Sudden Second Chance

by Carol Ericson

  “Duke!” Beth grabbed his hand. “Do something.”

  “You heard what she told us. We could actually do more harm than good if we interrupt her.”

  Scarlett brought one hand to her throat, clutching at it and gasping for breath.

  Beth dug her nails into Duke’s hand. She couldn’t let this go on. What if something happened to Scarlett in this altered state?

  Duke’s arm tightened around her, as if he could read her thoughts. “Wait.”

  Scarlett gave another strangled cry and the hand not clutching the locket shot out. She grabbed Beth’s upper arm, her grip like a vise. She pulled Beth toward her, toward the fire in the grate.

  Duke held on to her, making her a rope in a tug-of-war.

  “Let me go, Duke.”

  He released his hold on her and she allowed Scarlett to drag her beside her on the rug. Scarlett’s hand slipped to Beth’s and she laced her fingers with hers.

  A flash jolted Beth’s body. She could hear Duke’s voice calling to her a million miles away as she traveled through darkness scattered with pinpoints of light. The heat from the fire had disappeared and a bone-chilling cold gripped her body. The blackness turned to a deep forest green, rushing and rustling past her.

  Then it stopped. She jerked to a halt. The rushing sound became voices—loud, yelling, screaming, crying.

  She smelled it before she saw it—metallic, pungent—blood. So much blood, waves of it, slick, wet. A baby crying.

  Beth gagged, ripping her hand from Scarlett’s.

  Scarlett dropped the locket and pressed her palms against either side of her head. “The blood. The blood. So much blood.”

  Duke lunged forward and hooked his hands beneath Beth’s arms, hoisting her up and against his chest. “Are you all right? What the hell was that?”

  Beth’s eyes felt so heavy she could barely raise them to Duke’s face. “Blood.”

  “Sit.” He pushed her into the chair and then hunched over Scarlett. “Are you okay, Scarlett? Should I get you anything?”

  “Water, bring us some water.” She stretched out on her back, flinging one arm across her eyes.

  A few minutes later Duke pressed a glass to Beth’s lips. “Drink.”

  She gulped the water so fast it dribbled down her chin and she didn’t even care. After she downed the glass, she looked up, blinking, clearing her vision.

  Scarlett’s eyes met hers. “You saw it, too, didn’t you?”

  Beth nodded.

  Dragging his hands through his dark hair, Duke paced to the window and back. “What the hell just happened? Did you drag Beth into your vision? Did you drug her?”

  “Hold on there, cowboy.” Scarlett held up her index finger. “That tea is not a drug. Yes, it does enhance my visions, but I had no idea it would have any effect on Beth. That’s never happened before.”

  “What’s never happened before? You giving someone that witch’s brew or you dragging someone into your trance?”

  Scarlett pressed her lips into a thin line and then she flicked her fingers at Duke. “How are you feeling, Beth?”

  “I feel fine, amazing actually. It was like an out-of-body experience.”

  “Can you please get Beth more water instead of blustering around the room?”

  Duke’s mouth opened, shut, and then he growled. He took Beth’s glass and stormed off to the kitchen.

  “You’ll be fine, Beth. I’m sorry I grabbed your hand like that. I am telling the truth. I’ve never done that before, didn’t even know it was a possibility.”

  “Never mind all that. What did we see?”

  “You tell me. What did you see?”

  Beth’s lashes fluttered. “I saw... I smelled blood. I heard people yelling and screaming. I heard a child or a baby crying.”

  “Amazing.” Scarlett shook her head. “That’s what I got, too. You shared my vision.”

  “What does it mean, Scarlett?” Beth took the glass from Duke and gave him a small smile. It didn’t seem like he liked Scarlett all that much anymore.

  “What do you think it means?” Scarlett settled her back against the base of the fireplace.

  “If it’s connected to the locket I had before my adoption, it has something to do with my past. Could it be the scene of my kidnapping?”

  “Whoa, wait a minute.” Duke held out one hand. “There was no mention of blood at your kidnapping. There was no blood spilled at any of the kidnappings.”

  Beth tapped her water glass with one fingernail. “Could it just be a representation of the violence of my kidnapping, Scarlett?”

  “I’m not sure about that. I guess so.” She stood up and stretched. “Did you recognize the place?”

  “The place?”

  “The cabin. I’m pretty sure it was a cabin.”

  “Oh.” Beth slumped back in the chair. “I didn’t see a place, just the blood, the smells, the sounds.”

  “That’s another problem. Heather Brice was kidnapped from her parents’ house, which was not a cabin.” Duke jerked his thumb at the necklace still glinting on the rug where Scarlett had dropped it. “How do you know this...vision has anything to do with you? It could be something connected to the previous owner of the locket. Right, Scarlett?”

  “I suppose so, but I was compelled to take Beth’s hand, to bring her in.”

  “The facts are you don’t have a clue what you’re doing here. You drink some herbal tea, you utter some mumbo jumbo, you have some visions and you leave your clients with more questions than answers.”

  “Clients?” Scarlett widened her stance and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “I’m an artist. The only clients I have are the ones who buy my art and sponsor my shows.”

  “Duke, Scarlett agreed to do this because I asked her. While frightened by what I saw and heard, I’m satisfied with what we did here tonight.”

  “Okay.” Duke clasped the back of his neck and tipped his head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. I just don’t see how this helps Beth.”

  Beth bent down to sweep up her necklace. “What else did you see, Scarlett? Anything more about the cabin? I didn’t join your vision until later. You must’ve experienced more than I did.”

  “It was a cabin, a nice one, and it had a red door. I can’t tell you anything else specific about it—I didn’t see the location, any particular furnishings or the people in it.”

  Duke snorted and Beth shot him a warning glance.

  “But I did see two birds.”

  “Flying around? That’s helpful.”

  Beth jabbed Duke in the ribs for his sarcastic tone, but Scarlett didn’t seem to notice.

  “There were two birds...over the fireplace? I’m not sure. I just remember two birds—maybe on a painting, maybe they were those hideous stuffed taxidermy things.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The people—there was a man, a woman and a child, wasn’t there?”

  “I certainly heard voices, but I’m not sure I could distinguish them, and I did hear a baby or a child crying.”

  “And the hair.” Scarlett reached out and lifted a strand of Beth’s hair. “The woman had strawberry blond hair.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Beth took another turn around the hotel room. “What do you think it means? A woman with strawberry blond hair?”

  “Who knows? Scarlett Easton is not exactly an expert at interpretation, is she?”

  “She never claimed to be.” Beth wedged her hands on her hips. “Why did you start attacking Scarlett when she was just trying to help me?”

  “Help you? By dragging you into her dream state? I thought—” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was worried about you.”

  Beth gave him a sidelong glance. “I thought you had
a thing for her.”

  “Scarlett’s not my type—too artsy, too reclusive, too...weird.” Folding his arms, he leaned against the window. “Would you care if I did have a thing for Scarlett?”

  Before he’d started keeping secrets from her? Hell, yeah. Now?

  She splayed her hands in front of her. “She’s a beautiful woman. I could understand the attraction.”

  Rolling his shoulders, he pushed off the window. “What are you going to do with the information? What does it prove?”

  Duke wasn’t going to take the bait.

  “It proves—” she dropped to the bed “—that I was in a cabin here as a child, before the Kings adopted me. I plan to locate that cabin.”

  “And you’re going to do that how? By running around Timberline and looking into all the cabins with red doors?”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Then what?”

  She fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Why are you trying to discourage me? I thought you were all in. I thought you were going to help me with this.”

  “That was before someone hit and killed Gary Binder, before someone started taking shots at you in the forest.”

  “Gary’s death doesn’t have anything to do with me, and that shot could’ve been a hunter harassing Scarlett.”

  “You’re doing it again, Beth.” The mattress sank as Duke sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re so single-mindedly focused on one goal you’re not seeing the whole picture.”

  “I don’t care about the whole picture.” She puffed out a breath and a strand of hair floated above her face and settled against her lips. “I need to do this. Scarlett has given me the first real lead since I got here and I’m going to follow up on it.”

  He shifted on the bed and she held her breath. If he took her in his arms right now and kissed her, she’d kiss him back and to hell with the secrets between them—his and hers.

  Standing above her, he shook his head. “Stubborn woman. I’ll help you.”

  Bracing her elbows against the bed, she hoisted herself up. “I’ll do it with or without you, but thanks.”

  “Get some sleep.” He nudged her foot and stalked to the door, mumbling as if to himself. “What else am I going to do, let you wander around the woods on your own like Little Red Riding Hood?”

  The door slammed behind him and Beth narrowed her eyes.

  He could start by telling her the truth about what he was doing with the Brices.

  * * *

  BETH USED HER interviews the next day to discreetly ask about cabins in the area. She also scanned her videos to see if any of the cabins she’d captured had red doors—they didn’t.

  After her third interview of the morning, Beth slumped behind the wheel of her rental and gave Jordan Young’s office another call. His assistant answered after the first ring.

  “This is Beth St. Regis again. Just checking to see if Mr. Young has some time today for that interview.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. St. Regis. Mr. Young is out of town today, but I know he’s looking forward to talking to you.”

  “I know he’s busy. Just tell him I called again and I’m available at his convenience.”

  “Will do.”

  Beth’s stomach growled and she patted it. She’d skipped out on breakfast this morning because she hadn’t wanted to share an awkward meal with Duke. The other night he must’ve thought they were growing closer, putting their bitter past behind them. He’d even apologized for cutting her off, had admitted misunderstanding her.

  She could’ve had it all back with him if she hadn’t seen that text from his boss, Mickey Tedesco. She could ask him about it point-blank, get it out in the open. Of course, then she’d have to admit she’d been sneaking around again and delving into his business.

  Was that wrong if he really was keeping secrets from her? It was like the cheating spouse. If your spouse was stepping out on you, didn’t that sort of excuse your checking his emails and text messages?

  She exited her car and turned up her collar against the wind. A drop of rain spattered against the back of her hand and she hunched forward and made a beeline for the sandwich shop on the corner.

  Ducking inside, she brushed droplets of moisture from her hair. The shop was more of a take-out place, but it did boast several wrought-iron tables to one side.

  She ordered an Italian sub at the counter, picked out a bag of chips and waited for the self-serve soft-drink machine. The guy at the machine turned suddenly and almost spilled his drink on her.

  “Sorry... Ms. St. Regis.”

  “Deputy Unger, how are you?” Her gaze dipped to his flannel shirt and jeans. “Off duty?”

  “Yes.” He held up a plastic bag, bulging with food. “Just picking up some lunch for my hunting trip.”

  “Oh, you hunt, too.” She wrinkled her nose. She was with Scarlett on her distaste of the so-called sport.

  “Most of us grow up hunting in these parts...and I always eat my game. I go for the turkey—” he pointed at the take-out counter “—probably a lot like your sandwich.”

  “I admit it. I’m a city girl. I don’t understand the sport.”

  He sealed a plastic lid on his cup and grabbed a straw. “I talked to my mom about your show. She’s actually okay with it.”

  Beth’s heart did a somersault in her chest. “That would be great. Thanks so much for talking to her.”

  Unger pounded his straw against the counter. “I think she would’ve contacted you on her own. She heard you were in town doing the story.”

  “I’m sure a few words from her son didn’t hurt.” And a few words from Duke to Unger on her behalf.

  Unger grabbed a napkin and asked the guy behind the counter for a pen. “Here’s her number. Feel free to call her anytime. She’s a retired schoolteacher and spends her days with knitting groups and book clubs and volunteering at the public library, but I think this is one of her free days if you have an opening.”

  “I do.” She folded the napkin and tucked it in her purse. “I’ve been trying to set up something with Jordan Young, but he’s never available.”

  “Yeah, Jordan. He’s a big wheeler-dealer in town—has been for years. He seems to get the sweetest deals. We all joke that he must have a dossier on every public official.”

  “Sounds like he knows the town’s secrets.”

  “He’s been here for a long time, even though he’s not a local. Came out of nowhere, married a local girl and set up shop pretty quickly—successful guy.”

  “Which is why he’s hard to pin down.” She patted her purse where she’d stashed his mother’s phone number. “Thanks again.”

  “Save your thanks until after the interview. My mom just might talk your ear off.” Taking a sip from his soda, he held up his hand and left the shop.

  She filled her cup with ice and root beer and picked up her sandwich from the counter. She’d have to thank Duke for this interview.

  As she sat down, Jason Foster walked through the door. He approached her table. “Hey, Beth. How’d it go with my cousin?”

  “We, uh, talked.”

  “She’s a trip, huh?”

  Trip—yeah, that was exactly the word she’d use.

  “I like her.”

  “Some do, some don’t. Did she tell you anything?” He waved to the guy at the counter. “You got my pastrami?”

  “She was helpful.”

  “Dang, that’s not a word I’d use for my cuz.” He pointed at the counter. “I have to pick up my lunch and get back to work. Glad Scarlett could help.”

  He paid for his sandwich and left the store.

  She didn’t know how close Scarlett and Jason were, but she didn’t feel comfortable talking about what went on at Scarlett’s cabin. Hell, she didn’t even kno
w what had happened there.

  She finished her lunch with no more interruptions and then pulled out the napkin with Mrs. Unger’s telephone number.

  Her anticipation was dashed when she heard the woman’s voice mail. Beth left a message and got up to refill her soda.

  Her phone started ringing and Beth sprinted back to the table and grabbed it. “Hello?”

  “Is this Beth St. Regis from the Cold Case Chronicles show?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Unger?”

  “You can call me Dorothy.”

  “Dorothy, thanks for calling back.” Beth pulled out her chair and sat down. “Your son said you’d be willing to talk to me about the Timberline Trio case, specifically about the Brices, since you knew them well.”

  “Such a sad time.” Dorothy clicked her tongue. “I’d be happy to talk to you, Beth. Do you think I’ll be on TV?”

  Beth’s lips twisted into a smile. “I’m not sure. It just depends. From what your son said, I thought you wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Oh, that’s Cody talking. Who wouldn’t want to be on TV?”

  “Can we meet at your house or wherever you’re comfortable?”

  “You can come by now if you like. I have a knitting circle at three o’clock, but I’m free until then.”

  “Perfect.”

  Dorothy gave Beth her address and she punched it into her phone’s GPS.

  A half an hour later, Beth reached Dorothy’s house, which was located in one of the newer tracks and easy to find.

  She pulled into the driveway behind an old but immaculate compact and retrieved her video camera and tripod from the trunk of her rental.

  Before she walked up to the front door, she sent a quick text to Duke thanking him for convincing Unger to let her have access to his mother—even if Dorothy would’ve contacted her on her own.

  Hitching the camera case over her shoulder, she walked up the two steps of the porch and rang the doorbell.

  A small, neat woman who mirrored the small, neat compact in the driveway answered the door. “Hello, Beth.”

  “Dorothy. Thanks for talking with me.”