No Turning Back

by Nancy Bush

  She waved her off, too many emotions weighing them all down. “He doesn’t have to know until he phones, and maybe I can put him off a while longer.”

  Hawk, who’d been fidgeting and looking itchy, nodded and said, “Your daughter’s never done this before. It’s likely she’ll be back before you know it. This is really Jesse’s problem, and she won’t want to deal with it.”

  “Do you think he told her?” Liz asked, swallowing against a dry throat.

  Kristy glanced at her sympathetically. “They seem pretty tight.”

  “I know, I just . . .” Liz could well imagine that scene. Betrayal. They would both feel it, and the thought made her feel small and cheap.

  Hawk clambered to his feet and leaned on his crutches. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “What?” Liz demanded, her head snapping up. “Where?”

  “To work.”

  “This is work,” she reminded him.

  “Sitting around fretting isn’t work.” He headed for his Jeep. Now she knew why he hadn’t offered to drive her; he’d wanted her to have her own car.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, following him outside.

  “I’ve got some other cases to get back to.”

  Liz stared at him in amazement. “There’s still a lot to talk about, you know. It’s not just Jesse and Tawny.”

  Visions of the night before invaded her thoughts, and she could tell he was reliving a few moments himself; his lashes swept downward, concealing his expressive eyes and Liz recognized the evasion.

  “Yeah, well . . .”

  “Hawk,” she warned softly, sensing he was escaping.

  “Damn it, Liz. Not now.”

  She was offended that it was suddenly her problem. That she was keeping him from his work. “That’s so like you,” she whispered angrily. “Take what you want and never give anything back.”

  “Well, what do you want me to say?” he asked through his teeth.

  “I want you to say last night was wonderful. I want you to say you’re glad Jesse knows the truth now. I want you to say that it’s all great because we can start anew.”

  “That’s what you want?”

  “Yes.” But her voice reflected her own doubts, ones she hadn’t even known were there.

  “I’ve got an appointment,” he said after a tense moment.

  If ever Liz wanted to kick his crutches out from underneath him, it was that moment. Choosing a more adult approach, she turned on her heel, marched inside the house, and slammed the door behind her until the crystal in Kristy’s dining room hutch clattered furiously.

  * * *

  The Forest Service office was a small one-story building with shake siding painted forest green—appropriate, Hawk thought as he struggled out of the Jeep, cursing invectives to an empty afternoon where shadows crawled over the other two cars in the gravel lot.

  But it was a walking cast on his leg now. He hadn’t forgotten this morning’s doctor’s appointment during all this nonsense. Amid growling by the doc that he wasn’t quite ready, Hawk had patiently waited while he’d been switched to a cast that ended at his knee.

  Now he hobbled through the front door, glad for the improvement, chafing that it was still going to take weeks before he could move the way he wanted to. Inside was a long, narrow room that sported one desk and a lot of wood samples in a case. Behind the desk sat a hard-eyed brunette with permed hair. No niceties needed here, he decided. She looked tough enough to chew nails.

  When she glanced up he swept in a startled breath: Sarah Lister.

  Messages sizzled inside his skull. Conclusions. Don Vandeway’s voice. “. . . then he befriended a secretary at the Forest Service who helped keep the arrangement trouble-free . . .”

  “So you were Manny and Barney’s connection,” Hawk said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was smart, but her eyes dilated despite herself.

  “Your boyfriend’s a poacher who used Manny and Barney’s permits. Who is he?”

  “You don’t have any right!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Flipping out his ID, Hawk drilled out, “I’m interested in the list of yew bark harvesting permits.”

  “I can’t give out that information without authorization.”

  “This is your authorization,” he pointed out, tapping his identification. It had been a long night and was turning into a long day, and he didn’t have a lot of interest in waiting.

  “You’ll have to wait.”

  “Then I’ll wait.” Letting her see how much of a struggle it was for him, Hawk settled himself into one of the green Naugahyde chairs, stretching his casted leg and crutches toward the woman at the desk. She glared at him and he held her gaze.

  Placing a call on his phone, he waited for someone at the station to pick up and give him an update on his misplaced son.

  * * *

  Liz hung up Kristy’s phone, fighting to keep her expression neutral.

  “Well?” Kristy asked, nervously clutching a throw pillow to her chest.

  “Guy’s coming tonight.”

  She sank onto the couch, forlorn and lost. “Oh, God, I knew it. I don’t want him here.”

  Liz sat down beside her and clasped one hand. Kristy had handed her the phone as soon as she’d heard Guy Fielding’s voice on the other end. By unspoken understanding, it was decided that Liz was Kristy’s advocate as well as Tawny’s. The only time Liz spoke to Kristy’s ex-husband was on Tawny or Kristy’s behalf, so as soon as Guy heard her voice he bristled and grew prickly and difficult.

  “Where is she?” he demanded when Liz explained that Tawny was unavailable.

  No amount of pussyfooting around was going to help. “We’re not sure. She’s taken off with a friend of hers.”

  That brought on an explosion to rival TNT. Liz actually held the phone away from her ear. Twice she attempted to soothe and placate, but Guy had simply bellowed that he was driving to Woodside that instant and Tawny damn well better be back by the time he arrived.

  “You know, I really feel like a loser when I realize I loved him once,” Kristy declared. “How could anyone love such a pompous ass?”

  “He gave you Tawny,” Liz reminded her, calling on the rationale she’d fallen back on for years.

  “And now he’s trying to take her away.”

  Liz half-laughed. “Jesse took care of that first.”

  “I’m not really worried about her with him. Are you?”

  Kristy never ceased to amaze Liz, who shook her head in agreement. “That’s not what’s got me worried either.”

  “It’s that Jesse knows.”

  Liz nodded.

  “I don’t think his father’s such a bastard.” Kristy managed a wan smile. “He was good to me.”

  “Hawk’s . . . got his good points,” Liz admitted, though it was likely to kill her to admit it.

  “You still love him, and I understand why.”

  “No, I dislike him intensely.”

  Kristy actually laughed. “Will you be here when Guy gets here?”

  “You know I will.”

  * * *

  “It’s for you,” Sarah Lister announced coldly, holding up the receiver to her landline.

  Hawthorne, who’d been in a state of semi-sleep, roused himself and frowned. He hadn’t told the station where he was, so no one knew he was here. The taciturn Ms. Lister must have spilled the information to whoever was so desperate to talk to him.

  “Hello?”

  “Damn, you’re a fucking nuisance,” Don Vandeway’s voice spit out. It was almost humorous, the way he swore with that perfect, snotty intonation. “You could kill someone through your negligence. Didn’t I tell you you’re screwing up this investigation?”

  “Yeah, I think you did.”

  “You’re not good at listening, are you?”

  “I don’t feel reasonable when someone’s been shooting at me.”

  Silence. A moment of serious thought from his bu
ddy, Don Vandeway.

  “Okay, listen,” he confided. “You’ve already met one of the agents I told you about.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ll give this information, but then I want you to butt out.”

  Hawk wasn’t promising anything, but if Vandeway wanted to name one of his so-called undercover agents, Hawk was willing to listen. “Shoot,” he said with a certain amount of humor.

  “He’s a legitimate Pacific yew farmer.”

  Hawk’s brows lifted. Avery Francis? “I see.”

  “Belding and Turgate were accepting stolen yew bark from poachers and claiming it came legally from federal land,” Vandeway explained quickly. “After all, they had the proof of their permits. Our agent has been slowly collecting names of poachers. Your interference could jeopardize his efforts and his health.”

  “You believe that’s why Belding and Turgate were murdered, then?”

  “Belding’s death was an accident,” he stated firmly once again.

  “Bullshit,” Hawk said softly.

  “Just stay out of the investigation,” Vandeway warned before he hung up.

  Feeling Sarah’s avid gaze on him, Hawk said to her, “Don Vandeway’s a friend of yours?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You called him and told him I was here. Thanks for the help. I think I got what I needed.”

  Her perplexity turned down the corners of her mouth and she swore rather crudely under her breath as Hawk thunked his way out of the office. His buddy, Ed McEwan, had told him first that Belding and Turgate were being helped out by an employee of the Forest Service. A secretary. He was going to have to check in with Ed again.

  * * *

  By the time Guy Fielding finished his ranting and raving, Liz was suffering from a pounding headache and Kristy looked done in. Stiff and unrelenting, he’d made certain they knew what foolish women they were and that he’d come to straighten them out.

  And he didn’t even know Jesse was Liz’s son.

  She debated telling him. The pure moment of pleasure it would bring to see his judgmental face burn purple with apoplexy would be worth a lot. But Kristy didn’t need any further drama in her life right now.

  “Tawny would never miss her dance recital,” she said for about the third time. “She’ll be back soon.”

  “She’s run away,” Guy bit out, looking down his nose. “She won’t be back for some pointless dance.”

  “It’s far from pointless,” Liz answered, nettled.

  “Who is this boy who took her?” he demanded. “Does he do drugs?”

  Liz glared through narrowed lashes. Kristy shot her a look of apology that Guy missed completely.

  “He’s probably a user,” Guy went on in disgust. “I’ll string him up by the balls, the little asshole.”

  “He’s not so little,” Liz said coldly.

  “And for all we know, Tawny asked him to leave with her,” Kristy put in for Liz’s benefit. Liz moved to the couch and sat beside her friend, holding her hand.

  Guy pulled at his collar, which was way too tight for the circumference of his neck. Affluence and power seemed to have turned him from a reasonably good-looking man into an overblown boor. Of course, in Liz’s opinion, he’d always been a boor, but at least he’d been marginally attractive. Now she found him damn near repulsive.

  A knock on the door brought Liz to her feet.

  “Tawny!” Kristy expelled happily.

  Guy threw open the door, but it was Hawk on the front steps, balanced on a new, shin-length walking cast. The sweep of pleasure that flooded through Liz was totally out of proportion to the circumstances. You don’t like him all that much, she reminded herself even as she crossed the room to help him inside.

  “I haven’t been introduced,” Guy declared coldly, a bit of jealousy surfacing despite himself.

  “Detective Hawthorne Hart,” Liz responded. “Have you heard anything?” she asked Hawk anxiously.

  “They found the stolen car in Aberdeen. Abandoned. We don’t know if they took it, but—”

  “Aberdeen! Yes, they took it!” she cried. “Aberdeen’s Kurt Cobain’s hometown. Jesse would head there in a heartbeat.”

  “Who is this Jesse?” Guy demanded, scrambling for control of the conversation.

  Hawk said to Liz, “Cobain’s that dead rock star?”

  “Jesse’s idol. He talked all about him and told me several times about Aberdeen. Of course he’d head there. No question.”

  Hawk absorbed the fact that Liz knew more about their son than he did with good grace. Too much was at stake to worry unduly about small issues now.

  Guy, however, didn’t like it one bit. “How do you know Jesse?” he demanded of Liz.

  “He’s my son,” Hawk answered.

  “Your son!”

  Liz got her chance to see purple apoplexy as Guy came unglued and started sputtering unintelligible words. Hawk watched blandly, then asked him, “And you are . . . ?” although Liz was pretty sure he’d figured out where Guy fit in already.

  “I’m Guy Fielding. Tawny’s father!”

  “Who hasn’t been interested in his daughter until just recently,” Kristy put in with a small shrug that pissed Guy to no end.

  “What kind of police detective would have a delinquent son who steals cars and kidnaps young women? I demand to see someone else.” With that, he headed to the phone. “I have a friend who works for the Seattle Police Department,” he bit out importantly. “We’ll see what must be done.”

  “Want to go to Aberdeen?” Hawk asked Liz and Kristy.

  “Yes!” they answered in unison.

  Guy slammed down the receiver in the middle of placing the call. “You’re not taking over! I’ll drive to Aberdeen and find them myself.”

  “You hardly know what Tawny looks like,” Kristy pointed out sadly.

  “We’ll take my Jeep” was Hawk’s answer. He glanced at Kristy and added gently, “It might be better if someone stays here in case she shows up.”

  “You’re right,” Kristy agreed. “Guy and I will stay.”

  “What the hell? You can’t speak for me! I demand to find my daughter.”

  “Come on,” Hawk said to Liz, and they headed to his Jeep with Guy on their heels, sputtering more demands as he decided whether to follow in his own car. Hawk backed out and Guy stood on the sidewalk, hands on hips, jaw locked in anger.

  “I’m glad we’re alone,” Liz whispered, as if he might hear though they were yards away.

  Hawk sent her a glance that melted something inside her. “Me too” was all he said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Trouble,” Jesse muttered, standing beneath the streetlight and watching the approaching black Jeep.

  Tawny lifted her head. She was seated on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees, her cheek resting on her bent knees until Jesse spoke. Glancing around, she asked, “Where?”

  “It’s them!” he spat out.

  “Who?”

  “Dad and Mom.”

  Tawny jumped to her feet, dusting off the seat of her pants and gazing eagerly in the direction Jesse was looking. But he grabbed her arm and pulled her backward, into the shadows of a dour-looking brick building. She let him guide her, but as the Jeep whizzed by she leaped into the lamplight.

  “Hey!” Jesse cried.

  Tawny waved frantically, but when the Jeep was out of sight her shoulders slumped. Jesse glared at her. “What was that all about?”

  “I want to go home,” she told him, sounding suspiciously like she was about to cry. “I’m tired.”

  Jesse raked back his flopping hair and turned his face to the night sky. A cold moon looked back at him. He was tired, too. Tired of all the bullshit and lies.

  “This is going to sound dumb, but I’ve got a dance recital that really matters to me,” Tawny whispered. “It’s coming right up.”

  Headlights arced at the end of the street. The Jeep was turning around. They’d been seen.

&
nbsp; Like a prisoner in front of a firing squad, Jesse stoically waited for the end of his life. He didn’t care. He didn’t owe his parents anything.

  Still, when the black Jeep cruised to an idling stop directly in front of them and Liz Havers, shrink extraordinaire, stepped onto the sidewalk, Jesse couldn’t help the frisson of emotion that slid down his spine and invaded his gut.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said in a voice devoid of feeling.

  * * *

  The interior of Hawk’s car was close and hot and Liz couldn’t help counting Jesse’s breaths as he sat directly behind her, so controlled and careful that it seemed as if he were regulating the inflation and deflation of his lungs. He probably was. She didn’t trust her own involuntary reflexes to work.

  Hi, Mom . . .

  Shivering even as she sweated, Liz slid a surreptitious glance Hawk’s way. He was bent over the steering wheel, his mouth a thin knife blade of tension.

  Jesse had refused to get in. Even Tawny had been reticent, a clear sign that Jesse had told her his feelings about finding out his mother was alive and well and practicing psychology in Woodside. It had only been Tawny’s pleading that had gotten to him. Now, as they neared the edge of town, where Hummingbird River wound its way near Tawny’s house and then much farther down, past Hawthorne and Jesse’s, Liz decided to speak the first word for thirty miles.

  “I guess you were eavesdropping,” she said into the silence.

  No answer.

  “You obviously learned the truth.”

  Still no answer.

  Hawk glanced in the rearview mirror at his son. “Do you have anything you want to say?”

  “Do you know who killed that dead guy yet?” Jesse asked with a trace of belligerence.

  Liz bit her lip and forced herself not to mind too much.

  “No.” Hawk’s terse reply sent the car into another round of deafening silence. Struggling to keep the conversation alive, Hawk elaborated, “I have a few leads, though.”

  “Like what?”

  Liz was about to tell Jesse that his father probably wasn’t at liberty to say when Hawk surprised her with some information.

  “I think it all has to do with that yew tree theft. I think Barney Turgate and Manny Belding were paying off poachers and then using their legitimate federal permits to claim they’d harvested the bark from Forest Service land. From there, they’d sell the bark to a business, in this case ChemTek, at a much higher profit, and ChemTek would strip the bark of Taxol, a chemical substance in the bark proven to fight cancer.”