Noelle put her other hand over Nathan’s and squeezed. Everyone at the table was focused on their clasped hands. “Carissa didn’t just have an accident Thursday night,” she said. “Someone chased her into the sawmill. She fell and hit her head, and then her pursuer carried her to Bobcat Cave.”
For a moment, no one seemed to breathe. The color drained from Melva’s face, while Cecil’s expression darkened. Jill froze, holding her coffee mug in midair.
“I’m surprised at you, Cousin,” Cecil drawled. “Carissa has an active imagination. You know that.”
“She didn’t make it up, and she didn’t imagine it,” Noelle said. “Someone pulled the rope from the sinkhole after Nathan and I climbed into the cave.”
Jill caught her breath. “And you’re just now telling us? What about the sheriff? Did you call Greg and let him know what happened?”
“The sheriff’s office knows about it,” Nathan said. “That’s why Greg spent so much time questioning everyone yesterday after we found Carissa.”
“How did you get out of the cave?” Melva asked.
“Nathan had to swim out through a cavern pool,” Noelle said. “Cecil, you remember that whirlpool. We went in there a few times—”
“I remember,” he growled, his temper obviously growing sharper as he realized the danger of the situation.
Melva swallowed audibly. “Somebody really tried to kill Carissa?”
“Not exactly,” Nathan said. “Granted, we could all have died if we hadn’t found another way out of the cave, and if no one had found us, but Carissa wasn’t injured except for the blow to the back of her head, and she admits that’s probably from a fall.”
“But who would take her like that?” Melva asked.
Cecil set his coffee mug on the table with slow deliberation. “Why didn’t Carissa tell me about this?” Again, his voice rumbled with anger, his dark gaze trained on Noelle.
“Because she thought somebody in her own family did it.” Justin didn’t look up from the table. His hands remained busy as he positioned and repositioned his plate, glass and silverware, meticulously measuring the rim of the plate from the edge of the table with his fingers.
Silence filled the room. Noelle watched Justin’s movements, fascinated. She glanced across the table at Jill, who was staring fixedly back at her.
“So who did it?” Justin carefully wiped the moisture from his glass with his napkin.
“We don’t know,” Nathan said. “She didn’t see who it was, but she heard a whispering voice and—” he paused, then went on “—the voice whispered her name. She picked up on something else…some impression or sense of familiarity that she can’t recall. But she suspects the stalker was someone in the family, or a friend or neighbor. She was afraid to tell anyone.”
“Family.” Cecil’s deep voice deepened further with outrage.
Nathan caught and held his gaze. “Yes, someone who knew her.”
“So she didn’t see who it was?” Jill asked.
“If she did, she doesn’t remember it,” Noelle said. “The blow to her head may have caused some short-term memory loss, so even if she did see someone, she’s forgotten.”
“So you two knew all this, and you manipulated our movements at the clinic to keep us from being alone with her?” Deep color was creeping up Cecil’s neck.
“Yes, exactly,” Nathan said. “I’m sorry, but we couldn’t take any chances.”
“No,” Melva said. “You’re wrong. Carissa’s imagining it. She’s got to be.” She turned to Cecil. “Tell her about Justin. Tell her Carissa may have the same—”
“Melva, we know she didn’t imagine it,” Noelle said. “Don’t forget about the rope being taken from the sinkhole. Someone left us there.”
“But maybe that was a mistake,” Melva said. “You know, one of the searchers took the rope. I know that’d be a stupid thing to do, but there were a lot of people in Cedar Hollow, and not all of them understand about hiking around the caves.”
“None of us can afford to go into denial about this, Melva,” Noelle said. “There’s no explaining away the missing rope. If you try, you’re calling Carissa a liar and endangering her further. Next time, she could be killed.”
“Wait a minute,” Jill said slowly. “You’re saying that you honestly believe one of us tried to hurt our own flesh and blood?”
“I don’t want to believe it,” Noelle said.
“How could you?” Jill’s voice trembled with betrayal. “That’s why Cheyenne wouldn’t let me accompany Carissa yesterday? Because she was being…protected from me?”
Noelle heard the accusation. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, but we couldn’t take any chances with Carissa’s life. We didn’t feel we had any choice. And now we’re telling you about it because we need help.”
“What kind of help?” Jill asked. “You want us to help you accuse family?”
Noelle caught her sister’s gaze and held it. “Family or not, do you want to defend someone who abducted Carissa?”
“Just because the abductor called her name doesn’t mean it was one of us,” Melva said.
“Okay, hold it, let’s stop arguing for a minute,” Cecil intervened. Some of the high color had drained from his face. “You’re right, we can’t take a chance with Carissa.”
“So Greg’s actually been investigating us with all those questions he was asking yesterday?” Melva’s voice shook, revealing more concern than her expression showed.
“Good,” Cecil said. “He needs to investigate everyone. It isn’t as if we have something to hide. Who’s with Carissa now?”
“Taylor was with her,” Jill said. “He told me Cheyenne and Blaze were due in shortly. Carissa’s eating breakfast. She’s in safe company.”
“How can you be sure about that?” Melva asked. “Her abductor could’ve been a friend or acquaintance—”
“It was family,” Noelle said softly, with a tremor in her voice she couldn’t stifle. She became more certain of it all the time.
“You can’t say that for sure,” Melva said.
“I can.” From the corner of her eye, Noelle once again caught her sister’s sharp glance.
“How?” Cecil asked.
Noelle looked up and stared into her sister’s eyes. “The same way I knew something bad had happened long before Nathan showed up on my doorstep and told me about Carissa.”
Melva drew in a loud breath.
“When did you know?” Justin asked.
Noelle saw the alarm in Jill’s face, the quick jerk of her head, as if begging Noelle to be silent. “Sometimes there are things I just know. This is one of those times. Nathan calls it a gift.”
“If Noelle hadn’t been drawn to the cave yesterday,” Nathan said, “then Carissa might not be safe at the clinic now.”
“What do you mean, Noelle was drawn to the cave?” Melva asked. “Noelle? Why would you be—”
“I believe Carissa could have stumbled onto some private information that could be damaging to someone,” Noelle said.
Melva looked at her husband, then raised her hand to her mouth in a gesture of distress. “What kind of information would that be?”
“It must be pretty damaging if someone is willing to abduct a twelve-year-old child to protect himself,” Jill said, then glanced at Melva. “Or herself. We sent her to the mill that night to get the ledgers. What did she see?”
“That can’t have a bearing on this situation,” Melva said. “Nothing at all. You’ve got to believe me.” She turned to Noelle. “How can you accuse us of attempted murder?”
“I’m not accusing.” Noelle held her hands up in entreaty. “I’m simply saying that Carissa needs to be protected.”
“Fine, then I’ll be there to protect her,” Melva said, shoving her chair back with unaccustomed force. “I’m going to the clinic. Cecil, are you taking me or do I have to walk?”
“You can wait a minute or two,” Cecil muttered.
Melva
crossed her arms and glared at her husband.
Jill reached for her purse at the end of the breakfast bar. “I’ll take you. We need to talk to Carissa.” She looked tired this morning, every bit of her forty-four years. She slid the purse strap over her shoulder and turned to Noelle. “You want to come with us and play bodyguard?”
The sarcasm in her voice bit sharply. Noelle looked down at the table and shook her head.
“You do know about Justin, don’t you, Noelle?” Melva asked. “About his little problem with—”
“Melva,” Cecil said. “There’s nothing wrong with Justin that a little discipline can’t fix.”
“Oh, stop it!” Melva snapped. “You can’t be so worried about that codicil that you’d allow your own son to suffer without help. It’s gone on long enough.”
“Codicil?” Noelle asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Melva!” Cecil growled.
“The codicil to the Cooper trust,” Melva said, ignoring her husband. “All this talk about the Cooper curse? It isn’t OCD. If you ask me, it’s that hateful codicil, which is just your grandfather’s way of controlling everyone from beyond the grave. Jill, are we going?” She stalked from the room, and after a final look of exasperation at Noelle, Jill followed.
The kitchen descended into tense silence. Noelle glanced up to find Cecil watching her intently, the flush of anger gone from his face.
“What’s Melva talking about?” Noelle asked. “What codicil?”
“Just another deep, dark secret,” Justin said. “Nobody’s ever told me about anything like that.”
“Cecil?”
Her cousin closed his eyes and sighed.
Noelle didn’t press for more. She’d ask later.
With automatic movements, Justin positioned his plate squarely in front of him, set the utensils in precise order from the plate, folded his napkin, then opened it and folded it again. Once more, he turned his plate, checked its distance from the edge of the table. Then repeated the whole ritual again.
Noelle couldn’t stop watching him. His movements indicated a problem far deeper than a preference for order.
This was a torture. No wonder Nathan wanted so badly to help him.
Cecil sighed again and pushed himself from the table. He picked up his coffee mug and pressed it against his lips, sipped, swallowed. He met Noelle’s gaze with a level, steady stare. “I hope you’re wrong about this mess with Carissa.”
“So do I.”
“But you sound pretty positive about it.”
Noelle nodded.
Cecil’s gaze fell on his son. “Justin, you’re coming with me to the clinic.”
Justin stayed where he was, refolding his napkin, repositioning his utensils, as if he hadn’t heard his father.
Cecil shoved the place setting out of his son’s reach, grabbed his arm and pulled him from his chair. Still holding tightly, he walked Justin out the door.
Noelle watched them leave. “What was it you said about OCD?” she murmured to Nathan. “That the victim feels constant worry and guilt about a possible act of violence he might have committed?”
“That’s right. It’s heartbreaking.”
“Justin’s experiencing that worry and guilt.”
“Looks that way to me,” Nathan said.
“Cecil is, too.”
“I can understand. He’s just discovered his daughter was abducted, he didn’t suspect it, it appears someone nearby did it and he wasn’t able to control it. How would you feel?”
“Helpless. We need to keep looking, Nathan. We’re missing something, and I’ve got a feeling we’ll find it if we keep looking.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The cloud cover had lifted overnight, and the fresh smell of rain-washed earth wafted on the breeze in Hideaway. Nathan stepped from the curb in front of the general store, satisfied that the substitute he’d called at the last moment was working out well in the pharmacy. Everything was under control, so he strolled across the street toward his favorite bench, on the lawn five feet from the water’s edge.
Dr. Cheyenne Gideon was making “rounds,” which meant she would spend at least another thirty minutes talking to her two overnight patients, checking them out thoroughly and deciding whether to send them home, keep them or have them transferred to a hospital. Noelle was at the Lakeside Bed and Breakfast, renewing her old friendship with Bertie Meyer and eating a much-needed meal of strawberries and homemade goat’s milk yogurt.
Nathan could use a little solitude and some time to pray. The morning sunlight gleamed across the surface of the lake as he neared the bench. Someone was paddling a canoe across the water, and tiny waves lapped against the wooden dock.
Nathan was just about to settle onto the bench when he heard footsteps in the grass behind him.
“Where is she this time?”
He recognized Jill’s deep alto voice. So much for solitude. He turned to find her frowning at him, blue eyes reflecting the lake, hands on her hips.
Jill’s attractive features were bolder than Noelle’s, and there was a voluptuousness about her that men had always found appealing, which continually inspired some older Hideaway residents to attempt matchmaking between Jill and any available male at every opportunity. To Nathan, she’d always been Noelle’s older sister, ever the disciplinarian. Today, however, there was an air about Jill that suggested vulnerability.
“She’s finally agreed to have some breakfast,” he answered quietly. “She’s at Bertie’s. Has Cheyenne released Carissa?”
“She wants to keep her around a few more hours. Did you convince her to do that?”
“Me?” He gestured for Jill to have a seat on the bench. “Cheyenne’s the doctor.”
Jill glanced at the bench but didn’t sit. Instead, she paced to the water’s edge, arms crossed over her chest. “I know you and Noelle didn’t mean to hurt anyone with your announcement this morning, but I wish you could have handled this whole thing differently. Melva’s still in tears, Cecil is morose, and Justin can’t sit still. Cecil has decided to stay at the clinic with Carissa for a couple of hours, and would you believe Cheyenne’s insisting he can’t stay there by himself? It’s like he needs a chaperone to keep his own daughter company. Believe me, it isn’t going over well.”
“What would you do differently?” Nathan asked, and was dismayed by the irritation in his voice. He blamed it on sleep deprivation. Though he’d slept a few hours in the recliner, it had been an uneasy rest, and combined with lack of sleep the night before, he knew he’d need to watch his temper.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t tell us yesterday about what happened, even if you didn’t feel it was possible to tell us about your suspicions.”
“I’m sorry.” He injected a note of gentleness into his voice. She was obviously wounded. He would be, too, if one of his sisters suspected him of abducting a child.
“And would you please not encourage Noelle to exercise her intuitive ability? It’s wrong, and it’s dangerous.”
“Wrong?”
“The Bible specifically warns against witchcraft or conjuring spirits.”
“Jill, this isn’t witchcraft, and it isn’t something she’s conjuring. Just as she said, I believe it’s a gift from God. I wondered about it myself, until I checked her gift against Scripture. It’s biblical, and she wouldn’t have found Carissa without His direction.”
“We can’t know that.”
“Carissa was drowning when we found her,” he said softly. “A few minutes later and we would have been too late.”
Jill closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. You’re right, it would have been horrible if you hadn’t been there for Carissa when you were, but she’s safe now, and Noelle needs to get away from here for a while. She also needs to stop blabbing to everyone about this ‘gift.’”
“You try telling her to leave.”
“She won’t listen to me.”
“And
she will to me? You know better than that. You’re doing it again, Jill. Stop trying to be her mommy and try just to be her sister. She isn’t a needy child anymore. What she needs now is to know the truth about what’s going on around here, particularly with the family business.”
“For instance?”
“What were you and Cecil and Melva arguing about this morning when we arrived at your house? What’s this codicil to the trust? And I still don’t understand why Justin’s crisis with OCD is being treated like some big, horrible secret that must be kept at the cost of Justin’s quality of life.”
A tour bus pulled up at the curb in a wave of heat and diesel fumes. Jill watched as the doors opened to let off passengers. She sighed and strolled toward one of several gazebos that dotted the lawn between the street and the dock.
Nathan followed her, controlling his frustration at her reticence.
“Aren’t we getting off the subject?” she asked. “I thought you and Noelle wanted to find out what happened to Carissa so it doesn’t happen again.”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing. That’s why we need to know these things. Noelle’s already called her partner to watch the store, so you’re not getting her out of Hideaway until she has some answers.”
Jill grunted and nodded. “She’s impossible.”
“She takes after you. And since she isn’t leaving, won’t you give us something to go on?”
“I don’t have anything you need.”
“You can’t know that. For instance, Noelle needs to recall some of those things you tried to bully her into forgetting when she was a child.”
Jill’s steps faltered. She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan.
“She found an old journal upstairs in the house where you grew up,” he explained. “In it you wrote about slapping her so hard you bruised her face.”
Jill’s features twisted. She raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Nathan, no. She read that?”
“She only wants to know why you did it. She loves you, Jill. She knows how much you gave up for her, but it’s important for her to know why you did what you did.”
“But why do you and Noelle have to stir everything up now?”
Last Resort Page 19
