Shadow of Vengeance

by Kristine Mason

  “This…rape…who did my father do it to?”

  He stood in front of the boy again. “I think you know the answer.”

  Tears streaked down the pledge’s face as he nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

  Grief for what he would later do to the boy filled his heart and tightened his stomach with regret. He touched the boy’s cheek. “I’m sorry, too. Tonight will not give me pleasure.” Holding the back of the boy’s head, careful of his wounded neck, he kept the grief and regret at bay. “Joshua,” he whispered. “The savior, the deliverer…the meaning of your name is so fitting. Because I know in my heart your death will save me and at the same time, deliver your father into the bowels of hell.”

  He quickly turned away, shut off the lantern and gripped the ladder. “Because we’ve become so close, I won’t lie to you. Tonight will not be quick, nor will it be painless. But it will be necessary.”

  “Sir,” the boy called.

  He stopped on the second rung, and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Puke.”

  “Will Junior be here tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you kill her, too?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, Puke. I just haven’t decided whether to kill her before or after I kill you.” He continued up the ladder.

  “Sir,” the pledge called again.

  He stopped. “Yes, Puke?”

  “Please kill her first.”

  Chapter 20

  Rachel shrugged out of her coat, then draped it on the bed. After Owen had parked the car, she’d quickly climbed out and headed inside Joy’s. Too many times today he’d brought up this morning’s argument and had tried to apologize. The betrayal too fresh, the wounds too raw, she wasn’t ready to dissect their relationship—if there was even a chance of one—or accept his apology. She needed distance.

  A sharp rap at the door made her stomach twist. Damn it. Why couldn’t Owen give her space?

  “Shorty, you in there?” Joy called and knocked again.

  Relieved Owen wasn’t on the other side of the door, she turned the knob. “Hey, Joy. How are you?”

  “About ready to sneeze my frickin’ face off. Did you see all the flowers downstairs?”

  When Rachel had entered the house, a flowery aroma had assaulted her nose. Once in the dining room, she’d discovered the source. A dozen plus bouquets, baskets of flowers and plants littered the dining room and spilled into the great room. “Yes, they’re beautiful.”

  Joy wiped her red nose. “At a distance. My allergies are killing me. Got anything I can take? Walt’s heading into town for that frickin’ festival, but won’t be back for hours.”

  Sean also had bad allergies. Rachel had made it a habit to keep her purse stocked with allergy medicine should he need it. “You’re in luck.” She rummaged through her purse. “One of these should help.” She handed her the bottle of pills.

  “I owe you, Shorty.” She popped a pill and dry swallowed. “How’d it go today?”

  “Not well.” Defeatism wasn’t normally her nature, but with one dead end after another, and her fight with Owen, she couldn’t help allowing pessimism to creep to the surface and take hold of her. “The visiting professor route was a no go. Josh’s dad was a jerk and no help at all. The inspector from the state police hasn’t heard back from the lab yet…” She sighed and dropped onto the edge of the bed. “On the bright side, we stopped and saw Sean. He’s doing great. Dr. Gregory is releasing him tomorrow morning. Do you mind if he stays here?”

  “Of course not. We’ve got plenty of room.” Joy swiped at her watery, bloodshot eyes. “Is he going to go back to school?”

  “I’m not sure what he wants to do yet. He’s really broken up about Josh…so am I for that matter.” She crossed her legs and hugged herself. “I’m really worried, Joy. If we don’t find Josh…until him, Sean’s never had many close friends. I don’t know how he’s going to cope with this.”

  “Sometimes life’s a bitch, which is why I tend to be one.” She half-smiled. “We’ve all got a lot to cope with right now. You bring your baby brother to The House of Joy and we’ll cope together.”

  Rachel swallowed around the lump in her throat. For all her gruffness, Joy was a kind woman. “Thank you.”

  “You know how you can thank me? Help me sort through those frickin’ bouquets. I want to write down the names of everyone who sent flowers, but don’t want to get near them.”

  “Sure.” Even though she wanted to open her laptop and do more research, she could use a break. A tedious task was just what she needed to take her mind off her brother, Owen and the investigation. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Seconds after Joy left, there was another knock at the door. She looked to the bed and scooped up the pills Joy had left behind, then went to the door. “I could have brought them down,” she said as she turned the knob.

  Owen filled the doorway.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  “I saw Joy leave your room. She looked like she was crying.”

  “Allergies,” she said and held up the pills. “What’s up?”

  “I’m going to head over to the festival with Walter. Do you want to come?”

  Memories of their time there yesterday flooded her mind. Before the longing for what could have been took root, she shoved those memories aside. “No. After I help Joy with the flowers I want to recheck what we’d cross-referenced and look at what we have again. I keep feeling like we’re missing something.”

  “I can stay and help.”

  “No,” she said louder than she’d intended. “I’m…I’d rather do it alone.”

  He shoved his hands in his back pockets and looked to the floor. “Want me to bring you back anything? Yesterday, I saw you eyeing up the stand selling funnel cakes.”

  “Nope. I’m good,” she said even though she had eyed up those funnel cakes last night. But she didn’t want anything from him. Not after what he’d done to her, and potentially to her career with CORE. She also didn’t want him to be sweet or sexy, but unfortunately, he was both. While her feelings for him hadn’t changed and she still loved him, he’d not only crossed the line with his email to Ian, he’d broken the trust between them.

  Finished with their conversation and needing to distance herself from him, she started to close the door.

  He stopped her, then with lightning speed, gripped her shoulders. “I can’t apologize enough for sending Ian that email. Hell, you won’t even let me apologize.”

  “Apology accepted. You can go now.”

  Giving her a light shake, he drew her closer. “Stop. Please, just stop with the bullshit and listen to me. Let me make it right. I’ll call Ian and tell him—”

  “Don’t. I don’t need or want you calling Ian.” She fought to ignore his nearness, his familiar scent. His words and touch both distressed and calmed her. If she let him contact Ian, he could smooth things over by explaining away his original report. But even if she did let him, it didn’t change the fact he’d gone behind her back, or that he didn’t think she was cut out to work in the field. “Once we’re back in Chicago, I’m going to need time to decide what I’m going to do.”

  He tightened his grip. “You’re not leaving CORE because of me.”

  She shrugged him off her shoulders. “Get over yourself. There’s no way in hell I’m quitting my job.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What I meant is that I need to decide what’s the best direction for me and Sean. I doubt he’ll want to stay at Wexman, and if that’s his choice we’ll need to look at new schools. As for me…I need to reevaluate my career goals.”

  “And us?”

  Although hurt and angry, she couldn’t erase her feelings for him in a matter of a few hours. But she knew that with time, the love she felt for him would fade to nothing. For now, she’d have to maintain her distance and remain professional. Stay focused on the investigation and her brother’s well-being. “I told you there can’t be an us.”

  “You ready, Owen?” Walt
er called from downstairs.

  Owen looked over his shoulder toward the staircase, then back to her. The regret and anguish in his eyes made her knees weak and her stomach knot with despair. She’d wanted him to hurt as badly as she did, but because she still loved him, she hated seeing him miserable.

  “I can’t apologize enough for my actions.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and tightened his jaw. “I know what I did doesn’t show it.” He dropped his hand to his side and took a step closer. After placing a soft kiss to her cheek, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m crazy about you, Rachel,” he whispered, his voice raw, husky, then he quickly drew back and moved toward the staircase.

  As she watched him go, a part of her wanted to run after him and tell him she loved him, and that they’d work through this. But how could they?

  I’m crazy about you, Rachel.

  She went back into her room, sat on the edge of the bed and fought the urge to cry and throw herself one hell of a pity party. The man she was in love with was crazy about her, yet she could no longer trust in him.

  Rather than give in to a crying jag, she decided a distraction was definitely in order. She headed downstairs. When she reached the bottom step, she looked to her left and saw Owen at the open front door. He glanced over his shoulder and snared her gaze. The determined look in his eyes told her he wasn’t finished. But he’d have to learn to deal with his mistakes, because she was finished. There would be no more hot, love making sessions. There would be no more playful, sexy exchanges. There would only be business and professionalism.

  After he closed the door, she hugged herself.

  “Cold?” Joy asked from behind her.

  “No. I’m fine.” She nodded to the flowers in the dining room. “Ready?”

  Joy held up a pen and piece of paper. “Yep. The funeral director is sending his son by later to pick up all the bouquets. Thank God.”

  She picked up a gorgeous arrangement. “Why aren’t they being sent to Hal’s?”

  “They are. Only my brother won’t accept them and tells the delivery guy to haul ass to my house.” Joy took a seat at the dining room table. “These flowers are nothing but a terrible reminder that his son’s dead. I know it, because each time I walk past them, I think of Bill.”

  “What’s Hal going to do after the funeral?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Just a few minutes ago you brought up coping. How’s Hal going to cope with the loss of his son?”

  “He’s not going to hurt himself, if that’s what you’re asking. Hell, when he came back from Vietnam, I was worried sick. He’d changed, you know? But he told me he didn’t dodge bullets for two tours to come home and put one in his head. He’s a strong man. Like with his wife, he’ll never get over losing Bill, but he’ll cope.” Joy leaned back in the chair. “Besides, he has Bill’s dog to take care of now.”

  When she pictured the sad Golden Retriever, a lump formed in her throat. To shake the image, she dug through a bouquet and found the card. After she told Joy the name of the sender, Joy had her move the bouquet to the foyer. When the funeral director’s son arrived, Joy wanted the flowers and baskets immediately out of her house.

  They continued in silence until Joy finally said, “Walt and Hal are best friends. Bill was like a son to him. Since Bill’s…death, he’s been quiet. He’s been worried about me and my brother, but I know this is killing him just the same. He’s also back smoking like a frickin’ chimney.” Joy shook her head. “The man doesn’t think I know it. He’s always trying to cover it up with cologne, but I got a nose for things.”

  “So, it bothers you that he smokes, yet you chew tobacco.”

  “Cigarettes are disgusting.”

  “And spitting in a cup isn’t?” Rachel read off another card, then after putting the basket in the foyer, she dropped into a dining room chair. “Can I ask you something…personal?”

  Joy lifted a shoulder. “Only if I’m allowed to do the same.”

  “Fair enough. Does everyone know you and Walter are a couple?”

  “We’re married, so yeah.”

  Rachel looked to Joy’s hand where a ring should have been, and half-laughed. She hadn’t seen that one coming. “How long have you been together?”

  Joy folded her hands together and rested them on the piece of paper. “Walt moved to Bola about sixteen years ago. At the time, I’d been widowed for eight years. My last husband…he wasn’t a good man. He liked to beat the shit out of me.” She narrowed her eyes and set her mouth in a grim line. “The only good he ever did me was dying and leaving me financially secure. Anyway, back when Walter came to Bola, I was accepting boarders, and had one room available. When he moved in, it was supposed to be temporary.”

  “Was he here for work?”

  She nodded. “He had a nice accounting job at the mill…just retired last year. But that’s not the only reason he moved to Bola. See, Walter always had a thing for Bigfoot, and this area is known for sightings. When he was a kid, he and his dad went camping for the weekend in the woods outside of Munising, that’s in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Anyway, he claims that late one night they heard what sounded like a bear lumbering through the woods. His dad told him they needed to abandon the tent. When they got inside the truck and his dad flipped on the headlights…there was Bigfoot staring right back at them.” She grinned. “When I first met him, I was convinced he was nothing but a crazy son of a bitch.”

  “But?”

  “Half of Bola claims they’ve seen Bigfoot. Hell, even my daddy said he did. Same with Hal. So I was used to crazy.” She released a wistful sigh. “Walter…he’s a good man, Shorty. When people meet me, most times they don’t know what to do with me. Not him. He gets me. Gets that I’m not good with all that expressing myself bullshit. You know what I’m saying?”

  She glanced at the cork and dry erase boards hanging on the dining room wall. Owen had bought those items for her because he’d understood that she’d been missing her evidence and evaluation room and knew she’d had a hard time transitioning from the desk to the field. She thought about how he’d held her the night she’d broken down over Bill’s murder, about how she’d told him her career concerns and how his words of assurance had bolstered her confidence. Owen might get her, but she didn’t get why he’d betrayed her with the ugly email he’d sent to Ian.

  “A few months after Walt moved in here and got to know the area, he found a beautiful place along the river and thought about buying it. I was so pissed off about him leaving.” She rested her chin in her hand. “I was a bitch to him for days. So he finally says to me, ‘Joy, does treating me like shit mean you love me?’” She chuckled. “The man threw me for a loop. And I said, ‘Yeah, you damn fool. What are you going to do about it?’ Well, he said he loved me too, but didn’t want to live with a bunch of boarders. I was sick of having a houseful anyway, the house was paid for and I didn’t need the money. Plus Walter had a good income. So after the last tenant moved out, we got married. Our fourteenth anniversary is next month. Valentine’s day.”

  Holy cow, Joy was a romantic. Who knew?

  “My turn,” Joy said. “What’s going on with you and Owen?”

  Her face heated. Had they been obvious? “Nothing.”

  Joy laughed. “That’s not what it sounded like the night before…or the night before that. Sorry, Shorty, I couldn’t resist.” Her smile waned as she picked up the pen. “You’re being as bitchy to him as I was to Walt when I thought he was moving out. So again, what’s going on?”

  “I…it’s complicated.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Yes. She stood and retrieved another bouquet. “I told you, it’s complicated.”

  “Nothing complicated about being in love. You either are or you aren’t. Appears to me and Walt that you both are.”

  Rachel read the name off the card. After leaving the flowers in the foyer, she picked up a vase filled with blood red roses and angel’s breath. “Aren’t these roses b
eautiful?”

  “Don’t change the subject. Now talk.”

  She released a sigh, then set the flowers aside. “It’s one sided.”

  “With the way that man looks at you, I don’t get that impression at all.”

  “I…it can’t work between us.”

  “Because?”

  “Owen and I work together, so that’s a problem.”

  “So.”

  “So, it’s an issue. How can I face him day after day when he…” She grabbed the vase and took it to the foyer. When she returned to the dining room, Joy was leaning back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest.

  “What’d he do to you?” she asked, her tone quiet, yet indignant. “If he hurt you, I’ll string him up by his—”

  Rachel held up a hand. “No need to go there.” She sat again. “This is my first assignment in the field. Normally I work in the office.”

  “Right. You like your evidence and evaluation room so much Owen turned my dining room into one for you.”

  “True. I do love my place at CORE, but for the past couple of years I’ve been begging my boss to give me a chance to work in the field. After hearing stories from the other agents, I felt like I was missing out on something. I wanted some action and adventure, you know what I mean?”

  Joy lifted a shoulder. “I’m a homebody. But I understand what you’re saying. So what’s the problem? From where I’m sitting, you haven’t caught a killer or found that boy, but you’ve been working your ass off trying.”

  Rachel stared at Joy, wishing she could blurt out everything. She’d never had a close friend she could confide in, and while she could use a sounding board and Joy’s advice, she also didn’t want to look like a fool. She’d had sex with Owen knowing it could affect their work relationship, and done it anyway. She’d thought with her body and heart, rather than her brain.

  “Come on, Shorty. Spit it out. Unless you’re too chicken.”

  “Fine.” She gave into Joy’s taunt. “Owen went behind my back and told our boss I wasn’t emotionally cut out to work in the field. Happy?”