Army Ranger Redemption

by Carol Ericson

He squeezed the back of Jim’s neck in a vise. “Some of us are just born that way.”

  “We’d better get going.” Jim shrugged him off.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with washing my car?”

  “It’ll be the best damned car wash you ever had.” Dax winked. “Have fun, you two.”

  Jim wheeled his bike toward the road, away from Dax. He handed her the helmet and swung his leg over the bike, straddling it.

  As Scarlett pulled the helmet on her head, she asked, “Did you get anything out of him today?”

  “Nope. That’s why I’m glad you didn’t say anything to him about why we were going to see your grandmother.” Jim started the engine of the Harley. “If he’s not going to be straight with me, I’m not going to be straight with him—not until I know what he’s doing here.”

  “I agree. Did you tell him about the painting?”

  “Yeah, and it rattled him, as much as anything can rattle Dax.”

  “But he didn’t say anything about it?”

  “He made jokes about it.”

  She puffed out a breath. “Has Dax seen the other guy, yet? Chewy?”

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t expect him to tell me about it.”

  Scarlett climbed onto the bike behind him, and her arms around his waist gave him a thrill like he hadn’t felt for a woman in a long time.

  He liked Scarlett. He’d always liked her, even way back in high school. She’d been different from the other teenage girls—always had a purpose. But just because their attraction seemed mutual, it didn’t mean he had to act on that attraction. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and Scarlett wasn’t the type of woman you loved and left.

  He drove north to the Quileute reservation, following a road that meandered next to a river, bordered by lush forest on either side. The reservation came into view, the small houses dotting the landscape, the roadside vendors selling their wares.

  When his bike came into view of an old woman and a young girl on the side of the road, the girl jumped up and down and waved. Jim held up his hand.

  Slowing down, he steered his motorcycle onto the Quileute land until Scarlett tapped his arm. He pulled up to a small, brown-and-green house.

  When he cut the engine, Scarlett said, “Thanks for waving to Prudence back there. You probably made her day.”

  “Prudence? The girl with the old woman?”

  Scarlett took off the helmet and handed it to him. “She goes to the reservation school but wants to transfer to the public school next year. I’m trying to make that happen by convincing her grandmother that Pru will blossom in the public school environment.”

  “You did.”

  She jerked her head to the side and her hair fell over one eye. “I don’t know about that. It did introduce me to Mrs. Rooney, my art teacher, and she’s the one who encouraged me to go to art school instead of regular college.”

  He nodded. “Blossomed.”

  A little smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she pointed to the low-slung brown-and-green house that looked like it grew up out of the forest. “Granny really does want to meet you. I wasn’t lying to Dax about that.”

  “You told her about me?”

  “Of course. I told her the whole story about finding the body and the fire.”

  “Did you tell her about the stick figures?”

  “No. I’d rather see her reaction.”

  He got off the bike and planted one booted foot on the ground, cranking his head to the side. “Nobody’s going to come after me with pitchforks, are they?”

  “At least you didn’t say tomahawks.” She nudged his shoulder. “What are you so worried about? Nobody remembers what a bigot your dad was.”

  “And Dax. Don’t forget him.”

  “He seems to have reformed and mellowed. Besides, Granny always was one to make her own judgments of people.”

  “My kind of woman.”

  She squeezed his biceps. “You’re her kind of man, too. Don’t let her sexually harass you.”

  Jim laughed, but Scarlett just raised her eyebrows before turning and striding toward her granny’s house. She tapped on the front door and called out, “Granny?”

  A strong voice answered. “I’m here, Scarlett.”

  Jim followed Scarlett into the house, already warmed by a blaze in the fireplace. Scarlett’s grandmother waved them over. “C’mon over here. I don’t bite, but I might make an exception in your case.”

  As she laughed, her thin shoulders shook.

  “Granny, behave yourself or you’re going to scare off Jim.”

  The old woman gripped the arms of her chair and sized him up through large, dark eyes that took up half her face. “He doesn’t look like a man who scares easily.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s never met someone like you before.” Scarlett crossed the small room and dipped down to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Granny, this is Jim Kennedy. Jim, my grandmother.”

  Jim joined Scarlett and took her grandmother’s thin hand in his. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, young man and you can call me Evelyn. Granny this, granny that—makes me feel ancient.”

  “I brought you the yarn.” Scarlett waved it in the air.

  “Drop it in the basket. Would you two like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” Evelyn winked. “Something a little stronger?”

  “Jim doesn’t drink, Granny, and it’s a little early for me.”

  “Nothing like Slick, are you?”

  “No, ma’am, and some water would be fine.”

  “Go make us some tea, Scarlett, and bring Jim a glass of water.”

  “Okay.” Scarlett rolled her eyes at him before she headed for the kitchen.

  Evelyn patted the cushion beside her. “Have a seat, Jim.”

  He sat down, turning his body slightly to face her and her penetrating stare.

  “War hero, huh?”

  “I just survived is all.”

  “Did you?” She curved her bony fingers around his wrist with surprising strength and closed her eyes. Her frail body bolted upright and her eyelashes fluttered.

  “You did more than survive. You helped the others, but—” she squeezed harder “—you have guilt. So much guilt. They took the other three but left you.”

  “The other three?” Jim licked his lips. She couldn’t be talking about the cell in Afghanistan anymore. He’d been held there with more than three people.

  “Do you mean the Timberline Trio?”

  Evelyn’s eyes flew open. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Granny, are you reading him?” Scarlett walked into the room with a tray in front of her.

  Evelyn released his wrist. “Why are you back in Timberline, Jim?”

  “Going through my father’s things.”

  Evelyn narrowed her eyes as she took her cup from Scarlett. “Don’t try to fool an old woman, Jim.”

  “Especially an old woman who has the gift.” Scarlett sat down next to him and put his water and her tea on the table in front of them. “Why don’t you tell Granny what happened to you as a child?”

  “I thought—” Jim pinged the water glass with his fingernail “—that topic was off-limits here.”

  Evelyn’s dark eyes focused on Scarlett over the rim of her cup. “Is that what you told him?”

  “Come on, Granny. How many times did you tell me to stop asking questions about the kidnappings? How many times was I shushed by the elders?”

  Evelyn lifted her narrow shoulders. “Most of those elders are dead.”

  “You mean you’re ready to talk now?” Scarlett hunched forward, her thigh bumping his.

  “I don’t know what you imagine I know, Scarlett, but I want to hear from Jim fir
st. What happened to you? You still carry it with you even after everything else you went through during the war, your captivity.”

  “My cap— How did you know about that?”

  “I felt it, Jim. Tell me what happened in Timberline.”

  He launched into the story about his attempted kidnapping and how his father had threatened him with bodily harm if he dared tell another soul about it.

  Evelyn listened with her eyes closed and through occasional sips of tea, nodding calmly as if his story didn’t surprise her one bit.

  When he finished, the silence hung heavy over the room, and Evelyn appeared to be sleeping. Jim raised his brows at Scarlett, who put a finger against her lips.

  Evelyn drew in a breath and inhaled the steam from her hot tea. “You probably believe there was bad blood between the Quileute and the Lords of Chaos, don’t you do?”

  “I know my father for what he was—a bigot. He held ugly stereotypes about the Quileute and wasn’t shy about voicing them.”

  “There was that side of him. Do you think our tribe was completely blameless?”

  “I know there were fights.”

  “There were fights. We had our own troublemakers. Did you know that?”

  “Young men with not a lot to do?” Jim swirled the water in his glass. He’d been one of those. “I can believe that.”

  “They managed to keep busy with...other activities—illegal activities.”

  “Are you telling me that the Lords of Chaos and the Quileute were working together?”

  “They had business that crossed paths.”

  “Granny, what does this all have to do with the Timberline Trio?”

  “Drugs.” Jim placed his glass on the table with a click. “The Lords of Chaos moved drugs through the Washington peninsula and they got them from suppliers.”

  “Some of our tribe members were suppliers of drugs?” Scarlett’s gaze darted between him and Evelyn.

  He’d let Evelyn give her the bad news.

  The old woman dropped her chin to her chest. “They were bad apples, Scarlett. Even as a child you must’ve been aware of your uncle Danny and his feud with your father. Of course, Danny’s influence never spread to the entire tribe, despite his best efforts.”

  “But the elders must’ve known about it, known about Danny.” Scarlett jumped up from the sofa and took a turn around the room, her arms folded across her chest. “Why else would they try to protect these bad apples?”

  “Nothing was known for sure. There was no proof.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Scarlett pressed two fingers against her temple. “I still don’t understand what this all has to do with the Timberline Trio kidnappings.”

  Evelyn laced her fingers together in her lap. “I can’t tell you that. I only know the Lords of Chaos and that gang of Quileute were in business together, and I believe that business involved the kidnapping of those children. Now that I’ve heard Jim’s story, I’m more convinced than ever.”

  Jim ran his knuckles across his jaw. “Did the elders tell you to keep quiet, Evelyn?”

  “They did.” She held up her hand at Scarlett, who had begun to speak. “I didn’t have any proof I could take to the police, anyway, Scarlett, so don’t give me that look. I was never allowed to get that proof.”

  “Was there any evidence?” Scarlett sat on the edge of the coffee table and clasped her grandmother’s hand.

  “There was the pink ribbon.”

  “Pink ribbon?” Jim and Scarlett said the words in unison.

  “You found it. Don’t you remember, Scarlett? You picked it up off the ground. You brought it to me and complained that it felt hot in your hands. You didn’t understand your gift yet, so you didn’t realize what the ribbon’s warmth meant.”

  Jim interrupted her. “But you did.”

  “I couldn’t get a read on it.” Evelyn wrapped her hands around her cup as if to warm them. “And then it was stolen from me.”

  “I stole it.”

  The cup in Evelyn’s hands jerked, sloshing the tea inside. “You took the ribbon?”

  “I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t let me keep the ribbon, so I snuck into your knitting basket and took it back.”

  “How do you know this—” Jim twirled his finger in the air “—pink ribbon had something to do with the Timberline Trio case?”

  Evelyn wrinkled her nose and screwed up her eyes as if looking into the past. “I didn’t at first. I just wanted to protect Scarlett from any visions she wouldn’t know how to handle. But then the gossip started up about the kidnappings. I’d heard from someone who’d heard from someone else that a pink ribbon was taken from one of the little kidnapped girls—Kayla Rush. When I heard that, I went to retrieve the ribbon, but someone had taken it.”

  Scarlett raised her hand. “That would be me.”

  “I suppose it’s too much to hope for that you still have it somewhere.” Jim blew out a breath.

  “Yeah. I mean, I have some trinkets and mementos from my childhood, but I can’t imagine I still have a ribbon.”

  “You never showed it to anyone, did you?” Evelyn struggled to sit forward, and Jim reached over the table to take her hand.

  “Maybe a few friends. I don’t remember.” Scarlett dipped next to the table and gathered Jim’s glass and her own mug. “Do you think that’s why I’m involved now? Somebody thinks I know something?”

  “Perhaps.” Evelyn reached for her knitting in the basket at her feet. “A few of that bunch have returned to the reservation recently, including Danny.”

  “That’s interesting.” Jim moved the basket within Evelyn’s reach. “A few of the Lords of Chaos have returned to Timberline, too. Is someone or something calling them home?”

  Evelyn’s hand trembled slightly as she picked up her needles. “I hope not.”

  “We’ll get out of your hair, Granny. If you think of anything else, let us know.” Scarlett stroked her grandmother’s head.

  “Thanks, Evelyn.”

  She aimed one of her knitting needles at Jim. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, young man.”

  He winked at her and followed Scarlett from the house. “That was enlightening but not useful.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I could look for that pink ribbon and try to get something out of it.”

  “That’s a long shot.” As he approached his bike parked outside Evelyn’s house, his spine stiffened and then he cursed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jim strode to his bike and dropped to his knees. “Someone slashed my tires.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Goose bumps raced up Scarlett’s arms, and she jerked her head to the side to scan the road. Was this malicious mischief because someone didn’t want Jim Kennedy here or was it because someone didn’t want them talking to Granny about the Timberline Trio?

  “I’m pretty sure someone did this with a knife.” Jim ran his hands along the shredded pieces of his tire.

  Crouching beside Jim, her shoulder bumping his, she asked, “Who would do something like this here?”

  “Either it’s someone on the reservation with an old grudge against Slick or someone with a new grudge against me.”

  A truck rolled up, spewing exhaust, and Scarlett rose to her feet and covered her nose and mouth with one hand.

  Her cousin Jason waved through the window. He parked next to Jim’s bike and hopped out of his truck. “I thought it was my turn to look in on Granny.”

  “I had something to drop off.”

  Jason’s eyes widened as he took in Jim examining his bike’s tires. “What happened?”

  Jim cranked his head around. “I guess someone wanted to keep me on the reservation.”

  “Someone here did that?” Jason scratched his
head beneath his black beanie.

  “Did you just get here? Did you see anything?” Scarlett studied her cousin’s face.

  “Me?” He stabbed his chest with his thumb. “You think I did this?”

  “Did I say that? I just asked if you saw anything...or anyone.”

  Jason took a step back toward his truck. “I just drove onto the rez. I didn’t see anyone running away or burning rubber or anything like that if that’s what you mean.”

  Jim brushed his hands together and pushed to his feet. “Resentment of the Lords still run high around here?”

  “Not that I know of. That was a long time ago, man. This isn’t going to hurt my chances of buying one of those sweet bikes, is it?”

  “Not if you give your cousin, me and my bike a ride back to my place.”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.” He pointed to Granny’s house. “Should I stop in to see her?”

  “I’m sure she’ll want to see you, but—” Scarlett grabbed Jason’s arm as he started to move toward the house “—don’t tell her what happened out here. I don’t want her to worry.”

  “Whatever, but I don’t think Granny’s going to be worried about Jim’s tires getting slashed.”

  “Just keep it to yourself. Shh.”

  “Okay if I load my bike into your truck bed?”

  “Go ahead, or you can wait for me and I’ll help you.” Jason continued up the steps and disappeared inside the house.

  “Do you think he knows anything?” Jim lowered the back of Jason’s truck and shoved a hand in his pocket as he scoured the landscape through narrowed eyes.

  “No. What are you looking for?”

  “Something I can use as a ramp.”

  “Granny has some old construction materials in the back of her house. I keep telling her to toss the stuff, but she hates to throw anything away.”

  “Lead the way.”

  She crooked her finger, and Jim followed her around the side of the house. “Wood?”

  “That’ll work.”

  Together, they hauled a two-by-four to the front of the house. Jim wedged it against the back of Jason’s truck just as Jason exited the house.

  “I can help you with that.” He jogged over and took Scarlett’s place on the other side of the ramp. “I’ll secure it while you roll the bike up.”