Could spring in the country work its magic on him? Could he shake off the cold that had lodged itself in his soul?
He took a deep breath of fresh air. The clean scent of pine flushed the smell of the city from his nose. Birds tweeted. Wind rustled leaves. Danny closed his eyes and gave himself over to the peaceful sounds and smells. Something small scurried through the underbrush. Things were alive all around him. The wilderness was more subtle than the sounds of traffic and people that signaled life at home. For a city dweller, the woods were strangely soothing. But then, northern Maine was the polar opposite of Iraq. Not even the memory of December’s tragedy could taint the peace of the forest.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood on the front stoop, but by the time he turned to go inside, the house was encased in the shadows of the surrounding woods. Even in a blackout, the city was never this dark. There were always headlights and billboards and other signs of humanity. Next time he went out, he’d be sure to leave on a light or ten to keep the night at bay.
He thought back to Mandy’s expression as he’d asked her if she slept. She deliberately hadn’t answered him, and the shadows under her eyes suggested long-term sleep deprivation. Danny knew it well. As soon as he’d mentioned the case, she’d gone on evasive maneuvers.
What else was she hiding?
Shaking off the thought, Danny grabbed his bag from his trunk. He pulled the utility knife from his pocket and opened the glove compartment to put it away. His hand stopped halfway there. He put the knife back in his pocket. Better safe than sorry.
He took his stuff inside. All modern glass and hardwood, the house was much nicer digs than the apartment he shared with his older brother, Conor. But the whole minimalist design didn’t appeal. Danny liked his houses old and broken-in.
Reed had wanted a totally fresh start with Jayne and was selling the house furnished. At the end of a short hallway, Danny found the master bedroom. He threw a set of old linens on the bed and stowed his shaving kit and a couple of towels in the adjoining bath. His duffel bag went on the dresser.
All unpacked. He was a live-out-of-the-suitcase kind of guy.
The unexpected encounter with the real estate agent had left him edgy. He paced through the house, checking exits and locks and possible escape routes by habit. The laundry-room window was unlocked. Danny secured it. Gotta love one-story dwellings. Every window was a door.
He meandered into the kitchen. Sleek and shiny, with top-of-the-line everything, the room had a commercial, sterile feel. The coldness was exacerbated by the emptiness of the space. Good thing Danny didn’t have any intention of cooking. He plugged the fridge in to chill overnight before he bought groceries beyond coffee and cake.
He stared out the window at the thick forest. Four months ago his sister, Jayne, had stopped at Reed’s place and gone on to the Black Bear Inn. Soon after, she’d been abducted. Could Danny flush the crazy ass out of hiding by retracing his sister’s movements?
He could only hope.
Danny fingered the knife in his pocket. There was only one way to make sure she was safe. Kill the killer.
“What’s wrong?”
Mandy looked up at her brother, Bill, staring at her from the porch. He was holding something behind his back. “Nothing. Just thinking.” She shoved the note in the middle of the junk mail.
“You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?” Bill’s eyes were worried.
Mandy put on her happy face and headed up the walk. Bill didn’t know much about what had happened in December. He had enough anxiety issues. “Positive. Where’s Jed?”
“Inside, putting stuff away.” Bill’s face lit up. He brought his hidden arm around with dramatic flourish. In his hand was a pot of pansies. Purple-and-white flowers nestled in a round terra-cotta container. “I brought you these.”
“Those are beautiful. Thank you.”
Bill beamed. “I know you love flowers, especially the kind you can plant, not the kind that die.”
“I certainly do.” She jogged up onto the wide porch and stood on her toes to give him a quick hug. On the covered porch, she flipped her hood off her head and took the flowers from him. His empty hand trailed down to rest on the elegant head of the yellow lab standing at his side. “Did you have fun with Jed?”
“Oh, yeah.” Under a mop of freshly trimmed hair, Bill flashed a lopsided grin. Though six foot four and thirty years old, her brother had the intellectual and emotional maturity of a child. Jed’s dog, Honey, rubbed her head on Bill’s leg. “Honey came with us, and after we got our hair cut, we picked up burgers on the way home. I’m going inside to eat mine.” He opened the front door and held it for the dog. The edge of a long scar, whitened with age, showed just behind his ear.
As Bill went in, Jed Garrett, Mandy’s best friend since first grade, stepped out. Formerly lean and fit from a lifetime of outdoor activity, the hunting guide’s new buzz cut emphasized that his face had thinned to the point of gauntness. Several rounds of surgery had debilitated Jed for months. Though mostly healed from the horrific injury, his body hadn’t recovered 100 percent. Mandy wondered if he’d ever be the same. More guilt piled onto Mandy’s conscience. Jed had suffered a knife wound in her defense.
“Thanks for taking him.” There were few people who could manage her brother’s anxiety. Jed had been hanging around the family so long, he was like a brother, and he hadn’t put down his own handgun since he’d been released from the hospital.
“No problem. He never gets upset if Honey goes along.” Jed squinted at the ladder still propped against the house. “What’s with the ladder?”
“The gutter was clogged.”
“You didn’t climb up there by yourself?”
Mandy lifted her chin. “I certainly did. Just because I’m small and female doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”
“I never said you were. Doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself.” Jed scraped a hand through the half inch of hair he had left. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you so bossy?”
Jed’s lips thinned. “Think about this. Your family needs you. God forbid something happens to your mother, you’re the only person Bill has in this world.”
Mandy’s eyes burned. She looked away as pressure built in her chest. He was right. Like it or not, Bill was her responsibility. Forever.
“You should let Bill do more around this place.” Jed frowned at her. “He’s not helpless either.”
An engine rumbled. Jed and Mandy turned in unison to watch Danny’s old car turn from the driveway onto the street. The top was up, but the driver was visible.
“Is that who I think it is?” Jed gaped at the car.
“Yes.” Mandy turned. “He stopped in a little while ago.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“Of course. Arguing with you distracted me.” Mandy crossed her arms over her chest, clutching the mail closer. “I’m surprised you recognized him.”
“There are things about that night I’ll never forget.” Still staring down the street, Jed absently rubbed his belly. “Why is he here?”
“Something is up with the case.”
“Like what?” Jed’s eyes snapped back. He paled. Since coming home from the hospital, he rarely mentioned the assault or his injury. Did he sleep at night?
“He didn’t say anything specific.”
“Didn’t you ask?”
“I was so shocked to see him, I couldn’t think straight.”
Jed nodded, as if he understood her reaction. Not prone to excessive conversation, he was quiet in a way that made people underestimate him. But Jed could read people as well as a trail. “Did he say anything?”
“Not really. He wanted to know what I knew. He’s meeting with the detective tomorrow.”
“The cop said Nathan was probably long gone, maybe even dead.” Jed looked out into the rain. “But if anybody could survive the winter out there, it’d be Nathan. I worry about him coming back for you, especially now th
at the snow’s gone and it’s easier to move around in the woods.”
Mandy worried, too, but Jed didn’t need her paranoia on top of his own. “Why would he do that when he could be hundreds of miles from here?”
Jed turned to Mandy. His jaw muscles tightened, and resolve replaced the surprise on his face. “I never liked the way he looked at you. I know you worked for him for a couple of years, but he didn’t treat you exactly like an employee. Are you sure you don’t want me to move in here, at least temporarily?”
Mandy shuddered, and fear clenched her belly as tightly as she gripped the mail. Jed didn’t know, did he? No, Jed would never be able to keep that knowledge to himself. He’d be furious, and she’d never hear the end of it.
She was tempted to let him stay. But Jed went overboard on everything that involved her. If she let him move in, he’d take over. And what if there were more notes? How would she keep them from him? She hugged the mail closer. “It’s been four months. If he were going to come after me, why wait that long?”
And why send a second note four months later? She’d kept her mouth shut. Was it a coincidence that Danny and the threat arrived on the same day?
Jed scratched his chin. “I don’t know. Crazy folks do crazy shit.”
“The inn is in the middle of town. Not the ideal location for a kidnapping,” Mandy reasoned, covering the doubt in her mind. Someone put the note in her mailbox. If not Nathan, then who? And why?
“Are you forgetting that a kidnapping took place right on your front lawn in December?”
Mandy patted the gun on her hip. “No one was expecting it then. I won’t let my guard down. I’ll be fine here. You have your dogs to take care of, Jed.”
“You don’t think I’d put you before my dogs?”
“I didn’t mean that.” An ache pulsed in Mandy’s temples.
“Never mind. I guess I’ll go take care of my dogs.” He brushed past her. “I’ll put the ladder in the garage on my way out.”
Mandy stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The muscles under her fingers tensed. “I can get that later.”
Jed yanked his arm away and glared at her. “Mandy, I’m fine. Stop trying to protect me. I’ll never get back to normal if I don’t act normal.” He stomped down the steps and yelled over his shoulder, “I’m not your brother.”
Mandy didn’t miss the wince as he lifted the ladder under one arm. Which was all her fault. Everything was her fault. She couldn’t do anything right lately.
Jed whistled. Nothing. He opened the door and called, “Honey, come.”
With a jingle of dog tags, Honey trotted obediently to the front door. But her head was low and her tail wasn’t wagging as they disappeared around the side of the house. Twilight descended on the yard. Lengthening shadows chased Mandy inside. She needed to make dinner for her mother and finish the breakfast prep.
She turned toward the family quarters and her room, acutely aware of the note hidden in the mail. Every rustle of paper amplified her guilt. The Tell-Tale Heart had nothing on her conscience.
With the door safely closed behind her, she lifted her mattress and pulled out a matching envelope. Two pages slid out. On top was a picture of a picture of Bill on the front lawn of the inn. A hole had been punched in the center of his chest. Block letters were scrawled across the snowy foot of the page. If you love him. The second photo was her and Nathan locked in a passionate embrace in the alley behind the diner. It read: keep your secrets.
She stashed both threats back in their envelopes and stuffed them under the mattress. Someone was watching her. It couldn’t be Nathan. He certainly hadn’t taken the picture of them, and the first note had come the morning after the attack. Huntsville had been crawling with police. There was no way Nathan had sneaked into the inn in broad daylight. But Mandy didn’t know of anyone close enough to him to take that kind of risk. Nathan’s only family were his uncle and son. Suffering from a progressive and debilitating genetic brain disease, his uncle and coconspirator had killed himself rather than be caught, and Nathan had taken his son with him.
Had the new note been put in the mailbox before or after Danny’s visit? Before would mean an awfully big coincidence. If it had been after, then whoever was threatening her was close by. Turmoil gathered behind Mandy’s breastbone. The pressure shortened her breaths.
She could call the police. But what would that accomplish? Despite police presence in December, her tormentor had waltzed right into the inn—right into Mandy’s bedroom. The police hadn’t been able to catch Nathan over the course of an entire winter. The only thing telling them about the note would accomplish was putting her brother in danger. No. She couldn’t take any risks with Bill’s life. For now, she would do exactly what she was told. She would keep her mouth shut about Nathan. But she’d keep her eyes open around town.
Someone besides Mandy had a secret.
What would Danny learn tomorrow? Had the police uncovered any new leads on the case since last week? She pressed a hand between her breasts, where her heart rapped against her sternum. The detective didn’t know as much about Nathan as Mandy did.
She was the one who’d slept with the killer.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mandy blinked sleep-heavy eyelids and stared across the dark bedroom. The sudden surge of blood and the prickling of her senses sharpened her focus. Shadows shifted on the hardwood. Just branches moving outside. Sweating under the heavy comforter, she flung off the covers and padded barefoot across the floor. She undressed, then tossed her flannel pajamas into the hamper and pulled out a pair of cozy yoga pants and an oversize hoodie. The chill swept across her damp skin. She tugged her clothes on.
Crossing to the window, she stopped behind the curtain and peered around it. Outside, the clouds had dissipated, and the sky was dotted with stars. Moonlight flooded the yard. Tree branches and their shadows shifted in the wind at the rear of the property.
Her gaze searched the yard. Anything could hide out there.
Mandy shivered. The tingle on the back of her neck that had woken her drifted down her spine. Eyes. She could feel them on her through the glass. Was someone watching her, or was her imagination working overtime thanks to Danny Sullivan’s suggestion? She pulled away from the window. Returning to the bed, she reached between the headboard and the mattress and slid her gun from the holster she’d secured there.
She grabbed a pair of thick socks from her drawer and tugged them on. Treading softly, she emerged from the family quarters and checked the windows and doors on the first floor. All was secure. She put her weapon in the front pocket of her hoodie.
In the kitchen, she bypassed the light switch and stared out into the moonlit yard. The wind kicked up, blowing against the glass. The inn creaked like old bones. Empty and cold, Mandy filled the kettle and set it on the stove with shaky hands. There was no way she was going back to bed tonight. A few more hours of sleep wasn’t worth the risk of a return visit from her nightmare.
She scooped loose green tea into a mesh ball and dropped it into a china pot. Steam, fragrant with jasmine, rose as she poured the hot water. Leaving the tea to steep, she closed the blinds, shutting out the memories and the darkness that sparked them.
She needed Danny and his curiosity to stay away. Nathan couldn’t be out there. No way. Anger slid over her, warm as a blanket. Despite Nathan’s illness, she had no room for pity. Nathan had stabbed her best friend. He’d lied to her, killed two other people, and put her family at risk. If he showed up at the inn, she’d put him down like a rabid animal.
Unless he killed her first.
Sacrifice and survival were inseparable. In order for life to continue, something had to die, and Kevin sincerely hoped a nice fat trout gave itself up for breakfast. That wasn’t looking likely, though. In previous years, this section of the Long River had been in no particular rush. The waterway meandered through the Maine forest and spilled out into Lake Walker about a hundred yards downstream. But this week, while not white water, re
cent storms swelled its banks, and the current was likely stronger than the surface indicated.
He glanced over at his ten-year-old son. Twenty feet away, just far enough that they wouldn’t hook each other when casting, Hunter held his fly rod over the riverbank.
“Not too close to the edge, Hunter.”
“OK, Dad.” Drawing his rod back to cast, Hunter answered without turning away from his task. Under his dark-blue Yankees cap, the boy’s freckled face was locked deep in concentration. His tongue poked out between his front teeth. The line flowed back and forth smoothly and sailed out over the water.
Pride swelled in Kevin’s chest. Teaching his son to connect with his primitive self on their annual fishing trip always put Kevin in a philosophical mood. Even on a windy morning, it sure beat sitting in his cubicle at the insurance company headquarters in New Jersey. He loved his wife and daughters immensely, but this manly-man time alone with his boy was precious.
Kevin let out a foot of line and whisked his arm back over his shoulder. With a gentle forward movement, he cast the rod toward the river. The fly soared, and he laid the line down on the water with one smooth motion. The bug touched down with a gentle plop.
“Man, you’re good at that.”
Kevin looked over his shoulder. His brother, Tony, emerged from the woods. He crossed the strip of weeds to the riverbank.
“When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.” Kevin was not telling Tony how many hours he practiced casting in his backyard. Fly-fishing lessons, two hundred dollars. Besting his younger brother? Priceless.
“Morning, Uncle Tony,” Hunter said with a happy grin.
“Morning, Little Man,” Tony answered, scratching his belly through his sweatshirt. He tucked his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and hunched his shoulders against the chill. April nights were still cold this far north, and the wind that had blown the rains away overnight persisted.
After a quick check to make sure Hunter wasn’t any closer to the water’s edge, Kevin turned his attention back to his line. Keeping the tip of the rod down, he lifted the line from the water.
Midnight Sacrifice Page 3
