Abruptly his lips found hers. She opened her mouth to his as the intimacy of the kiss increased. A surge of sensual pleasure coursed through her. It was so strong, so unfamiliar, so wonderful that she felt it all the way to her toes.
“Sweetheart, this feels so . . . right.” He whispered the words, then feathered light kisses along her brow, her temple, and her chin. When she thought she couldn’t bear the yearning another instant, she turned her mouth to meet his in a kiss that engaged her soul. His lips became demanding and hers parted underneath them, submitting. She tightened her arms around his neck and pressed the length of her body to his.
“You’re something special.” The murmured words were barely coherent, thickly groaned in her ear as he kissed the bare, warm curve of her neck. Thrusting his fingers into the disarray of her red curls, he drew her flushed face to his shoulder.
“How do you know? You’ve only known me a short time.”
“I’ve known you for longer than you know. You just didn’t know me.” He stroked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Nona thought back to their first meeting and how her opinion of him had changed since then. She had not wanted to admit that she was falling in love with him. She had been interested only in keeping him at arm’s length, fearing he would discover her secret. The image of the package Harold had sent her, and which was now buried in the bottom of her suitcase, came into her mind. Like turning on a switch, one moment it hadn’t been there, the next moment it was.
“What are you thinking?” Simon’s brow was furrowed with concern.
Try as she might, Nona couldn’t decide what to do. She had not opened the package, respecting Harold’s wishes; but on the other hand, was she right in hiding something so important from Simon? Should she open the package now?
“Talk to me, Nona.” Simon gently shook her shoulders.
Looking deep into his eyes, Nona faced another dilemma. How could she tell him about the package at this late date? If she did nothing, if she kept the secret of the hidden package, it might mean Maggie would never be found. If Simon were involved in trying to steal the money back, it would break her heart and Maggie would still be gone. All that mattered was Maggie. Nothing more, nothing less. If she lost Simon’s respect, so be it.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered.
“All right.”
“I should have told you before. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was waiting for the right time.”
“Okay,” he said calmly. “Tell me.”
The words didn’t come easily, but she’d gone too far to turn back. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she said, “I received a package from Harold just before we came up here. I didn’t open it, not then and not since, so I can’t say for sure what’s in it. After what you’ve said about him, after what he’s done, it may be connected to his crime.”
Simon merely stared at her for a minute or two. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “Why didn’t you say something to me? Why didn’t you tell me this after I told you what Harold had done?”
“I didn’t know you well enough.”
“You mean you didn’t trust me.”
It was so near the truth, she didn’t answer. “You’re not being fair,” she said weakly.
“Have I given you a reason not to trust me? You should have told me.”
The anger that had fueled her attack on the sheriff was spent. It was all she could do to look into Simon’s eyes.
“Where’s the package?” he asked.
“It’s here. In my suitcase.”
“Let me see it.” When she hesitated, he insisted, “Let’s get everything out in the open, Nona.”
Nona led Simon into the bedroom she had shared with Maggie. From beneath the bed, she pulled out her worn suitcase and set it upon the mattress. She opened the lid and there, beneath a couple of sweaters, was the parcel Harold had sent her.
“Here’s the letter that came with it.” She pulled the letter from beneath the string tied around the package and handed it to Simon. He read it quickly, then again more slowly.
Dear Nona,
I know that we have not kept in close contact these past years and, for that, I am sorry. However, I have a favor to ask. Please keep this package until you hear from me. I beg of you . . . DO NOT OPEN IT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!
Regardless of how you feel about me, I do care deeply for you and Maggie. You are the only person that I feel I can trust. I will explain everything soon. For the sake of our father, I’m asking you to do this for me. I promise that I will have your money and Maggie’s from our father’s estate soon.
Your brother,
Harold
“Open it,” Nona said with a deep sigh. “Open it, and be done with it.”
Simon pulled out a small pocketknife and opened the blade, slipping it through the paper around the parcel. After cutting a gash in the side, he pulled away the wrappings to reveal a shoe box. With fingers that shook, Nona reached for the lid. She was filled with dread. With all the determination she could muster, she lifted the lid. What she saw made her gasp. Filling the inside of the box were thick bundles of money, and on top of them lay another envelope.
Chapter 21
FEAR KEPT MAGGIE FROZEN in the middle of the path. The strange man’s eyes didn’t blink as they stared at them. He was unlike anyone she had ever seen before.
“Answer my question, boy,” the stranger demanded.
Maggie looked at Dusty, fully expecting him to be as frightened as she was, but she was surprised at what she saw. Dusty was staring back at the man, a smile creeping up at the corners of his mouth until it became a large grin.
“Dusty?” she asked in confusion.
“Don’t worry.” Confidently, he began walking toward the stranger, without the least hint of fear. Maggie’s mind raced with all of the horrible scenarios that could happen to him. The man could have a knife or a gun! Before she could shout out to Dusty, he turned back and said, “I’ve known this guy for years. He’s a little different, but then again, aren’t we all?”
“Wha—” was all Maggie could manage in reply.
“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” the man repeated. “This isn’t your neck of the woods. You taking your little friend for a walk and got yourself conveniently lost?” he added as he threw his head back and cackled, his white beard bouncing up and down on his chest.
“Taking your evening stroll, Randall?” Dusty asked as he went to the strange man and held out his hand.
“What are you doing here?” Randall asked again as he shook Dusty’s hand. Now he didn’t seem quite so frightening.
“That’s something we don’t have enough time to tell.” Dusty smiled. “To make a long story short, I’m taking her to Tall Pine Camp.”
“What’s your name, little lady?” Randall asked.
“Maggie.”
“I’m Randall Weatherspoon. Sorry if I put a fright into you.”
When he came a few steps closer, Maggie had a closer look at him. His clothes were ragged, but clean. When he smiled, his teeth were straight and even. The fear she had felt at first slowly went away.
“That’s all right.” She smiled. “I’m just jumpy.”
“Jumpy? You’re as safe with this boy as if you were in church.”
“She’s had a scare,” Dusty answered. “A couple of guys brought her out here and tied her to a tree.”
“Why’d they do that?”
“They wanted some information.”
“I’ve wondered why so many men were roaming around the woods for the last couple of days.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie asked.
Ignoring her, Randall scratched his hairy chin. “The fellas I’ve been watching looked like city fellas. One is bald as an egg.”
“You’ve seen them?” Dusty and Maggie asked in unison.
“These two fellas were as nervous as a mouse in a room full of cats,” Randall joked. “I suppose looking
for you would account for that.”
“When was the last time you saw them?” Dusty asked anxiously.
“Earlier this afternoon. They were headed in the same direction that you’re going.” Randall said, “I haven’t seen them again for the last hour or two. They may be waiting up ahead for you.”
“We need to change our direction.” Dusty frowned as he looked at Maggie. “It’ll cost us a couple of hours of walking, but I don’t think we’ve got much choice.”
“Another couple of hours?” Maggie despaired. She’d already been away from Nona for two days. Her sister would be worried sick.
“The boy’s right,” Randall agreed. “You keep going the direction you’re headed, you could run right into them. They look like thugs to me.”
“How do you know that, Randall?”
“I know a thug when I see one.”
“They didn’t catch you watching them?” Maggie asked.
At this, the grin under Randall’s beard flowered into a full smile. “Little lady, there isn’t any way I’ll be seen in these woods unless I want to be seen. I came here to get away from people and I’ve learned to be very good at it.”
“We better get going if we want to make it to the camp before dark,” Dusty interjected. “Thanks for the warning, Randall. We’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
They’d only taken a couple of steps down the path when Maggie looked back over her shoulder to where the old man had stood. She’d wanted to express her own thanks or, at the very least, to give a small wave good-bye. But Randall was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared back into the trees in the same ghostlike way he’d appeared.
“Randall’s kind of strange,” Maggie ventured.
Shortly after leaving the old man, Dusty had led Maggie off the scant trail they’d been following and pushed into a denser brush. For nearly twenty minutes, they’d trekked through thorny brambles that laced the space between the tall pines. Thorns had caught on her clothes and tangled in her hair, but she’d pushed on. The trek seemed never to end, but just as she was about to complain, they’d stepped onto another thin path. Dusty had smiled and winked before once again pushing on.
Now, as they walked back to the camp and Nona, the realization that she was running out of time with this amazing new boy hit Maggie hard. It was awkward to just walk along beside him without saying anything. She wanted to talk, to just hear his voice ramble on about this or that. When she finally worked up enough courage to speak, she asked about the grizzled stranger.
“Yeah, he’s one of a kind,” Dusty agreed with her. “He was out here before I was born, living off the land, like some kind of hermit. My dad says he’s an educated man. He comes to visit my folks every month or two.”
The idea that someone would make his home in the woods sounded crazy! Although she had enjoyed the stories of Robinson Crusoe and Swiss Family Robinson, she could not understand how Mr. Weatherspoon could do without a grocery store nearby or a movie theater.
“Why would anyone choose to live out here?” Maggie asked, but instantly wished she could take it back. Dusty and his parents had chosen this life, but she saw them as entirely different from Mr. Weatherspoon. “I’m sorry, Dusty,” she added quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“No offense taken.” He laughed. “Randall’s story is a little different from my folks’. He’s told me a few things about his life before he came to the woods. As surprising as this might seem, Randall was once an accountant for some big firm in Chicago. He used to spend his days charting the movement of millions of dollars.”
“You’re kidding!” Maggie exclaimed.
“Nope. He might look like a hermit, but he’s one sharp cookie. Had a big office in a skyscraper and made lots of money. One day, he got sick of all the runaround and stress and decided that he’d had enough. Walked out the door, quit his job, left his wife, and headed for the hills.”
“He left his wife?” Maggie repeated, uncertain that she’d heard Dusty correctly. “What kind of person would do that?”
“I think it’s more complicated than that.”
“How? I’d hate anyone who did that to me.”
Dusty was silent for a moment as they walked along the path, the only sound the rustling of the fallen leaves. Finally, he said, “You know, I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but there’s one thing I learned from my parents that I’ll never forget. It makes a lot of sense when you apply it to Randall.”
“What’s that?”
“It isn’t material things that make you happy. The first thing is finding someone to love and who loves you and taking the time to enjoy life for what it is rather than what others expect it to be. Randall was smart enough to figure that out and decided to make a change. It’s hard for a person to admit he’s truly unhappy, harder yet for him to find the courage to do something about it.”
“But he made someone else miserable by leaving,” Maggie argued.
“Sometimes you have to be selfish, especially where your own happiness is concerned. I can’t blame him for that. Besides, who’s to say she wouldn’t have been more miserable if he’d stayed?”
They walked along in silence, Maggie trying to take in all that Dusty had said. He didn’t talk the way other boys she’d known talked. He was thoughtful and introspective and what he said made her think in ways she never had before. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” she said aloud.
“I suppose not.” He grinned and took her hand. They walked down the rough path toward the camp on the lake.
Webb didn’t like what was happening, not one bit.
He sat at the table while Frank paced back and forth, a whiskey bottle in one hand and a knife in the other. They had returned to their run-down cabin from watching Tall Pine Camp. Webb had fixed them a bite to eat. Instead of eating, Frank had decided to drink his supper.
“The only thing that’s goin’ to make those bitches tell us anything is if we put a sharp knife to their throats.” Frank’s eyes caressed the six-inch blade.
Webb remained silent. In the time he had known Frank, he’d learned that it often wasn’t necessary to reply to his comments, especially when he had been drinking.
“The more I think about it,” Frank continued, “we should go after that woman of Ernie’s. I’d bet the farm he told her somethin’ or she’s heard one of the Conrads talkin’ about Harold.”
“But what if she doesn’t know anythin’?” Webb interjected. “I’m not for kidnappin’ a pregnant woman, Frank. What if she pops the kid?”
“Goddammit! She knows somethin’.”
“She won’t know where the money is.”
“How do you know that, smart ass? What if Ernie found the money and left it with the broad to hold for him?”
“If we can’t find it, how do you think that idiot could find it?”
“She knows,” Frank shouted.
“Just like you knew the girl knew something,” Webb muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” Frank growled, stepping toward him brandishing the knife, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “What the hell did you say?”
“Nothin’, Frank.” The last thing he wanted to do was to get into a pissing contest with this drunken fool. He needed to have his wits about him if he was going to have any chance of keeping his head on his shoulders.
“Nothin’? Damn right it was nothin’! We’ve done things your way,” Frank said, as he took a big swallow of whiskey, “and we ain’t got shit to show for it.”
There was no point in arguing with Frank when he was in this condition. No amount of explaining was going to get through to him. Instead, Webb decided to bring up another subject. “What about Wright? We had an element of surprise the last time; it’ll be different this time. They’ll be stickin’ to those women.”
“Let ‘em be ready,” Frank scoffed. “We can still take the pregnant cow.”
“That tall cowboy stays pretty close to her,” Webb protested. It was Frank’s k
ind of thinking that was going to get one or both of them killed. “We don’t know who he is. He could be a fed or one of Wright’s men. We’ll have to be extra careful.”
“Will you stop your bellyachin’? You think settin’ here with our thumbs up our asses is goin’ to get anythin’ done? The boss wants answers. We’ve got to find that stash!”
“I think we should call him before we do anythin’ else.”
“Ain’t no time. Besides he’ll agree with me.”
Webb wasn’t so sure of that, but it wasn’t smart to disagree with Frank right now. He had been pushing for him to call Chicago for a couple of days now and Frank kept rejecting the idea. This was going to end badly; Webb was sure of it.
“It’s about time we got a move on,” Frank said as he looked out the window. It would be dark soon. He had decided to hit the camp grounds shortly after everyone had retired for the night. He needed time to scout things out.
Webb got up and began to gather the things he’d need. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind and slammed him hard against the wall. The force was so strong it blew the air from his lungs.
“What the hell?” he gasped.
Frank stood in front of him, his forearm pinning him to the wall. The blade in his hand pressed firmly against the flesh of Webb’s throat. Looking into bloodshot eyes, Webb saw nothing but anger. Frank smiled, showing his dark, uneven teeth, his stinking breath blowing into Webb’s face.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Frank growled in a voice thick with menace and booze. “Don’t even think of crossin’ me. ‘Cause it’ll be the last thing you do.”
Words froze in Webb’s throat. He didn’t even dare to nod his head because the knife was pressed so tightly to his throat. He’d known that Frank was a cold-blooded killer, but he hadn’t known he was so crazy he’d turn against him.
“I’m tired of doin’ things your way. I’m tired of you askin’ me so many goddamn questions. We should have gone in there, shootin’ the place up like I wanted in the first place.”
On Tall Pine Lake Page 18
