by Dana Mentink
She smiled and gave him a shrug. “I’m just a veterinarian detective, Brent. How should I know the answer to that?”
He did not smile. “I think it’s because I’ve known you.”
She blinked, floored by his words. “I’m no kind of a role model.”
“Yes, you are. You’re grieving, hurt, scared, angry, but you still turn to God and thank Him for your blessings even when He says no to your prayers.”
She felt as though her heart would burst that Brent Mitchell had somehow, someway, been drawn closer to God because of her.
“Two-way street,” she managed. “I was having a real hard time letting Christmas joy in this year until you lent a hand.”
He smiled, lifting the shadows from his careworn face for a moment. “Yeah, me and my mad gingerbread skills. I told you I was a genius.”
She laughed.
“Anyway,” he said, “I know we aren’t going to be seeing much of each other anymore, but I wanted to make sure I told you that.”
Her joy drifted away. He would return to his life, better for having known her and encountering the grace of God, but his journey would not include Donna. It was the truth she’d known and dreaded, and now she could not ignore it any longer.
“I’m glad for you.” She pushed out the words, lips stinging with the effort.
His phone buzzed and he answered. As he listened, something changed on his face. It was as if the light inside him had been extinguished by whatever words he’d just heard.
She put down her cup and braced herself for what she was about to hear.
“Thank you,” he said before hanging up.
“Brent, what’s wrong?”
His eyes were wild, tormented. He pushed by her, jogging to the deck, where he clasped the wet rail between whitened fingers.
“What is it?”
He breathed hard. “I thought I’d be ready for it.”
Dread surged through her body, prickling her skin. She put a palm on his back, feeling his muscles rigid with tension.
“It was Ridley. They found something else at Kinsey’s campsite.”
She held her breath.
“Pauline’s scarf.” He swallowed with a gulping sound. “It’s got her hair fibers on it...and her blood.”
Donna’s heart broke for him. He turned and she embraced him, his tears mingling with hers.
TWENTY
Donna could only breathe silent prayers an hour later after Brent lapsed into silence, his raging, the pouring out of memories and fear, subsiding into stillness. She managed to lead him inside and get him to sit down. He slumped on the bench seat. She sat next to him, holding his hand until he dozed. After he’d worked a twenty-four-hour shift and learned about Ridley’s grisly find, she could not blame him. At least sleep provided an escape, if only for a moment.
She could not resist passing her fingers over his hair, tracing his profile, memorizing every detail of him, from the tiny scar on his cheekbone to the full curve of his lower lip. Those would be the details she would call up from her memory after Brent had walked out of her life for good. She got up to search for a blanket to cover him when her phone vibrated. She moved away to keep from waking Brent. “Hello?”
There was a high-pitched rapid-fire voice on the other end of the line.
“It’s two more weeks until Christmas,” she finally made out.
“Harvey? Is that you?”
“Miss Pauline always comes two weeks before the festival to help me pick out my Christmas Eve sweater. It’s night and she hasn’t come.”
“I’m sorry, Harvey. Miss Pauline, um... She isn’t back from her trip yet. Would you like me to come over and help you pick out something to wear?”
Brent appeared at her elbow, gesturing for her to let him hear. She put it on speakerphone.
“It’s two weeks before,” he said. “She always helps me.”
She struggled to find the words. “Harvey, there’s a chance that Miss Pauline has had some trouble and won’t be able to come.”
“Trouble?” More silence. “Maybe you should call the number.”
“What number?”
“The number from the person who called.”
“Called when?”
“The day she left on her trip. I answered the phone for her because she was bathing Radar. She said he’d gotten mixed up with a skunk. Radar can be naughty.”
“Harvey,” Donna said firmly, “I’m going to come over right now and help you pick out your sweater and you can tell me all about that number, okay?”
There was a long pause. “Can you bring Radar?”
“Yes, of course.”
Donna disconnected. Brent was already reaching for his wallet and keys.
“Harvey could be confused,” Donna said.
“Right,” Brent said. His face blazed with a dangerous mixture of grief and something else. “I’ll drive this time.”
She didn’t argue.
* * *
Harvey kept his eyes on Radar, who was thrilled to bask in his undivided attention. Brent knew he was too keyed up to handle the questioning and he was grateful that Donna took charge.
“Harvey, you were holding Pauline’s phone when she was bathing Radar and someone called. Do you remember the number?”
Harvey rattled it off. “Miss Pauline told me not to answer, so the caller left a message.”
Donna kept her voice soft. “Harvey, do you know what the message was?”
He avoided looking at them, brushing the dog in fast, even strokes.
“We need to know what the caller said. It’s important.”
Harvey shook his head.
“It was not a nice caller, was it?”
He shook his head.
“Please, Harvey. Tell us what the person said.”
Harvey’s lips twitched. “He asked if she got the roses and they cost a lot, more than twenty dollars. He said that she was a bad little girl for ignoring him and she should listen to him.”
Donna jerked as if she’d been slapped.
Bad little girl. A cold wave swept over Brent and he caught the terror on Donna’s face. “Those were his exact words, Harvey?”
Harvey nodded.
Brent went for the door. Donna told Harvey she would be back tomorrow to help him pick out a Christmas sweater. Harvey pleaded with her to let Radar stay and Donna gave in. “Just for a little while, okay, Harvey? Keep him inside with you. I’ll call Mr. Carpenter and let him know. I’m sure he’ll say yes since it’s Miss Pauline’s dog.”
Donna hopped in as Brent gunned the engine.
“I’ll call the police,” she said, dialing.
He didn’t answer as he fought the urge to stomp on the gas pedal.
“Will Harvey’s statement be enough to bring Darius in?”
“No, not unless they can find Pauline’s cell phone or Ridley feels there’s enough to the story to get a warrant to search Darius’s phone records.”
“Brent,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “This is a bad idea, going to see him. Darius is crazy.”
“He’s going to tell me where my sister is,” he said through gritted teeth.
“We should let the police handle it.”
He pushed the car faster until they arrived at Darius’s shop. It was nearly seven, but a light shone in the front office.
“Stay in the car and wait for Ridley.” He didn’t wait for her answer before he was pushing through the front door.
Darius looked up from the cardboard box he was packing. “Sorry, pal. If you’re looking for a whale-watching trip, you’ll have to look elsewhere. I’m out of business.”
Brent got right up in his face. “You’re gonna tell me what you did to my siste
r.”
Donna raced through the door.
“Are we back to that? I told you I didn’t know her hardly at all.”
Brent slammed a palm on the box. Darius didn’t flinch but something flickered to life in his eyes. “You did. You sent her flowers. You called her cell.”
Fran raced in. “What is going on?”
Brent hardly noticed. “Your devoted fiancé called my sister and left a threatening message on her phone.”
For a split second, fear stoked in Darius’s eyes. Then he relaxed. “And I suppose you’ve got proof of that?”
Brent pressed closer. “That’s why you’re packing, isn’t it? You’re going to run because things are starting to spiral out of control. The proof is coming out.”
“Packing?” Fran said. “We weren’t going to move until next year, Darius. You promised.”
“Not now, Frannie,” he snapped.
Her mouth clamped shut, her cheeks flushing red.
“You loved Pauline, and she didn’t want anything to do with you,” Donna said. “That’s what happened, isn’t it? She hurt your pride, brushed you off.”
“So what?” Darius said. “So what if she did? Little stuck-up number like that thinks I’m not good enough for her? Doesn’t want to hang out with a guy who smells like sweat and scrubs decks for a living?”
Fran clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Yeah,” Brent said, fury rising in his gut. “She’d never go for a guy like you.”
“No,” Darius spat. “She’d spend every waking moment, every single second, worrying about some strung-out addict. Your sister was a bleeding heart, a stupid little girl. College degree, fancy house, too highbrow for the likes of me.”
“I guess I’m just the lowbrow second choice,” Fran said. “Is that it?”
“Darius has treated you badly, too, Fran,” Brent said. “Running around after other women while he’s engaged. What a prize.”
Darius glared at Brent. “But now your sister’s gone, isn’t she? Stupid girl. Stupid, silly little girl is just plain gone and it’s eating you up.” He laughed.
Brent’s vision went fuzzy and he dived for Darius. They tumbled over backward. He was vaguely aware of Ridley slamming through the door, followed by Marco two seconds later.
Marco hauled Brent to his feet and Ridley did the same with Darius.
Fury still boiled in his veins and he nearly ripped himself out of Marco’s grasp. “He killed my sister,” he shouted.
Marco’s arm went around Brent’s throat and his struggles were useless against the choke hold.
Darius shook the hair out of his eyes. “This guy is crazy. He came in here after business hours and attacked me. I want him arrested.”
Ridley shoved Darius in a chair and another officer stood with him. “You stay put.”
Marco marched Brent outside. Ridley and Donna followed and she retold Harvey’s revelation about the cell phone message.
Sucking in deep breaths, Brent loosed himself from Marco’s grip.
“You’re right,” Ridley said to Donna, “that’s not enough to arrest him, since we don’t have the phone, but I’ll get started on a search warrant.”
“He’s packing,” Brent snapped. “He’s gonna bolt.”
“That’s the way the system works, Brent,” Ridley said.
Brent fought for calm. “We’re two miles from the Mexican border here. He’ll vanish if you don’t take him in now.”
“I told you, I can’t do that.”
“If you can’t stop him, I will.” Brent evaded Marco’s restraining arm, but Ridley stepped in his way.
“Listen to me,” he grunted. “I’m trying not to arrest you here, because I know what that’s going to do to your career.”
Brent breathed hard through his nose. “He’s guilty.”
“Maybe, but don’t ruin yourself trying to prove that.”
Brent stared at Ridley. “I thought you’d be happy to see me drummed out of the coast guard.”
“I thought I would be, too.” Ridley scrubbed a hand over his face. “I guess things change. I still despise you, mind you, but I don’t want to see you stripped of everything. It’s tough enough to lose your sister. I can have a search warrant first thing in the morning.”
“That’s too long.”
“Best I can do. Even if we can prove he called and threatened her, it doesn’t put him on the beach that day or in any way link him to Bruce’s accident. I just got a text that San Diego PD arrested Mooch. We’ll see where that gets us.” He gripped Brent’s shoulder. “Stay away from Darius.”
Ridley went inside.
Brent braced his arms on the wood railing, fighting for control. He felt Donna’s approach.
“Brent...” she said.
He shook his head. “Ridley’s right. We shouldn’t be here. Go home, Donna.”
“I’ll drive you back to the boat.”
He turned to her then, wanting more than anything to put his face against hers and press the world away. “No.”
“You’re not staying here.”
He didn’t answer.
“Brent,” she said. “If you try to get in there and search yourself, you’ll be arrested. It will end your career.”
He took a breath. “I know what the stakes are.”
“Darius will kill you.” She put her hands around his neck and her fingers sent tingles along his spine. “Please come away from here. Please.”
If it were any other question, he would have been powerless to say no to her.
“Marco will make sure you get home safely,” he said, his voice breaking midsentence.
Marco nodded.
“Please,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Please don’t do this. Your sister wouldn’t want you to risk your life.”
He could only look at her, amazed that she cared enough to cry for him, overwhelmed with the blessing of it all.
She clung to him and for a moment, he clutched her close, feeling the rapid beat of her heart, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.
“You need to go home, Donna.”
“What can I do to help you?” she whispered.
“Pray for me. That’s enough.” Then he kissed the top of her head and pulled her away, Marco helping.
Marco put an arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the car, giving Brent one last look.
“Are you going to tell me I’m crazy?” Brent asked him.
Marco shrugged. “You are, Coastie, but in my experience, sometimes a little crazy is necessary to get the job done.”
“Marco, what did you say your assignment was in the navy, anyway?”
“I didn’t.” He nodded. “Don’t get killed.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Donna let Marco drive her back to retrieve Radar and then took them home.
“Lock the door.” He put a gentle hand on her forearm. “Done all you can for Coastie. He’s gonna be okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“Just do,” he said. “He’s tough—he’ll get through.”
He stood on the porch until she locked the door behind her. The night faded into silence. She fed Radar and prowled around the house, pacing futile circles on the hardwood until she found herself at the foot of her pathetic Christmas tree. She saw her own reflection in the single gold ball that Brent had placed there.
It’s more hopeful somehow.
Her life was more hopeful since Brent had been delivered into it. He brought back the joy, the laughter, her desire to become involved with other people’s lives. Because of Brent, she realized, she’d learned to trust herself again. She put a fingertip to the shiny surface. If Brent was going to risk everything to find his
sister, she was not going to let him do it alone. She could not ask him to build a life with her, but she could be his partner until the case was closed, however it turned out.
Grabbing her keys, she headed back out into the night.
TWENTY-ONE
Brent waited under the shelter of a tree for what seemed like days, though it was only three hours. It was nearing midnight when Darius finally drove out of the marina parking lot, Fran beside him in the passenger seat. He could not see her well in the gloom, but her head was down, profile dejected.
Run while you can, he wanted to tell her. While you’re still alive. As soon as they cleared the parking lot, he sauntered down the paved walkway, past the docks and the restaurants locked up tight. He was grateful that Darius’s shop was at the far end of the marina, away from any suspicious eyes. They had security, no doubt, so he kept to the shadows as best he could. He made it to the back door without anybody stopping him. It was locked, but he noticed a window slightly ajar.
His pulse pounded. Breaking and entering was a crime. He would lose his career. But what if this was his only chance, the one moment he would have to find out what had happened to his sister? Could he risk the most important thing in his life?
The reality of it came home to him at that moment. The most important thing in his life was the people he’d been given to love. Period. Reaching for the window, he slid it open and hoisted himself up over the sill.
Dropping down onto the hallway floor, he crouched there for a moment listening before making his way along. The hallway opened up onto a small room with an unmade bed and piles of magazines everywhere. Beauty magazines that someone, probably Fran, had dog-eared and rifled through until their covers were tattered. An old TV and a fishing rod in the corner were the only other embellishments. He continued down the hallway. The next door was closed, latched and locked by a padlock. Brent’s pulse revved up. If there was any evidence to help him find his sister, it would be in here. He hurried to the bathroom and found a tweezer and a safety pin and bent them both at the tip. Inserting the tweezer as a tension rod, he raked the safety pin in the keyhole. He was grateful his coastie buddies liked to play pranks. Burglarizing each other’s lockers was a regular pastime. In moments, the lock popped open.
