A Deadly Reunion (14 page)

I didn’t catch sight of Denver through the
confusion and mess, and soon found myself sitting on the edge of my
bed, staring warily at the walls while listening intently to every
scrap of conversation that filtered through them.

Something huge must have happened to elicit
this much attention. But what?

Not for the first time, I found myself
shaking as I clamped my teeth hard together.

I can’t tell you how long I stayed there
waiting for a knock on the door or at the very least a phone call
from Denver.

As the night settled in cold and dark, I
didn’t dare turn on a light. I just sat there on my bed and I
waited for someone to tell me what in the holy hell was going on in
this town.

I woke to someone knocking insistently on my
door.

A bleary-eyed mess, it took me a moment to
shake myself from the confusion of sleep.

Then I remembered.

Mouth dry and head pounding with confusion
and dregs of fear and panic, I pushed myself up.

“Denver?” I snapped as I made it to the
door, pulling it open with a desperate tug.

“No, Thorne, actually.” Thorne Scott stood
there, one hand still raised from where he’d been knocking on the
door. “I thought I would just come and check to see how you
are.”

I stared at him mutely.

How I was?

Confused, deeply shocked, and just a little
shattered. I had no idea what was going on, and it felt far more
isolating and dangerous than knowing there was a murderer on my
tail.

“
What’s... happening here?” I
managed.

“
Look, there’s been an... incident. But
we’re dealing with it.”

“What happened in Nancy’s room? What did you
find?”

“I can’t share the details of the
investigation—”

“Fuck the investigation. I need to know
what’s going on here, now. People keep being murdered. What the
hell is happening in this town?”

“Patti,” half-whispering, Thorne checked
over his shoulder before pushing the door open slightly. He looked
like he wanted to come inside so he could continue the conversation
in private.

I just stood there though, ramrod straight
and staring at him with a fear-laced and yet determined expression.
“Thorne, what is going on?”

He had to tell me something, anything. I
couldn’t just stay here in my motel room, waiting around for the
next murder as I twiddled my thumbs or coiffed my hair.

“I can’t share the details of this
investigation,” he said again, voice stronger this time, “but we’re
doing everything we can.”

“I’ve got to leave,” I said firmly.

“What?”

“I’ve got to get out of this goddamn town.”
I turned sharply on my foot as the conclusion pounded down with the
sure blow of a hammer.

“We need to question everyone in the motel.”
Thorne now walked into the room and closed the door gently behind
him. “Patti, I understand you’re scared, but—”

“Scared? Really? You think I’m just scared?
I’m beside myself. Someone put a postcard in my room with a
threatening message on it—”

“Look, I already told you it’s highly
unlikely that’s related to this case. It’s probably just a couple
of kids acting up.”

“Not related to the case?” I spat back,
dumbfounded. “Doesn’t it mean I’m next?”

“
None of the... victims have received
threats like yours.” He shook his head.

“So what was in Nancy’s room then?”

Letting out a tight, disbelieving gasp, he
shook his head all the harder. “Something else.”

“What? I know you can’t share the details of
the case with me, but, Thorne, I’m going insane here.”

“Just trust me, nobody is after you. And I’m
doing—”

“Everything you can,” I finished for
him.

Then I stopped. I stopped pacing the room, I
stopped berating Thorne, and I stopped staring at my bathroom and
waiting for the murderer to jump out of the shower.

He watched me in silence for a moment. “I’m
sorry.”

“For what?” I looked up.

“
That your trip back to Wetlake coincided
with... this. Whatever this is. It’s really a nice place, and the
folk here are charming and down to earth.”

I wanted to add they were so down to earth
that they were willing to stick you six feet under it, but I held
my tongue.

“Right, I should let you get some rest.
You’ll be contacted sometime in the morning to give your
statement.” Thorne rammed his hands in his pockets as he shrugged
towards the door.

“I won’t be here,” I stuttered quickly.

“Sorry? You need to give your statement. You
can leave after that.”

“Can’t I give my statement now? I don’t want
to stay here another minute.”

“Patti, it’s two in the morning. It’s dark
outside. And at this time, the roads are covered with animals. It’s
not safe. You’ve had a long day. Drowsiness can kill. Just wait
until the morning.”

Everything he said made sense.

I didn’t want to hear sense right now
though.

Stalking over to my suitcase, I started to
finish packing.

“Hey, I would be negligent if I let you
drive like this.” He walked up behind me and kind of hovered there,
clearly not wanting to do something brash like grabbing me, yet
still wanting to stop my frantic packing.

“Weather conditions can change quickly on
some of the higher roads. If you aren’t prepared and you aren’t
rested, it’s god darn easy to crash. Trust me; I’ve attended more
accidents than I ever want to remember. Patti, just calm down.”

I wanted to throw something at him, but I
restrained myself. “I can’t stay here.”

“Fine, but I’m telling you, I’m not going to
let you go either. You can leave in the morning.”

“I’ll just sleep in my car then,” I
concluded angrily.

“We can find you someplace else to
stay.”

“As you already pointed out, it’s two in the
fucking morning. And this is Wetlake. Everywhere is booked out, and
no one is going to be staffing a lobby at this time in the morning.
So I will sleep in my car.”

“
Hey, that’s not an option. Okay... look...
you can...” he began.

I looked up sharply.

“I have a spare room,” he hazarded
awkwardly. “I have to go back to work, but you can have free reign
of my house if you want to.”

I didn’t want to stay here; I couldn’t stay
in this motel a second longer, let alone for another night. But
could I really take Thorne up on his offer and go back to his
house? It didn’t matter if he wouldn’t be there; it would be a
terribly personal and familiar move to accept the invite.

I’d just met the man again for the first
time in years.

Did I really have any other option
though?

“You can leave in the morning after you’ve
given your statement,” he repeated once more.

I nodded.

He let a trapped breath through his teeth.
Then he took a brief moment to push his fingers hard into his
crumpled brow.

He looked tired and very, very stressed
out.

A little of my hardened anger began to
melt.

I wasn’t the only one wrapped up in this
situation. And while I was dealing with the stress of figuring out
if I was next in line for the killer’s devoted attention, Thorne
had to deal with the responsibility of stopping this before another
body wound up under the rose bushes.

“
I am... sorry,” I managed, “sorry for
being so stressed out and irascible. This must have been a really
terrible night for you.”

“Yeah, with one thing and another, I missed
dinner.” He pressed his lips together, his chin dimpling in the
world’s smallest smile.

“So did I.” I returned the world’s smallest
smile.

“You want to grab your stuff? You can follow
me in your car, and I’ll lead you back to my house. Like I said, I
can’t stay long though.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Thorne. And
sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Patti. You
just need to keep safe and get some rest.”

I let my smile deepen at that.

His tone was genuine and the look he matched
it with was about as honest as they came.

I’d been too hard on this guy, hadn’t I?
Just like his brother, I’d been too quick to write him off when
he’d done something I hadn’t liked.

We were all stressed, and I had to start
taking account of that.

I finished packing quickly and then dragged
my luggage out to my car. Offering the darkened motel a final look,
I wondered whether I should go and find Denver to tell him where I
was going and that I was okay.

Yet I doubted he would be in. Denver would
be out trying to get to the bottom of this case – or maybe he would
be in the pub trying to drown out whatever he’d seen in Nancy’s
room.

Imagination driving me wild, I followed
Thorne’s car as he led me slowly through the dark night.

I drove mechanically with just enough
attention saved for the road and his taillights so I didn’t crash.
The rest of me ran over the day’s events obsessively.

First the postcard on my toilet, then the
murder of Hank Reaver, and now whatever had been in Nancy’s room.
It all had to be connected, right? Though I didn’t know what Nancy
had found, it just had to be something grisly, didn’t it? I’d seen
how ashen Denver’s face had turned, and he did not seem like the
kind of guy to lose his stomach over a mere splatter of blood or
the sight of a lifeless corpse.

“Come on, think,” I mumbled to myself.

I wanted to figure this all out, but I had
to face facts: I didn’t know enough even to begin to try.

All too soon, I saw Thorne pull his car up a
long driveway, and I turned in behind him. He led me up to a small
but charming log cabin with dark firs and pine trees that hemmed it
in from all sides. The grass along the path was long and untrimmed,
and what had once undoubtedly been a garden was now a collection of
rampant ivy and a few scant bushes.

Thorne was obviously not one for property
maintenance.

“Sorry about the yard,” he muttered as he
waved a hand up and activated the outside light, “that’s the
problem about living out in the wilds; there ain’t that much you
can do to keep it at bay.”

The wilds. I hadn’t ever thought of Wetlake
as being wild. Boring, yes, and terribly, terribly pedestrian and
drab.

Now as I walked through the shadows and up
to Thorne’s door, I took a moment to pause and take in the view.
There was a gap between the dark spruces to my left, and it led
down to a dramatic view of the mountain ranges beyond. Touched with
the silver and ghostly white of a half-moon, they looked rugged and
yes, wild.

Drawing in a deep breath, I smelt the damp
of rain and the dank earthiness of the forest around me.

Lingering there, I heard the call of
animals.

It made me shiver.

“It’s an incredible view; it’s why I bought
this place. It’s cold as hell in winter – most of the year, in fact
– but you can see for miles and miles. You don’t get a place like
this in the city.” Thorne wrestled with his keys in the front door
and then shouldered it open. “Okay, I have to warn you, I’m a
single guy living alone, and the place is a tip. If you kick the
old videos and papers off the bed in the spare room, you’ll be fine
though. Sorry I can’t come in to give you a hand, but I have to get
back to the station.”

I nodded at him. “Thank you,” I gave a
croaky whisper as he shifted past me.

Still facing me as he walked backwards, he
gave a low nod. “I’ll see you in the morning. If you need to
contact me, just call the local station.”

I nodded, pushing my loose hair behind my
ears.

“
I’ll be back around seven-ish. Have... a
good night,” he coughed awkwardly then turned and left.

I watched him go. I even waited there on his
over-grown path until I heard his car scrape over the driveway
until it reached the main road far below.

The night air was still fresh, and the
forest behind was still dark and dense with the call of animals and
insects.

If I’d been feeling in a braver mood, maybe
I would have stood there staring at that thin slit of a view
through the break in the spruces and pines. Yet as another call
split the air, I shivered and rushed inside.

Closing the door behind myself with a gentle
and hesitant move, I turned to survey Thorne Scott’s house.

It was a tip, but perhaps not a deliberate
one. It wasn’t full of rubbish or junk – just stuff, and lots of
it.

There were boots, jackets, tools, and boxes
of wood for the winter. Amongst all the mounds and piles was a
kitchen though, and beyond that a small lounge room. A very worn
and dark-brown leather couch was turned towards a set of large
windows.

The view was breathtaking.

The house was raised up on stilts on this
side, and the windows looked right out over some short firs and
into the mountain ranges beyond.

The still and dark beauty of the scene was
different to the city; Thorne was entirely right about that.

I walked over to the couch and sat down.

The house was cold, but I just wrapped my
arms closely around my middle and kept on staring out of the
windows.

Eyes wide, I can’t tell you how long I sat
there like that.

Eventually I lay down, pulling a threadbare,
crochet pillow under my head and closing my eyes.

From threats to murders to interrupted
trysts with the Scott boys, my day had been viciously harsh.

Closing my eyes to that startling and rugged
view, I couldn’t deny Wetlake had changed.

Dangerous, confusing, and beyond wild.

I woke to the smell of eggs and dill.

My stomach rumbling in anticipation before
I’d even blinked my eyes open, I sat up.