* * *
Lily yawned and coughed a little in the smoky room. Ever since she’d woken in Kingston’s cabin to the sight of Ole’s face, edgy prickles crawling along her skin screamed to return to the safety of Cameron’s place, like she was now, only alone with him and the dogs. Though she was peeved at his refusal to answer her at the moment. Sven and Ole were making her crazy, and Forbes gave her the heebie-jeebies. Cam didn’t seem comfortable sharing whatever news with his house full of people, no matter he’d invited them all. She shivered and Iago moved his head from her lap to her shoulder. Kingston was probably dead, and they’d never learn why he’d practically kidnapped her. The thought that maybe someone grabbed him and left her unconscious and alone creeped her out.
“It’s just smoke, you big baby,” Ole chided his brother.
“Yeah, well, it could be worse. You know I never trusted woodstoves since Molly burned—”
“She didn’t know what she was doing. This is different.”
“I hate smoke. Where there’s—”
“Cut it out!” Lily called to them and started coughing.
“There you go,” Ole said. “Lemme get you a drink.”
“I’ll get it,” Cam said. “Glad we didn’t need the fire extinguisher after all.” He gave her an eye roll before he went to the kitchen.
Forbes stood in the middle of the room, arms folded, staring at the woodstove like it might start spouting secrets any second. Lear got up and paced a circle.
Cam returned with the water, which he handed to her, letting their hands touch. She shivered again, but this time with the warmth and comfort of his skin. Her earlier misgivings vanished when he rescued her. Chivalry was not dead, thank heaven. But still…she’d better not get all moony-eyed over someone who thought her a nuisance. Or a Rosalind who could play both sides of the fence and was strong, though fainted at the sight of blood. She couldn’t see Cameron as Orlando, after she’d sneaked a read at As You Like It while he’d been out. She had to look at several plays before finding her character namesake. She grinned at herself. Her? Anyway, she’d made herself memorize a few lines, like the one about meeting a fool in the forest, and “Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see no enemy but winter and rough weather.” It was rough weather, all right. “All the world’s a stage.” So that’s where that quote came from. Cameron must have taught Shakespeare, since he’d had so many books about the bard’s works.
She watched him through half-closed eyes while he worked on clearing the room, fanning air through the door and window.
“We should warm up again pretty quickly,” he said. “I overheard something at the diner earlier I wanted to tell Forbes.”
Lily felt sleepy but pinched herself to force her attention back to Cameron. Did it have to do with Kenny?
“My insurance guy, Rune Johnston, was sitting with another man I didn’t recognize at Lou’s. It was kind of loud in there and I didn’t catch it all, but when I heard them say something about the Limms, I started listening closer.”
Cameron leaned forward, elbows on knees, and twisted his hands together. “The Limms are neighbors, sort of, out here.”
“Yeah, they own the section,” Sven said.
Lily ignored Sven and eyed the agent, whose face remained impassive. She couldn’t tell if he knew about them and their company or not. She still wasn’t completely clear on what spies were doing around Barter Valley. The whole thing was surreal, and she was betting she’d wake up in the morning and none of it would have happened. Cameron would be holding down his favorite chair with a book in one hand, looking all serious and cute, mussed up, as he turned the pages, and she’d be reading Bonnie’s diary…
“…disappearances.”
“What?” Lily sat up. “What did you say? Who’s disappeared?”
“We’re just talking, Lily. Calm down.” Ole’s big Nordic face with his round cheeks and stubby nose loomed toward hers and she pulled back. “We’re not letting anyone hurt you.” He sent a hard glance at Cameron. “Again.”
“Go on,” Forbes said to Cameron.
“I was debating whether to mention the damage to my car to the insurance company.” Cameron looked a little sheepish. “You know, the rates always go up.” He half-grinned at her. “But later, while I was waiting around for Sven, I stopped in after I followed him back to the office. We got to talking about computer stuff, not sure how we got on that subject, but he started jabbering about this program one of the guys in his office worked up. Some sort of school internship project that worked out.”
“Go on,” Forbes said, after Cameron paused. Sven and Ole were quieter than Lily expected. Sven put on his thoughtful face, with his eyes narrowed, while Ole petted Iago, sweet thing, who hadn’t left her side.
“Yeah, well, this program uses some sort of algorithm. Don’t ask him what that means, me either…anyway, it somehow tracks police reports of accidents in areas where they have coverage compared to non-covered insureds—that’s what they call their clients—and not only accidents but other reports, like fires, vandalism. And missing persons.”
“So?” Sven asked.
“So, it was meant to figure if the company could expand into other areas of the country with needs for their types of insurance policies. The kid also did some programming to figure out how many claims were false, you know. Turns out he also picked up on some pattern of claims about missing persons.”
“Claims? Like what? On behalf of the missing?” Forbes asked. He’d crossed one ankle over a knee and sat stiffly, arms folded, in the straight-back chair. Lily thought he looked dangerous, very secret-agentish, if there was such a thing. She wasn’t sure she could like him or trust him, but by watching Cameron talk to him, she got the notion they were warming up to each other.
“Johnston didn’t say, and I didn’t want to push him, but it might be worth your time to find him.”
“It might be helpful to see what kind of patterns he was referring to,” Forbes replied. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, okay, interesting.” Lily was exhausted and crabby, sure she’d never sleep well unless she knew what happened to Kenny. “Cameron, did you or did you not learn anything about my sister and my nephew today?” She looked around the room. “Anybody? Have you heard anything?”
THIRTY-NINE
A couple of hours after he hit Jenner, Art sat in lock up, thinking about how a guy could see that much of his own blood on someone else and still be alive. Jenner had naturally elbowed him back, there in the conference room, though he’d stopped short of actually using his fists or kicking.
Lucky elbow smashed Art’s nose, causing a fountain of blood to spew. Cripes, oh cripes. With it already busted good, this time they took him to a doctor, who reset and packed it. He’d rather go to the dentist without funny gas. Art touched his schnoz now, or at least he thought he did. He couldn’t feel a thing, and his eyes were swollen too. He probably looked like a pumpkin.
He sat on a bench in the cell, mouth-breathing, knuckles stinging where he’d grazed them on Jenner’s belt. Every time he closed his lids, he saw Maury Limm and wanted to vomit. He prayed a jail cell was safe enough to keep the Limms away. Once Slent came, he planned to tell everyone in range what he knew. But not the Roman part. He decided he’d tell them the plan was Gruesome Gruden’s. No one at work liked him anyway.
If only Slent would at least call back. He blinked at the door. Would they tell him if he did? Art slid down so he was on his back, with his legs dangling over. Some drunk snored next door, the sound echoing off the linoleum around the little blocked-off area. Art had never been incarcerated, for all he’d worked inside the pen practically since high school. Would this arrest mean he couldn’t get his old job back?
Keys rattled at the door, and a lady cop stood there, clipboard in hand. “Townsend. Got some papers for you to sign.”
“I ain’t signing nothing without my lawyer.”
“This isn’t about you.”
Moron, A
rt heard her add without using the words.
“So what is it,” he said.
“Something about next of kin. I didn’t read it.”
“What does that mean?”
“I told you, I didn’t read it. Come over here, nice and slow, and sign.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Roger’s right behind me, so you don’t need to get cocky.”
Art squinted and immediately wished he hadn’t. Ow. He got to his feet by inches, partly because he was sore and tired and partly to annoy her. “If I sign, can I get some food? I haven’t had anything to eat all day.”
Lady cop pursed her chubby lips. “We don’t run an all-night kitchen.”
Art stopped.
Lady cop sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Another thing. Have you heard from my lawyer?”
“I’m not an answering machine.”
“Just checking to be sure you’re not ignoring my rights.” Art took her pen and signed where she pointed. “And yes, I do like ketchup with it.”
She glared, snatched the pen, and left, locking the door with as much key-rattling as possible.
Art went back to the bench, stretched out, and smiled. He was warm, he’d get fed, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the Limms. Not bad.
* * *
Even Ole had clamped his lips tight and took off, nodding, almost sympathy reflecting in his pale blue eyes. Cam wished he were one of the boys, leaving, too, so he wouldn’t have to be the only one left, so it wouldn’t be time to tell her about the boy. Forbes was the last one, talking quietly to Lily, but he had his coat on. Cam watched while he set his business card on the end table, patted her shoulder, and turned toward the front door.
Iago and Lear slurped water in the kitchen.
“I’ll be in touch,” Forbes said, shook hands, and left, following the twins back to town.
It was a dark night, all right. Cam held the door for the dogs, who shot outside. He stood a moment longer, praying for the right words. There were none, really, for he didn’t have enough information to comfort, or the truth to tell. Perhaps he could call Matt again. He glanced inside. Lily plucked at the fresh gauze on two of her fingers as she lay there. A pool of light from the lantern spilled across her hair, gilding it. He shut the door and met the depth of her stare, part afraid, part defiant.
Maybe he should call Iago back.
Maybe he should quit stalling.
“Just tell me,” Lily demanded. She sat up and put her feet on the floor, gingerly, and tossed the blanket aside.
He sat beside her and, for the first time, put his arm around her shoulders and welcomed her face against his chest. He couldn’t look at her. “Two boys were found hiding in an abandoned car late this afternoon, I heard from Matt. They were suffering from severe hypothermia and taken to the hospital.”
Cam felt her shudder and sniff. “The twins knew about this, didn’t they?”
“Probably just one of them.” He touched her hair, stroked along the side of her face. “But he can’t say anything.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Lily’s chin wobbled. “They’re too good at that part. They talk about everyone else…” She sniffled again. “What happened? Where’s my sister? Why didn’t she call me?”
“Matt from the newspaper office—he’s my contact.” Cam paused to collect his thoughts. “He learned one of the boys…one is in a coma, not who…” He rushed on now to get the words out. “The other is still critical, and they hadn’t notified their immediate families at the time we found out, and they weren’t giving names.”
She cringed. “So you’re not sure? It might not be Kenny.”
“It might not be.” He continued to soothe her hair, the rim of her ear.
“He’s at the hospital? Do they know how…can they work on patients like…him? That place is so small. They probably don’t have the right equipment. With the storm…” She moved, halfheartedly. “Where’s Berta? Did you go out there?”
“I did, but no one was at the trailer. I talked to some other kids. No one is talking.”
“They would have called me. From the hospital. They know me, our situation,” she said. “But my phone… I should go. But…how…”
“Sven left his truck for us to use. If you really think you’re okay.”
She started crying. Cam rubbed her cheeks, but the tears only came faster. “Come. I’ll drive. Take a deep breath. You don’t want him seeing you like that. We can get someone to check you out while you’re there.” Her hands closed around his, still locked around her warm and vulnerable face.
“No, no, no,” she said. “He’s the one who’s…he’s…”
She breathed out and let her eyes drift closed, and Lord help him, he needed to kiss her, to comfort them both.
And so he did.
* * *
Cam clenched the hard steering wheel of Sven’s pickup, fighting the smell of old frying oil and the remembered pressure of Lily’s lips against his. He stopped himself from touching her as she sat to his right, to make sure she was still there. She insisted on walking outside to get into the truck. “I’ve had enough of being hauled around like a side of beef,” she’d said, but smiled to show she was no longer scared to death.
They’d have to talk about the kiss sometime. For his part, he’d never been so frightened and relieved…and worried about another person, since seeing the police on his doorstep, hats in their hands, after Laura’s accident. Could he trust God not to let that happen again?
Lily started and stopped asking questions the first five agonizing miles. “How long…” “Where…” “And no one…?”
He couldn’t answer any of them, save one—where.
“The Frosts?” she asked out loud, musing. “Why there? But…a stolen car.”
Cam squirmed, debating how much she’d hate him once he confessed. “Um.”
“What?”
Her smile in the dashboard lights made him forget to breathe. Choking on spit, he coughed and cleared his throat. “Uh, Lily, please understand. I had no idea. How could I?”
Her eyes still trusted him when he looked away from the road long enough to check. Clouds covered any moonlight on this night, and the ice made the way slick. “They got out of town somehow—I can’t even begin to figure it out. And they had to have found the Jeep.”
“In the Frost’s driveway? They’re summer people. But they’re not that far… Jeep? What Jeep?”
“I…it was…they, um, got into it after I…I, ah, ditched it in this driveway, or…somehow—”
“Wait a minute! You’re telling me those boys were found by Art’s…Art’s… Oh, my Lord. But…but…”
“It’s one of those coincidences you can’t make up. I believe it.” He shook his head again, too, at the incredulity of it.
“So, maybe they were running away? But…and no one ID’d the other boy?” Hopefulness ringed the doubt.
“I don’t know what happened.”
“But why did you leave the Jeep outside of town like that? You didn’t tell me that.”
“Nope. I was too busy rescuing you.” He turned on the signal and pulled up to the glass doors at the medical center’s front entry. The lab people wouldn’t have had time to do anything with the blood work. He’d still try to find time to ask although it was late, after nine, and probably in a place this small, closed. At least he could encourage anyone on duty to get to it. He mentally reviewed a few of the things Findley mentioned a couple of days ago—mushrooms always coming to the forefront. But she’d be dead if he’d fed her bad ones…
“Let me get a wheelchair,” he said.
“Cam, no. I don’t want—”
“What? To leave a trail of blood wherever you shuffle? You think no one’s going to notice that, huh?” He slammed the door harder than he meant to, and by the time he’d explained to the night duty staffer that he didn’t have an emergency, and no, thank you, was not bringing his wife in labor, and was
not trying to steal the thing, he’d wheeled a short-backed faded blue chair to the passenger side.
“Dude! That’s Sven’s truck!” a kid in scrubs said when he followed Cam out into the cold.
“Yeah, so it is.” Cam opened the door for Lily, who rubber-necked curiously between the kid and Cam. He tried to tuck a blanket around her knees and received a scorching nonverbal reprimand to match the steely hand that pushed it away.
“So, where’s our baddest EMT?” the kid asked. “How come you got his wheels?”
Cam sincerely hoped the man child wasn’t doing more than emptying bed pans at the medical center. “He lent me the truck tonight.” He pushed Lily through the doors, held open by Mike, identified by the nametag. “Thanks for your assistance, Mike.”
“Dude.”
“Uh, we’re here to find out some information on a patient.”
“Oh, sure, over here.” He hustled across the wide two-story entry, his plastic footwear squeaking on the bare floor. “You family?” He raised a brow, as if doubting Cam would have family in the area.
“I am,” Lily said firmly and said thanks, dismissing the boy.
Cam shook his head and bent low over Lily’s hair. “You hope and hope not.”
She bit her lips.
“Sorry.”
There was a bell at the front desk, which Cam popped and retreated from. The area was quiet, only half-lit, and smelled as waiting rooms usually did, of fear, hope, and pain. A woman dressed in a pastel-swatched uniform top and baby blue scrub pants came padding in from somewhere in the back. She looked tired and not in a happy-to-oblige mood.
“Yes?”
Cam let Lily do the talking and stood back, out of the way.
“I’m Lily Masters. I think—I think my nephew, Kenny Masters, is here. Can you check for me, please?”
She clicked a computer screen to life and studied it. “I don’t see your name on the visitor list or as a responsible party,” she said.
Lily’s mouth went straight. “Is he here?”
“Ma’am, I can’t divulge that information.”
“I’m his aunt. His mother is my sister. Can you call her?”
Understory Page 18
