Cabin 12

by Freya Barker

  I didn’t disagree with Bella’s mom and sister when they reminded me of my shortcomings in the relationship department. Her mother didn’t mince words when she told me I was responsible for her daughter being taken, but it was the words of her sister that affected me most. She questioned whether I was the right person for her sister. Wondered what I thought I could offer her in terms of stability, given my chosen career, especially since Bella would always struggle with depression.

  I had no answer for her. That in itself I found telling enough.

  So instead of following my heart and sticking as close as I could to Bella’s side, I walked out of the hospital, driven by my conscience.

  Bella

  “Want me to make you some more?” Kerry points at my empty coffee cup.

  I can’t believe I slept straight through the night. I never noticed Kerry crawling into bed with me at some point, which she said she did. Almost eleven hours of solid sleep.

  “I’ll do it,” I tell her. “You sit for a bit.” She’d been up before me and had breakfast going when I padded into the kitchen earlier. “How long do you figure it’ll take the family to show up?”

  Kerry grins. “Damian’s got it covered. At least for a while. I had him on the phone earlier, and he told me he begged Ma for tamales, threw in there he hadn’t tasted a proper Mexican meal in three weeks, cranking up the guilt. Of course your mother had the whole house in overdrive, sent your dad out for groceries at the butt crack of dawn, and arm-wrestled your sisters into preparing a proper Mexican feast. I suggested he tell them I would bring you over there this afternoon, provided you feel up to it.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle my mother right now.”

  “You won’t have to. I’m pretty sure Damian will, and if he doesn’t, you and I will get back in the car and beeline it out of there. If there was ever a time for you to assert yourself, it would be now. You have a choice as to how much you are willing to put up with, Bella.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No buts. You’ve already proven you’re no wilting flower, for Pete’s sake. Just because some in your family choose to treat you like one doesn’t make it so. You should know better.”

  “God, I’m so happy you’re home,” I sniff, rounding the counter and grabbing my sister-in-law in a big hug.

  “Me too. Although, I might tell you a different story tomorrow when I have to get up early for work.”

  A single knock sounds at the door and I snicker. “Apparently you’re overestimating my brother’s influence,” I tease, looking back at the kitchen as I go to let in what I assume will be my family.

  “Hey.”

  I whip around at the sound of Jasper’s voice, who is leaning against one of the porch posts, looking at me from under his eyebrows.

  “Oh. Hey,” is all I manage, a bit tongue-tied, and more than a little embarrassed. I never even tried to contact him to thank him. Sure, I no longer have a phone, but I could easily have gotten the number off Damian.

  “Damian asked me to come and take your statement.”

  The closed off look on his face, combined with those dispassionate words, send me straight from embarrassed to injured, and anger wraps around me like a protective cloak.

  Really?

  “Oh, he did, did he? Let me get this straight; you’re telling me the reason you’re here is because my brother asked you? That’s priceless.” I don’t even bother holding back on the venom in my tone.

  “Squirt...” he mumbles, but I’m already too far lost in my head of steam to let the nickname, which just days ago would make me feel safe and protected, sway me from my path.

  “No. You don’t get to call me that. Didn’t take much to set you running did it? Did you suddenly decide I was too much of a challenge? Too damaged for ya? Too fragile?” Hot tears come spilling down my cheek as I rant, and I agitatedly brush at them.

  “That’s not—” he starts, but I stop him with a hand in his face.

  I’m angry and so hurt. I trusted him, opened up for him in a way I never had for anyone. I feel exposed to the core, and found lacking. Again.

  Suddenly deflated, I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head. “Tell my brother he can come get his damn statement himself.”

  Without even looking at him, I turn back inside, swing the door shut behind me, and walk straight into Kerry, who closes me in her arms.

  “Honey, maybe you should give him a chance to talk before—”

  Behind me the door slams open and I’m suddenly pulled from Kerry’s hold and swung around by an angry looking Jasper.

  “Goddammit, Bella,” he swears, cupping my face in his large hands and tilting it up. “Jesus, how can someone so smart get it so fucking backward?” He barely gets his words out before his lips take mine in a bruising kiss, laced with anger and regret. I find myself leaning in and almost whimper when he pulls back, leaving his forehead pressed against mine. “Don’t you see?” he mumbles softly. “It’s me who comes up short.”

  Next thing I know, he is stalking out the door.

  “Oh my,” Kerry whispers behind me.

  “What just happened?” I ask no one in particular, trying to get my bearings after going through what feels like an emotional spin cycle. My eyes land on Kerry, who is inexplicably smiling. “What?”

  “That boy’s got it bad.”

  NOT TEN MINUTES LATER, there’s another knock at the door and this time I let Kerry do the honors. She walks back in with Luna in tow.

  “Let me guess; you’re here to take my statement?”

  Luna nods, the corners of her mouth quirking. “I am. Jasper needs some time to dislodge his head from his ass. I hear it can be a painful process.”

  Kerry bursts out laughing, and I can’t hold back a snicker, even though I still feel like I’m standing on quicksand.

  It takes well over two hours for Luna to take me through the details of the past few days, but the longest time is spent on the things Connor told me about his family. Luna wanted every detail, urged me to recall exact wording, tone, demeanor.

  By the time she leaves, it’s just after noon, and despite my eleven-hour night, I am wrung out and ready for a nap. I mention as much to Kerry.

  “Then go lie down. I’ll wake you up around three. That should give you enough time to get cleaned up before we head out for dinner.”

  Fuck. That’s right, dinner with my family. I need all the rest I can get before wading into that.

  Jasper

  I couldn’t let her think she was in any way the cause.

  That’s why I stalked in after her. Granted, kissing her may not have been the best idea, under the circumstances, mostly because it made my resolve waver, but at least I managed to get the beaten down look from her eyes.

  The office is quiet. Dylan had to take Max in to the dentist, there’s no sign yet of Damian, and Luna is taking her sweet time at Bella’s. I just got off the phone with Jimmy Wells, the old man’s brother and former owner of cabin twelve. He actually called me. Mentioned Momma left word for him yesterday, but he wasn’t able to get to a phone until today. He was able to tell me he sold Connor the cabin the summer of last year. Said he’d been happy to take the ten thousand cash at the time. The kid didn’t seem to feel the need for paperwork, and neither had Jimmy, who’d had to shut down operations when the IRS came after him for tax evasion. Apparently he’d been running his place off the books the whole time he had it, so he didn’t look too closely when offered a plastic bag with five bundles of a hundred twenties each. He used the money to buy an old RV, packed up his wife, and has been on the road ever since. When I asked why he didn’t seem too concerned telling me all this, he just laughed. Said he figured I had better things to do than chase him. He didn’t sound even a bit worried. Quite the character.

  Tying off the loose ends of an investigation is always a tedious job and can often take months to complete, but there’s a sense of urgency in this case, since it’s leading into a whole different investigation.
Jimmy didn’t have much to add, other than to confirm what we already know. I’m hoping my next call will be a little more productive.

  “Trish? Hi, my name is Jasper Greene, FBI. I’m a colleague of Dylan’s? He gave me your number, and I was wondering if this is a good time to talk.”

  “Talk? Is Dylan okay?”

  “He’s fine. I’m actually hoping you might be able to help with a rather sensitive investigation.”

  “I’m just on my way out the door. My shift starts at one.”

  “Understood. Perhaps I could meet you somewhere after?”

  “Should I be worried?” she asks apprehensively.

  “Not at all. In fact, I’ll be happy to have Dylan come with me, if that makes it easier for you?”

  “If you don’t mind,” she says, sounding relieved.

  “Won’t be a problem, just tell me when and where.”

  She tells me she should be done around nine, so to meet her at Durango Joe’s, a coffee shop on the south side of town not far from her work, at nine twenty. I leave a message with Dylan to get him up to speed.

  I return my focus on the outline I’m putting together to back up my case for an official investigation into the shooting death of Franklin Davis and the suspected police cover-up after. This cannot have been a one-man job. It’s the reason I want to speak to Dylan’s friend in dispatch. If she wasn’t the one who took the call, she might know who did, or be able to help us find out. I’m on a fishing expedition, but I’ll be damned if I let this go, especially after seeing what I saw yesterday.

  I look up when Luna walks in.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “Don’t complain,” she counters, flopping down in the chair at her desk. “I don’t do things fast, I do them thoroughly, and if you weren’t such an ass, you would’ve had the information already.” I’m not sure how she concluded I am an ass, but I’m not really debating it. “And let me tell you, she was a treasure trove of information.”

  “How’s that?” My interest is piqued.

  “The mother’s suicide? He swore to Bella his mother was murdered. Hung from the rafters in the attic when she wouldn’t stop asking questions about her husband’s death, according to him. Said his grandfather was paid off to keep quiet.”

  “Holy shit. I didn’t think this could get any more fucked up, but apparently it can.”

  “Yup. Once you set on a certain course, there’s just no turning back,” she says, with a meaningful look in my direction. I’m not sure she’s referring to the case, to me, or to both, but she immediately follows it up, making her point clear. “You’d know.”

  CHAPTER 22

  BELLA

  “You must be exhausted.”

  Kerry clearly interpreted my pleading look correctly.

  Dinner has been painfully awkward, starting with the bruising hug Ma gave me when we walked in the door. Not that anyone has said anything untoward, but more that nothing was said at all. Everyone seems to fall into their regular patterns—as if nothing has changed—when everything has. It shows in the way they leave me out of the banter. Like they’re afraid to set off the crazy person in the family. I hate it.

  Other than Kerry and my brother, the only person even close to normal is Papa. He’s the one who asked if I was doing okay, something that earned him glares from Ma and the girls. I brushed it off with an easy, “I’m fine.” Something that didn’t please him but seemed to satisfy the rest.

  No one mentioned Jasper.

  After an hour, I was already fed up. I barely managed to eat anything, but even that went either unnoticed or ignored by most.

  I love my mother, and my sisters, but I just can’t be around them right now. I can’t seem to settle in the place carved out for me in the family dynamic. It feels like taking off your shoe for a minute, after a day being on your feet, and finding you can’t fit back into it.

  That’s when I caught Kerry’s eye and sent her silent call for help.

  “Actually, I am pretty tired,” I play along, getting up from my seat.

  “But we haven’t had dessert yet,” Ma points out.

  “I’m not really that hungry.”

  “You need some decent food in you,” she pushes on, and I know what’s coming. “Things always look better on a full stomach. You need to eat better, that’s your problem.”

  The line I grew up with whenever I was sad, disappointed, or upset. Food fixes everything, at least in my family. She doesn’t even realize she trivializes the issue. My mother loves hard, but she loves tough too. She’s one of those people you have to remind yourself ‘means well.’

  “I’m just gonna grab a few clean clothes for tomorrow,” Kerry announces, I’m sure to break the tension.

  “You should just stay home. I’ll be fine,” I tell her with a quick smile, to show her I didn’t mean for that to sound quite as abrupt as it may have.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone,” Chrissy contributes, only making me that more determined.

  “Are you sure?” Kerry asks, efficiently dismissing my sister’s opinion, while clearly valuing mine. It means everything.

  “Positive. I could do with some solo time, and you should reacquaint yourself with your new husband.”

  “Good plan,” Damian grumbles, getting up from the table, and I shoot him a grateful smile. Both for making this easy, even when I know he’d probably prefer to camp out on my doorstep himself, but also for making it clear my opinion is the only one that matters in this.

  “Seriously, Damian?” Gabby pipes up, and my mother is not far behind.

  “I still think—” she starts, but Papa’s had enough

  “Basta. I’m going to see Isabella out, and you girls start getting your things together—we’ll be heading home to Farmington soon.”

  Not paying any mind to the collective protests following his declaration, he waits for me to say my goodbyes, takes my arm, and walks me outside.

  “Are you going to call that young man?” he asks when we get to my car.

  “I don’t know, Papa. I think maybe I’m a bit too much for him to handle.”

  It wasn’t meant to be funny, but apparently he thinks otherwise, laughing at me.

  “Mi hija, you are no more too much for him than he is not enough for you, which is what your sister told him.”

  “Still,” I dismiss him. “Maybe a little space is not so bad. You know what they say about relationships forged under extreme circumstances. They never last.” That makes him laugh even harder.

  “Eres tonta. If you learn anything from me, learn this: relationships are about the people in them, not the circumstances surrounding them.”

  I HAVE TO ADMIT, THERE have been times this past week when I was tempted to call him. Especially that first night alone.

  I came home after my father saw me off, and I was almost too scared to go inside by myself, but I did. Just like Jasper had done for me before, I checked every space in my house; under beds, behind curtains, and in closets—and made sure the windows were all properly locked—before I could even begin to relax.

  Waking up alone in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, and with my heart racing a mile a minute because of a nightmare, had not been fun either, but I survived that too.

  I spent some time at Kerry’s store, helping her do inventory and picking up a few books for myself. I went to the hairdresser one day, and the next I had a pedicure. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed time to slow down to a pace where I was able to read or be pampered.

  I even went out for dinner alone one night. Truth be told, I did try to call Joanne to go with me, but couldn’t get hold of her.

  On top of that, I drove to Aztec twice to see Dr. Patterson.

  Ryan popped in this past weekend to see for himself I’m indeed good enough to be added onto the new schedule, starting today. No more night shifts. The bruising on my ribs is already fading, and other than a dark spot on the outside of my left eye, and some faint ye
llow at my hairline, my face is once again presentable.

  I don’t doubt he also wanted to get a bead on my emotional state.

  Papa checked in with me a few times and put Ma on the phone last time he called. She couldn’t help herself and asked if I was eating okay, but after that tentatively asked when I thought I might go back to work. Probably the first time she talked about my job without immediately feeling judgment.

  It’s with a piece of advice Dr. Patterson handed me—I can’t control or change life around me or the people in it, but I can change my own response to it—that I’m able to start looking at things in a different light. Everything is not criticism, everything is not a reflection on me. Sometimes the things people say are more about them than they are about me.

  I’m glad I spent some time by myself, just being. I still have to fight the urge to make myself busy doing something; anything to drown out the thoughts and emotions I’m not sure what to do with, but this time I simply let them all bubble to the surface. Yeah, there was a time I crawled into bed in the middle of the day, in an effort to hide from myself, and once or twice I cried until I was afraid I’d never be able to stop, but those passed and I’m still here. I’m starting to believe if I don’t try to continuously keep a lid on my emotions, and simply deal with them in the moment, I may actually be better off in the long run.

  “I FORGOT TO ASK YOU yesterday,” Ryan says, when we’re on our way to the second call of the day.

  The first had been a fairly minor crash, and although one driver had a few scrapes, it didn’t warrant a trip to the ER. Now we’re on our way to a seniors’ home to transfer one of the residents to the hospital. So far a quiet shift.

  “What?”

  “How are things with your FBI agent?”

  Jasper

  I watch as the door opens next to the two-story townhouse I’ve been staring at for the past hour. Surveillance sucks, but since I still haven’t been able to link McMahan to Lipczyk with any concrete evidence, I’ve had to resort to the very basic of investigative tools, and that is observing.