Secrets at Cedar Cabin

by Colleen Coble

  The isolation felt both intriguing and terrifying. She got out, picked up Sheba, then squared her shoulders and marched to the front door. Should she knock to be sure the cabin was vacant? Through the window in the door she saw bulky furniture in the living room. The place seemed unoccupied.

  She shifted Sheba to one arm, unlocked the door, and pushed it open before she could chicken out. The scent of dust and emptiness hit her nose, and she stopped at the light switch. When she flipped it, nothing happened. She toggled it again, but no welcome light pushed away the gloominess. Was the bulb burned out? She stepped into the living room to the end table beside the shrouded sofa and switched on a lamp. Nothing.

  Sheba began to struggle, so she let her down to explore.

  Of course there was no power. No heat, no electricity. What was she going to do? She’d passed a motel on the edge of Lavender Tides, but she didn’t want to spend more of her cash if she could help it. The temperature was supposed to fall into the thirties tonight. She needed heat, but it was already past five. The electric company wouldn’t be open again until Monday.

  Three nights without heat and lights. She’d endured worse.

  She thrust back the heavy curtains and sneezed as dust flew up her nose. Dim light from the overcast afternoon filtered into the room. The tiny living room opened into a kitchen on its left side and a bedroom on the right. Ladder stairs near the kitchen led to a loft. More drapes covered the windows at the back, and she opened them to reveal a view of the nearby woods. Blue water peeked between the trees. A lake or the ocean? She didn’t have a good sense of the lay of the land here.

  The living room held a fireplace, and she’d spied a stack of wood near the back deck. It took some work to get the stuck flue open, but she managed it, then brought in an armload of wood. A few minutes later she had flames licking at the tinder. The woodsy scent of a fire wafting in the air cheered her immensely.

  While the fire spread its warmth into the chilly room, she inspected the house. The bedroom was small, and the fixtures in the bathroom still looked new, though the brass style came straight from the nineties. A sheet covered the king bed in the bedroom, and she pulled it off to feel the mattress, which seemed to be dry. She found sheets in a big dresser by the door and held them to her nose. While they didn’t smell fresh, they were clean. She changed the sheets and checked the pillows, which were dry as well.

  She could sleep here.

  She went outside to get the few things she’d bought on the way. The whine of a chain saw carried through the trees, and she saw a man cutting up a downed tree twenty feet into the woods. An older woman hovered nearby.

  The man waved. “Hello there.” The roar of the saw cut off, and he set it down, then came toward her with the older woman in tow.

  The woman’s eyes held a vacant stare. Dementia, poor lady. “Bailey Fleming. I just moved in next door.”

  The slightly built dark-skinned man seemed fixated on her dark-purple hair. She’d dyed it to confuse her identity a bit. “Nice to meet you, Bailey. I’m Jermaine Diskin. From the next house over. You probably passed my wife’s lavender farm on the way out here.”

  “Nice to meet you.” The friendly expression in his pale-green eyes and his easy grin settled her hackles.

  “You bought the place?”

  She hesitated. “Just renting for now.” She held out her hand to the woman. “What’s your name?”

  The woman’s white hair curled limply around her face and the straggly ends just brushed her jaw. It could use a good wash. She wore stained gray slacks and a red top that had been buttoned wrong. She angled a blank stare Bailey’s direction and didn’t answer. She was likely in her eighties.

  Jermaine shifted on his feet and looked down. “This is Lily Norman. She lives on the other side of me, and um, she wandered out to see what I was doing.”

  “Does anyone live with her?”

  He shook his head. “She’s lost weight, and I don’t think she’s eating.”

  “Family?”

  “A daughter who lives somewhere out east. I’ve tried to find her number at Lily’s house, but I haven’t been able to locate her.”

  Bailey warmed to the man. He seemed to care about the woman. “I’m a nurse. She has Alzheimer’s?”

  “Probably, though she hasn’t been diagnosed as far as I know. Hey, I could use some help checking on her for the next few weeks. Michelle and I are going on a trip to Hawaii, and I’ve been worrying about leaving Lily alone. No one lives on this road except the three of us. I’d pay you if you’d look in on her and text me occasionally with how she’s doing.”

  She couldn’t tell him no, not looking into the sweet old lady’s face. “You don’t need to pay me. I’d be happy to check on her while I’m here, just to be neighborly.”

  “You rented the place? I’ve wanted to buy it, but it’s in the hands of some kind of holding company, and no one ever answers my emails.”

  Holding company? The deed was clearly in her name. Her thoughts raced. Jermaine would be gone awhile. That might be enough time to dig out the secrets here at this house. “Um, yes, I rented it for a-a couple of months.”

  He brightened. “Great. You’ll love Lily. She’s a sweetheart.”

  If Bailey wanted to figure out what had happened to her mother, she’d have to meet people eventually. “Okay, I’ll need a key.”

  And just like that she was part of the neighborhood, such as it was.

  Downtown Seattle always made King feel a little inconspicuous in a comforting way. No pretense, no pandering staff. Here he was just a businessman striding through the streets with a throng of latte-carrying women and men surging around him. No one knew about the power he wielded. He could order any of them shot and they’d never suspect him of the deed.

  King stepped into a coffee shop and ordered his own latte and a cookie, then settled at a table overlooking the bustling street as he waited for Chey to join him with an update on the situation in Michigan. The coffee was good and strong, the way he liked it, and he took off the lid to let it cool a bit.

  Chey strode down the sidewalk with determined steps. As usual he was expressionless, but a frisson of alarm went up King’s back for some unknown reason. Chey didn’t drink coffee, so the man headed straight to the table when he entered.

  He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Our mission was unsuccessful,” he said quietly.

  “What?” King’s voice reverberated on the tin ceiling, and he moderated his tone as the only other patron glanced their way. “How is that possible?”

  “She escaped during the attack and managed to get out of town. In Roger’s defense, the break-in happened during a blizzard, and she knew her way around. He didn’t.”

  “Where is she now?”

  Chey folded his hands in front of him on the table. “That’s a good question. We found her SUV in Ironwood, Michigan, but she could have gone anywhere from there. It’s along one of the main routes out of the Upper Peninsula. She could have gone to Chicago and east or west.”

  “What vehicle is she driving now?”

  “A white Ford Fiesta.”

  “Plates?”

  “She left the plates on her SUV. We suspect she stole plates along the way.”

  “If she did that, she must know something. Or who she’s up against.” While he would never admit to a raised pulse, the sensation in his chest was definitely that of alarm. A feeling he wasn’t used to. “What are you doing to find her?”

  Chey lifted one brow. “Everything we can, but until we know where she’s headed, our hands are tied. It’s a common vehicle, and we don’t have a plate. We’ve dispersed her description to our network, but it’s going to be difficult to track her down.”

  Incompetents. King pressed his lips together and tamped down his ire. Bailey was a loose cannon. He should have ordered her death at the same time as Olivia’s, but he’d allowed emotion to cloud his judgment. A ludicrous lapse of judgment on his part, but no more.

 
; “I want her dead,” he said through clenched teeth. “Make it happen, Chey.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir, but we might want to make . . . contingency plans.”

  King drew back and looked at his second-in-command. How much did he know? He’d never questioned why Olivia was to be killed, yet he seemed to understand she held some grave importance. He didn’t dare question what Chey knew because it would show weakness.

  “It is not that important. She will be found, and she will be killed. If not, anything she knows is only an embarrassment, nothing more. And it can’t be tied to me anyway.”

  That sounded much too defensive. He took a gulp of his coffee. “The shipment?”

  “We had eight living girls delivered. Two unfortunately did not survive the trip, but they’ve been temporarily put in storage until we can dispose of the bodies.”

  “They should have been tipped into the sea.”

  “There was nothing on hand to weight the bodies. It will be taken care of.”

  He listened as Chey told him of the last haul from the casinos they managed and the take from the last shipment of drugs. Everything else was going well. This would fall in line too. Bailey couldn’t hide forever.

  When Chey left, King drummed his fingers on the table and considered what he knew about Olivia and the advice she might have offered Bailey given the chance. She’d moved quite often over the years, though he’d always kept track of her. They had an agreement, one he’d been careful to honor as long as she had. The problem came when her identity had been uncovered. From there it was a reasonable assumption that everything else would come out too.

  She’d lived for a while in Nashville, then in a small town in Indiana. She’d disappeared for a while in Chicago, but he’d found her in Forest Park. From there she’d gone to Austin, then to Phoenix, and finally to Michigan. Would Bailey run to any of those places? Where had they lived the longest?

  He ran through the years in his mind. Phoenix. They’d lived there for five years. The longest stretch had been during Bailey’s college years. She might have made friends she would run to now.

  He phoned Chey and told him to take a hard look at the Phoenix area and to check out the school Bailey had attended. One piece of information up his sleeve was Bailey’s phone number. He gave that number to Chey as well and told him to call it. If she was as smart as her mother, she would likely have tossed it, but he might get lucky.

  He had another thought and called Chey back. “I’ve changed my mind. Before you kill her, bring her to me. I want to talk to her first. She’s very beautiful—and young. We might want to put her to work instead.”

  “You sure that’s wise?”

  He frowned. “You’re questioning my order, Chey? That’s not a healthy option.”

  “I’ll find her and bring her to you.”

  Chey’s quick backtracking calmed King’s anger but only for a moment. This situation had to be dealt with. Fast.

  Chapter 5

  The afternoon wind off Rainshadow Bay whistled through the trees and snaked down Lance’s back. He put down his binoculars long enough to zip up his jacket. “This is the first time we’ve seen any evidence of the cabin being occupied in three years.”

  Daniel knelt beside him. “Could be a squatter. The power hasn’t been switched back on.”

  The sun gilded the treetops, and he let his gaze linger on the pretty scene. Once upon a time he’d hoped to have a cabin in the woods with Rachel. She’d thrown his ring back at him the third time he’d had to fly out of town for work. To be fair, he’d had to miss his own engagement party that weekend, but it had clearly shown him that she was only in the relationship when things went her way. She’d never really understood the importance of his calling.

  Ava came first and always would.

  Baker Holdings had owned this cabin for twenty years, and three years ago Daniel had discovered the property in an investigation. There’d been evidence that someone ran drugs through here as well as human trafficking, though they’d never made an arrest. Used syringes and bags with traces of drugs had been found in the trash can out back as well as used condoms, but Lance’s supervisor wasn’t convinced the holding company was at fault. According to him, someone could have used an empty house to conduct business, but he’d let Daniel and Lance run with their suspicions.

  Baker Holdings had been formed in Panama, which was the most popular country for creating holding companies, and many of those were fronts to launder money. Baker Holdings hid their activities well, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make a mistake. A neighbor the next mile over had seen woodsmoke curling from the chimney and had reported it to the sheriff, who had called Lance. Maybe it was nothing, but he needed to check it out.

  A white Ford Fiesta sat in the drive, and the cabin’s drapes remained open. The wind brought the scent of smoke his way, and he glimpsed a figure inside outlined by the glow of the fire. He tried to focus his binoculars but the person moved away too quickly.

  “We could go to the door and talk to the occupant,” Daniel said.

  “If we identify ourselves as FBI, it might tip our hand. I’d rather keep an eye out and wait for something to go down.” Lance stood and dropped his binoculars to let them dangle around his neck. “The last time we were here, I noticed the place could use some upkeep. Rot in the back deck, a hole in the roof, and the back door had been busted in so it didn’t fit right. My dad taught me a lot about carpentry. How about I go introduce myself and ask if they’re looking for any help with the place? I can say I’m a neighbor.”

  “If it’s a squatter, you’ll be able to tell right away.”

  Lance nodded. “Right. You cover me.”

  Daniel pulled out his Glock. Lance darted down the street to throw himself belly down on the ground behind a fallen tree. He went to his blue GMC Acadia and slid behind the wheel, then drove it down the road and into the drive. He pasted on a smile as he walked to the door.

  A gust of wind sent woodsmoke into his face, and he coughed as he rapped on the door. There was a slight flurry of movement inside, but he couldn’t see anything. “Hello?”

  The door cracked open, and a young woman stood half revealed in the shadows. Her long purple hair with a striking widow’s peak set off her large green eyes. Her strong bone structure and vivid coloring made her quite memorable. His suspicions flared into overdrive at her appearance though. He’d seen plenty of imprisoned girls with dyed hair over the years.

  “Can I help you?” Her husky voice held a hint of fear.

  Since he was six two, she had to be close to five eight. Even her sloppy sweats didn’t hide her curves, but he made sure to keep eye contact. “Good evening, miss. I’m Lance Phoenix and I live a mile that way.” He tossed a single nod to the west. “I saw the smoke of your fire. Thought I’d welcome you to the neighborhood.”

  Color ran up her neck and lodged in her cheeks. “Th-Thank you. News travels fast around here. I just arrived this afternoon. I didn’t think to get the power turned on, and I had to start a fire for heat. I’ll get the utilities switched on when the office opens.”

  “Be careful with that. The place has sat empty for years, and there might be damage from critters to the wiring.”

  Her eyes went wide. “I smelled some mouse droppings. I’m not sure what to do. I need power.”

  “I’d be happy to take a look at things for you. We like to be neighborly around here.”

  She smiled. “I met the next-door neighbor already. So much neighborliness is a little overwhelming.”

  She didn’t seem like a squatter but a bonafide occupant. “You own this place?”

  The color washed out of her face, and she opened the door a little more. “I’m just staying here for a while.”

  Which wasn’t exactly an answer. Her caginess kept him on high alert, and she still hadn’t told him her name. “I’m Lance, like I said. Lance Phoenix. What’s your name?”

  She bit her lip. “It’s Bailey. Bailey Fleming.”r />
  The name didn’t ring a bell. “It’s too dark to see much tonight, so how about I come back tomorrow and check out the wiring before you get the utilities turned on? Is there anything I can do for you tonight?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just going to bed early. Thanks for your help. I’m happy to pay you.”

  “Just being neighborly, like I said. Sleep well. I’ll come by around eight in the morning if that’s okay.”

  “I appreciate it. I can’t even fix coffee yet.”

  “I’ll bring you some.” He gave her a final grin, then headed back to his SUV.

  He drove off, then stopped to pick up Daniel at the curve in the road where they couldn’t be seen. “I’m not sure what I think about her. She seems innocent enough but didn’t really want to tell me her name, and she was cagey about how she happens to be here. I’ll come by tomorrow to check out her wiring though. Maybe I’ll find out more. She says her name is Bailey Fleming.”

  Daniel fastened his seat belt. “I’ll do some digging into Baker Holdings and see if any Flemings pop up.”

  Shauna Bannister leaned back against her husband’s strong chest as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I wish Grayson would call. Surely he’s found Bailey by now. He arrived in Rock Harbor yesterday.”

  She and Zach had only been married a couple of months, and everything was still new and exciting.

  “It all takes time, honey.” Zach released her and moved to the coffeepot to pour the brew into two mugs. “Maybe she has a lot of questions and they’re talking it all out.”

  “I can’t take it any longer. I’m going to call him. If he’s with Bailey, maybe he’ll put her on the phone so I can talk to her too.” After discovering her brother and sister were still alive, Shauna had them both constantly on her mind. Reuniting with Grayson had been a dream come true, but she longed with everything in her to hold her baby sister again.

  “I don’t blame you. I know you didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “Like not at all.” She called her brother’s number.