Killing Bliss

by EC Sheedy

  "You loved her."

  "Yeah, I loved her. But it didn't stop me from screwing up. Big-time. But when Lund—" She stopped again, looked out the window.

  "Lund?" he prodded.

  "Lund Baylor. A client, and an okay guy. Didn't say much. I almost married him. Maybe if I had, things would have been different. He wanted me to quit the trade, put a white fence around me." She sighed softly, then shrugged. "But I was making good money. Looked a lot better then than I do now"—her smile was quick and proud—"and I wanted to hang on for a while, get a stake... The upshot was, Lund took off. Dianna and him had kind of hit it off, you know. And when he left, she left."

  She pushed herself out of the chair and took the two or three steps to the window. It seemed to take all her strength. "Lund bought himself some kind of resort or something, north somewhere, up near the Canadian border—a place called Star Lake. Dianna went to him after that awful murder business. He called me to let me know she was okay. I was thinking I'd go up there, but she didn't stay long, took off with some truck driver, Lund said. Never heard a word after that." A sad twist of a smile altered her face from wistful to cynical. "Like mother, like daughter."

  "She never called you?"

  She shook her head slowly. "Haven't heard her voice or set eyes on her for over sixteen years."

  "Did you tell the police—about Lund? Her going there?"

  She snorted derisively and sat down again as if the effort of standing by the window had drained her. "I'm a hooker, remember? Hookers don't talk to cops, and even if I did, Lund wouldn't have. He didn't like cops any more than I did. Spent a few years behind bars somewhere along the line. Never said what for." She paused. "I probably shouldn't be talking to you, either. I don't want to give my girl any more trouble. She had me for a mother. That was enough for any kid."

  "She got herself involved in a bad situation."

  "Maybe, but that's life, isn't it? One long line of 'bad situations.' She didn't kill anyone. No way. She wouldn't know how."

  Cade wasn't going to argue with a mother's heart, even if it hadn't cared enough when it damn well should have. "Probably not, probably just afraid. And like I said, I'm not looking for your daughter, Mrs. Lintz, I'm looking for Addilene Wartenski. She was with Dianna in the house that night. There's a chance they ran away together." He stood. "If you could tell me where I can find Baylor, he may know something."

  "If he did, he'd have a hard time telling you." She raised her eyes to his, looking tired and empty. "Lund's dead." She opened a drawer in her bedside stand and pulled out a jeweler's box, offered it to him.

  Cade opened it. Inside there was a gold bracelet inscribed All my love, Lund. And a note.

  You'll get this when I pass on, Rox, because I want you to know you were always the one for me. Too bad about us, but it was your choice. But I never did stop thinking about you. This here bracelet proves that.

  There was a P.S.

  Don't you worry about your Dianna. Or about what people say. She'll be okay. She's a strong one, and her and her friend are good girls. I did the best I could for her while she was here.

  Cade held out the note and box to return it and, for a moment, it linked them. Love lost. Cade knew all about that. "Lund Baylor," he said gently, "One of your regrets, Roxanne?"

  She sealed her lips into a tight line, took the box from his hand, and put it back in the drawer. She fingered the note a moment before lifting desolate eyes to meet his. "The biggest in a life filled with them." She turned away. "Good-bye, Harding."

  When he reached the door and had his hand on the doorknob, she spoke again, quietly. "Harding?"

  "Uh-huh?"

  Silence.

  "If you find my girl, hear anything about her, would you let me know? Before I... go, it would be nice to know she made it somehow."

  He turned. She was facing the window and didn't look back at him. "Count on it," he said.

  Outside, he didn't immediately get in his car. Instead, he walked across the street to a seedy half-block neighborhood park. The grass was brown and dry, and what was left of a children's play area rusted forlornly in the far corner: two broken swings and a lumpy slide that would do a hell of a job of tearing a kid's pants.

  He sat on a wooden bench, feeling bleak—and angry. In an odd way, Roxanne Lintz reminded him of Susan Moore. Both had used the same expression, "I let her go." One, because she didn't believe she could do any more for a self-destructing, drug-addicted girl, the other because the call of the trade, money, meant more to her than providing a decent life for her daughter.

  I let her go....

  Dana had used those same words. "I let him go, Cade. You have to find him, you have to."

  He clasped his hands between his knees and dropped his head. I didn't find him for you, love. I tried. God, how I tried....

  "Fuck." He stood, straight and abruptly.

  He was going home, he was going to have a beer, and he was going to find Star Lake. A dead end? Probably. But it was a place to go—and he was sick and tired of talking to himself.

  He had a child to find, then a life to try and live.

  Maybe Baylor was gone, and no doubt the Wartenski girl split years ago, but there was a chance someone in that small town might remember something.

  Anything.

  Chapter 7

  "Addy. You're not going to believe this." Toby was close to hopping down the path to Cabin One, where Addy was putting the last paint strokes on the door trim.

  "What?" she said, not taking her eyes off the bright blue ready to drip from the edge of her brush. She'd been a workaholic ever since her last call from Beauty—two days ago. And because she jumped every time the phone rang, she'd been happy enough to leave the office to Toby and keep herself busy with the maintenance.

  "That last call"—he gestured with his head toward the office—"it was someone called Mrs. Jesse Nordham. She says her daughter's getting married in the spring, and there are a lot of guests coming from out of town. She says she drives by our place on her way to work, and she's noticed how much work's been done."

  "And?" Addy made the last stroke, stood back and studied her work.

  "And... she thinks this'd be a perfect spot for her guests." He paused, puffed up his chest. "All twelve cabins. In early March. Can you believe that?"

  Addy's first thought was will I still be here in March? But she shoved it aside, determined to act as normal as she could, considering Frank Bliss stood at the edge of her life like some not-so jolly green giant. One day at a time, Addilene, one day at a time. And today is a good day. "That's great, Toby. What dates exactly?" She rested her brush on the edge of the can, poured some paint thinner on her blue hands—she was a thorough, but messy painter—and rubbed at them with a rag.

  "Well, now, that's the next part," he said. "She wants to come by and see the inside of the cabins, make sure the place isn't all show on the outside and crappy on the inside."

  "She said that? The crappy bit?"

  "No, not in those words, but I got her meaning." He smiled.

  She smiled back. "Most of them are crappy... but by spring they'll be, if not chic, at least cute." She thought a moment. "If she comes, I can show Four, Six, and Eight. That'll give her an idea. The others"—she waved the paint rag in a circle—"she'll have to trust me on."

  "That's what I figured. Anyway, I told her to come by next week sometime. That okay?"

  "Okay," she said. "Thanks, Toby." Despite the black fog of worry she'd been in for the last two days, Addy couldn't help the surge of satisfaction warming her breast—Star Lake being noticed by someone driving by and looking good enough for her to call was a big turning point.

  Toby was halfway up the hill to the office when he yelled back. "I meant to tell you, there was another call—someone named Beauty. She said she'd call later. Told me to tell you to stop worrying, that she has everything under control. She said you'd know what she meant."

  "Toby."

  At the office door
, he turned back.

  "I told you to come and get me if she called—no matter what."

  "She said not to, that her battery was running down—or something like that. She said just give you the message, and she'd call back later." He went into the office, no doubt to boot up his new computer. He hadn't been off the thing since she'd brought it in yesterday.

  Damn!

  What was Beauty doing? Addy's skin prickled thinking about her. She hoped she wouldn't do anything foolish. God knew Beauty was capable of some huge leaps of logic. That, coupled with her impulsive nature, could mean trouble. Surely she wouldn't try to play games with Frank Bliss.

  She picked up her paint gear, straightened, and let her gaze drift over the lake. Ruffled by the wind, it was a blanket of rippling diamonds in the afternoon sun. She swiveled, her gaze feasting on the tiny property: the cabins, ten of them sporting new paint jobs and looking proud and pretty, the fresh gravel she'd laid in the driveway, and the new sign in amusing fifties-style lettering she'd had done for over the office door. All of it her work, her dream, her safety net.

  She'd hated it when she'd arrived, and detested the cold, cranky Lund Baylor—a man who never seemed to care if she came or went. But over time, Star Lake became her home, and Lund became a friend. She shook her head, smiled faintly. For all the words exchanged between them over the years, she might as well have befriended that old oak down by the lake. But like that oak, Lund was always there—like Star Lake was here now.

  The idea of running again, of leaving her home made her soul ache, but if that's what it took to protect Beauty and Gus, that's what she'd do.

  She sucked in a breath, told herself to stop worrying. There was nothing she could do—at least not today. For now, she'd accept that Beauty told the truth, that things were under control, which she took to mean she'd lost Bliss somewhere on route. If she was wrong, she'd find out soon enough.

  She headed for the maintenance shed, but hadn't taken more than three steps before she heard a car turn off the highway and scrunch its way along her new gravel.

  She looked over her shoulder to see a Cherokee—maybe three or four years old—pull up to the office steps. A man and a dog—probably the same age as the truck—got out. Knowing Toby would handle them, Addy continued on to the shed and stowed her supplies neatly on the shelves.

  The man was coming out of the office as she approached. The big yellow dog, who'd been sitting outside the door, got up, wagging its tail and wiggling its rear end as if he'd been abandoned for a month rather than the few minutes it had taken for his owner to check in.

  There were three steps up to the office door. From the bottom one, she said, "Friendly?" And nodded at the dog.

  The man smiled and patted the dog's head. "A teddy bear, especially if there's food around."

  "Does he have a name?" She ran a hand along the silky fur on his back. She really should get a dog... if she stayed.

  "Redge." He shifted his gaze from the dog and met hers. "What about you?"

  Her nerves jangled, and she tucked her hands in the pockets of her overalls. "Me?" she said, sounding confused and stupid and knowing she was neither.

  "Name. Do you have one?"

  She pulled her hands from her pockets, stuck one out straight as a lance, and said, "Addy Michaels. I'm the owner of Star Lake."

  She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw him blink a couple of times, his eyes sharpen. He definitely hesitated before taking her hand, then smiled as if he was obliged to, kind of cool and polite. "Addy. I'm Cade Harding. Nice to meet you."

  "Likewise. I take it you'll be staying with us?" She dropped to one knee to pet the dog, and get out from under his eyes, which suddenly seemed a bit too intense.

  "A couple of days at least." He hesitated. "Maybe more."

  She got to her feet, risked looking up at him. He resembled Gus a little, or how she imagined Gus would look with a few years on him. Dark hair, dark eyes, a bit of stubble around the chin, body on the lean side. Gus's face would be harder though, colder, not so... bookish or calm. And his eyes were a strange amber brown, nothing at all like Cade Harding's, which were a green color that reminded Addy of cedar boughs. "You sound like a man without a destination."

  He didn't smile this time, but he did tilt his head a bit. Her nerves skittered again. She didn't like it.

  "I've got a destination, all right," he said. "The end of a book. It's in my car. I'm a writer looking for a quiet place to get some work done." He glanced around. "From the road, Star Lake looked perfect."

  Addy started up the stairs to the office. "What cabin did Toby put you in?"

  He dangled his key. "Number Two."

  She shook her head. "Wait here." She went into the office and grabbed the key for the newly renovated Cabin Six.

  Outside she handed it to him. "Six faces the lake. If quiet is what you want, it's the best one." Their hands brushed when they exchanged keys.

  "Thanks," he said, and continued to look at her in that funny, concentrated way he had.

  She studied him, a tickle of nerves playing along her nape. "Do I remind you of someone?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  "You stare. Quite a lot, actually."

  He averted his eyes a second, then swung them back to meet hers directly. "I didn't expect—I'm surprised, I guess. Resort owners aren't usually so young... so pretty."

  Addy's jaw slackened. She had paint on her pants, probably her face, and she was certain her hair was a fright wig with blue highlights. The man was mad. If her nerves had jangled before, something was plucking them wild now. She had no idea how to respond. Getting a compliment was a whole new experience.

  It turned out she didn't have to. The man tossed his key, let it fall back into his palm, and closed his hand around it "Cabin Six. Thanks, Addy Michaels." Then he walked away, Redge hard on his heel.

  She stood there like a dope and watched him and his dog get in his car and drive down to his cabin. He waved from the door before going inside.

  Addy stepped into the office and peered out the window. Her nerves weren't rattling anymore. They were sensitized and on full alert.

  She remembered the feeling from being on the streets—a weird tickle across her shoulders, like a dozen spiders playing hopscotch on her nape. Experience had taught her to heed that tickle, because more times than she could count it meant trouble ahead.

  "Seems like a nice enough fellow."

  She started. She'd forgotten entirely that Toby was in the office, lurking behind his new computer screen. "Yeah," she said, turning away from the window. "Where's he from?"

  Toby peered around the screen. "Seattle, he says. And he isn't married."

  "Huh?"

  Toby wiggled his eyebrows. "I thought you might be interested, the way you were staring out that window."

  "Toby, if you start the matchmaking thing, that computer goes back in the box—and you along with it."

  Undaunted, he waved his index finger. "You were watching him... I saw you." The last three words were singsong.

  "Oh... go multiply something. Preferably our profits." She rounded the counter and made a straight line for her apartment behind the office and firmly closed the door.

  Toby was right, she was watching him, but not for the usual you-Tarzan-me Jane reasons.

  And I'll continue to watch you, Cade Harding. Those hopscotching spiders haven't been wrong yet.

  * * *

  Cade couldn't believe it. If that wasn't Addilene Wartenski, he'd get down on all fours and eat Redge's dinner.

  Same age, same coloring... and that name. Addy. Too close to be a coincidence. It had to be her, had to.

  Which meant she'd been here all along. The whole fifteen years since the murder and kidnapping. How the hell had the cops missed finding her? Then... considering Roxanne's relationship with the law, how could they? No way would she tell them Dianna and her friend had a safe haven with an old client.

  If Cade had a million questions before, now he h
ad another million. His slim hope in coming to Star Lake centered on finding a fresh lead, and he'd thought that chance remote. He sure as hell hadn't expected to come face-to-face with Addilene Wartenski, wearing torn overalls, covered in blue paint, with a hairdo that looked as if she'd done it herself with dull shears during a sleepwalk—and the brightest, shrewdest eyes he'd ever seen in a woman.

  Standing in the sightline of those eyes was goddamn life-threatening.

  He was so shocked upon finding her here, he was paralyzed, had no idea what his next move should be—which meant the smart move was to do nothing at all.

  He walked to the cabin window and looked across the small, pristine lake to the stands of trees that hid the farmland he knew was on the other side, and the mountains behind that. Near the dock, which had a half dozen or so canoes and rowboats tethered to it, a weeping willow rested its branches on the water.

  Cade focused on the gently swaying branches, ran a hand through his hair, and told himself to ease down, think.

  Information. He needed information. Which meant taking it slow and easy. He didn't want to scare her off, set her running. He reminded himself he was dealing with a woman who had an outstanding arrest warrant. She might have been a kid at the time, but when murder and kidnapping were the charges, the case was never deep-sixed.

  He tried to think of the woman he'd just met as an accomplice to murder, as a kidnapper. But while he couldn't make the image stick, he told himself not to forget the police reports, or Frank Bliss's damning statement.

  He looked at the phone, thought about calling Susan and Stan, but decided to wait. To be on the safe side, he'd drive into Lynden, the nearest town, do some more checking, and call from there. It occurred to him that he should probably reactivate his cell phone when he got back to Seattle. After Dana's death, he'd let the battery run out and stuffed it in a drawer. His cell used to be like another appendage, always with him. Now he didn't think about it.