Last Resort

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Last Resort Page 17

by Hannah Alexander


  “It doesn’t sound like she had any real reason to warn you not to trust your own sister,” Nathan said.

  Noelle slumped in her chair. “Nathan, if you knew about this gift of mine when we were growing up, doesn’t it stand to reason that Jill knew about it, too? She lived with me. She knew me.”

  “Has she ever said anything about it?”

  Noelle rubbed her eyes wearily, trying to recall. “I don’t remember ever talking about it with her…I don’t think. If she did know about it, why didn’t she call me when Carissa disappeared?”

  “You heard her explanation.”

  “That isn’t good enough.” Noelle touched his hand. “Nathan, Pearl may think that someone with this gift could tell if someone close to them was suffering from OCD.”

  “Can you tell?”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “But what if someone thought it did?” Nathan asked. “For instance Carissa was the first to pick up on Justin’s disorder. She complained about his need to constantly check everything over and over again. If someone believes she does share your gift—”

  “Then someone may feel that Carissa’s a threat,” Noelle said.

  “It’s a possibility.”

  Noelle stared down at her clasped hands. “You still don’t think it’s possible that there’s a strain of the OCD that leads the sufferer to violence? I know some sufferers worry that they’ve committed a violent act and can’t remember it.”

  “No way,” Nathan said. “OCD is a neurosis, not a psychosis,” Nathan said. “The obsession or compulsion takes place in the mind. Come on, you know this.”

  “But it’s also carried out with overt actions, such as obsessive washing, checking, counting or the excessive saving of all sorts of things. Those are actions.”

  “Repeatedly washing your hands is a far cry from murder.”

  “But I’m only asking what if the obsession is powerful enough to lead to violence? Or what if the compulsion is murder?”

  “It’s murder only if an overload of words can kill. You’ve seen Justin when he’s wound up. Sometimes he gets to talking about something he’s obsessing about, and he can’t seem to shut up about it.”

  Noelle scowled at him. “You’re joking now, but I’m serious.”

  “I’ve done quite a bit of research online with my medical links since we discovered Justin’s problem. The only record I ever found of an OCD patient committing a violent crime contained an indication that the individual had other neurological damage. In other words, no. Absolutely not. OCD is not dangerous.”

  “Then maybe there’s also an inherited brain disorder in the Cooper family.” Noelle caught his look, shrugged, stood up, impatient with herself, with Nathan, with the whole situation. “I know, I know, I’m getting into science fiction, but a couple of days ago I’d have told you everything that’s happened today could never happen.” She picked up a magazine, glanced at the country living scene on the cover, then tossed it back onto the table. “Pearl told me something else tonight.”

  “What?”

  “That the sawmill accident ten years ago was actually murder.”

  Nathan blinked at her. “Whoa! Where did she come up with that?”

  “It could be true. You questioned the accident yourself. My family worked with heavy logs for many years. An accident with all three of the principle managers in the line of fire, with no malfunctioning equipment? Not likely. I know the sheriff checked everything out, but we didn’t have Greg then. The former sheriff wasn’t much of an investigator.”

  “Did you find anything useful on your search?”

  “Nothing concrete, but enough to rouse my curiosity. Have you heard if Greg’s come to any conclusions about evidence of foul play in Harvey’s death?”

  “Nothing. But Cecil told me that someone was sent to see if your ex-husband has an alibi for last night.”

  “And?”

  “He gave one, but they were still checking it out. Here’s another interesting development. Carissa overheard an argument between Melva and Harvey Sand not too long ago.”

  “What kind of an argument?”

  Nathan stretched and combed his fingers through his hair. He was obviously suffering from sleep deprivation, and Noelle decided she would be the one to keep first watch on Carissa tonight. Nathan desperately needed some snooze time.

  “Harvey apparently wanted money to keep someone from going to prison, probably Cecil.”

  “Cecil? For what? You mean Harvey was blackmailing them?”

  “That’s what it sounds like to me,” he said. “But what would Harvey have on Cecil that he could use to blackmail him? Did you find anything in the attic?”

  Noelle reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out the papers she had gathered on her foray. “Look at these ledger sheets. They show a good profit, don’t they? Nothing for Jill and Cecil to be worried about. But look, I found this, too.” She pulled out the copy of the cashier’s check for fifteen thousand dollars made out to Frazier Logging, signed by Melva. “Do you recognize this company?”

  Nathan took the copy and studied it. “Frazier was Melva’s mother’s maiden name.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I filled a prescription for her grandmother when they came down to visit a few weeks ago.”

  Noelle tapped her finger against the copy. “So Melva’s definitely mixed up in this somehow. But she and Harvey were talking about Cecil going to prison. What could Cecil have done to get himself into so much trouble?”

  “It’s hard to believe Cecil would do anything criminal.”

  “I saw another photocopy of a check in the bedroom at the house,” Noelle said. “It was made out to the same company, but it was for a hundred thousand and signed by Cecil. It was ten years old.”

  Nathan whistled softly. “Ten years ago? But there’s a statute of limitations…. Except for murder.”

  “No way,” Noelle said. “I don’t believe it. Not Cecil.”

  “I don’t believe it, either, but what if Harvey was convinced it was the truth? If he had no proof, how would he be able to blackmail Melva?”

  Noelle jumped to her feet, shoving her hands in her pockets as she stalked across the room. “I can’t believe you’re even thinking like that, Nathan.” She turned back. “You know Cecil better.”

  “Yes, I do. I wonder what Greg’s found. You told me earlier about some undercurrent of tension within the family after the mill accident. Any idea what that was all about?”

  “I was in a rotten marriage and busy messing up my own life at the time, Nathan. I could have imagined it. We’re jumping to conclusions here. We don’t have all the facts yet.”

  “What else did you find tonight?”

  Noelle switched on another table lamp. Its soft glow lit the poem that she pulled from her pocket, the verse she had taken from Carissa’s room. “You heard me ask Carissa about this.” She handed it to him. “Do your stuff, counselor, and tell me what this means to you.”

  Nathan read the poem twice while the clock ticked from the wall in the reception office and a car passed by slowly on the street outside. Noelle watched the play of emotions across his face as he read. She returned to her chair.

  He looked up, shaking his head. “Looks like the typical morbid teenage poem. Who wrote it?”

  Noelle reached into her jacket pocket for the diary she had found. “This was Jill’s. I noticed the writing earlier, but didn’t put the two together until just now.” She opened it randomly. “Good match, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I didn’t realize your sister was given to literary endeavors.”

  “Especially such morbid ones. She apparently liked to put her thoughts down on paper.” Jill had always been outspoken, honest to the point of bluntness, leaving no one in doubt about the direction of her thoughts. This new dimension of Jill Cooper made Noelle wonder how well she’d actually known her sister.

  Thumbing through the pages of the journal, Noelle read sna
tches of words but found little of relevance to their present problem. Until she reached the last few pages.

  “Listen to this, Nathan. It says, ‘I don’t feel I can trust anyone anymore, sometimes not even myself. Dad’s withdrawn when he comes home from the sawmill late at night.’”

  “What kind of trust is she talking about?” Nathan asked.

  Noelle turned another page. “I don’t know. Listen to this. ‘Noelle has started it again. She doesn’t realize what she’s saying, but if anyone listens to her and guesses about her, that could be the end of it. I’ve told her so many times to be careful, and last night I slapped her, hard, when she asked what was wrong. This morning, there was a bruise on the side of her face. I’ve got to be more careful with her.’”

  Noelle’s voice caught. She reread the words, and her fingers, gripping the book, turned white.

  Nathan took the diary out of her hands and continued reading softly. “‘It shut her up. She didn’t even cry. But she wouldn’t look at me the rest of the evening. I hated that, but I’ll do it again if I have to.’” He glanced at Noelle, then back at the page. “‘I don’t have a choice.’”

  Noelle looked down for a long moment. “I’m going to have a talk with Jill.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”

  “I honestly don’t remember the incident. But I’d sure like to know why she wanted to shut me up so badly, because that wasn’t a normal thing for her to do.”

  “You don’t remember? She bruised you and you don’t remember?”

  “Why should I? I was very small and she was a kid trying to do an adult’s job. What’s so bad about that? Don’t forget she’d just lost her mother, too. It was hard on all of us.”

  “Okay, but what were you doing—or rather, saying—that was so bad? Can you remember that?”

  “All I remember is how I kept picking up on strong emotions coming from many different people. It was a horrible time of grief, and I thought I was going crazy. Then, when I told Jill about it, she got mad.”

  “Okay, but I’d like to know why Jill was so interested in keeping you quiet.” He glanced through the last few pages of the diary, closed it, then laid it beside the poem.

  “I’m going back to that attic in the morning,” Noelle said. “I found the accounting records. Someone must have put them up there to get them out of the way. I know there must be identical copies in company files, but Harvey’s would be consolidated.” She stuffed the poem and diary back into her pocket and stood. “I’m going to Jill’s first thing in the morning and confront the family about what happened. I’ll let them all know that we suspect Carissa’s abductor could have been someone close.”

  “You think that’s wise? Won’t we just be warning Carissa’s attacker that we’re getting close?”

  “Yes, but we’ll also be warning the others to watch out for Carissa. She’ll be safer that way.”

  “I’d like to be with you when you tell them. I’m not going through another night like tonight, afraid for your safety and not able to get to you.”

  She smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection. “Nathan.” It felt good to have him worry about her. The more time she spent with him, the less alone she felt.

  “Do you remember when we were kids,” he said, glancing at her hesitantly, “and we went walking up our favorite trail in the national forest after a heavy rain?”

  “I remember lots of times like that.”

  “Right now I’m recalling one special time. Remember that pink crystal we found? The one you carried with you for so long?”

  “I still have it.”

  “We overlooked it for such a long time, thinking it was just another rock because it was covered with dirt, before the rain washed the dirt away.”

  “Rain does that.”

  “I know. Things work that way in life, too. We’ve been through a lot of trouble in our lives, and I can see that, for you, anyway, the struggle has brought changes. There’s something more solid about you, now. You’ve grown so much.”

  Noelle couldn’t prevent the wry twist of her lips. “It’s called cynicism. I’ve seen too many failed lives, including my own.”

  “I know better, Noelle. How can your life be failed when it isn’t over yet?”

  She bit back a grin. “Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to start an argument. What were you saying about that little rock we found?”

  “Not a rock, a gem. I don’t want anything to happen to this new gem we’ve uncovered. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Have we uncovered a new gem?”

  His mouth quirked, and he eyed her with bemusement. “I think so. A beautiful crystal, very rare.”

  Noelle felt a sudden happiness that eclipsed all the horror of the day. She placed the palm of her hand against Nathan’s cheek, her eyes searching his. “Thank you for caring about me.”

  He held her gaze, covering her hand with his. “I do much more than that, Noelle Cooper.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then released her.

  “Time for you to get some sleep,” she said. “I’m taking first watch.”

  Chapter Twenty

  They know something, but how much of the past do they know? I can remember it like it had happened last week. Can they?

  I should have known Nathan and Noelle wouldn’t leave Carissa’s side after yesterday. Why didn’t they say anything about the rope? What are they up to?

  Their silence won’t last long. That’s the only thing I can depend on. I have to keep the secret safe.

  The gray fog of early morning hovered like a protective shield as Noelle crept through the woods toward the creek. She’d better wash off and get back to the house before anyone noticed she was gone.

  She squatted at the creek bank and splashed her hands in the water. In the dim light, she imagined she could see the red spreading, dissolving. There wasn’t really any blood on her hands. She knew that…didn’t she? And yet, when she looked at her hands, she could almost see the crimson stains.

  No one would catch her. No one knew her secret.

  But she knew. She lived with it always, along with the weight of guilt and her helplessness to control herself. The secret dragged at her as she stood to walk back home. How much longer could she live with it?

  “Noelle, you awake? Noelle?”

  Carissa’s whisper reached Noelle at the moment a muscle cramped in her calf. She sat up with a jerk, grabbed her leg and massaged it, blinking into the darkness. Vestiges of her dream pressed at her. She could not shake it.

  “Noelle?” Carissa whispered again.

  “Yes, I’m here.” Noelle took a deep breath and pushed back the lingering impressions of the dream. Outside, dawn touched the sky with bare traces of light.

  Sheets rustled, and Carissa peered over the edge of her bed, her curly brown hair tousled around her face. “Think they’ll send me home today?”

  “I don’t know. How’s your head?”

  “Sore, and I’m not feeling too good.”

  “You’re hoping to stay here another day, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I don’t know, but we’d better plan on it, just in case.” Noelle rubbed her leg again, then swung her feet around and stood. “It’ll be a while before the doctor comes,” she said dryly. “I don’t think Cheyenne or Karah Lee get up before daylight to check patients.”

  Nathan stirred from his cramped position in the recliner beside the window, opened his eyes and stretched. “What’s the deal? Can’t a guy get a little sleep around this place?” He saw Noelle standing beside the bed. He sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Relax, Carissa’s just restless.”

  “Why, Cis? Didn’t you sleep well?”

  Carissa shook her head. “What’s going to happen today? What will happen when I go home? You are staying with me, aren’t you? You’re not going—”

  “Of course we’re staying with you.” Noelle reached out and hugged her cousin. “Nathan and I kn
ow it’s not over.” She glanced at Nathan over the top of Carissa’s curls. She found warmth there and strength. She knew that she could depend on him.

  “What’ll you tell the others?” Carissa asked.

  “The truth,” Nathan said.

  Carissa stiffened. “You can’t.”

  “It’s the only way, Cis,” Noelle said. “I know it’ll be hard for you, but you’re going to have to back us up. You’re going to have to tell them that you think it was someone you know who abducted you. And we’ll have to tell them about the missing rope.”

  “But if we tell everyone about what happened, then—”

  “Then your attacker will know we’re catching on,” Noelle said.

  Carissa frowned, then nodded.

  Noelle took her cousin’s hands and squeezed gently. “Carissa, no more recall yet? No idea what was familiar about your attacker? Was it the voice?”

  “All I can remember are the whispers in the cave from a crazy person, and no one I know talks like that. It was like…well…I just felt something.”

  “The way you felt Justin’s problem?” Nathan asked.

  Carissa frowned at him. “What do you mean? Jill asked me the same thing. How could I feel something like that? Justin just kept making us late for everything all the time, because he’d do weird stuff like wiping the bathroom counter over and over again, and making his bed about fifty million times and checking and rechecking his face in the mirror. I mean, my brother stares at himself in the mirror like he’s in love with himself or something. It’s gross.”

  “Jill said something to you about Justin?” Noelle asked.

  “Yeah, she kept asking me how I knew about Justin’s problem. I mean, duh, was everybody else blind?”

  “Okay, good,” Noelle said. “I’m sorry for pushing you, but if we tell everyone about what happened yesterday, more people will be able to help protect you.”

  “Melva’s going to make a big deal out of it,” Carissa said.

  “Only because she loves you,” Noelle said.

  “Yeah, but she’ll worry, and you know when something’s bugging her, she has to talk about it or she’ll explode.”

 

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