Sunshine and the Shadowmaster

by Christine Rimmer

  “What is it?” Lucas asked.

  “Nothing. Just the light. It surprised me, that’s all.”

  “Shall I turn it off again?”

  “No. No, of course not.” She made herself lower her shielding hand.

  But it wasn’t easy. For now all the soft shadows had hard edges. And the full impact of what she and this man had done in the night seemed to be bearing down on her like a runaway train.

  “Heather.”

  She clutched the sheet close against her breasts and looked at him, a look she tried to make bright and alert. “Hmm?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, biting her lip, wondering where her pajamas had ended up. “I want to take a quick shower and then—”

  “Heather.”

  “I...what?”

  He touched her face then, trapping a stray lock of hair with his finger and guiding it behind her ear. “I smell regret.”

  He was right, of course. Daylight was coming. Real life, as he had said. She didn’t want to regret what they had done. It had been beautiful.

  But in the bright light of day, she knew what she would think about it.

  Yes, it had been beautiful. It had helped them both survive a night that otherwise would have been close to unbearable.

  But it had still been wrong.

  His hand fell away. “I’m right, aren’t I?” His voice was gruff.

  Heather didn’t know what to say to him. And there wasn’t really time now to talk about it, anyway. “Look. We should get moving, don’t you think? The search crews always get started right at dawn.”

  “We’re going to talk about this.”

  “Not now.”

  “All right. Tonight.”

  She gestured with her hand, a futile movement. “Sure. Over dinner. When your ex-wife is here.”

  “What are you getting at? Candace and I are Mark’s parents, but that’s all. There’s nothing else between us anymore.”

  “I know that. I understand that.”

  “Then believe me. She’ll leave us alone if we want to be alone.”

  He was very close to her, virtually backing her against the headboard. The scent of him beguiled her. He looked at her earnestly. And he didn’t appear quite so haggard as he had last night. That doomed, dead look was gone from his eyes.

  Had what they’d shared done that for him?

  “Lucas, I...”

  “What?”

  “This is all just so...confusing to me.”

  “You weren’t confused last night.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what’s the matter now?”

  She raked her tangled hair back with her fingers. She kept remembering the things they’d done. The things she had felt. She’d never felt like that before.

  Not with her own husband. Not with Jason Lee.

  And that seemed a horrible admission to make. A betrayal, in a way, of all that Jason Lee had been to her and of the love that was supposed to have lasted both of them a lifetime.

  “Heather?”

  She blinked, and came back to herself. “Yes? What is it?”

  Lucas pulled away, enough that she no longer felt trapped by his nearness. “Look.” His eyes were hooded once again, his tone reserved. “You’re right. There’s too damn much to worry about now. We’ll let it be.”

  Relief swept through her—followed by a strange, sad wave of regret.

  He went on, “And you’re right about the search crews, too. We’d better get up and get going.”

  She nodded, eager to agree with him, eager to put more distance between the two of them. “Yes, yes, we should.”

  He rolled off the bed on his side and scooped his clothes from the chair. “I’ll hit the shower.”

  She looked away from his slender, sculpted nakedness. “Me, too.”

  He turned and left for the bathroom.

  The minute he was out the door, Heather jumped from the bed and scrambled around on the floor until she found her pajamas. She pulled them on swiftly, ran to the kitchen to collect her robe and then headed for the stairs to her own room.

  After she was showered and the smell of their lovemaking no longer clung to her, Heather began to feel marginally better about everything. And once she had her clothes on, she felt better still.

  She and Lucas were two single people. No one had been hurt. It had been...one of those things that happen. And it had been beautiful. And it would never happen again. That was all.

  Heather brushed on blusher and a little mascara and tackled her hair with the curling iron. Then she rushed down the stairs to throw some breakfast together.

  Lucas was already in the kitchen when she got there. He had the coffee started and was pulling a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

  He turned when he heard her come in and held out the eggs. “Scrambled easy. Good enough?”

  And something happened deep inside her. Something moved and tightened and yearned.

  Oh, no, she thought, this can’t be. It was only supposed to be for last night. Now we go back to our real lives, to who we really are....

  But her silent admonitions to herself did no good. All she wanted to do was rush to him and press her body against his. To lift her mouth eagerly for a warm, welcoming good-morning kiss.

  “Right?” he was asking her.

  She ordered her foolish mind to remember the question. It was about the eggs. About how she liked her eggs.

  “Yes, scrambled easy,” she managed to croak. “That’s just fine.”

  And right then the phone rang. Lucas was closest to it, so he shut the refrigerator door and turned to pick it up.

  “Yes?” he said. “Hey, no problem.” Then, after a moment, “Yeah. Come right over.” He hung up.

  “Well?” Heather asked.

  Lucas turned and leaned on the counter. “That was Jack. He says he’s been thinking. He’s got a theory he wants to run by us.”

  “About Mark?”

  “Yes. About Mark.”

  Heather’s heart lifted. Before he found his family in North Magdalene and settled down with Olivia Larrabee, Heather’s uncle Jack had been a crack detective, famous for his tracking skills. If Uncle Jack had a theory about where to look for Mark, then Heather couldn’t wait to hear it.

  * * *

  “You said you wanted to be in on whatever I came up with,” Jack told Lucas twenty minutes later when he sat at Heather’s breakfast table with a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. “So I’ve come to you with this before doing any follow-up at all.”

  “I appreciate it,” Lucas said.

  “It’s just a theory,” Jack warned.

  “So let’s have it.”

  Jack leaned his elbows on the table and wrapped both hands around his coffee cup. “The way I see it, Mark wants to be here, in North Magdalene.” Jack shifted and sat back in the chair. “He came all the way here on his own when he first ran away. And then I think it’s fair to assume, since we found his knife, that he stayed in the area at least for the first night after that.”

  “So?”

  “So the more I’ve gone over this thing, the more convinced I am that he didn’t take off hitchhiking again. I think he only hit the road in the first place to get here. And now that he is here, he hasn’t left.”

  “But if he’s hiding, then where?”

  “I don’t know where. But I do believe we would have found a sign or two of him beyond the Swiss army knife if he was still on his own with this thing.”

  “Someone’s helping him, someone’s shown him a good place to hide.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But who? We questioned everyone in town and got nowhere.”

  Jack sipped from his cup. “Think back. That first day, we searched all of North Magdalene. We questioned every family and we went through every vacant building.”

  “Right. So?”

  “We also talked to the three people we thought might possibly help Mark to hide if he went to th
em—Oggie Jones, Kenny Riggins and Marnie Jones.”

  “And?”

  “Then, the next day, we found the knife in the pipe. Which led us to believe that Mark had spent at least one night on his own, with nobody knowing where he had gone.”

  Lucas was catching on. “You think he went to Marnie or Kenny or Oggie after we talked to them, is that it?”

  “I’ll do better than that. I think he went to Marnie. She’s quick and tough and loyal as they come.”

  Heather, standing by the counter, thought of Marnie’s wary look when they’d given her Mark’s letters the night before. And the way the child had stood in the doorway, watching after them, as they walked back to the car.

  But Lucas had another idea. “Why not Oggie?” he suggested. “When we talked to him, he seemed to understand exactly why my son had run away. Isn’t it possible he would help Mark to hide, if Mark went to him?”

  “No,” Jack said. “I rule out my dad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he takes being a father too seriously. He might lecture you on your mistakes with Mark from now until doomsday, but he’d never let any man go through three days and nights of living hell thinking his son might be gone for good.” Jack let out a rueful sigh. “Still. I have been wrong once or twice in my life. So, of course, we’ll go talk to him again, if we get nothing from Marnie.”

  “What about Kenny?”

  “Uh-uh. I don’t think so. Kenny’s not crafty or tough enough to find Mark a safe place to hide and then manage to keep him in food and water without getting caught. Kenny might be in on the secret. He might be helping out, taking orders. I gathered from the letters Mark wrote Marnie that the three of them were all very tight. But the brains behind this operation is Marnie Jones. She’s our girl. I’ll bet money on it.”

  “Marnie,” Lucas murmured. “He went to Marnie Jones.”

  Jack nodded. “And he did it after we’d questioned her and she’d honestly told us she hadn’t seen him. I’ll bet she’ll have more to tell us now, if we put the pressure on. And I’ll bet she’s helped Mark to hide somewhere very close to town, maybe even right in town, somewhere we’d already eliminated that first day.”

  * * *

  Jack had planned to let Lucas come along with him to Marnie’s house, with the firm understanding that Lucas would not interrupt Jack’s questioning of Marnie in any way. But when Heather begged to come, too, Jack let out a groan.

  “This is a damned police investigation, you know, Sunshine.”

  “I know, Uncle Jack. That’s why I promise you, I’ll sit in a chair and listen and not say a word.”

  Uncle Jack grunted and grumbled some more, then he gave in just as Tawny arrived to take care of the place. They went to Marnie’s house right away, even though it was barely light outside. Jack drove his sheriff’s department four-by-four, with Lucas in the front beside him and Heather in the caged-in back seat.

  When they got there, Patrick Jones answered the door. “What the hell’s going on?” Patrick demanded of his early-morning visitors. His hair was sleep-rumpled and he was still buttoning up his shirt.

  Regina, in a high-necked bathrobe, peered over his shoulder. “Don’t leave them standing on the porch, my darling. Invite them in. I’ll start the coffee.”

  “Yeah, right,” Patrick grumbled. He stepped back, gesturing Heather and Lucas and Jack inside. “Have a seat.” He waved at the couch and chairs in the living room.

  They all sat down as Teresa, Marnie’s older sister, appeared from the hall, tying the sash of a quilted lavender robe around her waist. “Is everything all right?”

  Patrick gave her a sleepy smile, “Your guess is as good as mine, Tessy. C’mon. Sit down.”

  Teresa padded into the room and sat on the stool of the upright piano that stood against a side wall.

  Just then, Regina reappeared. “Coffee in a few minutes.”

  Patrick grinned sleepily at his wife. “Get over here, Gina.”

  Regina came and perched beside her husband. He tossed a muscular arm across her shoulders and they shared a quick, intimate smile.

  Heather, in a chair across the coffee table, watched her aunt and uncle together and felt that same forbidden yearning she had experienced a little earlier that day, when she entered her kitchen and found Lucas at the refrigerator.

  She couldn’t help herself. She glanced at Lucas, who was sitting in a chair to her left. He caught the glance. His eyes probed hers.

  She quickly looked away.

  “Okay, what’s up?” Patrick asked Jack.

  “Nothing for sure,” Jack answered. “But we’d really like a few words with Marnie. Is she here?”

  “Sure.” Patrick spoke to Teresa. “Go get her, Tessy.”

  Teresa jumped from the stool and headed off down the hall again.

  Patrick asked, rather grimly, “Can you give us a hint or two about what’s happening here?”

  “Of course,” Jack said. He launched into the theory he’d shared with Lucas and Heather a half an hour before. But he only got halfway through it, because Teresa appeared, a frown between her smooth, young brows.

  “Marnie’s not there,” Teresa said. “The window’s open wide. And the pajamas that she was wearing last night are in a pile on the floor.” The girl wrinkled her nose. “It kind of looks to me like she got dressed and got out quick. I guess she didn’t want to talk to you guys.”

  * * *

  They went immediately to Kenny Riggins’s house. And this time they didn’t waste a minute sitting in the living room making idle chitchat.

  Kenny was roused from sleep and brought to stand before Deputy Jack Roper.

  He shuffled his feet and stared at his bare toes and squirmed and shook. But he held up under Jack’s relentless questions for fifteen full minutes.

  Then, reluctantly, he raised his head. “You gotta understand. I swore never to tell.” There was sweat on his upper lip and his freckles looked bleached out.

  Jack’s voice, which up until then had been firm and uncompromising, now turned gentle. “I know you did, Kenny. But this can’t go on forever, now, can it?”

  Kenny wiped the sweat off his upper lip while his lower lip quivered. “Marnie will kill me.”

  “No, she won’t,” Jack said evenly. “Think about it. I’ll bet all three of you have been wondering, just a little, how to bring this mess to an end.”

  Kenny gave his toes another long, miserable look. Then he dared to raise his head again. “When I took him a sandwich yesterday, I think Mark was crying. He tried not to let me know, but I think he was, right before I came. Even in that spooky, dark old house, I could see his eyes were red.”

  In the chair beside Heather, Lucas was sitting very still. Too still. Heather knew that he wanted to grab Kenny and shake him until the boy blurted out where Mark was. But he was containing himself. Barely.

  Jack prompted, “Come on, son. It’s over. Tell us where Mark is.”

  There was an awful, hanging moment of silence.

  And then Kenny blurted out, “Okay. He’s at Marnie’s Grandpa Oggie’s old house. You know, the one he used to live in before he moved in with Marnie’s Aunt Delilah?”

  Lucas shifted in his chair. Heather glanced his way in time to see him fling Jack an I-told-you-so look.

  “Are you saying that Oggie Jones is in on this?” Jack asked, before Lucas could jump in and scare the boy to death.

  Kenny gulped and shook his head. “No, sir. He ain’t. He’s a grown-up. This was only us. The three Mountaineers.”

  “The what?”

  “Uh, you know. Mountaineers. Like Musketeers. One for all and all for one. You know.”

  Jack solemnly nodded. “I see.”

  “It’s just his house we used is all, because it’s kinda off by itself. And Marnie said her grandpa never goes near there, now he’s set up all nice and comfy at her Aunt Delilah’s place.”

  Lucas could contain himself no longer. “Are you sure my son is there, at
Oggie Jones’s house?”

  Kenny gulped again. “He was there yesterday, when I took him that sandwich. And Marnie told me last night that she snuck out after dinner to take him some things. Maybe he could have left. I don’t know.” He glanced rather helplessly from one grown-up to another. “Mark’s real smart, you know. He could do anything. I think he’s there. I don’t know....”

  Lucas turned to Jack. “Let’s go.”

  Jack took a moment to confer with Kenny’s father. Joshua Riggins promised that Kenny wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. If the boy was needed for more questioning, Jack would know where to find him.

  Within minutes of leaving the Riggins place, they swung into the overgrown yard in front of the house where Heather’s father had grown up. Jack turned off the engine. The place looked deserted. All the tattered old curtains were closed. Two of the windows to the right of the tiny front porch were broken, their sharp, jagged edges catching and reflecting back the light of the morning sun.

  Lucas reached for the door handle.

  Jack put his hand on Lucas’s arm. “Hold on.”

  “I’m going in.”

  “Fine. Go up to the door and knock.”

  “What?” Lucas stared at Heather’s uncle in disbelief.

  Jack actually smiled. “Just knock. And wait.”

  “But what if—”

  “Look. I’ll go around the back, in case he gets cold feet at the last minute and decides to try to run for it. He’s in there, don’t worry. I saw the curtains move. And from what Kenny told us, he’s ready to deal with you. If you can be reasonable... Can you be reasonable, Lucas?”

  “Uncle Jack’s right, Lucas.” Heather spoke from her seat in the cage behind Lucas. “Mark is in there. I can feel it. But you mustn’t go at him harshly. You must give him a chance to come to the door and let you in.”

  Lucas turned and looked at her, a raking look.

  She didn’t look away. “Please, Lucas.”

  Lucas dragged in a breath and lowered his gaze. “Hell. I know you’re right. I’ll do it your way.”

  She smiled at him. “You won’t regret it.”

  He met her eyes again. “I hope not.”

  Jack and Lucas got out of the four-by-four at the same time. Jack circled around behind the house as Lucas mounted the rickety steps to the door. Heather followed more slowly behind Lucas, pausing in the middle of the overgrown front lawn.