Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  Andra didn’t like the silence, not with Nadia. She looked at her friend but Nadia said, “You know, you give off this air of being all tough. But you’re like an egg. Crack the shell and the middle is all goo.” She smiled, like she’d had a happy epiphany.

  Andra didn’t move or react in any other way.

  Nadia laughed. “Fine. Ignore me, what do I know? I only cut people’s hair.”

  She waited but Andra wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being right.

  “Don’t you have to change a tape?”

  Dead air. “Crap.” Andra loaded up the next song and got it playing. “Quit distracting me.”

  “Are you sure it’s not Sheriff John Mason doing that?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Nadia was quiet for a second and then she said, “What if you could have a relationship?”

  “I can’t.”

  “But—”

  Andra shifted to face Nadia. “What do you think is going to happen when he reads my file? Nothing is going to be fine. And definitely not fine enough for a relationship. He’s going to arrest me for Betty Collins’ murder.”

  “But you didn’t do it. You were coming to meet me with the flag.”

  “No one else believes that.”

  “I’ll vouch for you.”

  Andra took a breath. “Do you really think when he figures out what I used to do for a living, he’s even going to care about that? All he’ll be concerned with is keeping the town safe and keeping me away from his son.”

  Nadia pressed her lips together, conceding the point. Which was good, because Andra didn’t want to argue about what couldn’t be.

  “It’s going to happen. He’s going to arrest me.” Andra sighed. “Can we just talk about something else while I have a night to breathe free before the inevitable happens and my whole world is gone again?”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m not naïve, Nadia.” Andra sighed. “I just want to enjoy what I have while it lasts. I’ll deal with whatever comes later, when it happens. I’m just not looking forward to the look on his face. That’s always the worst part.”

  Nadia Marie’s voice was quiet. “Did I do that…look at you like that?”

  “You were fine. That’s why I told you at the diner because if I’d told you half a mile out of town on the ridge you’d have thought I brought you out there to kill you and hide the body.”

  Nadia’s lips flickered in a smile. “I’m glad you told me.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m sorry about everything that happened to you.”

  “It was a choice. A lot of it was just choices that I made. Good or bad, they’re done and I can’t erase any of it. But the fact you’re sorry is exactly why I told you.” Andra smiled. “And why I don’t mind you showing up all the time and talking my ear off.”

  “Ha.” Nadia laughed. “You’re the chatty one. Can’t get you to shut up half the time. Yeesh.”

  **

  Pat sat on the steps of the school with his backpack on his feet. He should just get back on his bike and ride…somewhere. His dad had been tired and grumpy at breakfast, yelling about wearing a coat even though it wasn’t cold. And telling him being on time for school meant you were late. Whatever that meant. On time was on time, right? Tardy was tardy.

  He sighed. His mom had dropped him at school every morning. It was a long drive, not a walk. But still, she made sure he got there. Just not that he got to Sanctuary. Apparently she didn’t care anymore. Who did that? Who just stopped loving someone all of a sudden?

  What if she never loved him in the first place?

  Pat didn’t want to think about his mom, but not trying to think about her meant he didn’t see the girl until she was blocking out the sun peaking over the mountains. She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him with her beady eyes and her mean-looking mouth.

  Was he supposed to talk first? “Hi, I’m Pat.”

  “I know who you are.” She dumped her backpack at the bottom of the stairs and folded the arms of her sweater. Apparently she didn’t have to wear a coat.

  “Well, who are you?”

  She shrugged.

  She wasn’t going to tell him what her name was?

  “I heard your dad’s protecting a killer. He won’t arrest Andra because he’s full-on hot for her.”

  Pat didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. “Andra didn’t kill that lady. She’s nice.”

  “Nice? She’s a weirdo. I heard she lures people up to her cabin, and murders them and buries the bodies in the woods where no one will ever find them.”

  Pat’s cereal did a twist and swoop in his stomach like the diving guy on the Olympics. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Yeah?” She shoved his shoulder. “Wadda you know? You only just got here. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  Three of the teenagers walked up, two girls and a boy. “Leave him alone, Clara.”

  That was her name? Pat looked at her. If that was his name, he’d probably be mad at everyone too.

  “His dad is protectin’ a murderer.”

  “I heard about that,” one of the girls said. “Andra Caleri killed Betty Collins.”

  The other girl turned to her. “So? We didn’t like Betty Collins, remember?”

  “Yeah but we didn’t not like her enough we don’t care she got stabbed. What if one of us is next?”

  The boy ignored them, looking at Pat instead. “What’s your dad waiting for? Why hasn’t he arrested her already?”

  Pat looked at each of them, standing over him. He swallowed. “Andra didn’t do it.”

  “Yeah? How do you know?”

  Clara stuck her hands on her hips. “That’s what I said!”

  “Yeah,” the first teen girl said. “Well, no one is asking you.” She zeroed in on Pat. “Are the sheriff and Andra…you know…?”

  Pat swallowed. “No, I don’t know.”

  Clara snorted. “He doesn’t even know what you mean.” She laughed but it wasn’t nice.

  “Quit being a turd, Clara.” The boy shoved her aside and then looked at Pat. “Your dad’s protecting her. Everyone knows she killed Betty.”

  “She didn’t.”

  “She’s done it before. Up at her house.”

  Clara shoved her way back in. “She buries the bodies in the woods!”

  Pat stood up on the step so he was same height as the teenagers. “I’ve been to Andra’s house. There aren’t any bodies in the woods.” At least, he didn’t think so. She was a nice lady, friendly to Aaron when she didn’t have to be. And she made nice lemonade.

  “What’s going on?”

  They all froze. The teens turned and moved aside so Pat could see Mrs. Pepper. She was dressed in gray, like she was trying to be depressing on purpose. She should get her hair cut like his mom did, where they put streaks in it and made you look sunny even when it was cold outside.

  “Does anyone want to tell me what this is?” She looked at the three teens and then Clara, but none of them said anything. “Pat?”

  “Nothing, Mrs. Pepper.”

  She sighed. “All of you inside.” When Pat got up to follow the other kids in Mrs. Pepper put her hand on his arm and said, “One minute, Pat.”

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  She smiled. “I heard you say you’ve been up to Ms. Andra’s house, was that right?”

  He nodded. “With Aaron. To deliver her mail.”

  “Must’ve been quite a walk.”

  “It wasn’t too far. Just up the trail. Aaron said it was a mile.” He smiled. “She gave us lemonade.”

  “That’s nice. But, you know, some people want you to think they’re nice even when they’re trying to hide something. So you should be careful. Maybe go with your dad if you need to go up there again. Or better yet, stay clear of Ms. Andra. I don’t believe what everyone’s saying about her…”

  “Neither do I.”

  “It’s nice to believe the best
of people. But sometimes being careful has to be more important than being nice.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t really get that. But she wasn’t saying bad things about Andra so it wasn’t hard to just agree. “Can I go inside now?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Pat worked some on his art project, making a dodecahedron out of cardboard and paper maché he was going to paint with the Dolphins colors.

  After that they went to the library. Pat’s computer was pointed at the front door and Mrs. Pepper was in the middle. He logged on with his ID and then onto the school website, but didn’t click on his assignment. No one was looking, so he went online and logged onto his email instead.

  There was nothing from his mom.

  He checked the sent folder. The three messages were in there, so she must have gotten them. Why didn’t she email him back?

  He slumped lower in the seat. The only good part of being here was getting to spend time with his dad. And he couldn’t even do that right now because his dad was busy catching who killed that lady. Even in summer, when he wouldn’t have to go to school, his dad would be working all the time. Just like always.

  Pat’s eyes burned. It didn’t feel like he’d gotten his dad back and now he’d lost his mom too.

  A window popped up at the bottom corner of his email.

  Pat?

  He sat up and typed back. Hi Grandma.

  How are you, pumpkin?

  Okay. I guess.

  That doesn’t sound good. Did you get my cookies?

  Cookies?

  Maybe they’ll be there next week. They’ll still be good, I’m sure.

  Grandma’s cookies were the best. But that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. Have you heard from my mom?

  Oh, honey. No. I’m sorry. She hasn’t emailed you?

  Pat didn’t type anything. His eyes were burning again. His cheek tickled and he swiped his face. He was crying. Great. Now everyone was going to think he was a total baby. He sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face.

  I’m sure she means to. You want me to call her and tell her to email or call you?

  Not if she didn’t even love him anymore.

  Pat typed, It’s fine. Even though it wasn’t.

  His dad didn’t get it and neither did his grandma. They didn’t even like his mom, so what did they care she didn’t love them anymore? Pat was the one she left. She’d made a show of being all sad she was going, but she just said that stuff to make herself not feel so bad.

  I love you, Pat. Don’t be sad, baby. I know you miss your mom but your dad loves you and he’s there.

  Pat typed, K.

  He won’t know you feel bad unless you tell him. So you need to tell your dad how you feel, okay?

  Okay.

  But he wasn’t going to. Pat typed bye because he didn’t want her to tell him any more stuff to do. His dad was busy working and it was important. He didn’t need to know Pat was sad or he’d think Pat didn’t like it here.

  Chapter 14

  John scanned the headlines on the three day old newspaper. Being out of touch with what was happening in the outside world didn’t sit well with him. It was like being on vacation with no news show to watch, picking up a newspaper just for the sake of something to read and playing catch-up. Not a sustainable long-term plan.

  Sources at the White House will neither confirm nor deny last night’s events were, in fact, an assassination attempt on the President.

  What?

  The door swung open and Pat walked into the sheriff’s office. John took one look at his face, set the newspaper down and crooked his finger. Pat ambled over, his shoulders low. He dropped his backpack on the floor and John pulled him onto his lap. “What’s up, chuck?”

  Pat’s lips twitched but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you just call me up-chuck?”

  “How are you doing? How was school?”

  “School was fine.”

  Dotty was typing, headphones on. There hadn’t been any callins yet, even with his late night radio announcement. Apparently no one was coming forward. Palmer was at his desk, looking like he was working.

  John looked at his son. It didn’t look like things were fine. But sometimes a man didn’t need his father to make a big deal about his feelings. At least, that was the way John’s dad had raised him. They just went out back and threw a ball until whatever was churning in John had worked itself out.

  “Feel like going for a drive?”

  Pat looked up, cautious. “Where to?”

  “Well, Matthias did say you could come out to the ranch and see him. I need to go over there. So…you wanna come?”

  “Awesome.” Pat grabbed his backpack and ran for the apartment stairs. “I’m gonna take a whiz before we go.”

  Palmer chuckled.

  “Hold down the fort, yeah?”

  The deputy smiled but it wasn’t happiness there, it was something else.

  “Dotty?”

  The receptionist paused what she was doing and looked over. “Sheriff?”

  “I’m headed out. Radio me if you need anything.”

  “Sure thing.”

  John stood and grabbed his jacket. It was probably just being somewhere new. He was going to have to get used to the people and the atmosphere and eventually it wouldn’t feel weird.

  Pat ran back down in shorts and a t-shirt.

  “You need a coat, don’t you?”

  He looked at John like he doubted his sanity. “It’s warm out.”

  John motioned to his computer. “Not according to the weather report.”

  Dotty piped up. “The valley Sanctuary sits in actually won’t be on the weather. It’s below the elevation of the surrounding area so they don’t report it because no one lives here anyway. If you want accurate temperatures, listen to Hal. The mountains are almost at freezing, the snow on the tops is early. This morning Hal said fifty-eight and sunny.”

  “Well I’ll be.” John hung his jacket on the back of his chair. “Maybe I should get me a thermometer.”

  Dotty hissed. “Can’t. That would be transporting chemicals.”

  “How does Hal do it?”

  She grinned. “Claims he can smell the temperature.”

  John chuckled. “Of course he can.”

  Pat looked back and forth between him and Dotty, so John shook his head at his son. “Ready?”

  **

  The ranch consisted of a two-story house, a barn—which for some reason wasn’t red—and a big cabin all across the field from the landing pad. Without helicopter rotors to blow away the odor, the whole place smelled like cows. Bolton’s bright red diesel truck sat under an awning growing like an eyesore out of the side of the house.

  Matthias emerged from the barn and strode to the Jeep with a coil of rope over his shoulder. He was smiling wide. John hesitated for a second. Why was everyone in this town so friendly? It wasn’t natural.

  “What’s up, little dude?” Matthias bent to high-five Pat. “Wanna come see the horses?”

  “Yeah!”

  John put a hand on Pat’s arm. “Uh…” The horse at Dan’s farm had been taller than him. To Pat they’d be huge. Fully able to crush him.

  Matthias had a knowing smile on his face. “I’ll be with him at all times. Pat will be fine with the horses. I’ll teach him how to be around them and be safe.”

  Guess the secret was out. Apparently it was too much to ask Dan not to notice John’s reaction to the huge beast on Battle Night, or that Dan would keep the information to himself.

  Pat did look really excited. “I guess it’s okay.” John glanced at Matthias. “Before you guys go, can I ask you something personal?” When Matthias shrugged, John said, “Is everything okay with Maria?”

  A shadow crossed Matthias’s face, darkening his eyes. “What’s your concern?”

  So the guy wasn’t going to give anything up. He was going to get John to spill what he knew first—which in itself spoke of having to be careful when talking about the sub
ject of Maria. Maybe for years.

  “I was just wondering if there’s anything about her situation I should know. She seems like she might be having a hard time.”

  Pat had wandered off a few feet to pick rocks from the dirt. Matthias frowned. “She had post-partum depression pretty bad after the twins were born. I thought we were past that.”

  “And Tom?”

  “Tom is…” Matthias shrugged. “He’s just Tom. He does his job at the nursery, but he lives for Maria.”

  “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell Mama. She’ll probably call a family meeting, which means you can expect to get an invite to dinner pretty soon. And she won’t take no for an answer.” Matthias grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  John glanced at Pat, who looked to be getting bored of finding rocks. “One more thing.” He trotted to his Jeep, got the file from the dash and pulled out the picture of the knife. “Do you recognize this?”

  Matthias studied it like it was one of those magic-eye pictures. Put your nose to the picture and draw back slowly to see the dinosaur. “Hunting knife.”

  “You guys do that here?”

  “It’s mostly taking a few older guys out over the land, sometimes we set up targets and they’ll wager on accuracy.”

  “But it’s illegal to transport weapons into town.”

  Matthias shrugged. “Talk to Bolton about that.”

  “Any idea who this knife belongs to?”

  “Can I help you?” Bolton marched across the grassy dirt straight toward them. “Sheriff.” The way he said it, the position wasn’t a good thing.

  Bolton’s clothes weren’t cheap. But they were clearly working attire, and not just what he wore to look like a rancher. The guy was western through and through. John figured in another life he’d have been just as comfortable wearing an expensive suit sitting in an office—or wearing a bullet proof vest and carrying a shotgun, kicking in the target’s front door.

  “Farrera.” John flashed the picture. Pat had perked up, looking a little awestruck at the sight of the big man. It wasn’t like he was that much bigger than John.

  “Recognize this knife?”