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Authors: Colleen Coble

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Cry in the Night (5 page)

BOOK: Cry in the Night
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When she reached her vehicle, she realized she’d left her notebook on her chair, where she’d laid it while she slipped on her coat. She hurried back through the parking lot to the building and stepped inside. The receptionist waved her back when she explained.

Lauri hoped Mrs. Saunders had left the conference room. The last thing she wanted to do was bother the upset woman.

Good, the lights were out. She flipped on the light in the room and grabbed her notebook. Shutting off the light again, she approached another door and heard the murmur of conversation. As she neared the room, she realized two men were arguing.

“You won’t get away with this.”

Was that the voice of the man who had come in to see Mrs. Saunders? It sounded like it. Curiosity getting the better of her, Lauri glanced through the sidelight of the door and saw her boss’s husband.

Lauri reared back as steps came nearer to the door. If they thought she’d been eavesdropping, she might lose her job as quickly as she’d found it. She glanced around for somewhere to hide and tried the closest door, one she’d already passed. Locked.

Putting on a smile, she walked briskly toward the door that was opening. A slim man with a bent nose stepped out. He was dressed in pressed black slacks, a leather jacket, and expensive shoes. She nodded and smiled and kept on going. She caught his suspicious stare as she passed, but he said nothing and continued to stand in the doorway.

She escaped down the elevator and gained the sanctuary of her car. She told herself to keep her nose out of her boss’s business. Do her job and curb that curiosity.

5

THE WIND BIT THROUGH BREE’S JEANS AS SHE STOOD ON the stoop of Florence’s porch. She pressed her finger to the doorbell button and heard the peal from inside the house, but there were no sounds from inside, though Florence’s car was parked in the drive. Bree rang the bell again, then decided to check the back when no one answered.

Slogging through the high drifts, she made her way around the side of the cottage to the tiny backyard, where she saw Florence’s prize-winning roses covered in winter mulch. And Florence lay stretched in front of them.

“Florence!” Bree leaped to the woman’s side. Florence didn’t respond to Bree’s touch on her arm, but her head lolled to the side and the movement revealed matted blood in her hair.

Bree quickly called for an ambulance on her cell phone, then put it away and touched Florence’s cheek. It was cold. Too cold. Her fear mounting, Bree pressed her fingers to Florence’s wrist. There was only the barest flutter of a pulse. “Hang on, Florence,” she muttered.

She needed to get her warm. Bree took off her coat and tucked it around the injured woman. The wind dove down Bree’s back and poked icy fingers through her sweater. She shivered and her gaze roamed the yard. Someone had attacked Florence. That someone might still be around.

The snow around the fallen woman was trampled with footprints. A dusting of pipe tobacco darkened the snow. Bree knew better than to touch it. The steps led off toward the pond and the woods. Her gaze followed the prints and landed on a figure.

Victor Pelton stood in the shelter of barren trees. He swayed where he stood. Bree thought he might have been muttering, but the wind snatched away his words.

She motioned to him. “Victor, come here. Miss Florence needs help.”

At first he only stared at her, but when she motioned again, he moved toward her, shuffling his booted feet through the snow clogging the path. When he neared, she saw he clutched a paper in one hand. Her gaze went to the other, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw what he held. A bloody shovel.

He stared at her boots. “You have to get the baby, Miss Bree.”

For a long moment, she thought he could read her mind—that he knew how she longed for a baby. Then he thrust the paper into her hand. Sudoku? He was out here working sudoku? “What baby?” she asked, her gaze on the shovel. Had he killed Florence? She couldn’t wrap her mind around the possibility.

His stare went past her feet to where Florence lay. He backed away with his hands hiding his eyes. “The windigo is after the baby.” He turned and bolted toward the woods.

Kade glanced at his watch when Mason dropped him back at the ranger station. Just enough time to get Dave, then meet Bree at home for dinner. When he pulled up in front of Naomi’s house, she came flying out the door, pulling on her coat as she ran. Her face was as pale as the snow.

He got out of the truck and met her halfway up the walk. The wind blew the snow into eddies across the shoveled sidewalk. “What’s wrong?”

She seized Kade’s arm with both hands as though she needed steadying. “Kade, someone tried to grab Dave just now.”

The blood drained from his head to his feet. He stared down into her eyes, and the desperation he saw there convinced him this was no joke. “Is he all right?” He started toward the house, but she tugged him back.

“He’s fine. Samson drove the guy away.”

Thank God for that dog. The Lord had used Samson more than once. “What happened?”

She gestured to snow bricks. “The kids were making a snow fort. I heard Samson barking. I ran to the back door, and this guy was right there in the yard with him. He had Dave over his shoulder and was heading to the gate. Samson was blocking the gate and still barking. He moved to block the guy every time he tried to get around the dog. I screamed and ran outside with a baseball bat. He saw me and dropped Dave, then ran past Samson and out the gate to a car.”

“Did you get Bree?”

She shook her head. “I called Mason first. He’s on his way over here. I was about to call Bree.”

Bree would freak. And truth be told, he was freaking himself a little. Then what Naomi said soaked in. “I’d better call her.”

Naomi’s gaze went over his shoulder. “There’s Mason.”

Kade turned to see the sheriff jump out of his SUV and stride up the walk. What had almost happened here? A pedophile in Rock Harbor? Or something related to what Dave said he saw in the woods?

Mason reached them. “Dave okay?”

Naomi nodded. “Shook up. He’s having cookies and milk with my kids. Samson saved the day.”

Kade was going to stop on the way home and get the dog a steak. “I’d better go talk to him, reassure him.”

Mason took Naomi’s arm, and they fell into step with Kade back to the house. “I need a description of the attacker.”

Naomi held open the door for them. “I didn’t see his face. He wore a bulky goose-down coat and had the collar pulled up. He had on a ski mask, I think. He kept his head turned away.”

“What about his car?” Mason’s voice was full of resignation.

“A black truck,” Naomi said.

Black truck. That was a world of vehicles out there. “Maybe Dave will remember something,” Kade said. “But go gentle with him.”

Mason walked through the living room to the kitchen. The aroma of chocolate-chip cookies would have made Kade’s mouth water under other circumstances. He hurried to see his boy. The thought of someone evil putting his hands on Dave made him want to break a chair over the guy’s head.

“Dad!” Dave saw him and jumped up from the table. He knocked over his glass of milk, and it ran onto the floor where Samson was happy to clean it up. Dave leaped into Kade’s arms.

Kade held him close. Cold air and cookies clung to his boy’s hair and clothes. “Are you okay?”

Dave buried his face in Kade’s neck and spoke against his collar. “The guy was big, Dad. Like a house. Maybe it was the windigo.”

“If it were a windigo, Samson couldn’t have scared him off,”

Kade said, holding the boy tight.

At the sound of his name, Samson lifted his head from the milk on the floor. “You’re a good dog, Samson.” The dog’s tail began to wag, and he came to Kade and pushed his nose against his hand. Kade rubbed his head.

Naomi scooped up Matthew from the high chair. The toddler was a chocolate mess. Emily and Timmy were both wide-eyed at the table.

“Hey, buddy,” Mason said, touching his nephew on the arm. “Did you see anything that might help me catch this guy?”

Dave lifted his head from Kade’s shoulder. “His coat was black. And he smelled like Juicy Fruit gum. My daddy used to give me Juicy Fruit so I know what it smells like.” He leaned closer and whispered in Mason’s ear. “It was the same windigo I saw put the baby in the snow. I recognized his coat.”

“I’d like to hear more about that,” Mason said, his voice calm. “Was he as tall as your dad here or more like my size?”

“He was tall like Dad. Only skinnier, I think. It was hard to tell with that coat. And he had on a ski mask. It was red.”

“You’re going to make a good detective like your mom,” Mason said. He roughed the boy’s head. “Anything else, Davy?”

“Don’t call me Davy,” the boy said under his breath.

“Sorry, buddy,” Mason said. “I’ll try to remember next time. Anything else?”

Dave shook his head.

Mason put away his pad of paper. “You’ve been a big help. Make sure you don’t go outside without an adult, okay? I’ll see if we can find this guy.”

“Khaki pants,” Naomi put in. “I just remembered.”

Mason scribbled it in his notebook. “Any letters or numbers from the license plate?”

“It didn’t have a license plate,” Dave said. “I looked so I could tell you.”

Mason raised his brows. “So the guy had this planned,” he muttered. “Did he say anything?”

“He yelled, ‘Sam, get back!’ ” the boy said. “And he kicked at him.”

“So he knew Samson’s name.” The hair on the back of Kade’s neck stood at attention. Had the guy been watching his family?

“I guess.” Dave kept his arms locked around Kade’s neck. “I want to see Mom.”

“We’ll go in a minute.”

The color was beginning to come back to the boy’s face. Kade set him on the floor. “Go get your stuff and we’ll head home.” He waited until Dave reluctantly walked away to start packing his backpack with Timmy’s help. “You’ve got to find this guy, Mason. If he knows the dog’s name, he’s been watching the house. This wasn’t a random grab by a pedophile.”

“I’m going to have a deputy drive by your place every couple of hours,” Mason said. “We’ll be looking for him.”

That wasn’t good enough, but Kade knew it was the best the sheriff could do. Protecting his family was going to be up to him. He and Bree would have to be vigilant. Dave wouldn’t be allowed outside without an adult.

“What about the baby incident?” he asked. “Maybe it’s related. Dave might have actually seen something. Victor too.”

Mason’s mouth turned grim. “I need to bring Victor in for questioning anyway. I was on my way to find him when you called. Bree found Florence Hawkins unconscious in the yard, and she died before she was transported to the hospital. Victor had a bloody shovel in his hand.”

Kade needed to get to his wife. She’d be upset. “I can’t see Victor being violent.”

“Me neither, but I have to go with the evidence, and he was likely holding the murder weapon.”

“You’ve got a description of the guy Dave saw. See if you can get a reaction from Victor when you talk to him.”

Mason nodded and headed for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

Kade thanked Naomi, grabbed Dave’s backpack, then herded the boy out to the truck. “Buckle your seat belt,” he told him. He needed to tell Bree about what happened, but maybe it would be better in person, where she could see Dave was all right.

Dave turned his green eyes in Kade’s direction. “Dad, I’m not a baby. I know.”

The boy was growing up too fast. Nearly eight already. Where had the time gone? Samson nuzzled at Kade’s ear as though he sensed his pain and commiserated.

“You deserve a steak dinner, big guy,” he said, rubbing Samson’s ears again. “Such a good boy,” he crooned to the dog’s obvious delight.

“Can we stop and buy him something special?” Dave said. “I’d have been a goner if Sam hadn’t been there.”

Thinking about what might have happened hurt too much. “The butcher might have a nice big bone for him. He’d like that.” And it would be free.

Bree’s eyes burned, but she dammed back the swelling lake. Florence was dead by the time the EMT arrived. She didn’t know how she was going to tell Davy. After telling the deputy all she’d seen, she bolted. She expected Mason to be along with questions shortly. And he would want to talk to Victor for sure.

BOOK: Cry in the Night
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