Cry in the Night (20 page)

“How’s it going?”

Did her voice hold strain? “Good.”

He accelerated down the drive. “You okay? You sound a little upset.”

“I’m fine. I got my first paycheck today.”

“Good for you! Ready to get that car?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. “Well, that might have to wait. Wes, that boyfriend I’ve been telling you about, wants to start his own outfitting business. I’m going to save up to help him get started.”

Like tracks worn in a dirt road, habit was hard to break. Kade knew she’d blow if he tried to advise her, but the words wouldn’t stay in his mouth. “You think that’s wise?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice was prickly.

“Just that the guy is supposed to take care of his girl, not the other way around. It’s setting a bad precedent.”

“Kade, you’re so old-fashioned. It’s a wonder Bree can stand to live with you. Listen, I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” The phone clicked.

He replaced his phone and shrugged. She was an adult, even if she didn’t always act like one.

He turned on a dirt road packed hard with snow. It was probably a waste of time to go back to the crag, but he drove in that direction anyway. He passed a crossroad, 200W, and realized George DeCota lived down that road. He should stop to check on him. Kade had called the night of the attack, and George’s wife said he was doing fine, but a personal visit to the tribal policeman wouldn’t hurt.

The wind was already busily undoing what the snowplow had done, and small drifts piled on the sides of the road. He found the house and trudged through the snow to the door. When he pounded on the door, he heard George’s gruff voice bellow, “Just a minute.”

Thumps sounded from inside. The door swung open, and George stood with the aid of crutches in the doorway. “Kade.” His brows rose. “Something is wrong?”

“Nope. Just thought I’d check on you.”

“It would take more than a broken ankle to keep me down,” George said. He stepped away from the door. “Come in.”

Kade followed him inside. He sniffed. “Smells like brownies.”

“My wife. She thinks food cures pain. Maybe she is right.” George grinned and dropped onto the worn sofa. “You find that den?”

“No. I was heading out to look again.”

“I was going to call you. My sons say they saw a mother cougar and four kittens yesterday up on Eagle Rock.”

Kade had started to sit, but he sprang upright at the news. “Where?”

“The rock wall overlooking the river.”

Kade knew it well. “I’ll head out there now. Thanks, George!” He headed for the door.

“Call if you find it!”

“I will.” Kade ran back to his truck and drove south to the Kitchigami wilderness area. The parking lot was deserted. He parked, grabbed his camera, then started for the summit. The climb wouldn’t be nearly as arduous as the last one. His breath fogged out of his mouth, and he trod the path as fast as he dared. The snow crunched under his boots. Fifteen minutes later he stood atop Eagle Rock and stared down at the frozen river.

The rocks hid a small cave mouth along the ledge six feet down. He suspected he might find the den there. His gaze swept the area and latched on to spoor by a pine tree. Big cat prints surrounded it. He touched one with his gloved hand, then rose and trailed the spoor to the edge of the cliff face. Peering over the side, he saw tracks on the ledge below. They disappeared into the cave.

The cougar’s lair. He didn’t dare jump down and enter. If kittens were inside, the mama cougar would be spitting and snarling. He wasn’t sure how to get the pictures he needed. He could settle in and wait, but the cougar would smell him and keep her babies hidden. His gaze raked the area. The tree. His camera took timed shots. He could wedge it in the tree and set it up for periodic exposures. Tomorrow he might have pictures that would prove the kittens existed.

Only one more day of work this week. Lauri rubbed gritty eyes. After shutting off her computer, she thrust her arms into her coat, grabbed her purse, and paused outside Mrs. Saunders’s door. She knocked.

“Come in.”

Lauri poked her head inside. “I’m going now, Mrs. Saunders. Anything I can do for you before I leave?”

The woman’s reddened eyes stared back. She bit her lip. “You want to have dinner with me tonight, Ms. Matthews? My husband is gone, and I . . . I’d rather not be alone. If you’ve got plans, that’s fine.”

“Sure, Mrs. Saunders. I can have dinner.” Wes wasn’t coming over tonight. “I need to stop by my home after class and let my dog out first. Is that okay?”

“Just bring him with you. Here’s my address.” She slid a card across the desk to Lauri.

“You mean we’re eating at your house?”

“Yes, I didn’t make that clear, did I? My cook is excellent.” Mrs. Saunders rose. “About six?”

“Okay.” Lauri backed out the door and ran for her car. An invitation to the boss’s house! What a coup. Curiosity gnawed at her though. The woman’s distressed state worsened every day. Maybe she’d open up tonight.

After her afternoon classes, Lauri ran by her apartment and grabbed Zorro, who was excited to be getting out. The heater in her old car didn’t work well, and Lauri shuddered with the cold as she drove along the icy streets of Houghton. When she reached the Saunders residence, she gasped. Lights spilled from windows that rose nearly two stories high. The place had to be ten thousand square feet.

She took Zorro up the heated walkway and pressed the doorbell. The shivers she had were from excitement, not the cold. “Be a gentleman,” she told her dog.

A woman answered the door. Her glance went to the dog, but she said nothing about Lauri bringing him along. “Mrs. Saunders is expecting you. This way, please.”

She led Lauri along a marble hallway. Art lined the walls. Lauri guessed the passage to be ten feet wide. Her boots left wet marks on the pristine floors, but there was nothing she could do about it. As she neared the dining room, the aroma of the food made her mouth water. Some kind of beef, maybe? She hadn’t eaten lunch, and her tummy had been complaining for the past two hours.

The woman stopped in front of the arched opening into the dining room. Lauri peeked in at the gleaming dishes and tableware. A huge centerpiece of fresh flowers graced the table. But Mrs. Saunders wasn’t in the room.

The housekeeper, or whatever she was, appeared to notice at the same time. “She was here a moment ago. Please be seated, and she’ll be right back, I’m sure.” The woman walked on down the hall and passed through a door at the end.

Lauri didn’t want to make the mistake of taking Mrs. Saunders’s seat, so she stood in the doorway feeling awkward. Zorro sat at her feet, then lay down. She glanced around the room, noticing more beautiful art on the walls.

“Stay,” she told Zorro. She wandered the room, examining the paintings more closely. Several were Picasso paintings. They appeared to be the real deal, not reprints. Must be a lot of money in accounting. Or maybe it was her husband’s money.

Restless when Mrs. Saunders didn’t appear after several minutes, Lauri moved back into the hall to look at the paintings there. Each one led her farther away from the dining room. When she decided to go back, she realized she’d taken several turns. Striking off in the direction she thought she’d come, she hurried toward what she thought was the dining room but found a library instead.

She needed Zorro to find her way back. Trying again to retrace her steps, she heard the murmur of voices. Maybe one belonged to Mrs. Saunders, though she had said her husband would be gone, and Lauri distinctly heard a male voice.

She moved in the direction of the sound. The door stood open a crack, and she could see into a living room or sitting room of some kind with sleek leather furniture and glass-topped tables. Very modern and expensive. But the voices, not the room, riveted Lauri’s attention.

Mrs. Saunders’s voice rose in a wail. “You killed her?”

“Your husband has to know we mean business. He’s got two days or Alexa is next. You’d better convince him.”

“I’ve tried.” Mrs. Saunders’s voice was choked. “Please don’t hurt her.”

Steps sounded on the floor. Lauri started to back up, but the door swung open before she could react, and she saw the man she’d delivered the briefcase to at the library. Mr. Jones.

“I thought someone was here.” Mr. Jones grabbed her arm and jerked her inside the room. He shoved her onto the sofa beside Mrs. Saunders.

“What did you hear?”

“No-nothing,” Lauri stammered. “I got turned around when I was looking at the pictures, and I was trying to find the dining room again.” The derision on his face told her he didn’t buy her excuses.

Mrs. Saunders rose and pulled Lauri to her feet. “Down the hallway and turn left,” she said. When the man started to grab Lauri’s arm again, her boss stepped between them. “This is between us, not her. You touch her and I’ll call the police.”

The man rolled his eyes then went toward the door. “She’d better be telling the truth.” With the warning, he exited.

Tears welled in Lauri’s eyes, but she wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t hurt her, but he’d scared her. And murder. Mrs. Saunders said he murdered someone. “Who is that guy?” she whispered.

Mrs. Saunders sank back onto the sofa and put her head in her hands. “A very bad man, Lauri. You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“No,” she said. The lie didn’t sit well on her conscience, but the terror welling in her chest kept her from admitting the truth. “What does he want?”

“Nothing for you to be concerned about. Maybe you’d better go home, Lauri. I’m not very good company.”

Who should she tell about this? Kade? Mason? Or should she just keep her mouth shut and hope to fly under that guy’s radar? She said her good-byes, grabbed Zorro, and headed straight for Wes’s mobile home. Darkness shrouded the yard, but she knew where the tools were and avoided falling over them on her way to the steps to the trailer. The light was still on in the living room, so she knew he was up. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door and stepped inside with Zorro on her heels.

Wes lay stretched out on the sofa. He sat up when Lauri came in. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Lauri sat on his lap and told him what had happened. “I’m scared,” she said. “He murdered someone.”

“What’s his name?” Wes asked.

Lauri shuddered, and Zorro whined and put his cold nose against her cheek. “Bill Jones, but that’s got to be fake.”

His jaw jutted. “No one messes with my girl.”

“Am I your girl? Did you break it off with Maura?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “But you know what—we might be able to exploit this thing.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes shone as he leaned forward and grasped her hand. “You heard incriminating evidence, Lauri! He might cough up enough money for me to start my own outfitting business. He’s not going to want you to tell what you know.”

“He might
kill me
if he knows what I overheard! Or don’t you care about that?”

“Kill you. Listen to yourself. You’re so melodramatic. He’s not going to kill you, especially if he knows I know too. He can’t go around killing everyone.”

Suddenly cold, Lauri clasped her arms around herself. “You don’t know this guy.”

“No, but I’m going to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if I watch your boss long enough, he’s bound to show up. And I can get his plate number and track him down.”

“Don’t do anything,” she begged. “I’m scared, Wes. Please listen to me.”

But his gaze was distracted and she knew he didn’t hear a word she said. She was going to have to talk to Kade.

16

IF SHE HEARD JENNA GIGGLE ONE MORE TIME AT KADE ’ S jokes, Bree was going to dump this colander of spaghetti on her head. Didn’t Jenna realize how inappropriate it was to flirt with a married man? Or maybe she flirted with everyone.

Bree put the food on the table. “Dinner,” she called. The least Jenna could do was help around the house. She hadn’t lifted a finger since she moved in. She left her bed unmade and dirty towels on the bathroom floor. Maybe she was used to a maid, but Bree wasn’t about to pick up after her.

Her gaze went to the window. Darkness fell early this time of year. Was that man out there watching? If only she knew who he was. Her suspicions had to be wrong. She’d seen Rob’s remains. Still, who would want to confuse and taunt her—and why?

After dinner, Bree waited until Jenna went to bed to talk to Kade about her. The fire threw shadows around the living room, and the cinnamon scent from the candle soothed her ire.

Kade dropped beside her on the sofa and hugged her. “You were quiet through dinner. Everything okay?”

Bree’s first reaction was to stiffen, but she reminded herself Jenna’s behavior wasn’t his fault. She was the one who had invited Jenna to stay. “It’s Jenna,” she said. “It’s driving me crazy the way she flirts with you. She’s been here over a week now.”

“I haven’t been flirting with her!”

“I didn’t say you were, but I’d like to see you discourage her a little.”

He pulled her tighter. “I’ve never seen you jealous.”

She struggled against his grip. “I’m not jealous! It’s just not appropriate.” He laughed, and she wanted to punch him. “It’s not funny, Kade.”