by Dana Mentink
Bill wanted to sit with Heather and Aunt Jean, to ease the worry that shone on both their faces, but he couldn’t make himself do it. The anger and helplessness flooded through him like a poison as he paced the floor.
“Tell us, Billy,” Aunt Jean said.
He held up a hand. “I’ll handle it. I don’t want you upset.”
Heather shook her head, eyes never leaving his face. “This involves all of us and we have a right to know. What did Oscar say?”
Bill tried to replay the stream of hatred in his mind. “He blames me for the death of his wife and son.”
Aunt Jean frowned. “His wife? Hazel? But he killed that poor child not a half mile from here. How could that be your fault?”
“I don’t know. And he implied he knows something about Leanne’s death.”
Heather looked questioningly at him, but he could not bring himself to tell her about Leanne.
Aunt Jean patted Heather’s hand. “Leanne was a good girl, a great big sister to Bill and she tried her best to be a good mother to her twins, Kelly and Rose. She had a hard time beating her addiction.”
He saw Heather’s face flood with color. In that moment he hoped she might understand why he’d arrested her that night.
Aunt Jean chewed her fingernail thoughtfully. “We thought she’d done it. Clean for almost a year. Going to school and earning a little money doing some janitorial work at the lab, until she was found dead of an overdose.”
Bill gritted his teeth. How he hated that word. Overdose. It made his sister sound like a common junkie, a piece of trash, not the vibrant, genuine person she had been. His big sister. And he’d lost her. “Egan should have told me she was using again.”
Heather gave him a puzzled look. “Dr. Egan?”
“He was her boss. He knew she was recovering. He should have told me she was having trouble and maybe I could have intervened.”
Aunt Jean raised her chin. “You know this wasn’t Dr. Egan’s fault. He was her employer—we were her family.” She sighed. “We should have known, you and me.”
He knew she was right. He didn’t want to twist his sorrow into blame the way Oscar had done, but the pain rose up as fresh as it had been since Leanne’s body was discovered.
Heather spoke, her voice soft. “Do you think Oscar was involved in her death somehow?”
He shook his head. “No. I think he wants to make me believe he has power, that he’s responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to me, because in his mind I’m the cause of every tragedy in his life.”
Aunt Jean frowned. “Oh, Billy. He’s a bad one. Anyone who could kill Hazel, that sweet lady.”
“Did you know her well?” Heather asked.
“Well enough. She grew up here on the reservation. She … she was on her way back, they think, running from Oscar, but he caught her before she made it. Caught her and killed her.”
Bill felt a sudden rush of anger that he could not control. He slammed his hand down on the table, making both women jump. “The fact is, Oscar is right. He does have the power because he knows the best way to hurt me is by hurting you two.”
Heather put her hand over his, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “Then we will just have to be smarter than he is until you catch him.”
He looked into her eyes and saw the same determined woman he’d known before. He wondered if she could see the fear in his eyes. His throat tightened.
Crow and Rudley pulled up and entered the trailer. Aunt Jean plied them with iced tea and potato chips.
Rudley took a videotape from his pocket. “We traced the call. You’re not going to believe this.”
Bill braced himself. At this point he didn’t see how things could possibly be worse.
“The number Oscar called from was the pay phone, just across the street from Tribal Ranger headquarters,” Rudley said.
Heather’s mouth fell open.
Bill straightened. “That’s monitored. There’s a camera… .”
Rudley held up a hand. “Yes, we’ve got him on camera. Here’s a copy.”
He popped the tape into Aunt Jean’s VCR and they watched the gray image come into view. Oscar wore a baseball hat and plaid shirt. He made no effort to try to conceal his face from the camera. At the end of the call, he unfolded a large piece of paper and held it up.
They leaned forward.
Crow pointed to the screen. “It’s a date, isn’t it? Nine, one and the year?”
Bill nodded slowly. “Yes, September first.”
“That’s next week. What does it mean, Bill?” Heather said.
“It was his son Autie’s birthday.” Bill stared at the grainy image, the evil smile on Oscar’s face. “It’s the day he’s going to try and kill me.”
Heather tried to keep herself calm for Aunt Jean’s sake. The woman looked pale despite her tanned skin. Her mouth opened, but she did not say anything. Heather fetched her a glass of water and watched as she drank it. After a few deep breaths, she seemed to recover.
“What can we do to help you, Bill?” She squeezed Heather’s fingers. “I’m sure this young lady agrees with me that we’re in this together.”
Together? They certainly were drawn together by the actions of a crazed maniac, but being together with Bill meant possibly resurrecting the past, and that was a recipe for pain. She forced herself to nod anyway. “What should we do?”
Bill’s tone was exasperated. “You should leave town, but we already tried that option.”
The comment brought Heather back to the present. “My mother. I need to get home and check on her.”
Bill nodded. “I’ll go with you. Aunt Jean, why don’t you come, too?”
She shook her head firmly. “No. I need to stay here. I’m tutoring some children in math later and I’m not going to cancel out on them because of some lunatic.”
Heather saw the ghost of a smile on Bill’s face. “I thought you were going to say something like that.” He gestured to Crow and Rudley. “Can you keep watch on Aunt Jean?”
“I will,” Crow said. “I’ll stay awhile and check in every hour.”
Heather wondered if he resented being asked to babysit. It didn’t appear so.
Aunt Jean had a slightly bemused expression on her face. “I can perfectly well take care of myself, but if that makes you feel better, I’ll make us a snack.”
Heather followed Bill and Rudley outside. Rudley excused himself to go back to the station and continue the search.
“Keep your heads down and don’t try any heroic stuff,” he told Bill. “You’re not wearing a badge anymore.”
Bill’s face darkened as he waited for her and Choo Choo to get into the Jeep. He slammed into his truck, gunned the engine and they began the trip back to her place, stopping only long enough for Bill to pick up Tank.
Heather brooded over the last few miles. Five days. In five days Oscar Birch was going to try his best to kill Bill, and he would use Bill’s weaknesses to do it. Heather knew that right or wrong, Oscar counted her as one of Bill’s greatest vulnerabilities.
Little did he know it was all in the past. She remembered the feel of Bill’s arms around her as he’d pulled her protectively to himself. Her breath caught as she swallowed a wave of longing followed by the bitter sting of guilt. His own sister had died from her addiction. How had he felt seeing another woman he loved overcome by a need that had gotten out of control?
She fought down the flood of emotion. Maybe there was something she could dig up on Oscar that would help the police catch him. In the meantime, she had to earn a living and take care of her mother.
Her mother. It was still strange to believe her mother was back in her life.
Or was she? Maybe when the slow life in South Dakota began to wear on her she’d be gone again, just like before.
On the heels of that difficult thought, they pulled up to the cabin and she was surprised to see a Lexus parked in front that she recognized as Dr. Egan’s. Another detail struck her with terror. The f
ront door of the house was open.
She leaped from the car and Choo Choo followed, but Bill and Tank were faster.
“Stay here,” he whispered, drawing a gun. He murmured something to Tank in a language she didn’t know. The dog charged into the house, body rigid with excitement.
She knelt next to Choo Choo and circled his neck for comfort.
Heather felt as if she’d been dropped into a bad movie. Had Oscar gotten to her mother? How would she feel if he had? Warring emotions fought inside her; fear, anger, resentment at the fact that she couldn’t decide on any one emotion. Her mother shouldn’t even be here.
Fear for Bill weighed on her, as well. The date caught on camera could have been a ruse. When the panic became too much to stand she crept into the house, Choo Choo at her side. There was a shout and loud barking. Both Heather and the dog broke into a run, charging forward, thoughts flying wildly through her head as she pictured her mother or Bill struck down at the hands of Oscar Birch.
The place was empty.
She frantically dashed from room to room, Choo Choo lumbering behind.
No sign of anyone.
The tumult came from outside, she realized, and she charged through the back door, running down the sloped path that led past the small porch to the wilder portions of the property.
Heart hammering, she saw three figures, indistinct because of the harsh sunlight that struck at her. With a surge of terror she realized one of the people was sprawled on the ground.
Bill watched Heather as she took it all in. The stricken person was her mother, propped against a rock, Tank on alert close to Dr. Egan, who stood, face pale, next to her. Bill could see the warring emotions on Heather’s face as her glance shifted from her mother to Egan to Bill and back to her mother.
Bill holstered his weapon. “I told you to stay out front.”
She shrugged, probably still trying to master her swarm of emotions. “Sometimes I don’t do what I’m told.”
Bill’s lip curled and he almost laughed. “You don’t say.”
“What is going on?” She shot a tentative glance at her mother. “Are you hurt?”
Her mother shook her head. “I wanted to come take a look at the place again and I tripped. My cane went flying and I had some trouble getting back on my feet.” Her lips were tight with frustration, or maybe it was disgust. Heather could not be sure.
Dr. Egan cleared his throat. “She heard my car pull up and called for help. I let myself in and found her.”
“Fortunately, I forgot to lock the door.”
Bill bit back a reprimand as Egan continued.
“We were just about to move back in the house when Bill and the attack dog came charging in.” He chuckled. “Nearly scared us both out of our wits.”
“Tank will do that,” Bill said, giving the dog a pat.
Heather wiped at her forehead. “Let’s go back into the house and we can talk.” She glanced at her mother. “Are you able …?”
“Yes,” Margot snapped. “Quite able, thank you.” She grabbed the cane from Egan’s hand and pulled herself up, ignoring his offered hand. Shoulders straight as ever, she made her way back to the house, while they followed.
Heather lagged back to stand next to Bill. “You thought it was Oscar?” she whispered.
He sighed. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“Why do you look like you’re still angry?”
He wondered how she always seemed to know how he was feeling. “Not angry. Egan brings back bad memories, is all.”
They didn’t speak anymore until they got back into the relative cool of the cabin. Egan and Margot sat on the couch and accepted glasses of iced tea. Bill stood, arms folded across his chest.
“So what brought you by here, Dr. Egan?” Heather said after she put out water bowls for the two dogs.
“I got your message about the fossil find and my curiosity was piqued. That’s part of the thing I love about this area. The paleontological history is stunning. The Badlands are known for their abundance of fossil mammals, but there’s a good quantity of nonmammalian and plant fossils, as well.” He smiled. “Sorry. I get carried away sometimes. Anyway, I called Jean’s place to see if you were still there.”
Bill felt a scowl form on his face at the familiar use of his aunt’s name. He stared at Egan intently. “Haven’t seen you at Aunt Jean’s since I’ve been back.”
Egan seemed to come to some decision. He squared his shoulders. “You made it clear that you don’t want me around your aunt, Bill.”
Bill stared at him. “You know why I feel that way.”
“As I said before, I had only suspicions that your sister was using drugs when she worked for me. If I had had proof—seen her shooting up, let’s say—I would have come to you, but families are complicated and I wasn’t sure it was right to go to her brother with suspicions.”
Bill’s eyes flickered and he looked away momentarily. A suspicion might have been enough for him to save her life. But, situation reversed, would he have intervened if it had been Egan’s sister? A man he hardly knew? He shook his head. “That’s in the past.”
Though he did not make eye contact, he felt the doctor’s gaze on him.
“I think maybe it’s not,” Egan said softly. He drained the glass of tea as the phone rang.
Bill and Heather exchanged a dark look. “Let it ring,” he mouthed to her. If it was Oscar, he didn’t want to confirm that Heather was home. Perhaps Oscar might think that Heather had flown out of town. He didn’t believe it was likely, but the guy had to make a miscalculation sometime.
An angry voice poured through the answering-machine speaker. “Fernandes, someone hacked into our site using your password. You can see the results for yourself. I’m giving you ten minutes to see before I take it down.” There was muffled swearing on the answering machine. “Get me a real story by tomorrow night, and I’m not kidding around. Mr. Brown left a message for you to come see him tomorrow. Write that one up if you want, but get me something.”
Heather finally made it to the phone just as the “end of message” tone sounded. “What in the world is he talking about?”
Bill gestured to her laptop, a feeling of dread in his gut. “The online site for the Blaze. Pull it up.”
They all crowded around Heather as she booted up the computer and accessed the website. The story materialized in a moment.
No title, the font larger than the rest of the site.
Obituary for Bill Cloudman. On September 1 former Tribal Ranger Bill Cloudman will be tried, found guilty and executed for the crime of putting to death an innocent boy, Autie Birch. Cloudman has lived in shame since he allowed his partner, Johnny Moon, to walk into a deadly explosion to protect himself at the expense of a young man who trusted him. Bill lost his partner, his badge and his town by his cowardice. He will not be missed.
NINE
He heard Heather gasp as she read her own name on the byline. She looked at him, eyes round with horror. “Bill … I never …”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I know. Oscar hacked into the system. Your editor will take it down soon.”
Margot’s voice jerked him from his reverie. “Is this the man who is stalking you?”
Egan whistled. “If he’s able to hack into your work system, who knows what else he can do?”
Heather groaned. “I’m going to lose my job.”
He wanted to hold her, to apologize for jeopardizing her work, but she was up and pacing.
“I’ve got to get my editor a story.”
“The fossils—” Egan suggested.
Bill cut him off. “No. No one is crawling around my aunt’s property until this thing with Oscar is resolved.”
Heather mumbled to herself. “It will have to be Mr. Brown’s story. I’ll write up the uranium thing tomorrow. Take some pictures. It will buy me some time.”
Margot cocked her head. “Uranium? That’s my field. I can help you. Take readings, if I can find the equipment.”<
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Heather’s face was awash in disbelief. A little girl’s face peeked out of the woman’s, tender and vulnerable. Seeing that look on her face was almost too much for him. Though he wanted to tell Heather to forget it, to stay inside and let things slide until Oscar was brought down, he would not sever the delicate thread that bound mother and daughter at that moment.
Heather was still gaping at her mother when Egan spoke up. “I can lend you the equipment. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
Heather alternately went pale and then flushed pink. “Oh … okay. Tomorrow, then.”
Egan walked to the door. He turned to Bill before he left. “I really did like your sister very much, Mr. Cloudman. I was trying to help her by getting her that janitorial job at the lab. I wonder every day if I made a mistake not telling you about my suspicions.”
Bill nodded slightly. The thought came from the dark place inside. Yes, you did and you won’t find forgiveness here.
Margot was fingering the top of her cane. “It’s settled, then. We’ll go tomorrow and see if we can get you a story. I think I’ll lie down for a while now.” She got up and limped down the hall.
Egan left, closing the door softly behind him.
Heather stood with a dazed expression on her face. “She offered to help. She knows it’s a rag magazine, a trash paper.”
He felt his heart fill. “And she knows it’s important to you.”
Heather’s eyes brimmed and she bit her lip. “But she doesn’t care. She never cared. She left me and Dad.”
Before he realized it, he had her in his arms and he was caressing her back, his lips brushing across her hair, inhaling the subtle scent of her. “People do terrible things, Heather, even to the ones they love.”
“This is too much,” Heather cried into his chest. “I don’t know what to think or feel.”
He sighed, enjoying her softness. “I can’t give you any advice there. I’m no good at the tender stuff.”
She pulled away and looked at him, a tear glistening in each eye. “You used to be before… .”
