by Fay Robinson
In every direction the water stretched out around her like an ocean, but she somehow knew it wasn’t really an ocean, just a huge pond without a visible shoreline. She was in Terrell’s painting, but not as a person, rather, an insignificant speck, so tiny that a foot was like a mile and every ripple was a huge wave.
Miss Eileen was there, struggling against the current. She had on her funny hat with the petroglyphs and her pretty rock earrings.
Her pretty blue rock earrings.
Lucky awoke with a start and sat up in bed. Not blue water. Blue rocks! Blue mica beneath the surface that made the water look falsely blue.
“Oh, my God!”
Terrell had communicated with her through the painting. And he’d told her where to find Miss Eileen’s body.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I’VE MADE YOU some breakfast, and I’ve already let the dog out,” Leigh said. She stood at the stove in her robe and slippers. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to run. I’ll eat something later.”
Awake most of the night, she could hardly wait to get out this morning. There were two important things she had to do today—solve a murder and get her husband back.
Somewhere last night, in the midst of her pain and strange dreams, she’d accepted the truth: she’d never be happy until she reconciled with Jack. The choice to forgive him, be happy and go forward with her life was within her power. All she had to do was act.
She pulled on her coat and hat and grabbed her camera bag. She scratched Beanie under the chin.
“Where are you going? It’s still dark outside.”
“To work. I’m always in by seven.”
“If that’s true, I need to give you a raise. You’re worth more than I’m paying you.”
“Yes, I am. Remember that when we open the new complex with my photographic studio and you have to contract for my services, instead of paying me a flat salary.”
That brought Leigh around. “You’ve decided?”
“Yes, I think it’s a great idea and I’m the perfect person to run it, but I want one change to the renovation plans.”
“What kind of change?”
“I’ll go over it with you and Cal later, but right now I have a ton of film to process and I want to get started so I can finish early.”
“How are you feeling? Any more pains?”
“No, all better. In fact, I’m feeling wonderful.”
“You shouldn’t go into work today. You’re way too giddy.” She got the milk and poured a glass. “Drink this if you’re not going to eat any breakfast.”
Lucky kissed her on the cheek. “You drink it. I love you, big sister, but sometimes you’re more like a mother hen. I’ll come by later and pick up Beanie, so leave the spare key in the usual place.”
“I thought you were going to stay with me a few days.”
“As much as I appreciate your offer, I have other plans. I realized last night that it was time to let go of the past. So today, no matter what happens, I’m shedding it and starting fresh.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘no matter what happens’?”
“I’ll explain later. Oh, tell Mom I’m definitely coming for Christmas dinner with my husband, and ask her if it’s okay to bring his father.”
Leigh had just taken a swallow of the milk and nearly choked on it.
“You and Jack are getting back together?”
“If I have to beat him over the head and drag him home. And after this…well, he’d better not leave again if he knows what’s good for him.”
“My God, what happened between last night and this morning?”
“I woke up,” Lucky said, smiling at her play on words. “Bye.”
She hurried to get all the prints done to meet the deadline for the Sunday paper, but had to keep stopping to sit down. The pains had begun again, a dull ache in her back and her abdomen. They weren’t sharp, though, more like an upset stomach.
The part-time person came in at ten and finished the printing while Lucky sat. That made her feel better, and at eleven-thirty, when she went over to Turner’s to meet Ray, she felt sure that whatever had caused her earlier problems was gone.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Only a couple minutes.”
“I’m sorry I’m late. This is always my busiest morning of the week and my last day before maternity leave, so things have been a little crazy.”
“You’re looking pretty chipper.”
“I have so much to tell you I don’t know where to start.”
They sat in their usual booth and ordered the luncheon special of homemade beef stew and corn bread, along with iced tea. Lucky only spooned the broth and gave Ray her corn bread.
“Not hungry today?” he asked.
“My stomach’s a bit queasy.”
“Never known you to pass up food, sweet pea,” he said, and the endearment made her smile. “Sweet pea” was Ray’s new nickname for her.
Over the past few weeks she’d grown very fond of her father-in-law, and she understood where Jack got his sense of humor. Ray wasn’t a bad person; he was a misguided one who’d done bad things. She didn’t excuse the harm he’d done his victims and neither did he, but she understood his desire to make a fresh start.
Like Jack—who also deserved another chance. He’d never meant to hurt her by withholding the truth. He’d only been trying to put his terrible childhood behind him. She accepted that now.
And like her. She’d failed to understand that it was the here and now that mattered. Possessions—like her cabin—weren’t important. People were.
Last night, lying in bed after her nightmare, she realized she couldn’t go on living the way she’d been, always tethered to past events, past hurts. Family traditions were wonderful, but not when they interfered with living in the present.
She loved Jack, and didn’t intend to spend another day without him.
“So what’s got you so fired up?” he asked. “Your face is glowing like Fourth of July sparklers.”
“Remember the story I told you about the autistic man, Terrell Wade, and that I was trying to persuade his aunt to let me talk to him?” He said he did. “She and I went over there yesterday.”
She gave Ray a quick version of what had happened and told him about the painting.
“I came away disappointed, thinking I’d failed to communicate with him, but I did, Ray. The painting was a message. He was leading me to a specific spot on a stream that feeds the river, a hidden place I doubt too many people know about. I only stumbled across it by accident a couple of years ago.”
She’d been up the stream before to what had been its most navigable point, but that particular year the water was unusually high for a couple of weeks and the mouth had widened to some twenty feet across. Once past the bottleneck, it had opened into a small, stream-fed pond.
“The rock there was a strange blue mica, and that made the water look blue—like in Terrell’s painting. I’ve never seen that rock anywhere else on the river. Initially I didn’t recognize the location because I only saw the place once, and the painting is slightly different from the real thing. In it, the trees are smaller and there’s no dense undergrowth, but that’s because he was drawing it as he remembered it from 1980. Plus, I saw the scene during winter when the trees were bare. Terrell’s painting depicts it in the spring when Miss Eileen disappeared.”
“How do you know it’s tied to this lady comin’ up missin’? Maybe he drew a pretty picture of the place because he’d seen it before and that’s all there is to it.”
“Because I remembered something else.” She stopped suddenly, fighting off what this time was a small but definite cramp.
“You okay?”
“Yes, fine. Excuse me a minute. I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
There, she was surprised to find she’d spotted a few drops of blood. Okay, that was a definite sign of labor, but she still had plenty of
time.
Leigh had taken two days to have Susan. Poor Shannon had gone to the hospital on Wednesday, been sent home, gone back on Thursday and hadn’t had her first child until Saturday morning.
Lucky’s bag with clothes for her and the baby was still at the cabin, so she’d better get that. She’d meant to take it with her to Leigh’s, but had forgotten. And she wanted to retrieve Terrell’s painting and take it with her when she went to see Jack.
Splashing water on her face, she wound her way back through the tables to Ray, deciding not to say anything to him. If she was in labor, she wanted to tell Jack first.
“Sorry. You know how often I have to go. What was I saying? Oh…when Miss Eileen came to church that last Sunday before her death, she was wearing a pair of earrings she’d made. I told her how pretty they were. They were small pieces of blue mica. Don’t you see? She either knew about the pond and had been there, or someone else who’d been there gave her the stones.”
“Maybe this Terrell gave ’em to her. And he still might’ve killed her.”
“No, I don’t think so. I believe he was on his way to the river that morning, cut through the woods and came upon her at the pond. He saw who killed her. If he’d done it, he wouldn’t have told me where to find her.”
“You don’t know for sure that he has told you.”
“I feel it, Ray. Miss Eileen’s body has to be in or near the pond or the stream. Probably in the water, since the killer disposed of the car.” She gasped and became even more excited as another possibility hit her. “All the land around there is federally owned! Maybe there is a connection to the artifact thefts like Jack suspected.”
“You’ve lost me now. I ain’t got the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sorry, it’s complicated and involves other cases Jack’s been working on, but he’ll know what it means.”
“You two talking again?”
“No, but that’s something I plan to change this afternoon. I need to run home first and get that painting, then he and I are going to sit down and straighten out a few things.”
Ray brightened. “You gonna take him back?”
“If he wants to come back.”
“Don’t think there’s much chance he’ll turn you down, sweet pea. If he does, I’ll come live with you.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll tell him you said that.”
Ray snorted, knowing better.
She patted his hand. “You’re a sweet man. Oh, and you really have to stop skulking around, though.”
“I ain’t.”
“Now, Ray. The house. Last night. If you want to visit me, all you have to do is knock on the door.”
“I wasn’t out at your place last night.”
“You weren’t? But I thought…” She shook her head. “Must have been my sister I heard. Leigh drove up about that time.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got to cut our lunch short. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, but hang on a minute. Want you to do something for me.” He dug in his pocket, came up a couple of bills and shoved them across the table. “I’m buying your lunch, but I want you to take these up there to pay.”
“You don’t have to buy my lunch.”
“My treat today. Don’t fuss with me, gal.”
She let him have his way this once, telling him she’d buy his lunch next time.
At the cash register she had to stand in line for a couple of minutes. When she turned around, she found that Ray had slipped out without saying goodbye. Odd. And he hadn’t bothered to wait for his change.
THE ROAD WAS STILL MUDDY and the Blazer slid a couple of times before Lucky slowed down to engage the four-wheel drive. The going was easier once she got to her driveway, because the driveway was covered in gravel that packed well and gave her better traction.
She pulled up to the cabin and parked. The river had turned chocolate-brown and was still a churning mass of mud and debris. Even from here she could see tree limbs racing by.
Taking out her key, she let herself in and listened to the messages on the answering machine. Jack had called last night after she’d left with Leigh. His words sounded slurred.
“I know I said I’d let you call me when you were ready, but…ah, hell, I miss you. Pick up the phone. You can yell at me if you want, ’cause I deserve it, but I need to hear your voice.” A long silence followed. “Please, baby…” After another pause, he’d mumbled an expletive, but it seemed directed at himself and not her. Then he’d hung up.
“Oh, Jack…” He’d thought she was at home but refusing to talk to him. How miserable he’d sounded. And she knew exactly how he felt.
Now she was even more determined to set things right between them. Never again did she want to hear his voice filled with such pain.
A contraction—it had to be—doubled her over. Taking shallow breaths, she was able to get through it, but she was sweating now and thinking she might not have as much time as she’d estimated. “Grace, please don’t be in a hurry. Give Mommy an hour to get back to town and see your daddy….”
Her hospital bag was stashed in the baby’s room. She started to reach for it when a noise startled her, a light creak of the plywood floor in the living room. Her heart hammered. Every nerve ending fired.
Stepping softly to the door, she stopped and listened. An eerie stillness filled the cabin.
There was nothing in this room that could be used as a weapon. She slipped into the storage room and picked up a boat paddle. Raising it like a baseball bat, she crept into the hall. If this turned out to be Ray, she was going to hit him, anyway, for scaring her.
Bracing herself for an attack from the kitchen, she whipped around the wall…and found no one. She lowered the paddle and laughed at herself.
Suddenly a man came at her from behind. She screamed and whirled, hitting him on the shoulder with the paddle, but it didn’t stop him. He plowed into her, knocking her down, and sent the paddle flying from her hands.
He was on top of her now, and she fought him with all her strength, clawing at his face, poking at his eyes with her thumbs as Jack had taught her to do. The bulk of him was pressing on her stomach, intensifying her pain.
Did this man intend to rob her? To rape her?
Jack had said to go for the nose if she was ever attacked, so she did, pushing the heel of her hand into it as hard as she could.
He yelped and rolled away, giving her enough time to get up. She retrieved the paddle and hit him on the head, hard. He cursed, but came quickly to his feet to face her. Running to the back of the cabin would be useless, because she had no door there. He blocked her escape through the front.
She gasped, recognizing him. This wasn’t some random burglary attempt. Shannon had pointed out the man that night at the funeral home—the ranger, Paul Hightower.
Now she knew why he was here, and her fear turned to terror. He intended to kill her.
He pulled a gun from his pocket. “You couldn’t let it alone. You had to go digging into things that weren’t your business.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you and what do you want?” She tried to act cool, but she was shaking all over and her fear was evident in her voice.
“Don’t play coy. You know who I am. And I know you went to see Wade yesterday.”
“You’ve been following me?”
“I’d have taken care of you last night if that sister of yours hadn’t shown up.”
Oh, God! He’d been the presence she’d felt outside in the dark, watching her, waiting to kill her. Leigh’s visit had saved her life. But today no one would come to save her.
Desperately she tried to think of a way to escape. She was truly isolated. No one except Ray knew she was here.
He nodded at the paddle. “Put it down on the floor—nice and slow, or I’ll kill you right here. Kick it toward me.” She did as he said, buying time.
When she was unarmed, he grabbed her and roughly yanked her around. The muzzle of the gun t
ouched the back of her head as a deadly reminder of what was to come.
“Please, don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than that.” With his free hand he clamped down on her shoulder and steered her forward through the front door. “You’re going to have a tragic accident, Mrs. Cahill.”
He made her walk down the steps and toward the pier.
“But why? I don’t even know you.”
“Because you know what I did—or at least Terrell might’ve found some way to reveal it to you if you kept visiting him.”
“You were Eileen Olenick’s married lover, weren’t you? And you killed her.”
“That’s right. She found out about the artifacts I was digging and threatened to tell.”
“And Terrell was in the woods and saw you do it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it until later when he showed up with that stupid hat. Figured I was done for. But Rolly Akers convinced himself that Terrell had done the killing. And since the kid couldn’t dispute it…”
“You got away with murder.”
“Yeah. Rolly always did have a sweet spot for Eileen. Just like your daddy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” He laughed. “Neither one of ’em knows the favor they did me by demanding swift justice for her killer.”
“You’re lying. My father wasn’t… He couldn’t have been.”
“Suit yourself. Won’t matter to you in a couple of minutes, anyway.”
They reached the pier and he pushed her forward. Icy water ran over her shoes and soaked the hems of her pant legs.
“How could you have killed someone you supposedly cared for?”
“Easy. The bitch threatened to turn me in if I didn’t leave my wife and marry her. She had the nerve to toy with me about it, wore that damn hat to church with the Indian stuff on it to show she was serious about going to the cops. To shut her up, I pretended I’d asked for a divorce, had her meet me the next Sunday morning at a little pond where we’d sometimes go. I told her I had a ring I wanted to give her. I promised her we’d go to church together so everyone would know.”
