Buried Truth (8 page)

She’d remembered none of it until the flashing red lights in her rearview mirror had compelled her to stop, and then the pinnacle of humiliation had occurred when Bill pulled her over.

She cleared her throat.

“Hello, Aunt Jean. My editor said you found some fossils in your backyard.”

Bill stepped forward. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to write that story now.”

“It isn’t a story about her—just a couple paragraphs about the find.”

Jean nodded and beckoned her. “Come in for some tea and we’ll talk about it.”

“She can’t come in right now, Aunt Jean,” Bill said, taking Heather by the arm and moving her swiftly away until they were out of earshot. His hand moved from her arm to wrap around her waist and she found herself pressed close to his warm chest.

She tried to squirm away. “You’re being a bully.”

“Listen to me, would you?” he hissed. “This is not a game.”

She willed herself to be still and ignore the way his arms circled the small of her back, the dark eyes that filled with emotion. “I’m going to stay. I have to earn a living.”

He let go with one hand and slid his fingers up her arm until he cupped her chin and gently forced it up. “Heather, please …”

His face was filled with desperation and longing. She found herself unable to breathe, so she pulled away and he let her go. Insides trembling, she tried to control the spinning in her head. “I’m not here to hurt you, or make your life harder, truly I’m not. I know … I know I already did both those things and I won’t let it happen again, but if I don’t stay here I will be abandoning my mother and that would mean I’m the same as her.” Heather was surprised that the thoughts tumbled out before she’d even realized she was thinking them, along with hot tears.

Bill drew close again and brushed the hair from her face, tracing one finger down her damp cheek. His touch was warm and gentle. “I’ve only known your mother for a few hours, and I know you’re not your mother.”

But maybe she was. She’d run after he’d arrested her, ignored him and the tenderness they’d shared. She’d run . . just like her mother, coming back to South Dakota only when she’d heard Bill was gone. And before that, she’d spent years running to a bottle whenever she felt she couldn’t face her problems.

A sudden paralyzing guilt hit her that made her want to turn and run again. Balling her fists and silently begging God, she lifted her face to his. “I’m not going to leave this time.”

It might have been her imagination, but she saw the glimmer of a smile on his lips until his phone rang.

T
he hair on the back of Bill’s neck rose as he recognized the voice on the line.

“Taking your time returning my call, Cloudman. Didn’t you get the message I left with your aunt?”

Bill gripped the phone and turned away from Heather but she followed him, her face etched with concern.

“It’s a matter of time before you’re caught and sent back to jail, Oscar.”

Oscar laughed into the phone. “Now, that’s the tough lawman speaking. Only, you are not a lawman anymore, are you? You are a regular guy who lost his best friend and his strung-out sister.”

“What do you know about my sister?” Bill spat the words.

“More than you think.”

While Bill fought against a tide of anger, Heather touched his arm. The sensation brought his spinning rage down a notch and he took a breath. The man was baiting him, prodding at his most vulnerable parts. “Why don’t you and I meet and settle this?” He ignored Heather’s suddenly tightened grip. “This is between you and me, man-to-man.”

“You’re right about that, but it’s so much fun to make you squirm. Watch the big tough guy cringe knowing I can get
to his loved ones any time, any day. You deserve to twist in the wind.” His tone was suddenly flat, seething with rage. “After all, you are responsible for taking away Autie and his mother.”

Bill shook his head. It was like trying to reason with a stubborn child. “You killed your wife, Oscar, if that’s what you mean. Remember?”

“I had no choice,” Oscar shouted, the polite veneer gone.

“What are you talking about?”

“And you killed my son, Autie, my boy.”

Bill snapped into the phone, “Your boy killed a woman. He was a murderer just like his father. I helped bring him in and he tried to escape custody. The officers were doing their job and Autie gave them no other choice.”

He heard only the sound of heavy breathing until Oscar spoke again. “You are responsible, no one else. My wife, my boy, they’re gone because of you and now you are going to feel what it’s like to lose.”

A chill cut through Bill’s body. “It’s between you and me. Don’t drag anyone else into this.”
Especially not Heather.

More laughter. “Now I’ve got you worried, don’t I? You should be. I have total power over your life, Cloudman. You’re a puppet and I hold the strings. I could kill you anytime.” He whispered, “Maybe even right now. Maybe I’ve got a bead on you this very moment.”

Bill pulled Heather into the circle of his arm, moving her toward the shelter of Aunt Jean’s trailer. He wanted both women inside, and fast.

Oscar wasn’t done. “But don’t worry, Cloudman. When I kill you, it will be face-to-face. I want to look into your ugly mug and know that I’ve won. Be seeing you soon.” The phone disconnected.

Bill pushed Heather and Aunt Jean into the trailer as he dialed the Tribal Ranger office. They patched him through to
Crow and Rudley, who were already on their way with some information on the phone number.

Bill wanted to sit with Heather and Aunt Jean, to ease the worry that shone on both their faces, but he couldn’t make himself do it. The anger and helplessness flooded through him like a poison as he paced the floor.

“Tell us, Billy,” Aunt Jean said.

He held up a hand. “I’ll handle it. I don’t want you upset.”

Heather shook her head, eyes never leaving his face. “This involves all of us and we have a right to know. What did Oscar say?”

Bill tried to replay the stream of hatred in his mind. “He blames me for the death of his wife and son.”

Aunt Jean frowned. “His wife? Hazel? But he killed that poor child not a half mile from here. How could that be your fault?”

“I don’t know. And he implied he knows something about Leanne’s death.”

Heather looked questioningly at him, but he could not bring himself to tell her about Leanne.

Aunt Jean patted Heather’s hand. “Leanne was a good girl, a great big sister to Bill and she tried her best to be a good mother to her twins, Kelly and Rose. She had a hard time beating her addiction.”

He saw Heather’s face flood with color. In that moment he hoped she might understand why he’d arrested her that night.

Aunt Jean chewed her fingernail thoughtfully. “We thought she’d done it. Clean for almost a year. Going to school and earning a little money doing some janitorial work at the lab, until she was found dead of an overdose.”

Bill gritted his teeth. How he hated that word. Overdose. It made his sister sound like a common junkie, a piece of trash,
not the vibrant, genuine person she had been. His big sister. And he’d lost her. “Egan should have told me she was using again.”

Heather gave him a puzzled look. “Dr. Egan?”

“He was her boss. He knew she was recovering. He should have told me she was having trouble and maybe I could have intervened.”

Aunt Jean raised her chin. “You know this wasn’t Dr. Egan’s fault. He was her employer—we were her family.” She sighed. “We should have known, you and me.”

He knew she was right. He didn’t want to twist his sorrow into blame the way Oscar had done, but the pain rose up as fresh as it had been since Leanne’s body was discovered.

Heather spoke, her voice soft. “Do you think Oscar was involved in her death somehow?”

He shook his head. “No. I think he wants to make me believe he has power, that he’s responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to me, because in his mind I’m the cause of every tragedy in his life.”

Aunt Jean frowned. “Oh, Billy. He’s a bad one. Anyone who could kill Hazel, that sweet lady.”

“Did you know her well?” Heather asked.

“Well enough. She grew up here on the reservation. She … she was on her way back, they think, running from Oscar, but he caught her before she made it. Caught her and killed her.”

Bill felt a sudden rush of anger that he could not control. He slammed his hand down on the table, making both women jump. “The fact is, Oscar is right. He does have the power because he knows the best way to hurt me is by hurting you two.”

Heather put her hand over his, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “Then we will just have to be smarter than he is until you catch him.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the same determined woman he’d known before. He wondered if she could see the fear in his eyes. His throat tightened.

Crow and Rudley pulled up and entered the trailer. Aunt Jean plied them with iced tea and potato chips.

Rudley took a videotape from his pocket. “We traced the call. You’re not going to believe this.”

Bill braced himself. At this point he didn’t see how things could possibly be worse.

“The number Oscar called from was the pay phone, just across the street from Tribal Ranger headquarters,” Rudley said.

Heather’s mouth fell open.

Bill straightened. “That’s monitored. There’s a camera… .”

Rudley held up a hand. “Yes, we’ve got him on camera. Here’s a copy.”

He popped the tape into Aunt Jean’s VCR and they watched the gray image come into view. Oscar wore a baseball hat and plaid shirt. He made no effort to try to conceal his face from the camera. At the end of the call, he unfolded a large piece of paper and held it up.

They leaned forward.

Crow pointed to the screen. “It’s a date, isn’t it? Nine, one and the year?”

Bill nodded slowly. “Yes, September first.”

“That’s next week. What does it mean, Bill?” Heather said.

“It was his son Autie’s birthday.” Bill stared at the grainy image, the evil smile on Oscar’s face. “It’s the day he’s going to try and kill me.”

Heather tried to keep herself calm for Aunt Jean’s sake. The woman looked pale despite her tanned skin. Her mouth opened, but she did not say anything. Heather fetched her a
glass of water and watched as she drank it. After a few deep breaths, she seemed to recover.

“What can we do to help you, Bill?” She squeezed Heather’s fingers. “I’m sure this young lady agrees with me that we’re in this together.”

Together? They certainly were drawn together by the actions of a crazed maniac, but being together with Bill meant possibly resurrecting the past, and that was a recipe for pain. She forced herself to nod anyway. “What should we do?”

Bill’s tone was exasperated. “You
should
leave town, but we already tried that option.”

The comment brought Heather back to the present. “My mother. I need to get home and check on her.”

Bill nodded. “I’ll go with you. Aunt Jean, why don’t you come, too?”

She shook her head firmly. “No. I need to stay here. I’m tutoring some children in math later and I’m not going to cancel out on them because of some lunatic.”

Heather saw the ghost of a smile on Bill’s face. “I thought you were going to say something like that.” He gestured to Crow and Rudley. “Can you keep watch on Aunt Jean?”

“I will,” Crow said. “I’ll stay awhile and check in every hour.”

Heather wondered if he resented being asked to babysit. It didn’t appear so.

Aunt Jean had a slightly bemused expression on her face. “I can perfectly well take care of myself, but if that makes you feel better, I’ll make us a snack.”

Heather followed Bill and Rudley outside. Rudley excused himself to go back to the station and continue the search.

“Keep your heads down and don’t try any heroic stuff,” he told Bill. “You’re not wearing a badge anymore.”

Bill’s face darkened as he waited for her and Choo Choo to get into the Jeep. He slammed into his truck, gunned the
engine and they began the trip back to her place, stopping only long enough for Bill to pick up Tank.

Heather brooded over the last few miles. Five days. In five days Oscar Birch was going to try his best to kill Bill, and he would use Bill’s weaknesses to do it. Heather knew that right or wrong, Oscar counted her as one of Bill’s greatest vulnerabilities.

Little did he know it was all in the past. She remembered the feel of Bill’s arms around her as he’d pulled her protectively to himself. Her breath caught as she swallowed a wave of longing followed by the bitter sting of guilt. His own sister had died from her addiction. How had he felt seeing another woman he loved overcome by a need that had gotten out of control?

She fought down the flood of emotion. Maybe there was something she could dig up on Oscar that would help the police catch him. In the meantime, she had to earn a living and take care of her mother.

Her mother. It was still strange to believe her mother was back in her life.

Or was she? Maybe when the slow life in South Dakota began to wear on her she’d be gone again, just like before.

On the heels of that difficult thought, they pulled up to the cabin and she was surprised to see a Lexus parked in front that she recognized as Dr. Egan’s. Another detail struck her with terror. The front door of the house was open.

She leaped from the car and Choo Choo followed, but Bill and Tank were faster.

“Stay here,” he whispered, drawing a gun. He murmured something to Tank in a language she didn’t know. The dog charged into the house, body rigid with excitement.

She knelt next to Choo Choo and circled his neck for comfort.

Heather felt as if she’d been dropped into a bad movie. Had
Oscar gotten to her mother? How would she feel if he had? Warring emotions fought inside her; fear, anger, resentment at the fact that she couldn’t decide on any one emotion. Her mother shouldn’t even be here.

Fear for Bill weighed on her, as well. The date caught on camera could have been a ruse. When the panic became too much to stand she crept into the house, Choo Choo at her side. There was a shout and loud barking. Both Heather and the dog broke into a run, charging forward, thoughts flying wildly through her head as she pictured her mother or Bill struck down at the hands of Oscar Birch.

The place was empty.

She frantically dashed from room to room, Choo Choo lumbering behind.

No sign of anyone.

The tumult came from outside, she realized, and she charged through the back door, running down the sloped path that led past the small porch to the wilder portions of the property.

Heart hammering, she saw three figures, indistinct because of the harsh sunlight that struck at her. With a surge of terror she realized one of the people was sprawled on the ground.

Bill watched Heather as she took it all in. The stricken person was her mother, propped against a rock, Tank on alert close to Dr. Egan, who stood, face pale, next to her. Bill could see the warring emotions on Heather’s face as her glance shifted from her mother to Egan to Bill and back to her mother.

Bill holstered his weapon. “I told you to stay out front.”

She shrugged, probably still trying to master her swarm of emotions. “Sometimes I don’t do what I’m told.”

Bill’s lip curled and he almost laughed. “You don’t say.”

“What is going on?” She shot a tentative glance at her mother. “Are you hurt?”

Her mother shook her head. “I wanted to come take a look at the place again and I tripped. My cane went flying and I had some trouble getting back on my feet.” Her lips were tight with frustration, or maybe it was disgust. Heather could not be sure.

Dr. Egan cleared his throat. “She heard my car pull up and called for help. I let myself in and found her.”

“Fortunately, I forgot to lock the door.”

Bill bit back a reprimand as Egan continued.

“We were just about to move back in the house when Bill and the attack dog came charging in.” He chuckled. “Nearly scared us both out of our wits.”

“Tank will do that,” Bill said, giving the dog a pat.

Heather wiped at her forehead. “Let’s go back into the house and we can talk.” She glanced at her mother. “Are you able …?”

“Yes,” Margot snapped. “Quite able, thank you.” She grabbed the cane from Egan’s hand and pulled herself up, ignoring his offered hand. Shoulders straight as ever, she made her way back to the house, while they followed.

Heather lagged back to stand next to Bill. “You thought it was Oscar?” she whispered.

He sighed. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“Why do you look like you’re still angry?”

He wondered how she always seemed to know how he was feeling. “Not angry. Egan brings back bad memories, is all.”