them on the saddle horn.
“From the little time I’ve been here, it’s obvious to me you guys aren’t all you say you are—you’re not just some investment bankers or hedge fund family or whatever.” Her entire body tensed as she thought about how much danger she was putting herself in.
“Who is it that you think we are?” Trevor asked, catching her gaze. He looked torn.
“I don’t know, but I want you to tell me.” She was forcing him to completely trust her or else get rid of her.
She was playing the odds that he had strong feelings for her, feelings that he would give in to. It was just too bad that if he did open up to her, he’d end up getting screwed.
Chapter Seven
The last person who started asking questions about his family had ended up dead. It had been three weeks before the body washed ashore on the coast of North Carolina. They handled security breaches in such a way that he was surprised anyone had ever found the body at all.
He couldn’t let anything happen to Sabrina. She wasn’t like the man before, who had been investigating the family for the French government. She was innocent and unfortunately too observant and smart for her own good—and for his as well.
“My family and I are from New York. Last year, our tech company VidCon went public and we sold our shares to an investor. We all had been working together for so long it just didn’t make sense for us to go our separate ways, and we all loved the Widow Maker. We came here a lot as children and had so many good memories. Here, we could be together as a family, each building our own houses on the property.”
Hidden Truth Page 7