Lost Down Deep

by Sara Davison

  “Me too. Although I have been on guard for anyone I know. I’ve seen a couple of people from a distance but managed to avoid them.”

  “How long do you think you can keep that up?”

  Jude slumped against the brick wall of the gym. “Not much longer, I’m sure.”

  “Well, on the bright side, if Summer does find out you’ve been lying to her and dumps you, there’s always Justine.”

  Jude pushed away from the wall. “That’s very cute.” He slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders as they started for Cash’s truck, trying to hide a wince at the pain that shot through his arm at the movement. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “Us. Your long-time girlfriend isn’t talking to you and mine doesn’t know who I am. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  Cash snorted a laugh as they reached the truck. “We definitely are. A pair of losers, at the moment.” He nodded at Jude’s arm. “Take a bath in Epsom salts tonight. That’ll help with the pain in all those muscles you’d forgotten you had.”

  He never had been able to keep anything from his older brother. Clearly that hadn’t changed. “Thanks for the advice.”

  “Anytime. See you tomorrow?” His brother rounded the front of the vehicle.

  “Sure. And Cash?”

  He stopped on the other side of the truck. “Yeah?”

  “It’s going to work out with Renee. No way she’s going to walk away from you and everything you guys have.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Jude watched him for a moment as he pulled the keys out of jacket pocket and hit the remote to unlock the doors.

  Even with the five years he’d missed seeing the two of them together, Jude believed the truth of what he’d said to Cash. He and Renee had started dating in the tenth grade. As far as Jude knew, Cash had never even looked at another woman. He’d known since he was fifteen years old—half his life—who he wanted to be with. Everyone who’d spent ten minutes with the two of them could see they were meant to be together. What could have happened to change that?

  Another question, one Jude didn’t want to spend a lot of time contemplating, was if Cash and Renee couldn’t make it, who could?

  The two of them had far more history than he and Summer did. Whenever Jude had seen them together, which was a lot, they’d seemed so happy, such a perfect fit. He thought about their parents. Presumably, at some point, they’d been happy too. What had happened to them?

  That one was a little easier. Their dad had turned out to be a selfish drunk. At what point had his mother realized that he wasn’t the man she had fallen in love with? How must that have made her feel? His chest clenched. Somehow he’d never given that much thought.

  In spite of everything, their mom hadn’t turned bitter. She’d remained positive and kind and steadfast, offering them as stable and loving a home as she possibly could have. Even now, after losing Tessa and not knowing where Jude was for so long, she had stayed strong and managed to maintain her sweet nature.

  Jude admired her more than anyone he knew. And his greatest desire was for her—for all of his family—to find the faith he and Summer had found. He couldn’t push them, though. All he could do, for his mother, for Cash and Renee, for Maddie, was pray for them. And then live his life in a way that showed them how much that faith had changed him and how it was helping him, every day, to become the man he desperately wanted to be.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Summer stumbled into the kitchen and went straight for the coffee pot. She shouldn’t be this tired. It was her day off and she’d slept in until nine. Since her alarm usually went off at six a.m., that was quite a change.

  Still, she was in desperate need of a hit of caffeine. After filling the machine with water and dumping in a few spoonfuls of her favorite hazelnut vanilla coffee, she stabbed at the power button and waited a few seconds until the machine started to gurgle. Ten small bottles of various colors and designs, filled with what looked like sand, lined the windowsill above the sink. Each one was labeled with a year between 1984 and 1993. Summer contemplated them. What was their story? She’d have to ask Nancy about them sometime. The air was chilly and she rubbed her arms with both hands. Why was it so cold down here?

  A meowing sound coming from the dining room snagged her attention. She’d heard water running in Nancy’s ensuite shower when she passed the master bedroom on her way downstairs. Her landlady must have slept in as late as she had. Poor kitty must be starving. She grabbed the cat food, filled the small metal bowl on the counter, and carried it through the doorway between the two rooms. “Here you go, Charles Dickens. I’m sorry your breakfast is so late this—”

  Summer froze. The door leading from the dining room into the backyard stood open, ice-cold air pouring into the room. What in the world? Had Nancy been down here earlier? Even if she had, why would she leave the back door open? The same creepy feeling that sent her stomach roiling when she watched a Hitchcock movie swirled around her, so strongly she could almost hear the sinister organ music. Had someone been in the house? She glanced around the room. Were they still here?

  She swallowed and forced herself to cross over to the door and peer outside. No one appeared to be out there. Should she close and lock the door? If whoever had come in was still here, maybe they should leave that exit readily accessible.

  With Nancy in the shower, as vulnerable as Janet Leigh in Psycho—Summer shivered at the thought—it was up to her to check out the house. Tranquila. Stay calm. She concentrated on inhaling and exhaling until the thudding in her chest eased slightly. A gust of cold air swept through the room, stirring up a faint odor Summer couldn’t quite identify. Bumps rose on her arms. Necesito algo con que defenderme. Yes, a weapon. Great idea. A Glock would come in very handy right about now. She frowned. Where had that thought come from? Would she have any idea what to do with a Glock if she had one? Summer shook her head. It was a moot point. She didn’t have a gun and, as far as she knew, had never owned a pistol in her life. A knife would have to do.

  As quietly as possible, she set the dish of food down, hoping that would keep the cat busy and quiet for awhile, and closed the back door, leaving it unlocked. She tiptoed into the kitchen. Her fingers trembling slightly, she slid the kitchen drawer open and pulled out the sharpest-looking knife. After closing the drawer with her hip, she turned and made her way out into the hallway, gripping the knife tightly.

  Now that she was armed, something clicked in Summer’s brain. The fear dissipated and she shoved back her shoulders as she moved, nearly soundlessly, down the hallway, her back pressed to the wall. She checked out the living room, study, and downstairs washroom. No one waited behind any of the doors or crouched on the far side of a piece of furniture. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. I need to check upstairs. She started down the hallway. When a knock sounded on the front door, she swung toward the noise, holding the knife out in front of her in both hands. The shadowy outline of a man in the window of the door tightened up her stomach. Was it whoever had snuck into their house in the night? She shook her head. Unlikely he would come to the front door and announce his presence.

  Whoever it was knocked again. Still clutching the knife, Summer hid it behind her back and made her way to the door. She shoved aside the red and white striped curtain. Ryan. Her muscles relaxed as she pulled open the door. “Hey.”

  The slow smile that got to her every time crossed his face as he held up two paper cups. “Thought you might need coffee since you’re not at the café today.”

  Adrenaline still pumping through her, Summer couldn’t muster a smile in return. The sound of Nancy singing drifted down the stairs. With Ryan standing there, the rich smell of coffee drifting from the cups in his hands, sunlight pouring through the door, and Nancy’s off-key singing filling the air, the idea that someone might be lurking around their house seemed suddenly ludicrous. Likely her landlady had gone out to retrieve something earlier that morning and come in
through the back door. If she hadn’t shut it tightly, the wind could easily have pushed it open. No doubt Summer had blown the entire thing out of proportion. She took a step back. “That’s sweet, thank you. Come in.”

  Ryan stepped over the threshold and held out one of the cups. “Here you go.”

  Her right hand still bent behind her back, she reached for the coffee with her left. He gave her a funny look. “Everything okay?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You have your hand behind your back. Any particular reason?”

  She forced as innocent a look onto her face as possible. “Nope.” Any chance she could keep the knife out of sight until they were back in the kitchen and then slip it into the drawer when he wasn’t looking? “Let’s go sit at the table.”

  “Ana.”

  She swallowed. Even if he didn’t know her real name, Ryan still looked at her as if fully aware that she was keeping something from him. And it didn’t appear as though he was going to budge from his spot inside the door until she told him what it was. Summer sighed. Warmth crept into her cheeks as she brought the knife out from behind her back and held it up to show him.

  He frowned. “Why are you carrying a knife like a weapon?”

  It might be easier to show him than tell him. “It’s probably nothing, but something did happen this morning that freaked me out a little. Come into the dining room.”

  She spun around and headed down the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the wood floor behind her. When they passed through the kitchen, she tossed the knife into the drawer before leading him into the adjoining room. Summer stopped and gestured toward the back door. “I heard Charles Dickens meowing in here a few minutes ago. When I brought his food in, the back door was wide open.”

  “Really?” Ryan strode across the room and peered through the window in the door. “Where’s Nancy?”

  “Still upstairs. I didn’t think she’d been up that long, but maybe she came down earlier to grab something and didn’t shut the door tightly.”

  “Do those look like her footprints?”

  Summer walked over to stand beside him. She studied the prints that crossed the yard and up onto the back deck and another chill swept over her skin. “No, actually. They look too big to be hers.” But if Nancy hadn’t been the one to leave them, then who had? And where was that person now? She looked up at Ryan, her eyes widening. “There are no footprints leading away from the house. Do you think whoever did this is still inside? I looked all around the main floor, but…” Nancy. She whirled around. “I need to check upstairs.”

  “Wait.” Ryan grabbed her elbow. “I’ll go.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t sit around down here waiting. I’m going up. You can come with me if you want to.”

  He looked as though he wanted to argue but pressed his lips together and nodded. They retraced their steps down the hall and up the wide staircase. Nancy was still singing away loudly in her room, so Summer assumed the master must be clear. She and Ryan walked quickly through the other bedrooms on the floor, checking under beds and in closets. Nothing. Finally they searched her room but didn’t come across anything out of the ordinary.

  “I think the house is clear.” They stopped in the middle of the area rug and Ryan cupped her shoulders, searching her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course. It all seems silly now.”

  “I don’t think it’s silly at all. Someone did walk across the backyard. And since whoever it was didn’t leave that way, there are only two explanations. Either they’re still in the house, which we’ve pretty much established they aren’t…”

  “Or they left through the front door.”

  “Exactly.”

  Summer whirled and headed for the hall. Ryan followed her down the stairs to the door and, when she pulled it open, moved to stand beside her in the doorway. The front porch was covered by a shingled overhang, and the wood slats below were largely free of snow and ice. Summer had shoveled the stairs and front walkway the day before, so no clear footprints stood out like they did at the back. She grabbed her boots and tugged them on so she could join Ryan, who’d stepped out onto the porch.

  “See anything?” She wore the plaid flannel bottoms and black T-shirt she’d slept in. The front of the house was largely blocked from the wind. Still, the air carried an icy enough bite that she hugged herself tightly as she walked to the top of the stairs.

  “Not yet.” He started down and she followed. With her eyes glued to the front walk, she missed seeing a small patch of ice on the bottom step. When her boot slipped to one side, she braced herself with both hands against Ryan’s back to keep from falling. He turned and grasped her forearms. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head. “Just incredibly clumsy lately. Sorry.” Something caught Summer’s attention from the corner of her eye and she glanced down. “Look.” She tugged herself free from Ryan’s grasp and bent to examine the partial print in the snow at the edge of the sidewalk. “Looks the same as the ones out back, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I think so, yes. The police will be able to determine that for sure.”

  She straightened. “You think I should call the police?”

  “Of course. Someone was in your house. You can’t take that lightly.”

  “I should check with Nancy first, make sure it wasn’t her. She could have pulled on her husband’s old boots or something if she had to go outside for something.”

  “If she didn’t, you’ll call the police, right?”

  The thought of uniformed officers swarming through their house on what was supposed to be her one quiet day this week sent a rush of irritation through her. Her jaw tightened. It didn’t appear as though anything in the house was missing. Why on earth had someone come into the house? To show them he could? That thought sent shudders through her. What if it was the same man who had broken into her house before? Had he found her? If so, she wasn’t the only one in danger. She’d put Nancy in the path of this psychopath. The last of the warmth drained from her body.

  “Ana? What is it?” Ryan sounded alarmed. When she didn’t respond, he reached for her hand and tugged her toward the porch. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

  She followed him into the house, but the shivers rolling through her had little to do with the outside temperature. Ryan led her down the hallway and into the kitchen. “Sit down. We’ll have our coffee, and when Nancy comes down we’ll figure out the best thing to do.”

  Summer sat, woodenly. Ryan took the chair across from her. He still held her hand and now he reached for her other one. “Look at me.” When she did, he rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

  She nodded. Sitting here, in the bright sunlight, his strong fingers grasping hers, she could almost believe him. “Here.” He let go of one of her hands and moved the coffee he’d brought closer to her. “Drink this.”

  Summer lifted the paper cup to her lips and took a sip. The aroma curled around her and she breathed deeply. That had to be one of the best smells in the world. So much better than…

  She lowered the cup to the table. The scent she had breathed in earlier, in the dining room, the one that she hadn’t quite been able to pinpoint, came to her now, like a memory roused by the new aroma drifting in through her nostrils. With absolute certainty, she knew what it was she had smelled.

  Cigarette smoke.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Jude paced the huge, fenced-in backyard behind Nancy’s house, his phone pressed to one ear. Come on. Come on. Come on. After what seemed like an eternity, a voice came over the line. “Travers.”

  “Evan, it’s Jude.”

  “Jude. I’m glad you called. I have news.”

  “Me too.”

  “What’s going on? Is Summer okay?”

  “So far, yes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Jude kicked at a chunk of ice in his
path. “Someone was in her house last night.”

  “In her house? Did he attack her again?”

  “No. When she went downstairs this morning, the back door was wide open. There were footprints across the yard and up the stairs but nothing going back out. We did find prints leading away from the front entrance though, that looked to be from the same boots. The police here in Elora are checking that out now.”

  After a few seconds of silence, Evan blew out a breath. “So, if it was the same guy, he was letting her know he’s found her and can get to her any time.”

  “That was my take, yes. You need to get people here now.”

  “Look, Jude, here’s the thing. We’re following a hot new lead. I’m pretty sure this investigation is about to break wide open. When it does, we’ll know who’s after Summer and we can take him down.”

  “How long is that going to take?”

  “I don’t know, twenty-four, forty-eight hours at the most is my guess. I can’t come there myself, I need to be on this. I’ll try to get someone else there, but in the meantime, can you keep an eye on her?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. But if you could send someone, that would be great.”

  “I’ll do my best. You likely won’t know they’re there, though. They’ll want to keep out of sight to avoid scaring this guy off.”

  Scaring this guy off sounded pretty good to Jude. He had to trust the police on this, though. “All right. I’ll stay with her.”

  “Great. I’m not leaving the office again until this is all wrapped up. Believe me, I want that as badly as you do.”

  Jude seriously doubted it. “Okay. Thanks, Evan.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  He shoved the phone into the back pocket of his jeans and ran a hand over his head. Great. Protective detail. He was an addictions counselor. What did he know about fending off sociopathic killers with guns?

  Jude lowered his hand. He may not know a lot about defending himself from dangerous criminals, but he did know two things. He would gladly give his own life to keep Summer safe. And he knew exactly where to get a gun.