Hope and Honor

by Marilee Brothers

  “No, I was going to call him today. But, listen, Mel. There’s no positive ID yet. Maybe it’s not him. If the road’s closed, there’s no way he can get to town.”

  I want to believe her, but my heart tells me Jake’s soul has flown away. “He would have called. His phone goes right to voice mail.”

  “Maybe Billy can get more information.”

  I promise to keep her in the loop and punch in Billy’s number. It too goes to voice mail. I leave a message asking him to call me as soon as possible.

  Anxiety and worry are my constant companions for the rest of the journey home. To my relief, Mick has not yet arrived. Mick could get the information I need, but then I’ll have to tell him the rest of the story. When he discovers I was heading to New Dawn by myself, he’ll be ticked off. Remember when I promised one of the Rathjens would be with me? Breaking my promise would surely kick him into his frowny-faced, disapproving, I-know-better-than-you mode.

  I make coffee and pace the floor. The waiting becomes unbearable. I decide to go in search of Billy. Just as I jump into the car, he calls.

  “In a meeting. Phone was off. What’s up, Minnie?”

  Without actually revealing I was on my way to New Dawn—he’s kind of hyper protective as well—I tell him I heard there was an accident and could he please find out the name of the person killed.

  He’s quiet for a long moment. “I assume you have a good reason for wanting to know.”

  I assure him I do. “And could you please find out if he was by himself?”

  “I heard you’ve been going up to New Dawn. Kendra told me about the kids.”

  Of course she did. Kendra has always confided in her brother, especially when it comes to their mutual acquaintance, moi.

  Since I’m already busted, I give him the edited version of today. “The kids’ dad, Jake, called this morning, said he needed to see me about something important. He never showed up and didn’t answer his phone. Then, I heard there was an accident and somebody was killed.”

  Billy’s sigh is rife with irritation as it bounces off the cell towers and into my ear. “Minnie Mouse. I know you’re not telling me the whole story. But, if this is important to you, I know a state patrol guy who probably knows what’s going on. Are you at home?”

  I exit the car. “Yes.”

  “I’ll stop by later.”

  Now I have a dilemma. Mick is on his way. In all likelihood, he’ll be here when Billy stops by and Mel will be busted all over again. I want to tell Billy he doesn’t have to deliver the info in person. But he’s doing me a solid and it would be incredibly crass to say, You don’t have to come over, just call me. Instead, I say, “Thanks, Billy. I owe you.”

  Oops, just remembered what happened the last time I said those words.

  He chuckles. “Good, now I’m motivated.”

  Mick shows up shortly after. He’s in business attire. Suit and tie. I’ve never seen him dressed thusly and it throws me off my game. I stiffen in his embrace like he’s a stranger.

  He says, “Something wrong?”

  I push away and give him a thorough visual examination. “Why the change in wardrobe? You don’t look like the Mick I know.”

  “Gotta dress for the part.”

  “And, the part is,,, ?”

  “Administrative.”

  “So, you’re not in the field anymore?”

  He hedges. “Mostly no, but who knows? I might miss it and want to get involved.”

  There’s no maybe about it. He’d miss the action like he’d miss oxygen if he couldn’t breathe.

  I take his hand. “Mick, I have a lot going on right now. I can’t move to Boston with you. Please try to understand.”

  I gaze into his eyes, see a cloud drift across his extraordinary blue soul and I’m swamped with sadness and regret. I’m the source of his pain and he doesn’t deserve it. I lean in and wrap my arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Mick. I can’t do it. Please forgive me.”

  He leans down and presses his cheek against mine. “Nothing to forgive. It’s the answer I expected. It’s just that you are so special. I can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

  Tears spill from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. “Can’t we still be in each other’s life? Maybe not romantically, but as friends?”

  His expression hardens. “Not sure. Maybe.”

  We’re still locked in an embrace when Billy rolls up on his bike.

  I swipe my eyes and whisper, “It’s Billy. I called him about something that happened today. It has to do with New Dawn and you’re not going to like it.”

  He grips my shoulders and stares into my eyes. His gaze is steely. “You’re involved?”

  “Yes. It’s the twins. I can’t walk away.”

  He opens the door and steps through as Billy approaches. They exchange a few words. I’m not close enough to hear, but Mick maintains a steady course to his car.

  I stand in my front yard, my heart aching as I watch him walk away. He didn’t even say goodbye. When he gets to his car, he stops and turns.

  Needing something more, I run after him. “Don’t leave like this, Mick.”

  He takes a couple of steps closer and then stops. “If I had a ring to offer you, would it make a difference?”

  I don’t even hesitate. “No, of course not. It’s not just the twins. It’s my family, my friends, my job. I can’t leave it all behind. Try to understand.”

  He nods and smiles. “I do understand. Your loyalty is like nothing I have ever seen. Goodbye, my maylsh. You will always be in my thoughts.”

  He holds out his arms. I step into his familiar embrace, wrap my arms around his body and breathe in his familiar scent, reminiscent of fresh air and crystal clear waters. He drops a kiss on the top of my head and gently pushes me away.

  Tears streaming down my cheeks, I watch until the car disappears from sight. I take a couple of shuddering breaths and swipe away tears with my sweatshirt sleeve. Determined not to look like a basket case, I re-enter the house and find Billy standing at the window.

  “Looks like goodbye,” he says. “You’re not going with him?”

  Not trusting my voice, I shake my head.

  He holds out his arms. “Need a hug?”

  I walk past him and sit on the couch. “Rain check.”

  He takes the chair opposite me and studies my face. “The name Jake Gunderson mean anything to you?”

  At that moment, I know the intuitive feeling I sensed earlier is right. Jake’s soul has flown. “He’s the New Dawn guy who was giving me shooting lessons. I think you’re here to tell me he’s dead.”

  “He missed a hairpin turn and landed in a ravine. It took a while for the guys to get to the wreckage, but Gunderson probably died on impact.”

  Now, the question I’m almost afraid to ask. “Was he alone?”

  “They only found one body.”

  I don’t like the answer. “Does that mean there could be more?”

  Billy rises, crosses the room and sits next to me. “Maybe you’d better tell me the whole story. Start at the beginning.”

  I let it all pour out. How I said I’d never return to New Dawn. How I changed my mind after meeting the twins. How I embarked on shooting lessons I had no interest in because of them. I ended by sharing my concerns about Jake. “He was in trouble and worried about the kids. He asked if I’d look after them for a while.”

  Billy listened without interruption but his expressions were easy to read. Puzzlement. Disapproval. Amusement when I mention the twelve golden rules of gun safety.

  When I finish, Billy says, “So, you’re afraid the kids were with him.”

  “Yes.”

  “I really doubt it, Minnie. Unless they were pinned under the truck…” He stops when he sees me wince. “There was no mention of other, um, victims, so put that thought out of your mind.”

  “You’ll let me now if you hear anything more?”

  “Of course.”

  “What next?
”

  “Not sure, but I’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Before Billie leaves, he promises to look into the whole New Dawn situation, see if there’s any scuttlebutt about criminal activities. He adds, “I’d tell you not to go there, but we both know I’d be wasting my breath. Anyway, looks like you’re stuck until the road opens up. Do me a favor and let me know what you’re up to. Okay?”

  Like a little kid, I cross the fingers of my right hand, deep in my jeans pocket and say, “Okay.”

  With a rueful smile, he shakes his head in disbelief. “Sure you will, Minnie. Try to stay out of trouble. I’ll be in touch.”

  Not sure what to do next, I resume pacing. What will become of Kimber and Gunner? Their mother is dead, their father unknown and now their primary caregiver, Jake, is dead. I know what I have to do. As much as I loathe the idea, I have to cozy up to Ken Hitchcock. First, I have to figure out how to reach him. Then, I remember how the hillside behind the compound bristled with satellite dishes and a cell tower. I don’t have Hitchcock’s cell number, but I maybe their manufacturing business has a website.

  I fire up my laptop and Google New Dawn and window blinds. Sure enough, their website for custom window coverings pops up, complete with phone number.

  I’m greeted by a recording. “You have reached New Dawn Custom Blinds. Currently, we are unable to take your call. Please leave your name and contact number and we will get back to you shortly.”

  Surprisingly, there’s no option to be put on interminable hold and wait for the next available representative.

  I dither for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get a response and decide to go for the truth. After leaving my contact information, I add, “Please have Ken Hitchcock call me. I heard about the accident involving Jake Gunderson and have some questions. Thank you.”

  It’s highly unlikely I’ll hear from Hitchcock soon. As the head honcho at New Dawn, he’s probably up to his eyebrows in red tape. I can’t sit still. My brain is buzzing, overloaded with worry and confusion. In addition to my concern about the twins, I’m trying not to think about the sadness in Mick’s soul as he left.

  I have a couple of choices. Phone my mother? Check and see if the road’s open. If it is, call Uncle Paco and ask him to drive me up to New Dawn. Pig out on junk food. Clean the house.

  Sandra? No. Option two is out when I look online and find out the road is still blocked. I’m leaning toward option three until I discover only a few crumbs remain in the potato chip bag. Option four it is.

  Thirty minutes later, the carpet is vacuumed, the furniture is dusted and the kitchen floor is so clean, if a piece of food were to land upon it, the five-second rule wouldn’t apply.

  I’m still at loose ends and need another project. Why not Ziggy?

  I call Nick. “Is Ziggy working her shift?”

  “Nah, she said her butt hurt from horseback riding, so I gave her some time off.”

  “Damn it, Nick.” I can’t keep the irritation from my voice. “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard. She needs to be busy. You’re too easy on her.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s too late now.”

  “What do you mean, it’s too late,” I say. “Where is she?”

  “She went to meet some friends from school. I dropped her off at Mojo’s. I told her to be back by eight.”

  Mojo’s again. Where Billy saw her with a creepy older dude.

  “When did you drop her off?”

  “Half hour ago.”

  “Mind if I check on her?”

  “Hell no. I’ll be eternally grateful.”

  If I’d arrived at Mojo’s a minute or two later, I would have had missed her. As I pull into the parking lot, I see her push through the door, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s closely followed by a guy I presume to be Paul Moen. I scramble out of the car and plant my body directly in their path.

  A look of panic flashes across Ziggy’s face. She’s ready to bolt.

  The man places a steadying hand on her shoulder. His eyes are dark and set a little too close together. His gaze sweeps over me in a dismissive glance. “Is this the little twerp you were telling me about, Ziggy?”

  Though the term little twerp frosts my cookies, I ignore the slight because I have an agenda. I smile and step closer. “Yes, that would be me.” I extend my right hand. “And, you are…?

  He has to release Ziggy to shake my hand. She shrinks back, unwilling to meet my gaze.

  He squeezes my hand a little harder than necessary. “I’m Paul.”

  No business attire today. A veritable poster boy for the expensive weekend casual look, he’s rocking faded jeans and a black cashmere sweater over a buttoned down blue collared shirt. His high top running shoes are probably worth a couple hundred bucks. Black hair, combed straight back and glistening with gel completes the image.

  I beam at him like a clueless idiot and stare into his soul. “Nice to meet you. Ziggy’s dad asked me to pick her up. Were you giving her a ride home?”

  “Of course,” he says. “Where else would I take her?”

  It’s easy to spot the lie as it flashes across his smoky gray soul. A heavy black border and ice blue blotches tells me he’s cold, calculating, and self-centered. A pulsing red blotch bounces around his soul like a Ping-Pong ball on speed. He’s not only evil, he’s angry. It’s probably safe to assume it’s currently directed at me.

  I shrug. “Just asking. Let’s go, Ziggy.”

  She plucks at his sleeve and whines, “I don’t want to go with her.”

  Paul lifts his hands in a helpless gesture. “She doesn’t want to go with you.”

  I lose the smile and pull out my cell phone. “How about this, Paul. Since Ziggy is only sixteen, let’s call her dad and let him decide who takes her home.”

  His eyes narrow and he steps into my personal space. I hold my ground. “She’s all yours. Just remember, kids sometimes rebel against control freak parents.”

  I almost laugh. No way do the words control freak describe Ziggy’s father. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Paul pivots on his pricey shoes and strides away. He uses a fob to unlock a shiny, black Mercedes-Benz. Ziggy, looking forlorn, watches him drive away. She glances over at me. I figure she’s getting ready to take off like a gut shot gazelle.

  I step close and grasp her arm. “Don’t do it. I can run faster than you. I can also do a leg sweep. Trust me, you don’t want to kiss the asphalt and mess up your pretty face.”

  She pulls free but makes no attempt to escape. “You’re such a jerk, Mel. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  I ignore the question and lead her to the car. She opens the passenger door and angrily flings her backpack onto the floorboard. Only partially zipped, some of the contents fly out. I spot a plastic baggy of pills and snag it before she can. I stuff into my pocket and start the car. Ziggy climbs in, turns her back to me and stares out the window.

  “Did Paul give you the pills?”

  “They’re birth control pills.”

  “Oh, please. You think I don’t know what birth control pills look like?”

  She shoots me a hateful glance. “What with all the guys you screw, of course you do.”

  I don’t take the bait. “Unfortunately for you, this isn’t about me.”

  I pull out of the parking lot, afraid if we aren’t moving, I’ll be chasing her through the streets of downtown 3 Peaks.

  We ride in silence for a while. Finally, I say, “Isn’t Paul a little out of your age range?”

  She turns to face me, tears welling up in her eyes. “He listens. He’s nice to me. He doesn’t judge me.”

  “And, he gives you stuff, like the diamond bracelet.”

  When she starts to argue, I hold up a hand. “Stop lying. I know your mother didn’t send it to you.”

  She swipes at her eyes. “So, you’re checking my mail now?”

  “I talked to your dad. He gets the mail. Your mom hasn
’t sent you anything since you got here.”

  I ask again. “Did Paul give you the pills?”

  She averts her eyes. “No!”

  Even though I can’t see into her soul, her body language pretty much tells me she’s lying. Again.

  We pull into Nick’s parking lot. I put a hand on her arm. She shrugs it off and reaches for the door handle.

  “So Paul listens to you?” I say. “Try talking to your dad. Maybe he doesn’t know the right words, but he wants what’s best for you.”

  “Oh, we talk, if you can call it that. He says, ‘Did you do your homework?’ I say, ‘Yeah.’ He says, ‘I’m going to the store. Do you need any, um, feminine products?’ I say, ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Then, we have nothing more to say, because, guess what? We don’t really know each other.” She grabs her backpack, exits the car and slams the door.

  I don’t follow her in, but punch in Nick’s number. “Ziggy’s heading your way. She was with the guy I told you about. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I don’t mention the pills. Best to find out what they are first.

  As I pull into my driveway, my phone rings. It’s Ken Hitchcock.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “So you heard about Jake,” he growls.

  “Yes.”

  “I understand he called you earlier today.”

  The statement knocks me back on my heels. In our phone call, Jake sounded panicky, like he had to get away from New Dawn. I assumed it was top secret and had something to do with Hitchcock. So, if he knows about Jake’s conversation with me, what else does he know? I proceed carefully. “Yes.”

  After a long silence, Hitchcock asks, “Did he tell you the reason for his visit?”

  “Not specifically. Did he tell you the reason for his visit?”

  After a mirthless chuckle, he says, “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Quite the opposite.”

  “Then, stop playing games with me. I know and, I’m sure you know, Jake has grown increasingly unhappy at New Dawn. Sound familiar?”

  “Possibly.”

  Finally, he says, “Do you have questions about his death?”