Adam turned on his flashlight and shone it down toward the water.
The beam wasn’t bright enough to penetrate all the way down to the bank, but it got the person’s attention. Instead of running away, he turned on a spotlight and directed the beam up to the very window where they stood.
* * *
“DAMN.” ADAM TURNED OFF his flashlight and motioned for Nikki to move back from the window.
She eased into the shadows as her breath quickened. “What do you think he’s doing?”
“No idea.” Adam kept to the side of the window as he glanced out. “But that’s a powerful light to lug around for some random weirdo looking for a death scene.”
His face looked suddenly threatening in the moonlight and his whole body seemed to tense. Nikki had worked closely with law enforcement her entire career. She was in her element around most cops, but there was something about Adam Thayer that continued to unnerve her. It wasn’t just the fact that she couldn’t place him or even the way he looked at her. The man obviously had secrets. What had really happened to him in Dallas and why was Tom Brannon so suspicious of that shooting? Was he that protective of his sister or had he picked up the same uneasy vibe that now trickled down Nikki’s backbone, forming an icy knot at the base of her spine?
She said nervously, “People use spotlights all the time on the lake. Sometimes logs float just beneath the surface. Not to mention all the other hidden debris in the water that can bend a prop or puncture a fiberglass hull.”
“As you pointed out, he’s not in a boat.” Adam left the window and crossed the room to check the hallway.
Nikki turned to track him. “What are you doing? Did you hear something?”
“No. Just making sure.” He glanced both ways down the corridor before turning back into the room.
Nikki watched him in the moonlight. That sense of fate kept tugging, making her self-conscious of his nearness and too hypersensitive to the doubts that Tom Brannon had voiced about him earlier.
“Maybe he’s waiting for a drug deal to go down,” she said in a hushed voice. “There’s a big meth and fentanyl problem in this county.” The spotlight went off and the room once again fell into darkness. Adam eased back up to the window. Nikki moved to the other side. “Can you still see him?”
“No. He may have taken off when he realized he wasn’t alone.”
She peered out into the darkness. “You don’t think he’d come up here, do you? He obviously saw your light.”
“I doubt it, but I’ll go down and check things out. You stay here and keep watch.”
She shot him a worried look. “Do you think that’s wise? If a drug deal is in progress, there’ll be others out there or on their way. Those people don’t mess around. I’ve seen their handiwork.”
“I’ll be fine. Keep your eyes peeled, but stay out of sight. Let me know if you spot anything out of the ordinary.”
“What’s out of the ordinary?” Nikki muttered.
“Any suspicious movement.”
“I’m assuming you don’t want me to shout a warning out the window,” she said.
“Good point.”
They exchanged phones, entered their numbers and then swapped back. Adam took another look out the window before he disappeared into the hallway. Nikki remained on guard, her attention riveted along the bank as she listened to the creaking floorboards in the corridor and the soft thud of retreating footsteps on the stairs.
A few moments later, Adam exited the building and made his way through the weeds to the top of the embankment. He started down without a backward glance and was soon lost to her view. She picked him up again when he got to the bottom and headed along the bank. He moved quickly, using shadows and trees for cover. Nikki swept the area, but detected no other movement. The night seemed very still all of a sudden. Even the breeze had died away.
He left the trail and headed into the woods. Nikki watched and waited, her muscles taut with tension. What an evening this had turned out to be. She’d barely had time to process Dr. Nance’s death, much less to grieve. Maybe it was better this way. Time enough later to plunge down that dark rabbit hole. She knew from past experience it would be no easy feat to crawl back out. She preferred to drift a little longer in shock and disbelief.
After a bit, her phone pinged and she glanced at the screen.
All clear. Don’t see anyone around.
She texted back: Are you coming back up?
Headed that way now.
She pocketed the phone and watched until she knew the coast was clear before she left her position at the window. Locating the loose floorboard, she knelt and used the blade of her grandfather’s Swiss Army knife to pry up the edge so that she could slip the board from the groove. Then she shone her flashlight down into the space. Cobwebs shimmered. Brushing aside the sticky threads, she reached into the cubby, feeling all along the bottom for the tattered edges of her journal.
The notebook was gone. All her secrets were gone.
Sitting back on her heels, she stared at the empty space for a moment before she finally rose and moved back to the window. She couldn’t see Adam. He was probably already climbing up the embankment. He would remain invisible until he reached the top. She could picture him out there now, scaling the steep slope in a few long strides. He wouldn’t need vines to pull himself up. He wouldn’t slip and slide and clutch at dead branches the way Nikki had.
Dropping once more to the floor, she flattened herself facedown so she could reach deeper into the niche. Her fingertips touched a smooth surface. Whatever was in there had been pushed back just beyond her reach.
She pressed her cheek to the floor and angled the flashlight beam into the cavity. Something gold glinted.
Stretching as far as she could reach, she managed to scoot the object toward her until she could wrap her fingers around it. A moment later, she removed a green wooden box with a small gold crown on the top.
She blew dust from the lid and then opened it. The watch inside was large, iconic, and looked to be solid gold. Carefully, she removed the band from the holder and held the crystal face up to the light. Her heart hammered by this time and a cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Still hunkering next to the hidey-hole, she turned over the watch, focusing the flashlight beam on the back of the case until she could make out the engraved initials: C.N.
Charles Nance.
Nikki had never seen Dr. Nance wear this particular watch—he preferred a more practical timepiece for everyday use—but she had no doubt it was his. The expensive watch had been a gift from his late wife, Audrey, and he only wore it on special occasions. When not in use, it remained safely tucked away in the green box and was given a place of honor on the fireplace mantel in Dr. Nance’s study, along with a framed wedding photograph of his beloved wife. Nikki only knew about the gift and its history because Dr. Nance’s housekeeper, Dessie Dupre, had once given her a peek when Nikki had helped dust Dr. Nance’s study. The shrine of items had fascinated Nikki, so Dessie had carefully removed the box from the mantel and opened the lid with reverence.
She was already dying when she gave it to him, poor thing. Now he wears it every year on their anniversary. That’s how special it is to him. The rest of the time it sits right here in this pretty green box.
Is it gold, Miss Dessie?
Solid gold, child. Worth a pretty penny, too. But you can’t put a price tag on a memory like that.
So how had Dr. Nance’s gold watch ended up in Nikki’s secret hiding place?
Someone had put it there some time ago, judging by the thick layer of dust on the box and the undisturbed cobwebs in the cubby.
The same someone who had removed her journal?
Chapter Four
The watch was a puzzle, seemingly unconnected to Dr. Nance’s death, if one believed in coincidences. Nikki wasn’t sure that she did, but she also c
ouldn’t deny the evidence of dust and cobwebs that suggested the box had been placed beneath the floorboard long before Dr. Nance had died.
She fretted about that watch and her missing journal as she lay in bed that night, unable to sleep. She thought about Dr. Nance all alone on the lake, realizing he was in trouble but powerless to save himself. Had she missed an important clue the last time she spoke with him? Had he been distracted and paranoid, perhaps even delusional, and she’d been too caught up in her own life to even notice?
After everything he’d done for her, Nikki hated to think that she’d let him down when he’d needed her most, that he had turned to a stranger for help instead of her. But then, Adam Thayer hadn’t been a stranger to Dr. Nance. Maybe not to her, either, if she could just place him.
As she was dozing off, recognition finally came to her. She almost bolted upright at the memory.
It hadn’t been at the Ruins after all. Not her first glimpse of him. She’d spied him on the bridge one day as she trudged down from the road. She hadn’t known his name then, but she could tell even from a distance that he was one of them. Those popular, privileged few who seemed to glide through life bathed in a golden light.
Bronzed and broad-shouldered, skin glistening in the hot sun, he’d hovered at the very edge of the bridge deck before executing a near-perfect backflip into the water. Hidden by the lush vegetation on the embankment, Nikki had watched from afar, fascinated by the stranger in spite of herself.
He’d looked very different back then, too. His hair had been long enough to touch his shoulders, dark, thick and carelessly tousled. Nikki remembered the way he had come up out of the water, slinging droplets from that glorious mop before striking out for the bank.
His clipped hair now revealed too much. Not just the scar across his scalp, but the lines of pain around his mouth and the deep shadows of distrust and cynicism in his eyes. Those shadows made Nikki wonder again about the shooting, about his past.
The image of a young Adam Thayer kept her awake for a very long time. Her alarm roused her at seven with a shrill jolt. Exhausted, she dragged herself out of bed and gulped coffee on her way to the lab.
Like every day, she spent the morning performing autopsies, and then she and her colleagues convened in the consultation room after lunch to go over the results. Fridays were always a rush, and normally, Dr. Nance’s autopsy would have been pushed to Monday since the Northeast Texas Forensic Science Center was closed on weekends, but Dr. Ramirez had agreed to come in early the next day. Nikki was grateful. The sooner they had answers, the better.
As busy as her morning was, she managed to squeeze in a call to Tom Brannon. He’d come back out to the Ruins the night before to take possession of the watch, bagging and tagging both the timepiece and the green box into evidence. Then early this morning he’d driven over to Dr. Nance’s house to confirm ownership with Dessie Dupre.
According to Dessie, the watch had been missing for years. Dr. Nance had assumed a worker who’d had access to the house had taken it, though nothing had ever been proved. The theft had been reported to the local police department, but the culprit was never found. That was all Dessie could tell him about the watch, Tom said. She’d been too upset by news of Dr. Nance’s death to be of much help otherwise.
He and Nikki spoke for a few more minutes and then she went back to work.
By the time she finally drove home, twilight had fallen and a few stars twinkled out. She parked in the garage and went through the side door into the backyard. A mild breeze stirred the wind chimes that hung from a tree branch, and she paused at the bottom of the back steps to enjoy the evening air.
The former owner of the property had been an avid gardener, and every day when Nikki got home from work, she tried to take a few moments to savor the fruits of her predecessor’s labors. The roses that grew next to the house were especially fragrant in the breeze and she closed her eyes as she drew in the heady aroma.
Tonight more than ever she was thankful for her little sanctuary. In her line of work, it was important to have a quiet place where she could unwind at the end of the day. She’d learned a long time ago how to compartmentalize, but she was vulnerable in her grief and unwanted memories came calling, threatening to lure her back into the gloomy despair of her youth.
She’d come a long way since those miserable days, in no small part because of Dr. Nance’s guidance and encouragement. He’d be the last person who’d want her to wallow. She could almost hear him scolding her in that teasing, pragmatic way he had. Life is for the living, Nik. Say your goodbyes and get on with it.
Easier said than done, of course. Her personal loss aside, as the Nance County coroner, she still had too many questions about his death.
A bat swooped low, drawing her attention skyward. She watched the dusky horizon for a moment longer before climbing the steps to the enclosed back porch that now served as her laundry room. During the renovation, she’d had washer and dryer connections installed, along with a walk-in shower. She could throw her clothes in the washer and scrub the scent of death from her skin and hair before ever setting foot in her house.
Pulling off her T-shirt and shimmying out of her jeans and underwear, she tossed everything in the washer, stepped into the shower and stood under the spray, as hot as she could stand it, scrubbing every inch of her skin and scalp until she could smell nothing but the slightly medicinal aroma of her soap and shampoo. She followed up with a subtle floral fragrance that reminded her of the wild roses that grew in profusion over her back fence.
Wrapped in a towel, she fished clean clothes out of the dryer and dressed right there on the back porch. She wiped down the shower and fiddled with a broken window shade until she realized she was putting off going inside the empty house. Out here she could keep her mind occupied. Inside, she had nothing to do but think.
She went back outside and sat down on the steps, once again letting the dreamy scent of the roses wash over her. Melancholy descended, along with a strange restlessness. She didn’t want to dwell on Dr. Nance’s death or the upcoming autopsy, so she dug deeper, allowing her mother’s specter to come creeping over her defenses.
Nikki didn’t think about her parents often. She’d long ago accepted the reality that she would probably never see either of them again. They could both be dead, for all she knew. But sometimes in her weaker moments, she would close her eyes and conjure the two of them together.
Her father had left first, sneaking away in the middle of the night and taking the old Buick and his last paycheck with him. Bitter and broke, Nikki’s mother, Joy, had had no choice but to go crawling back home to her mother. She’d taken her old bedroom at the back of the house, relegating her ten-year-old daughter to the lumpy couch in the family room. It wouldn’t have been so bad for Nikki if her grandfather had still been alive to temper her grandmother’s sharp tongue and her mother’s resentment. As it was, she found herself hiding out most of the time. Eventually, the three generations had fallen into an uneasy routine until Nikki had come home from school one day to find her mother throwing clothes into a battered suitcase. Nikki remembered that final conversation—every word, every nuance—as if it were yesterday.
Why are you packing, Mama? Are we moving out?
I wish, but where do you think we’d go? Your daddy took the car and every last cent we had when he left. I’ve managed to save a few bucks from my tips at the diner, so I’m going away with a friend for a little while. I need to get my head on straight and I can’t do that here.
Can I come with you?
Not this time. Grandma’s old and lonely. She needs you.
She doesn’t need me. She doesn’t even like me. And she sure as hell doesn’t want me here.
You watch your mouth around her, you hear me? Just stay out of her way and everything will be fine.
But why can’t I come with you?
Because you can’t
! I don’t expect you to understand any of this right now, but I hope someday you’ll look back and realize I’m doing what I think is best for both of us. Your daddy leaving the way he did made me realize that I have to get out, too, else I’ll be stuck in this godforsaken town for the rest of my life. I’m young. Still pretty, some say. I’m sorry, Nikki, but I need more out of life than being your mama.
All these years later and Nikki still had a hard time dealing with what had come next. The pleading and sobbing. The way she’d run down the driveway behind the departing car. She’d been too old to make such a spectacle of herself, or so her grandmother had told her. As painful as it was to remember that day, Nikki had learned a valuable lesson. She would never again give anyone that kind of power over her.
The memory flitted away as her attention snapped back to the present. A sound, a movement... Something had startled her from the past.
For a fleeting moment, Nikki had the uncanny sensation that someone watched her from the shadows. Her mind flashed back to the Ruins and to the way Adam Thayer had stared at her so intently. As if he knew her. Knew things about her. No way he could, of course. There was a reason she kept to herself.
Then she thought about the person they’d spotted on the bank. The way he’d hunkered in the shadows, watching the water, until Adam had turned on his flashlight. Something strange really was going on in Belle Pointe. Nikki just couldn’t figure out how she and her missing journal fit into the puzzle.
Rubbing her bare arms, she scoured the landscape. No one was there. Not the man from the lake. Certainly not Adam Thayer. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of invisible eyes upon her.
It’s just those old memories.
She rose and went quickly down the steps into the garden. Her backyard was small. Even with the encroaching darkness, she would be able to spot anyone lurking in the shadows or behind a bush. Nothing was amiss. No intruders. No Peeping Toms.
Circling the garden, she peered behind trees and trellises until satisfied that she was alone. She started to return to the house when she noticed the rear gate ajar. Her property backed up to a wooded area with a footpath on the other side of the creek for joggers and walkers. Nikki was in the habit of keeping the gate bolted so that no one would be tempted to take a shortcut through her yard to the street. She wasn’t so much worried for her safety as she valued her privacy.
A Desperate Search Page 5
