by Nicole Young
“I don’t know that she’s on the run so much as her brother Brad is just ultra-paranoid. He’s a cop, you know.”
“What’s he paranoid about?”
I flipped a hand in the air. “I don’t know. Something about Sam’s ex-husband getting out of prison.” I downplayed the man’s vengeful, destructive, and insane attributes.
He stared at the ground as we walked. “What brought her to Port Silvan?”
“Oh, Brad just figured the ex would never connect the dots and Sam would be safe in the woods up here.”
“How do you know these Walters siblings, anyway?”
“Ummm, Brad was my neighbor back in Rawlings. He looked in on me every now and then.”
“Uh-huh.” My grandfather’s voice carried a note of suspicion.
I snapped a look at him. “No, he was not my boyfriend. We were friends. That’s it. We walked, we talked, we skied with the church group. Then I moved up here. End of story.”
“End of relationship?” Puppa asked.
“Yes.”
“But now Sam’s up here.”
“Yeah. So?”
“I wonder if she’s really got an ex to hide from or if big brother just sent her up here to keep an eye on you.”
“Brad? No way. He sounded extremely shook up about the ex-husband. He really loves his sister.”
“He might have been pretty shook up about your shed getting burnt down too. I’d say timing is very coincidental.”
“Well, what’s Sam supposed to do if the bad guys come back? Run over them with her Volkswagen bus?”
Puppa grinned. “Samantha looks like she’s half Amazon. I bet she can take care of herself.” He looked at me. “And watch out for you too, I imagine.”
“Please. I have been taking care of myself practically my whole life. I do not need a babysitter.”
“But having a bodyguard can’t hurt any.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m supposed to be keeping Sam safe. Not the other way around.”
“Having a roommate at the lodge is a good thing. I feel better knowing you’ve got company. I’m sure your friend Brad feels the same way.”
I thought of my new roomie’s VW, orange shag comforter, and lava lamp. Those items didn’t really affect my life in a negative way. But if she started blaring Elvis, the Beatles, or even the Beach Boys, I’d have to draw the line.
Puppa turned around. I realized we’d walked all the way to the main road. My golden horse pranced a circle on the other side of the fence, then accompanied us back toward the barn, which was barely visible through the thick row of cedars that cut the barnyard in half.
“So, what’s going to happen with Melissa Belmont?” I asked him.
“Drake’s sending threats from his cell to scare her into staying at the house. His dealer buddies have practically moved in to keep an eye on her and the kids.”
“That’s awful. I had no idea. What can we do to help her?”
“The tricky part is to get her and the kids out of town without anyone seeing them leave. Then she’ll have to go somewhere Drake and Company won’t think to look for her.”
“Kind of a layman’s witness protection program?”
“Pretty much.”
“Just like Samantha has going.” I cringed at the thought of Sam’s ex tracking her down in Port Silvan.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“If her life is in danger, why not get Melissa into the real program?” I asked.
“Too small of potatoes, too much red tape. The feds don’t really care about prosecuting a dealer like Drake. All Melissa might do is put an insignificant player behind bars for five to ten years.” Grandfather bent down and uprooted a pricker plant. He flung the carcass toward the fence. “Now, if Melissa were willing to testify against bigger potatoes . . . but I can’t imagine she’d do that.” He kicked dirt to fill in the hole. “If Drake came forward to inform on his network, like identifying the big shot running the drug supply lines in and out of the U.P., then Drake could very well earn himself immunity and a new life.”
“What? That’s not fair. Melissa and her kids are the ones that deserve a new life. Doesn’t anyone care if they get killed?”
“We live in a backwater county where there’s only one murder a year, Patricia. Witness protection isn’t a high priority. Besides, more often than not, these women go out looking like suicides.”
My heart beat in my ears. “What do you mean?”
“The suicide rate is off the charts around here.”
“Then my mom . . .” My voice petered into silence.
“May not have been a suicide.”
I stared at him. The breeze lifted a piece of his gray hair. His blue eyes were rimmed with red.
“You didn’t have anything to do with Mom’s death, did you?” I couldn’t forget Candice’s accusations.
He shook his head. “Not directly. But I’ll always wonder.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I should have never let her go that night. It was foolish of me even to mention it.” He shook his head and wiped a hand across his forehead, back in another time.
“Tell me what happened. Please. You have to.” I grabbed his hands. Up in the cedars, birds chirped. My horse reached her nose over the fence and whinnied. Puppa opened his mouth to speak.
From the direction of the barn, I heard Samantha’s voice. “Hey, Tish! Come and see!”
24
I tore my gaze from Puppa to watch Sam jog our way.
“Go on and visit with your friend, Patricia,” he said. “We can talk later.”
I gritted my teeth. Sam had terrible timing. Go away, I felt like telling her.
Sam reached us, bubbling over. “There’s a peacock, Tish. And roosters. And a llama.”
Goldie nickered again.
Sam turned. “What a gorgeous horse!”
Back away from the fence, Barbie, I seethed in my mind. Sam was driving me nuts and it hadn’t even been one day. August couldn’t come soon enough.
She gave Heaven Hill Gold a pat on the nose, then turned and grabbed my arm. “Come on. You’re going to love it.”
My feet slapped the ground in defiance at each step as she dragged me to the barn. Inside, we checked out the new stalls Joel and Puppa had put in. Even in my foul mood, I couldn’t help but laugh at the roosters with their bobbleheads, and the peacock, who tried chasing us off with a shake of its plumes.
We found the llama in a high-fenced pen adjoining the back of the barn. Sam and I ran hands through the animal’s thick wool.
She smiled at me. “Tish, I’ve never been to a farm. Thank you for bringing me along tonight.”
My heart melted as I put myself in Sam’s muddied shoes. She had the happiest disposition of anyone I knew, even though she’d suffered her own share of poor choices.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I said. “We’re going to have a great summer together.”
“We really are.” She rubbed the llama’s ears. “I couldn’t help but wonder what you were talking about tonight regarding that Melissa woman. Is there anything I can do to help her?”
“What a situation. Poor thing. My grandfather’s already doing as much as he can.”
“Joel caught me up on some of the details. I hate the thought of her living in that house with her husband’s buddies hovering over her. Let’s sneak her out of there. She can live with us at the lodge.”
My hands dropped to my sides. “Absolutely not. We’ve got enough trouble worrying about your ex-husband. We do not need Melissa’s baggage coming after us too.”
“Oh. Brad told you about Gill, huh?”
“Well, yeah.” I looked at her with an expression that said “duh.”
“Then you see why I want to help Melissa. We have so much in common.”
“I doubt it. Somehow I can’t imagine you staying with Gill as long as Melissa’s been with Drake. And she’s still reluctant to go.”
Sam stiffened, her han
ds tucked deep in the llama’s wool. “I look like I’ve got it all together, don’t I? But you’d be surprised. I was with Gill for almost ten years before I had the courage to break free.”
I swallowed. The beautiful woman in front of me with her Grecian features and incredible black hair deserved only the finest man the world had to offer. And she’d picked Gill and stayed? “What’s the story behind that?” I asked. “It just doesn’t seem to fit who you are.”
“It’s our hardships that mold us, Tish. I wouldn’t dream of trading my past for a kinder, gentler one. The choices I made led me in some weird, roundabout way to the exact place God can use me.” She flipped that magnificent hair behind one shoulder. “I know this, if not for what I’ve gone through with Gill, my music wouldn’t carry any meaning. It would be about as deep as ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’”
I thought back to the church in downstate Rawlings where Samantha and her band led the worship each Sunday. “You wrote those songs?”
“All except the hymns.”
I recalled the many times tears had threatened as I listened to the words of gratitude and praise to the Lord. “Your lyrics are amazing.”
“Thanks, but it’s all God. I just made a bunch of dumb mistakes. He’s the one that took what I’d messed up and turned it to something useful. Something that can help others find their way.”
We left the llama with a final scratch behind the ears and latched the gate behind us. The guys had disappeared somewhere. We went back in the house, visited with Gerard and Grandma Olivia for a few minutes, then made the drive back home.
We drove past the cider mill and the turn to Candice’s house. I thought about my last visit with her, wondering why I should believe her when she said she hadn’t ripped my mother’s picture in half.
Would the kind and gentle Joel have ripped the photo? He’d seen Candice’s car leave the area that night. Maybe he went in the lodge to see what she’d been up to, saw the picture on my pillow, and in a fit of jealousy, torn it in two. He’d apologized for his behavior, hadn’t he? Maybe his remorse had been more for the vicious vandalism than the callous comments.
“So what did you think about my idea to hide Melissa down at the lodge with us?” Sam said, interrupting my train of thought.
“I think I don’t need one more wrench in my routine, that’s what.” It came out a touch snotty.
Sam’s shoulders pressed back against the seat. “It seems to me like your whole life revolves around protecting your personal routine. It seems like a really dull, really unfulfilling existence.”
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “You can just stow the guilt trip. Those don’t work on me anymore.”
She looked at me, eyebrows raised innocently. “No guilt trip here, honey. Just stating the facts.”
“No, the fact is that I am not going to invite chaos into my life. I just climbed out of that pit and I’m not going back there.”
“Come on. Haven’t you ever helped someone who needed it, Tish? Haven’t you ever felt that awesome feeling that comes over you after you did something nice just because someone asked you to?”
“Yeah. I know that feeling. It bought me three years behind bars. The answer is no.”
She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. “I can’t believe you’d pass up the opportunity to do a good deed.”
I whipped my head in her direction. “You’re my good deed, Samantha. You’ve only been here ten hours and I’m already sorry.” I faced forward just in time to jerk the car back in my own lane and miss the set of oncoming headlights.
We made the rest of the drive in cold silence. As soon as the car stopped, Sam was out of it and running for the house.
I stayed slumped behind the wheel. Didn’t Sam realize how much I’d already put on the line for her? I’d been well on my way to making Brad and Rawlings a distant memory. Instead, the life I’d turned down was now dangled before my eyes like a carrot tied to the end of Pinocchio’s nose, with the distance between what I’d wanted and what I now had growing greater with each lie I told myself.
Sam had to understand. I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want to love her or get attached to her. I’d rather be annoyed with her. I’d rather have her go away and leave me in my misery. It wasn’t as if Brad and I were ever going to get together anyway. It wasn’t as if Sam would ever be my sister-in-law. I didn’t need the pain she brought, let alone the agony Missy with her adorable children would pile on.
Oh, what had Brad been thinking? If ever I thought he loved me, I knew better now. He could only be out for revenge.
Friday morning, I lay in bed and listened to the plumbing as Sam got ready for her big job interview at the Silvan Bay Grille. Last night, I hadn’t had the courage to apologize for the “you’re my good deed” comment. A restless night’s sleep hadn’t made the task any more appealing this morning. When I heard the VW bus crank—and crank—then drive off, I figured the coast was clear.
Sam had made coffee and left a hairbrush on the counter—a sign that she planned to stay put despite my testy personality. The remains of the pot made a full cup. I took my steaming drink to the great room and leaned against the cool stone of the fireplace. The morning sky was a sharp blue. A few waves already lapped at the shore, promising more wind to come. Tension drained out of me with the relaxing scenery and liquid caffeine. I determined that today, I’d loosen up a little and try to enjoy Sam’s company. Goodness knew I wouldn’t have it for very long. After August, I’d probably never see her again.
I made the drive to Manistique for supplies. My first stop was the discount grocery. I lassoed a cart from the parking lot and started down the produce aisle. A center bin was piled with a fresh load of grapefruit. I snagged some, along with apples, bananas, and plums. Then I stocked up with veggies, salivating at the thought of stir-fry for supper. I scurried down the rows, loading up with canned goods, pasta, stuffing mix, and mac-n-cheese. Despite the long list of errands ahead of me, I paused at the meat counter and obsessed over the price difference between ground chuck and ground sirloin. I stared at the printed labels, weighing my options, and settled on the lean beef.
From the next aisle came the cries of a distraught infant. My shopping cart had a mind of its own, turning in the opposite direction, away from the ear-splitting noise. I gripped the handlebar and forced the wheels toward the sound. I had no time for detours. The cereal aisle couldn’t wait.
I turned the corner. The crying got louder. Halfway up the row, a woman cradled the screaming child and waved a rattle near his face in a move to distract him from a box of sugared rings that held his full attention.
“Melissa Belmont.” I left my cart askew and raced toward her.
“Tish. Hi.”
She looked close to tears as she glanced around, probably looking for spies.
“Andrew, what’s the matter, baby?” I reached for my church buddy and stuck him on my hip. I kissed his head. The scent of baby powder and formula niggled at a dormant female instinct. I looked at the girl clinging to the front end of the cart. “And how are you, Miss Hannah?”
She let go with one hand long enough to give a little wave.
I turned to Missy. “My grandfather says you’re having a tough time. How are you holding up?”
Tears started to roll. “Not very good. Bad, in fact.” She wiped at her cheek with the back of one wrist. She put out her arms to take Andrew. “I can’t talk to you. That jerk of Drake’s will be back any minute. If he sees us together . . .”
I held Andrew closer. “What’s going on, Missy? Why are you still there? Why don’t you just get out?”
She put a hand over her mouth to hold back the squeaks. When she regained her composure, she rushed to fill in the details, whispering with her back to Hannah. “They took away my car keys. They won’t let me use the phone. If they see me with anyone, they threaten to hurt that person. Anything I do, one of them goes with me. The worst thing is, Drake swears if I try to take th
e kids, he’ll kill me.” She collapsed into her hand again. “I feel like a prisoner in my own home.”
I blinked, incredulous. “You don’t just feel like one, you are one. Who’s here with you today?” I glanced behind me, pinpointing the convex mirrors in the corners of the store.
“Bill Stigler. They call him Stick. But he just dropped us off out front and said he’d be back in an hour.”
I looked at the layers of canned goods, coffee, cereal, and diapers in her cart. “How long ago was that?”
“About twenty minutes.”
My brain started churning. “Let’s switch carts. I’ll go through the checkout, load up the groceries, then pick you guys up around back. There’s an exit by the restrooms.”
“Are you crazy? Drake’s serious. He’ll kill me.” Her hands wrung together.
Puppa had said sometimes a murder could be made to look like suicide. All Sam and I had to do was keep our eye on Missy and she’d be safe. They weren’t going to do anything crazy as long as there were witnesses.
I switched Andrew to my other hip. “We’ll keep you indoors for a while, just ’til they quit searching for you.”
Terror crossed Missy’s face. “He’ll never quit looking for the kids.”
“Come on. We haven’t had contact since that day at the library. They won’t think of looking for you at the lodge.”
“That’s the first place they’ll go. Why do you think they burnt down your shed? The day he was arrested it was all over town that you were the one who turned him in.”
Missy was right. They’d probably come nosing around my place. But we’d have several hours before they started the search—they’d scour Manistique first. And we’d hide Missy and the kids in the crawl space ’til danger passed. If all else failed, we’d turn to the pros.
“My grandfather will keep us safe.” I laid the confidence on thick.
She swallowed. Then she nodded. “Okay.”
“Good girl. We’ll get through this just fine.” I passed Andrew back to her. “Take my cart and look like you’re shopping. I’ll meet you out back in ten minutes.”
