Under the Willows

by Pamela McCord

  “It covers a big area. I have an idea, though. I’ll check property records and should be able to find the information I’m looking for. That’ll make it too late to go up there today, so I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “You mean we’ll go up there tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going with me.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” I pointed my finger at him. “It’s because I bought the pendant that Emma told us about Brindleson. You can’t leave me behind.”

  With a clenched jaw, Rob closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “It could get dangerous.”

  “What if I’m willing to risk it?” I said.

  “You have a son. Do you really want to risk your life?”

  That stopped me, but just for a moment. “It wouldn’t be dangerous if we knew Brindleson wasn’t there. Emma said he’s stopped coming. What are the chances he’d be there? Can’t we get a warrant or something?”

  “With what evidence?”

  “Emma said the pendant was hers. We could show it to her parents and—”

  “And tell them a ghost told you it was Emma’s?”

  I didn’t have an argument for that. “I suppose that wouldn’t work. Anyway, you’ll be with me. It should be safe enough. It’s not like I would be facing him alone, even if he was there.”

  He contemplated that for a moment, and I could see him wavering. Finally, he sighed again and nodded.

  “Great,” I said.

  “And me?” a small voice piped up. TJ stood in the doorway. “I want to help find Emma and Marilee.”

  “I thought you wanted to watch TV,” I said.

  “I did, but I really wanted to hear what you guys were talking about. And I want to go with you.”

  I exchanged glances with Rob. “I don’t think so, honey. Sorry, but it’s not a good idea.”

  “Aw, Mom.” He humphed and crossed his arms to display his unhappiness at my words. “I’m not a little kid.”

  “You’re right. You’re kind of a medium kid. But I’m still not taking you on what could be a long, difficult trip.”

  “I don’t even want your mom to go,” Rob added, “but she’s stubborn.”

  He gave me a rueful look. “I need to get back to the office. I’ve got some digging to do.”

  “I need to see if I can get someone to stay with TJ. I’ll call Megan.”

  “Good. I’ll call you later with details for tomorrow.”

  Punching in the babysitter’s number, I hesitated. I didn’t want TJ to be in the house without me, now that Mr. Brindleson knew about him. It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. Instead, I called Melissa, Kevin’s mom, and arranged to drop TJ off in the morning. I owed her big time for coming through for me again.

  Rob called after I’d sent my son up to bed. TJ was still bunking in my room, for both of our sakes.

  “I checked property records and found the lot where Brindleson’s cabin is probably located. At least, the property his father left him. It’s on Clarion Lake.”

  “That’s really, really promising,” I said. “We might find her!”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. Nothing is certain. And, even if we do find her, she might not—”

  “Don’t say it. We can’t go there. I’m going to believe we’ll be in time. When are you coming by tomorrow?”

  “Let’s make it nine. Wear hiking boots.”

  “I got the memo last time,” I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll wear my hiking boots.”

  Chapter 25

  O

  B

  y the time Rob’s truck pulled into my driveway the next morning, I’d stuffed my backpack with extra clothes and other items we might need and packed an ice chest with bottles of water and Gator Ade and sandwiches.

  Rob carted the ice chest to his SUV and settled it in the back. When he picked up my backpack, he gave an exaggerated oof and asked what I had in there.

  “Baby food,” I said.

  He looked at me quizzically.

  “If we find her, I wanted to have something to feed her. I’m not sure she could eat anything solid. Gatorade is because it has electrolytes.”

  He gave me a thumbs-up and a smile, tossed my backpack in the backseat and held the passenger door open for me.

  “How far is Clarion Lake?” I asked.

  “It’ll take us about two and a half to three hours to get there.”

  I shivered in anticipation, anxious to get on the road. “It’s going to work,” I said.

  “Your lips to God’s ears,” he responded, giving my hand a squeeze.

  The sun was blazing when we got to the lake a little before noon. The closer we got to our destination, the more excited we both were, in spite of trying to keep our expectations under control.

  When the turnoff for Brindleson’s cabin came into view, Rob pulled off the road and we approached on foot.

  There was an old Blazer parked next to the cabin. Rob motioned for me to stay back, to which I made a face, but did as he asked. He moved silently through the trees until he reached the back of the cabin. Fortunately, there were no windows along that wall. Then, with his back against the side of the structure, he peered around the corner, but pulled back quickly as Brindleson appeared, carrying something wrapped in a sheet toward his boat.

  I appeared at Rob’s elbow. He started to shush me, then nodded toward Brindleson who was approaching the dock in front of his cabin.

  “Mr. Brindleson, is that you?” I moved out into the open with a wave, hoping he read my expression as being surprised to see him.

  He whipped toward me, his mouth open, and took a quick hop off the dock into his boat, struggling with the unwieldy bundle he carried.

  It slipped from his arms to the floor of the boat and Rob stepped up beside me, gun held down at his side. He pointed at the bundle with his other hand.

  “What’s in the boat?” Rob asked.

  Brindleson spun around. “What are—”

  “I heard a rumor you had a nice cabin up here on the lake. I thought I’d come check it out. So, what did you put in the boat?”

  “It’s none of your concern,” he spat. “Unless you have a warrant, you have no business on my land.”

  “Do you have something to hide?” Rob asked, stepping in front of me.

  “I’m not hiding anything, and unless you have a warrant, get off my property.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  The bundle in the boat moved slightly. Rob’s attention was drawn to it and away from Brindleson, giving the mailman the opportunity to pull a gun from the back of his waistband.

  “Rob, look out!” I screamed. Startled, Brindleson swung toward me and fired. The force of the bullet spun me around. My feet flew out from under me and I hit the ground hard, sucking in my breath as the searing pain in my shoulder radiated through my body. Rob shouted my name, and I heard more shots. I felt lightheaded but pushed to my feet, needing to get to him, my arm hanging limply at my side, blood dripping from my fingertips. They were scuffling in the dirt beside the dock, Brindleson straddling Rob and fighting for control of his gun.

  “Rob!” I yelled, racing toward the two men. Brindleson punched Rob hard in the face and jerked the gun free.

  I barreled into him the moment he aimed the gun at Rob’s face, knocking him off Rob before he could fire. The gun skittered away and I struggled to hold Brindleson down as Rob scrambled to his knees and dove for the gun. Brindleson shoved me off, but Rob reached the gun an instant before Brindleson did. He stood and trained it on the mailman, then stooped to pull me up.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his worry. “You’re bleeding.”

  “So are you,” I said, noticing the bloom of red soaking his T-shirt.

  “I’m okay. Go check the boat.”

  Reluctantly, I pulled my eyes away from him and, cradling my wounded arm, leaped into the boat and dropped next to the bundle, feeling movement when I
touched it. Pulling aside the sheet, I found an unconscious child, pale and limp. I bent to check whether she was breathing.

  “I have her!” I called. “She’s alive, but I’m not sure for how long.” Gritting my teeth at the pain in my shoulder, I scooped her into my arms, standing bracing my feet against the bobbing of the boat. I carefully stepped back onto the dock, and laid her down. I held two fingers against her neck, feeling for a pulse, and was alarmed by its weakness.

  “I need you to get me a rope out of the truck,” Rob called after giving me a couple of minutes with the frail child. “I need to secure Brindleson. Do you think you can you leave her for a minute?”

  I looked back and forth between him and the child, calculating whether she’d be okay if I left her. Gently touching her face, I murmured to her that I’d be right back, I rushed to the truck and grabbed the rope for Rob. He handed me the gun and told me to cover him while he tied Brindleson up. I didn’t have much experience with a firearm, but I’d seen a lot of movies so I managed to look competent until Rob finished.

  Handing him back the gun, I grabbed a bottle of water and a Gatorade from the truck and rushed back to the little girl I’d left lying on the dock.

  I heard Rob calling for backup and an ambulance as I cradled the child, smoothing her hair and speaking softly to her. She didn’t respond, and I poured a little of the water on my hand and patted her face with it, hoping it would revive her. Kneeling in the dust of the dock, I raised her up with one arm and held the bottle of Gatorade to her lips and tipped it up slightly. At first, the liquid ran down both sides of her closed mouth, but then her lips worked and a little made it in. She seemed to savor the sip, but when she tried to swallow she sputtered and coughed.

  Rob knelt beside us, and I was aware of him grimacing in pain with every move he made. My heart clenched, but Marilee’s need was greater at the moment.

  He leaned her forward and rubbed her back gently, which seemed to rouse her.

  “Marilee,” he said. “You’re safe now. I’m a policeman. Can you hear me?”

  She didn’t respond and he called her name again. And then her arms went around his neck and she sunk against him. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’re safe,” Rob told her. “We’re here to take you home.”

  She pulled her arms in close, tucked her hands up under her chin, and curled closer to him but didn’t speak.

  “Can you try to drink some Gatorade?” he asked. She lifted her head and looked at the bottle I held out to her. She moved her head toward the bottle and I held it while she took a few tentative sips. Letting Rob take over, I went back to the truck for the baby food and a spoon.

  In the background, Brindleson shouted and threatened to sue. Rob growled a shut up and made a threat or two of his own. Worry about Marilee made it easy to tune out the mailman’s rantings.

  The child was filthy, and the stench of myriad bodily fluids floated in the air. I wanted to cry at the horrors she’d endured as I knelt beside the two of them, twisting open the jar. “If you can eat a little of this, it’ll help you get stronger,” I said. I scooped a spoonful of the banana mush and she opened her mouth just enough for me to insert the spoon, but she seemed too weak to take it off the spoon. I pulled it out of her mouth, gently scraping a tiny amount of the banana mixture off the spoon against her top teeth, then stroking her throat to help her swallow, which she finally did. But she turned her face away, back against Rob’s chest. She refused any more attempts to get her to drink or eat, and all we could do was hold her and keep her calm until the ambulance arrived, followed closely by a couple of police units.

  Chapter 26

  O

  I

  felt profound relief at the sound of sirens. An ambulance crunched gravel under its tires as it ground to a stop near the dock. Cops and paramedics gathered around Marilee, who was still cradled in Rob’s arms, gently separating the little girl and allowing Rob to stand. One of the paramedics expressed concern about the blood on Marilee, but I assured him it was Rob’s blood. Two of the police officers took custody of Brindleson, bundling him into the back of one of the cruisers after determining he wasn’t injured, while another officer conferred with Rob. The paramedics lifted Marilee onto a gurney and did a check of her vitals, pronouncing her dehydrated and malnourished. They started a fluid IV drip and loaded her into the ambulance. When the paramedics attempted to tend to me and Rob, we insisted they get Marilee to the hospital and worry about us after she was taken care of. They weren’t having it and said that, until we let them check us out, they couldn’t leave. Rob told them in no uncertain terms he’d already let dispatch know there was an officer down and another ambulance was en route. He said more police were on the way to secure the crime scene.

  “Look, you’re wasting time. My wound isn’t life-threatening, but Marilee’s in a lot worse shape than I am, or Kelly is. We’ll be okay here until the other ambulance arrives. You need to get that little girl to the hospital now.”

  He held up his hand to ward off the argument he could see coming. The lead paramedic shook his head in exasperation and pulled a supply of bandages and alcohol wipes out of the back of the ambulance and shoved them at Rob. “Put some pressure on that wound so you don’t bleed out,” he said, slamming the door. “I hope you know what you’re doing. It’s on you, man.”

  “Do you think—” I started, concerned about Rob’s condition, but he cut me off.

  “I’m fine for now. Can you do a quick and dirty patch job?”

  His face was pale and he swayed on his feet as he watched the ambulance back out of the driveway and pull away once it hit the main road. He breathed in sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as a spasm of pain shook him. His arm went around my shoulders. At first I thought it was to comfort me, but when I felt him slump against me I realized he needed me to hold him up. The red stain on the bottom front of his shirt was spreading. I lowered him down to the dock and sat beside him. When I tried to lift up his T-shirt, he stopped me. “I’m okay.” He touched my hand. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

  His hands were covered in blood. “You’re not okay,” I said.

  “For now, I am. I’ve been shot before, and I can tell this one is fixable. It’s just super painful.”

  He did seem like he was rallying, and color was coming back into his face. “It hurts like a bitch, though,” he said, with a short laugh.

  The laugh calmed me down. He was strong. Maybe I didn’t need to be afraid for him. But I took the bandages and wipes from him and ripped one of the packages of gauze open. I waved his hand away when he tried to stop me from using it to slow the bleeding. He finally dropped his arms and let me do it. “Happy now?” he had the nerve to ask.

  “I will be once the other ambulance gets here.” I picked up one of his hands and put it on the bandage so he could keep the pressure on the wound.

  I picked up the discarded wrapper for the gauze from the dock beside me and crumpled it into a ball. Suddenly, unexpectedly, reality set in and hit me like a ton of bricks and I started to hyperventilate.

  “Are you okay?” Rob asked, his voice rising in alarm. “Come on. We can drive ourselves to the hospital.” He stood carefully and offered his hand to help me up, but I shook my head so he sat back down on the dock beside me. “What is it?”

  I gulped in a breath, trying to stop the trembling that had taken over my body. He rubbed my good arm, worry plastered all over his face. “What is it?” he asked again.

  “Rob.” I gulped again. “Rob, if we’d been five minutes later . . . five minutes . . . we wouldn’t have been in time. If I’d drug my feet getting TJ to his friend’s house, if we’d stopped for gas. So many things could have gone wrong.”

  “But they didn’t. We were in time. Marilee is safe. We saved her.”

  I heard his words, but wasn’t comforted. The what ifs swirled in my head. Silent tears coursed down my cheeks, and Rob hovered, looking helpless. Fi
nally, he put his arm around me and I buried my face in his chest, my hiccupping sobs releasing all the fear and anguish I’d been holding in.

  When I stopped shaking, he held me away from him, careful of my wounded arm.

  “I feel the same horror that we could have been too late. But I can’t give in to that horror. Kelly, it can haunt you if you let it. We saved that little girl. You and I did that. You need to focus on that and be content that things turned out the way they did. This was a good day.”

  I looked at him without speaking for a moment, and shuddered as I shook off the shroud of gloom that had settled over me. “Okay. I’m okay now.” I stood and gathered up the bandages. “Let me clean up that wound.” After a moment, he got to his feet and followed me into Brindleson’s cabin.

  One of the officers from the second police unit stood on the porch. He put up a hand to stop us, but the determined look I gave him caused him to back down, with an admonition that it was a crime scene. Rob assured him he’d make sure we were careful.

  The door wasn’t locked and inside blinds at the windows were drawn closed, leaving the interior dim. Opening the blinds, I was surprised to find the cabin was meticulously tidy. Not what I would have expected given what Brindleson probably used the cabin for. I motioned for Rob to follow me to the kitchen, pulling out a chair for him.

  He was starting to look pale again. The blood on the front of his shirt had spread and was soaking into his jeans, and I felt an urgency to stop the bleeding before he passed out. The piece of gauze had fallen off somewhere between the dock and the kitchen. I tried as gently as I could to pull his T-shirt off over his head, but I could tell the motion hurt him, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.

  “We shouldn’t be in here,” he said. “This is a crime scene.”

  “I heard the cop outside, but I don’t care if it’s a crime scene. You’re losing blood and I need to do something about that.”

  He protested, but weakly. I washed my hands in the sink, rinsing the blood from my shoulder down the drain. It still seeped, but I wouldn’t think about that now.