Escape From the Badlands

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Escape From the Badlands Page 7

by Dana Mentink


  He heaved a sigh and rolled the cup between his palms, as though fighting off a chill.

  “Shane? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Unexpectedly his face softened into a wistful smile. “How can you tell I’m holding something back?”

  “It’s the same look Charlie gives me when he’s filled his pockets from the cookie jar.”

  He laughed. “You know, you’re a real good mom.”

  The comment stunned her for a moment. He’d told her once that his mother was the greatest woman he had ever known. She wondered why sadness shimmered in his eyes when he’d said it. “Thank you.” She fiddled with her own cup to buy herself a moment, unable to stop the angry thought that rose up in her mind. If he thought she was great mother material, why had he run? Why had he tossed her heart away and taken off when she’d decided to raise Charlie? He didn’t have to sign on to be a father, but abandoning her had been a coward’s choice. She wanted to lash out, but it was not the time. She cleared her throat.

  “So why do you think someone would try to sabotage Betsy’s bike?”

  “I don’t,” he said, crushing the empty cup in his palm. “The bike was mine. She took it by mistake.”

  Shane watched Kelly pace the small courtyard, making various calls back to camp to report on Betsy’s condition. The doctor confirmed that Betsy was indeed fine, bruised and banged up, but otherwise okay. Though he recommended strongly that she skip the race the following day, his shrug told them he realized the futility of forbidding Betsy from any such activity.

  It was several hours before she was released and they began the car drive back. Kelly avoided looking at Shane, and he could tell he’d upset her with his revelation. Betsy sat in sullen silence in the backseat. Shane eased into some small talk, which got only one-word answers. He went for a more direct approach.

  “So Betsy, how did you meet Ackerman?”

  She blinked. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious.”

  Betsy looked out the window as she answered. “He came to a coffee shop where I worked last year, and I heard him talking about the race. I sort of tagged along and volunteered to help out, got to know everyone.”

  “What was the last race like? Heard they had a horseback-riding event.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Yes, but that didn’t last long.”

  “Why? I could go for some riding.”

  She shrugged and fingered the bandage on her brow.

  Shane decided to go for broke. “I heard there was a girl murdered last year—someone connected to the race.”

  Betsy’s expression did not change, but something in her eyes flickered. “That was bad, but it wasn’t a racer. The woman was supplying horses for us and someone murdered her. No connection really. Haven’t lost anyone in the race yet.”

  Kelly piped up. “I was reading through the files from last year’s medic. He noted that a girl was hospitalized. Her name was Ellen, I think.”

  Shane barely concealed his surprise. Kelly must have looked up Ellen’s name. Was she starting to believe him?

  “Ellen got sick.” Betsy closed her eyes.

  Shane tried hard for a nonchalant tone. “Do you still keep in contact with her?”

  “No. I never liked her much. She was a liar. I’m just going to take a nap now. Thanks for driving me, by the way.”

  Shane caught Kelly’s eye, but they didn’t speak. Betsy hadn’t confirmed anything new, though Shane hadn’t been aware that Ellen had been hospitalized, but that went with the territory in the risky business of racing. The hostility made sense, too, if Ellen was interested in Ackerman. In her statement to the police, Ellen claimed she was with Ackerman in his trailer the night Olivia was killed.

  His mind drifted back to the bike. He hadn’t seen Ackerman near it, but the guy had been wandering all over, taking pictures. It would only have taken a moment. Pretend to drop something. Lean over and snip. All done and no one would be the wiser. When the rider leaned his or her weight over the rear wheel, collapse was inevitable. What excited him most was that if Ackerman wanted him gone, that meant he was getting nervous and maybe, just maybe, Shane was getting closer to the truth that would set his brother free.

  The journey back seemed to take twice as long. It was nearly dark when they arrived. Ackerman materialized at the car door with Chenko and Gwen. They peppered Betsy with questions. The woman seemed to be more tired than angry now. She even managed a wan smile. “I’m fine. Doc says I’ve got a hard head. I’m cleared to race tomorrow.”

  Chenko shot a look at Kelly, who confirmed Betsy’s statement with a nod.

  “Why don’t we wait and see how you’re feeling?” Chenko said. “I don’t want any more accidents.”

  Betsy opened her mouth to retort, but Gwen put an arm around her and led her away toward their trailer. Ackerman started to follow when Shane stopped him.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  Ackerman smiled. “Gleeson figured out that Betsy took your bike by mistake. Sorry about that. We’ll fix you up with a new one.”

  “That’s not it. The crash wasn’t an accident. Someone tampered with the spokes.”

  Both Chenko and Ackerman stared at him. “Are you kidding?” Ackerman managed.

  “No, I wish I was.”

  “Look, Matthews,” Chenko said. “I figured you were overtired when you made that accusation about someone breaking into your cabin. Now you’ve got some theory that there’s a villain afoot trying to sabotage my race?”

  Shane shook his head. “Not the race. Just me—someone wants to put me out of commission.”

  Ackerman folded his arms. “Now why would anyone want to do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “This is ludicrous,” Ackerman said angrily, taking a step forward. “You’re a complete nutcase.”

  Shane straightened, his tall frame topping Ackerman’s by several inches. “I don’t think so.”

  Chenko stepped between the two men. “All right, there’s an easy way to put this to bed. We’ll take a look at the bike. If the spokes were damaged on purpose, we’ll be able to tell in a matter of minutes. Where is it?”

  Ackerman’s eyes didn’t move from Shane’s face. “In the trailer, hooked up to the back of the truck. I drove it back here myself. It’s parked over there.” He jerked a thumb toward a vehicle parked in a pool of light cast by the lodge.

  “Fine then. Let’s go,” Chenko said.

  Shane followed Chenko. Ackerman held back to walk with Kelly. Shane could hear the conversation, even though they kept it low.

  “What’s up with that guy?” Ackerman said. “He’s nuts.”

  “Let’s see what the bike looks like before we decide anything like that,” Kelly said.

  Her comment warmed him. At least she wasn’t going to trash him in front of Ackerman. Of course, he knew she probably thought he was crazy, maddened by worry for his brother. He quickened his pace. In a few more minutes they would know for sure.

  Gleeson emerged from the shadows, holding a sandwich. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to take a look at Shane’s bike. He believes it was tampered with.”

  Gleeson didn’t answer. Shane thought the reaction was strange, but he did not have time to grill his partner further. They came to the trailer, covered by a yellow tarp.

  “I can’t believe we’re entertaining this wacko’s conspiracy theories,” Ackerman said.

  “Fact finding,” Chenko snapped. “That’s how you problem-solve.”

  Shane took hold of the tarp and pulled it back. All four of them stared into the trailer.

  It was Gleeson who finally broke the silence with a low whistle. “That’s unexpected.”

  Not entirely, Shane thought, eyes roving the empty space. If I tampered with the bike, I’d get rid of it, too.

  SEVEN

  Kelly watched in dismay as Shane rounded on Devin.

  “Where’s the bike? What did you do with
it?”

  Devin fisted his hands on his hips. “I didn’t do anything. It was here. Someone must have taken it. Gleeson, do you know anything about this?”

  Gleeson shrugged. “Nah. I’m just here to race. Didn’t see anyone make off with it.”

  Chenko sighed, his face etched with fatigue. “All right. We’ll ask about it in the morning. I’m sure it just got parked somewhere, or a few helpful people are trying to repair it. For now,” he fixed eyes on Shane, “I don’t want to hear you going around accusing people of sabotage. I can’t stand that kind of bad PR, and I’d just as soon kick you out as let you do any damage. I’ve worked for years to make this race the prestigious event that it is, and I won’t have you messing that up. Do you understand me, Mr. Matthews?”

  Kelly held her breath, waiting for Shane’s response. He was livid; she could tell by the set of his broad shoulders. She moved near and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension that lay there like a coiled snake. “Shane, leave it for now. Let’s go get something to eat. I want to check in on Charlie, too. Walk me to my trailer?”

  Chenko shook his head. “Not until I get an answer from him. Right now you have exactly zero proof that anything improper has happened. Mr. Matthews, do I have your word that you won’t start spreading rumors?”

  “You have my word.”

  Shane turned and followed Kelly. She caught the smile on Devin’s face, a smile of satisfaction. And triumph.

  She saw that Chenko noticed it, too. Suddenly he looked much older than he was. Shane followed her in silence. Before they went inside the trailer, she stopped him. “I don’t want Charlie to overhear anything that might upset him.”

  Shane still did not respond. The darkness made it impossible to read his expression, but his silence made her more uncomfortable by the minute. “I’m sure the bike was just moved somewhere else. We can find it in the morning, and then we’ll know for sure.”

  He blinked. “What does your gut tell you right now?”

  She shrugged, moving to go inside.

  He took her arm and turned her to him. Her heart hammered as she drew close, and the urge to trace the contours of his face nearly overpowered her.

  “Do you think I’m telling the truth?” he whispered.

  The past came rushing back to her. The day she held Charlie and told him her decision.

  I’m going to raise him.

  The haunted look in his eyes as he’d stared at the child. I can’t, he’d said. I love you, but I can’t. I’m sorry.

  And that was that.

  Anger and hurt swirled together, as strong and bitter as the day he’d left. Did she believe him? She wanted to lash out, to hurt him just as he’d hurt her so deeply.

  “Yes,” she found herself saying, surprised by her own words. “I don’t know why, but I do believe you.”

  His smile caught a sliver of moonlight, turning his face suddenly radiant. He pulled her close, into a gentle embrace. “Thank you.”

  She relaxed into it for a moment, his warmth pressing away the coolness of the night. It was bittersweet, and she would not allow herself to be swept up into a storm of emotion that would bring nothing but pain again. She pushed away. “You’re welcome. And before you ask, there was no contact information on past racers, just a list of dates of participation. It’s all been shredded, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t give it to you.”

  Though his heart sank, he managed a smile. “I appreciate it anyway.”

  “Come in and say hello to Aunt Jean. We can make some sandwiches.”

  He followed her up. Kelly kissed her aunt on the cheek and swept Charlie into a tight embrace, blowing a raspberry onto his neck. He giggled and squirmed until she put him down. Shane greeted Aunt Jean warmly, but he was slightly guarded, no doubt feeling awkward about seeing her again after he’d broken things off with Kelly.

  “How is that poor gal who took a spill?” Aunt Jean asked, scooping Paddy Paws into her lap and stroking the bony cat.

  “She’ll be okay,” Kelly said. Shane exchanged a look with her. He didn’t want to involve her aunt in his sabotage theories, and that was just fine with Kelly. Kelly inhaled the tangy scent of onions and garlic. “What’s cooking?”

  Aunt Jean waved a hand. “Needed something to do while Charlie was napping so I made chili. Would have made pie, but your cupboards are a little lean.” She bustled into the tiny kitchen and dished them all up a bowl.

  Charlie picked at his and asked to be excused to play. He climbed onto the bed to make roads and tunnels in the sheets. Kelly watched him, delighted afresh with his ability to find joy in the simplest things. She felt her aunt’s gaze.

  “I can’t believe he’s going to be four. Rose will hardly recognize him,” Kelly said. “She tried to talk to him on the phone a few months back, but he was too shy to talk.”

  “Honey…” Aunt Jean’s words trailed off.

  Something akin to worry stirred in Kelly’s stomach. “What is it?”

  Jean darted a look at Shane and toyed with her napkin.

  He wiped his mouth. “Thank you for the chili,” he said. “I think I’d better be going.”

  Jean smiled but did not try to dissuade him from leaving. It made Kelly’s worry flare up in earnest as she walked Shane to the door.

  He touched her hand. “Everything okay?” he whispered.

  “I’m not sure.” She shot a worried glance at Aunt Jean, who was answering her satellite phone. “You’re not going to do anything rash about this bike-tampering business, are you?”

  He gave her a roguish grin. “Me? Rash? When was the last time I did anything rash?”

  “The day your car wouldn’t start, so you drove your buddy’s tractor to pick me up for a date.”

  They both laughed.

  “Well, you have to admit you’d never rode in style like that before, had you?” Shane asked.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I hadn’t.”

  They fell into an awkward silence as the reality of their relationship intruded. Those days were past. Long past. “Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Shane nodded and reached for the door when Aunt Jean came toward them. The look on her face was a ghastly mixture of fear and disbelief. She stumbled slightly and Shane reached for her arm, supporting her back to the kitchen chair.

  Kelly grabbed her hand, which was cold to the touch and shaking. “What’s going on? Please tell me.”

  Aunt Jean shot a look at Charlie to make sure he was still engrossed in his car game. “Your Uncle Bill—he’s been searching everywhere for Rose, you know.”

  “I know. Did he hear something?”

  She nodded. “He’s got contacts, and he put out the word to police departments, private investigators—” She paused. “Hospitals.”

  “He found her? Aunt Jean, please tell me. Did he find her?” Kelly’s heart thundered so loud in her ears, she wondered if they could all hear it.

  “It might not be true.”

  “What?”

  Jean looked from Shane to Kelly to Shane again.

  “Would it be easier if I left?” Shane asked.

  She shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. Both Shane and Kelly leaned close to hear. “Honey, the police found a body that matches the description of your sister. Uncle Bill is driving up tomorrow to…to make an identification.”

  Kelly blinked. Slowly her eyes traveled to Charlie, talking happily to himself about cars and vacations and inviting imaginary people to his birthday party. “So…Rose is…dead?”

  Jean pressed her lips together as her eyes filled with tears.

  Kelly felt Shane’s arm around her, leading her to a chair. “It’s not certain,” he said. “You won’t know for sure until your uncle contacts you.”

  But Kelly knew.

  From the moment her twin had left home permanently at age eighteen, fleeing the consequences of her alcoholism, Kelly had known deep down that she would not share a life with her sister again. T
here were strained phone calls, requests for money, occasional texts about a new job or boyfriend, but Rose had cut her ties to home, just as Kelly had almost done. Kelly remembered one particularly worrying call several years back about a man who was treating her badly, then Rose refused to speak about it again. After that the contact was erratic and unpredictable. Though their mother had finally gotten clean near the end of her life, Rose had learned the lesson too well by then. Anger, resentment, rejection, fear, sorrow. They were all easier to manage with a bottle of whiskey and a half-dozen beers.

  Anger bubbled inside. How come my sister couldn’t beat it, Lord?

  Kelly’s mother was dead. Now her sister. They were both gone. She’d never met her father. Even the woman sitting across from her was not her real aunt, just a dear family friend who’d taken on the role of family. She had Uncle Bill and Charlie. She looked at the child again, so fresh-faced and sweet. How could Rose have left him?

  The truth was a bitter venom flowing through her veins. Charlie’s mother was dead.

  And Kelly was all he had left.

  Shane stayed for a while, bringing them both glasses of water and helping Charlie make a gas station out of a tissue box. It was all he could think of to do. Kelly’s face was dead white, and though she did not cry, neither would she talk about the feelings reflected in her eyes.

  When he finally left, promising to come back if they needed anything at all, he found himself unable to return to his trailer. Instead, he went for a run along the moonlit trail, his feet moving faster and faster until his breath rasped out of him.

  He wanted to wrap Kelly up and take her away from this place, to run until they found a place far from their past, from the sorrow that continued to pile brick upon brick until it threatened to blot out the sunlight. He was inexplicably angry that Rose was probably dead. Shane knew that he deserved the despair that had grown to be a part of him, but Kelly did not. It was not fair.

  She’d made brave choices, overcoming her wild youth, putting herself through nursing school, taking in her sister’s child. She was innocent, and she did not deserve the sorrow raining down on her.

 

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