In the Arms of Stone Angels (20 page)

When he looked up at me, the room closed in. And stupid stuff went through my mind. Things like—

Why didn't I look in a mirror while I was friggin' waiting? My face was still battered and my lip was cut. What was I thinking? And I'd grown real breasts since he'd last seen me. Would he notice? And my damned hair was cut off. Would he like it? I dragged a hand through my hair and fidgeted with my clothes. I had changed ten times and I could've changed twenty more and it wouldn't have mattered. I'd never feel right about seeing him after all this time—especially after what I'd done.

But the biggest question in my arsenal was
could he ever forgive me?

All of that swirled in my head, pulling a three-sixty like a flushing toilet. And the most genius thing I came up with to say was, “Hey.”

“Brenna? It
is
you. I thought I dreamed you.” His gentle voice was exactly as I remembered it. It always sent chills over my skin.

I walked closer to the bed. And to keep my hands busy, I twisted his bed linens. It was all I could do not to touch him.

“They cut your hair.” I said. “It looks…good.”

Good? It looked frickin' great.
The boy could totally be bald and look amazing, but I felt heat rush to my face. The last thing I wanted to do was call his attention to hair. My hair was sort of a disaster.

“Did they?” He ran a hand through his short dark hair. “Yeah, guess so, but you're one to talk. You've got short hair, too.”

“Oh, yeah. Long story, but it's growing on me, literally.” I smiled as I touched the hair on the back of my neck.

A comfortable silence filled the room. And White Bird stared at me the way he used to. With any other boy, I would have turned bright red. But seeing him look at me felt…
right.
And when I stared back, he didn't look away.

“I'm not sure about what happened to me, but I'm sure that I've missed you, a lot.”

“Yeah. And I've missed you, too.”

He had the same soft brown eyes, colored with flecks of gold and green that reminded me of wheat blowing gently in the breeze. And with his skin darker than mine—the color of sweet caramel—I liked how we looked together. Like a two-scoop vanilla sundae with nuts on top…me being the nuts.

“You've grown up, Brenna.” He smiled and reached for my cheek. I noticed his fingers shook, but I pretended not to see it. “And you look…beautiful. More…beautiful.”

When his fingers touched my cheek, I reached for his hand and held it, with his warm skin pressed against my face. And I kissed his palm as a tear slid down my cheek. I wanted to talk with him forever, just the two of us. I had a new school in North Carolina that I wanted to tell him about. And he didn't know my grandmother had died and how sad that made me. And his sweat lodge…I wanted to tell him how proud I was of him, but all of that would have to wait.

I had to clear the air about what I'd done, mostly because I didn't feel worthy to talk to him unless I told him. And a guy like White Bird deserved to know the truth. He'd always been honest with me. If I'd learned anything in the past two years, it was to face my fear head-on. Ignoring shit didn't make it go away and demons only got stronger. I was tired of hiding. And if I didn't tell him, I'd be a hypocrite to pretend I was his friend.

“White Bird, I've got something to say. Promise me you'll listen.”

“What's the matter, Bren? Are you crying?” He wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Talk to me. I'm listening.”

The tears came harder now. And I choked on my sobs to get out what I needed to say.

“Two years ago, I was the one who turned you in to the sheriff.”

“What?” He grimaced as he stared at me. And I saw his body stiffen, but he didn't pull away.

“You promised that you'd listen,” I cried. “I didn't see anything except you kneeling over Heather's body. What was I supposed to think?”

I should have rehearsed what I would say to him. Words were spilling from my mouth like puke, each one more rank than the last. I was grasping at anything to say. And everything came out wrong.

“I should have believed in you. You were my friend.”

“Were?” This time he pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. “You mean I'm not now? From what the doctor said, it's been two years, Brenna. Guess a lot of stuff has happened since then.”

“Yeah, but Joe thinks you might've been a witness.”

I told him about Joe's theory, that under the influence of peyote, he might have gotten separated from his spirit guide and lost his way in his quest. And that Joe believed he might have been a witness to what had happened to Heather.

“Joe thinks that? So what do you think, Brenna? Do you think I killed her?” He didn't wait for me to answer. “Guess so. You were the one who called the cops.”

“But you don't know what's happened since I came back.
Lots of stuff. All you have to do is tell us what happened that night. And maybe all this will be over.”

“Oh, is that all?” He raised his voice and pressed fingers to the side of his head. “I can't remember anything. And I've got a headache the size of Oklahoma. Now probably isn't the best time for us to be talking about this.”

He was right, but I wasn't sure I'd get another chance, especially when the hospital door opened and Sheriff Logan walked in.

“Time for you to leave, Brenna. I'm placing Isaac Henry under arrest for the murder of Heather Madsen. And it's about time he gets his day in court.” The sheriff pulled his handcuffs and grabbed White Bird by the wrist. “One of my deputies will be posted at his door until Dr. Ridgeway releases him.”

After Sheriff Logan cuffed him to the bed, White Bird got really mad and he yelled terrible things. He didn't understand. And I'd run out of time to explain it, even if I knew how.

“Were you working with the sheriff, Brenna? Is that why you're here?” He yanked his arm and the handcuff clanged on the metal bed rail. “I thought we were…friends. Why are you doing this to me?”

When he wouldn't settle down, Dr. Ridgeway came back with an orderly and a nurse. Through a sea of white uniforms, I saw White Bird staring at me. He was mad—
really mad at me
—for the first time. The doctor ordered a nurse to give him a shot. It must have been strong, because he dropped like a rock and stopped struggling.

And all of this had been my fault.

I pressed my back to the wall of the hospital room and sank to my knees, crying. And when the sheriff knelt by me and put a hand on my shoulder, I pleaded, “Why are you doing this? Why couldn't you have waited?”

With a pained expression on his face, Sheriff Logan said, “Murder charges don't just go away. He's got to face up to what he's done. And Heather's parents need closure. You knew this would happen, didn't you?”

I choked back a sob and asked, “So what's going to happen to him now?”

“Two years have gone by since the murder. The District Attorney will probably want to try him as an adult now. Juvenile detention is out.”

“What? But that's not fair.” I grabbed his arm. “He was a kid when Heather died.”

“She didn't die, Brenna. She was murdered,” Sheriff Logan argued. “And for the record, what happened to that girl and her family, that's unfair. You better get your priorities straight.”

The sheriff pulled me to my feet, but he was done talking. He sent a nurse to get Joe and my mom. And when they came, I collapsed into my mother's arms and cried for real this time. I walked from White Bird's hospital room, feeling totally beat up. But when I looked at Joe, he had something to say.

“I know you're sad, Brenna, but we don't have time for tears.” He walked down the hospital corridor with Mom and me, his hands clasped behind his back. “We've got work to do.”

I stopped in the hall and stared at him for a long moment, drilling through my memory of what he'd told me when he talked about dream symbols and what they meant. Joe had believed that White Bird might have been a witness to Heather's murder. And if that were so, then the answer might lie in the notes I'd written down.

And before I had entered the vision, Joe had tried to warn me when he said,
“White Bird is locked in his mind, but even if
you reach him and show him the way out of his torment, he still won't be free.”

“You knew this would happen, didn't you, Joe?” I asked. “You tried to warn me.”

The Euchee Shaman didn't answer. The look in his eyes was enough for me.

“Warn you about what?” But Mom was clueless. She looked at both Joe and me, waiting for one of us to answer her.

“I'll explain it to you later, Mom. But now, I think Joe and me have work to do.”

 

With his squad car pulled over onto the shoulder of a road on the north side of Shawano, Will Tate had just finished issuing a warning to a speeder in an SUV. His spiraling red-and-blue lights had attracted gawkers and traffic around him had slowed to a crawl, even though the violator had already merged into the nearest lane. He had his vehicle door open and was finishing his warning citation when he got the return call from Jon Fischer at TimeOnMyHands.com. Fischer had called his cell phone and Will recognized the area code on his caller ID.

“Yeah, this is Deputy Tate. Thanks for returning my call so quickly.”

“Always glad to cooperate with law enforcement.” Fischer had a real thick accent—Brooklyn or New Jersey maybe—and he talked a little too fast. “I don't get calls like this every day, you know. To tell you the truth, this breaks up the job for me. What I do ain't exactly rocket science, if you know what I mean.” The guy laughed, then got down to business. “You said you needed a name and shipping address for a specific transaction.” The guy rattled off the etched number inside the watch.

“Just a minute. Let me confirm that number.” Will had brought a digital photo of the watch and had it in a manila folder on his passenger seat. After he checked the number, he said, “Yeah that's the one. You got that name and address for me?”

Will grabbed a notepad to take down the information, but when Fischer read off Matt Logan's name and address, he stopped writing.

“What? Are you sure about that name?”

“Hey, buddy, I'm not exactly makin' this stuff up over here. You want the name, or what?”

“Yeah, read it to me again.”

This time Will didn't write anything down. He already knew the name and address too well. After he ended the call, he stared out his windshield and watched his lightbar cut its red-and-blue beams through the dark. Sheriff Logan had seen the watch earlier and didn't make a big deal about it. He acted like he'd never seen it before. Will wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but how did the sheriff's watch end up at that sweat lodge campfire? That site had never been part of the original crime scene where Heather's body had been found.

And whoever took the watch from the evidence locker had done it without following procedure by signing for it. That made Will even more suspicious of a man he respected. Matt Logan had the experience and the opportunity to mess with the Madsen murder investigation.

And maybe he even had motive.

“Damn it, Matt. What the hell did you do?” He heaved a sigh, blocking out all the terrible thoughts he had in his head as reasons Matt might have been involved in Heather's killing. Each thought was uglier than the last, but he couldn't get his
head wrapped around any of it. Though he had a few blind spots, Matt Logan was one of the finest men he knew. And he deserved a chance to explain his actions.

When Will contacted dispatch to locate the sheriff, they gave him Red Cliffs Hospital as his last known location. He shut off his emergency lights and headed for the hospital. He needed to talk with Logan, one-on-one. And this time, there'd be no pussyfootin' around who was doin' what with the Madsen case. As far as Will knew, the sheriff had tampered with evidence and who knew what else. He needed answers and pronto.

It took him a half hour or more to get to the hospital, but by the time he got there, the sheriff was gone. His cruiser wasn't in the parking lot and hospital staff told him Sheriff Logan had already left. The man worked long hours on a normal basis, but at this time of day, the sheriff could have called it quits and gone home. To make sure, Will called dispatch again, but this time he contacted the on-duty operator on his cell phone. He didn't want anyone listening in to his radio frequency.

“I'm still trying to locate the sheriff, Jolene. He's not at Red Cliffs. You got his twenty?”

“No, Will. I've got nothing. And that's not like him. You want me to check around?”

Jolene had been a dispatch operator since God had invented Oklahoma red dirt. And when she told him that the sheriff normally told her where he was and when he was off duty, Will knew something was up. Until today, Logan had taken pride in doing everything by the book. And lately he'd seemed distracted, especially after the Nashes had come back to town and the Madsen case had new evidence.

“No, ma'am. It's no big deal. It'll wait till morning,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

He could have waited until morning, like he'd told Jolene, but Will had no intention of doing that. He got back into his cruiser and headed out, looking for Matt Logan. And when he found him, he wasn't sure how it would go down, but he was determined to set things right. He suspected the sheriff had tampered with evidence—or worse.

And no one was above the law.
No one.

“Your uncle is the sheriff, Derek. Buy a vowel and get a clue. After we renovated the Nash place last night, I don't think a surprise visit from him is a good thing. His timing sucks.” Talking to Derek on her cell phone, Jade DeLuca couldn't believe he was so clueless. “This can't be good.”

After she locked her bedroom door, Jade kicked off her shoes and flopped on her bed.

“I don't know. He acted all casual and stuff,” Derek argued. “Maybe it's nothin'.”

“And maybe you need to avoid him for a few days, just to be on the safe side.” She raised her voice. Derek was too laid-back and it pissed her off.

“I can't. We've got a family deal this weekend. At my house. And Mom says he's comin'.”

“Can't you tell your mom you made other plans? This isn't exactly complicated.” She crammed a pillow under her head. Beef boy was giving her a headache. “And stay clear of that skank Brenna. No more following her.”

“You act like that was my brilliant idea. You're the one who likes screwin' with people.”

From the tension in his voice, she knew Derek wouldn't take her usual abuse.

“Okay, okay. Chill.
Gawd!
” She shut her eyes and breathed deep. “Maybe we both need to relax and kick back a little.”

“What are you sayin'?”

“Chloe's got a new stash and I could seriously use a hit right now.”

“What about her parents?”

“They're MIA. She said she'd have the house to herself tonight. You want to meet me there in twenty?”

“Yeah, sure. But you know weed makes me horny.” His mood had changed.

Derek's idea of foreplay was talking dirty. And if she looked up the word
crude
on Wikipedia, his picture would be staring back. Playing along, Jade teased him back, using her sexy voice.

“Yeah, me, too.”

She ended the call, not waiting to hear what he'd say. The guy was the original horn dawg. His boy toy was like 7-Eleven, open 24/7, three hundred sixty-five days a year. Absolutely everything made him horny, even the crack of dawn.

But Jade had another reason for getting the three of them together tonight. All of them had a hand in what happened to Heather, even precious little Chloe. And she wanted to remind them that they had as much to lose as she did.

Of course, only she knew that wasn't exactly true. Jade had much more at stake, but that choice tidbit would stay her little secret. It
had
to.

 

After Matt Logan had heard Will Tate's call to the dispatch operator over his radio, he'd cut off all communications and
didn't tell Jolene where he was now. His deputy was looking for him and he had a bad feeling the call was about the watch that he'd taken from the evidence locker. He should have put the damned thing back. Taking evidence went against everything he'd stood for, but family was important, too. And his interference wasn't just about his nephew. If the kid did something wrong, he should pay for it like everyone else, but this was about more than protecting Derek.

He'd spent his whole life taking care of his little sister. And she didn't need the shit storm that would rain down on her if Derek had anything to do with Heather's death. Newspeople would have a field day at her expense, simply because she was related to the sheriff. He'd been called “the preacher” before and some folks might like to see him taken down a notch.

Now he was wedged in a corner of his own making and had no one to blame but himself. That's why he was parked down the street from his sister's house, waiting in the shadows. He was deciding his next step. He still had time to fix things, as long as he stayed clear of Will Tate. He could put that damned watch back without anyone being the wiser.

But he had to talk to Derek. He had to know the truth, man-to-man.

When Derek got into his truck and pulled out of his driveway, Matt knew what he had to do. He followed the boy from a safe distance so the kid wouldn't see him in his rearview mirror. When the time was right, he flashed his lights and pulled him over. He felt like a traitor, but his sister needed his help more than Derek would.

The boy rolled down his window and looked relieved to see his face, but that lasted only until Matt opened his mouth.

“Park it and give me the keys, Derek.
Now!
”

“What's wrong, Uncle Matt?”

“And you can drop the Uncle Matt. Tonight, I'm Sheriff Logan.”

Having had a long career in law enforcement, Matt knew how to intimidate anyone. And this time, he'd be playing hardball with his nephew.

“You're coming with me. And don't you dare argue, son.”

 

Joe came home with us and Mom made him dinner. Even before we got done eating, we were talking about what I'd written and what everything meant.

He told me that when I pictured White Bird at the start of my journey, that triggered the link between us. I listened to what he had to say. Seeing my vision through his eyes was like watching
The Matrix
a second time, seeing cool things I'd missed before.

He said that the sea of white at the beginning of my vision represented my spiritual nature and my willingness to accept mystical stuff. And the weird, lime-green Jell-O forest was my last refuge before I ventured into the charred trees and stinky blood flowers, the danger part.

When we got to the bear and the mutant animals, I noticed Mom went to do the dishes and she got really quiet. At first, she'd been interested in what I told Joe, but when I got into the creepy part, I knew it scared her.

I
scared her.

I knew all of this vision tripping would be hard for her to believe. That's why I'd never brought up that I was a card-carrying member of the “I see dead people” club. Mom was rooted too firmly in reality. And my “gift,” as Joe called it, was probably some other bizarre quirk that I'd gotten from my father's side of the family.

At some point, when both of us were ready to deal with the questions I had about my dad, I would ask Mom about him, but she looked tired. Eventually Mom went upstairs to take a long bath and left us to work. I thought if I looked at my jumbled notes that I'd see a pattern. I really wanted an “Aha” moment when everything would become crystal clear, but that didn't happen.

I had something else on my mind. And it had zapped my brain energy.

“I can tell, something is blocking you. What's the matter?” Joe had a weird way of talking, but he knew how to get to the point.

“He hates me, Joe. He thinks I was working with the sheriff, this whole time. What happened two years ago is old news to us, but to him it's a fresh wound.”

“That boy is smart. He'll figure it out.” Joe's easy way of talking felt like a hot cup of cocoa on a wintry day. “You're a good girl, Brenna.” He nodded his head and winked. “He'll notice.”

“Not if he's in jail for the rest of his life.” I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, fighting off the sting of tears. “And all because of me.”

I couldn't forget the look of real anger on White Bird's face when he thought I'd betrayed him to the sheriff.

“You forget. He played a part, too. You're taking way too much credit for how things went down.” He shoved aside his notepad and leaned across the kitchen table. “Remember what I said about tests in your life?”

“Not…exactly.”

I seriously wished I had remembered what he told me. Things that came from Joe always seemed important. Like White Bird, the man didn't waste words.

“Stop questioning the tests that are put in your path. You're given only what you can handle. And those tests—making mistakes and figuring stuff out—that's what makes you stronger.” He locked his eyes on mine. “Quit looking back, Brenna. The only thing you can change is what's ahead of you.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But I wanted for us to be…” Even as close as I felt with Joe at this very moment, I still didn't want to share my feelings for White Bird. They were too personal and I hadn't even talked to him about how I felt.

“You love him. I get that, but there are no guarantees in life. Open your heart and see what fills it,” Joe said. “Help him because it's the right thing to do, not because you want him to feel the same way you do.”

“But I didn't do any of this because…”

Joe didn't let me finish. He put a finger to my mouth and got me to shut up, a trick Mom would have loved to learn.

“You don't have to explain.” He narrowed his eyes. “From what you told me about your vision, both of you are here because you did a selfless thing. You risked your life to save his. That's what brought you back.”

I hadn't thought about how or why we made it back until now. What Joe said gave me goose bumps.

“You're strong, you have good instincts when it comes to people and you have a big heart,” he said. “And if that boy can't see it, then he doesn't deserve to be your friend.”

I took in what he said and let it simmer in my brain. Joe was the first man that I could see as the father I never really had. A part of me was sad that once we got Grams's house sold, we'd go back to North Carolina. I'd miss Joe…and one very special person. But if Mom hadn't dragged my butt here, I never would have met him—or seen White Bird again.

I guess Joe's Zen way of thinking was rubbing off on me.

“So I never heard. What kind of bet did you make with Dr. Ridgeway?” I asked.

“I bet him a dollar,” Joe said with a straight face.

“Oh, big spender.” I laughed. “You sort of had an edge. Why didn't you use it?”

“That would've been too easy. By him betting on that boy, it told me how desperate he was to make things happen, when in actuality there was no amount of money that would have made him take that bet under normal circumstances. He knew he had nothing to lose by letting us try to reach White Bird.” Joe smiled. “That doctor may not have believed in superstition before, but now he's not so sure. I kind of like that.”

“Yeah, me, too.” But after I thought about what he said, I scrunched my face. “So you only bet a buck on me? That wasn't exactly a big show of faith.”

Joe shrugged. “What can I say? You're a rookie.”

We got back to work. And I'd never done so much talking. Joe said that if I kept yammering, I'd find the answer on my own, that he was only a listener. Searching for the answer in my brain was as lame as playing
Where's Waldo.

 

“I thought Derek was coming right over. Where is he?” Chloe peeked through the drapes in her living room one more time.

Jade was getting more edgy, just watching her. And she didn't like it.

“He'll be here. Relax.” She sprawled on a sofa and kept her voice calm, even though that wasn't how she felt.

After talking to Derek about his uncle, Jade had a bad feeling. Ever since Brenna came back to town, things had gone to shit. Now the sheriff might be snooping around. She wasn't worried about the vandalism. The only ones who could point
a finger at her had done the deed. If they talked, they'd be in as much trouble as she was. Messing with Brenna and her mom had been intended as a punishment as well as a distraction. She figured Brenna's mother might step in and stop her daughter from sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

But maybe she'd figured wrong about the Nashes. Until now, Derek had been her safety net, but things had been different since Brenna came back.

“You trashed her grandmother's house, didn't you? You and Derek and his asshole friends,” Chloe mumbled as she stared out the window. She didn't wait to hear what Jade would say. “You shouldn't have done that. That was mean.”

Jade gritted her teeth. Mousy Chloe, the loser, was growing a backbone.

“Oh, shut up! You're pathetic,” she yelled and pushed off the couch. “And you don't know what you're talking about. I had nothing to do with that.”

“Yeah, right.” Chloe laughed. “You're always innocent.”

“And you're predictable. You're a damned follower, Chloe. You always have been.”

“You remind me of Heather. You're even beginning to look like her.” Chloe turned with a strange smile on her face. “Maybe you're possessed. She was too nasty to die and she's taken over your body. You ever think about that?”

“Don't say that. Now who's being mean?” Jade acted hurt. “And quit talking about Heather. She's dead.”

Chloe had been a fellow lab rat when they'd both been subject to Heather's whims and moods and social experiments. But now that she'd stepped into Heather's shoes, Jade saw that Chloe was seriously weak and flawed. When this was over, she would cut her loose and recruit someone new, someone
more worthy. Nothing of Heather's old circle would remain.
Nothing!

“Come to think of it, wasn't it your idea to spy on that cute Indian boy?” Chloe reminded her. “You were a little Heather in the making, even back then, weren't you?”

The bitch wasn't letting it go. And her trip down memory lane was a little twisted.

“I said shut up, Chloe!”

“You should have left Isaac Henry alone. He wasn't hurting anyone. But you had to show Heather that you were worthy, didn't you?” Chloe pushed and got in her face. “So what if Brenna liked him. Why did you have to mess with her, too? She hadn't done anything to you. She wasn't a threat to any of us.”

“Us? You're not one of us. You never were.” Jade lashed out with anything that would sting, but Chloe was on a roll. She wasn't listening.

“You heard someone sold him peyote. And you told Heather he'd be naked in that sweat lodge he was building. You knew she had the hots for him.” Chloe glared. “Hell, she had the hots for
any
guy someone else wanted.”

“So
that's
it.” Jade laughed. “I always wondered if you knew.”