Leave a Trail (8 page)

She went for a cup of coffee. “You, too.”

“No—I’m up late on a Saturday.”

“Should you be drinking coffee, then? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She sat down carefully, making sure not to look uncomfortable.

“No rest for the wicked. You got plans today?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Thought I’d drive out a little and take some pictures, then go over to the B&B and see if Shannon needs help with the wedding party checking out.” With a laugh, she added, “Make myself useful.”

She needed to stay busy. Helping out all day yesterday at the B&B, and then spending the evening with Shannon, and later Show, had been a huge help for keeping her head busy. Left to its own devices, it was getting up to lots of trouble. She was more confused about Badger than ever. And she was worried, too. Something was really wrong with him, and she didn’t know what to do.

On one hand, she was almost guiltily glad he was so clearly screwed up, because maybe it meant that his feelings for her actually hadn’t changed. Maybe they were still friends, and it was just that there was some outside thing between them. She wished she knew what happened in the fall and whether, or how, Badger was involved in it. That strange phone call a few weeks ago hadn’t given her any information. He was worried that she’d expose his secret, but she didn’t even know what that secret might be. All she had was worry. And hurt. A lot of hurt.

She looked across the table at Showdown, so huge and scary-looking, but so kind. She thought of the scars she’d seen that day in January, scars that had turned his back into a mosaic.

“Show, can I ask you something?” Her voice cracked on the last syllable, and she swallowed.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“What—um, what happened to your back?”

Something happened to his face as she finished her question. It
shuttered
—that was the best word she had for the way he closed up without anything really changing about the way he looked at her.

“Nothing to worry yourself about. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“I’m
fine
, Adrienne.” His tone so completely ended that line of inquiry that Adrienne was left speechless. She’d been about to share her worry about Badger. But in the hesitation Show had forced on her, she understood that she’d been about the break her promise to him, even if she didn’t fully understand that promise.

She was so confused. Really, really confused. Maybe it had been stupid to come back to Signal Bend so soon. Maybe she’d spent most of the last few years building up an image of Badger that was mostly fantasy.

But no. That didn’t make sense. He’d been a totally different person for years. Sweet. Shy. Funny. Kind. Her best friend. She
knew
him. Something was up. Something was wrong.

And the way he’d kissed her yesterday—before he’d thrown her down. He’d done it to be mean, she thought. But then it had changed. She felt it in the way his arms shook when he held her. In the way his mouth had moved on hers. In the way he pressed against her.

She wasn’t naïve. Well, she was, kind of, for her age, but she’d had a few boyfriends. She knew what it felt like when somebody wanted her. That’s what it had felt like yesterday. Until he’d knocked her down.

Show’s deep, quiet voice brought her back to the moment. “Got a big favor, if you’re up for it.”

With a shake of her head to clear away the tangles of thought she’d been snared in, she smiled. “Sure. Shoot.”

“Shannon’s feeling low today. You think you could start your day at the B&B, just see if there’s anything going on? If she calls, Vicki’ll just say everything’s good, whether it is or not. And Beth won’t answer the phone when she’s cooking.”

“Um, sure. I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell if anything’s wrong.”

“You will. If there is, call me. I scare Vicki a little, or I’d go myself.”

Having finished her coffee, and now with a to-do list, she got up, ignoring the pain in her tailbone, and rinsed her cup in the sink. “I can’t believe that. Who’d be scared of you?”

“Hey! Careful, little one. I’m dangerous.”

“Yep. Sure, you are.” She kissed his bearded cheek and headed up to get ready for her newly busy day.

~oOo~

She parked next to Badger’s bike—looked like he was having an early day, too. None of the animals were out, yet, though, so he must have only just gotten there. For a second or two, Adrienne stood next to her car, tempted to go down to the barn and say hi. Try again. But then the scene from the day before played quickly through her head. No. At a minimum, she needed to give him space. At a maximum, he didn’t want her around at all, and she could get hurt again. Either way, she turned and headed into the main house. She heard Weasel barking in the barn as she opened the front door, and figured Badger would be leading the animals out any minute.

She liked the B&B early in the morning, when the dining room was being set up for breakfast. It felt like she was behind the scenes. She supposed she was, a little, even though everything was right up front. It gave her a warm feeling, though, to be even a little part of the workings of the place. To have permission, for instance, to go back to the kitchen.

Which she did now.

Beth and Connie were shuttling about, preparing the morning feast Beth had planned. It smelled fantastic, whatever it was.

“Hey, cutie! You’re back early.” Beth smiled as Adrienne walked over to see what was cooking. Though Beth was bossy and often severe, she always seemed to have a smile for her. The cook nodded at Adrienne’s outfit—a flowing rayon skirt and a long sweater, with her ballet flats. “And you look like you’re working.”

Really, Adrienne just liked to wear skirts, but she
had
dressed with the idea that she might be helping guests this morning. “Yeah—Shannon’s under the weather this morning. I think she’ll be in later, though.”

“That girl is having trouble with this baby, no mistake. Comes from trying to do a young woman’s work too late, I say.”

Adrienne didn’t respond; she didn’t have an opinion about Shannon deciding to have a baby at forty-two. Or, forty-three, really, by the time the baby came. She did, however, have curiosity about why. But that wasn’t something she had any intention of sharing with Beth.

“Whatcha making?” A much safer topic of discussion.

“Strawberry fritters with chocolate sauce.”

“Oh, my God. That sounds amazing.”

“Oh, it is.” Beth nodded to a tray on the counter behind her. “One. Only one.”

“Thank you!” Adrienne took a fritter from the tray, poured herself a cup of Beth’s famous coffee, and found a corner to stay out of the way while she ate.

~oOo~

Afterward, when the breakfast rush was really underway, and Adrienne felt really underfoot, she went out onto the front porch for a minute of cool, fresh, country morning air. She’d seen a lot of the world—most of Europe, Asia, and the Caribbean, anyway—and had seen some beautiful things. An ocean so clear and blue it would have been hard to believe it was real if she hadn’t been standing in it. Sunrise glinting on Alpine snowcaps. Rolling acres of French vineyards. Seongsan Sunrise Peak. Buildings and neighborhoods and people and flora and fauna that awed and amazed her. But there was something about this place—humble as it was—that she found calming. The varied greens of the grass, fields, forest. The bright white of the fences and the gravel drive, the vivid red of the barn. The light dappling of morning mist still clinging to the ground.

The sounds of the goats bleating and the dog barking and the horses fussing…

They were all still in the barn.

More curious about why Badger hadn’t put them out yet than worried about the reception she’d receive, Adrienne stepped off the porch and crossed down the drive to the barn. She pulled the door open; it was dark.

Standing half in the gloom, her hands still wrapped around the door pull, she looked back to make sure it was Badger’s bike she’d parked next to. Yes. Of course it was.

Weasel barked again and ran up to her, his tail wagging.

“Hey, boy.” She ruffled his ear. “Badge? Are you in here?”

No response but the whinny of one of the horses and the knock of a hoof against a stall door. “Badge?”

Weasel ran halfway down the aisle and stopped to look back at her. She had a weird sense that he was trying to tell her something, so she followed, pushing the door all the way open first. It was dark in here, and she didn’t know where the lights were.

As she headed down the aisle, Weasel ran to the open office door, then turned around and barked at her. He was definitely trying to tell her something. Now she felt a surge of anxiety, and she trotted the rest of the way. She pulled up short as she got to the door.

Badger was there. Sitting in his chair. Not sitting—passed out. He looked—God, he looked terrible. He was black and blue everywhere, and his face was misshapen, one eye swollen half shut, with several stitches through his eyebrow. But that wasn’t the worst part. Worst was how pale he was under the bruising, and the slack look of his face, his mouth open and lightly scummed with foamy saliva.

There was some kind of grainy dust on the surface of his desk, and a rolled bill in the middle of it. Though that kind of stuff was several miles from her scene, she knew what it meant. The colors began to fill in on her heretofore incomplete image of the past few months with Badger.

“Badge! Oh, my God.” She ran to him and shook him, grabbing the leather of his kutte in her fists and trying to lift him, make him sit up, wake up. “Badger! Badge, please! Justin!” She didn’t know why she’d used his real name; she never used his real name—in fact, he’d told her it
wasn’t
his real name, that ‘Badger’ was. ‘Justin,’ he said, was his birth name. But he stirred a little when she did, his eyes fluttering a couple of times. He took a breath—she wasn’t sure he’d been breathing.

And then he slid off the chair to the floor. Adrienne still had him by the kutte, but she was no match for his dead weight, and she lost her grip as he landed hard on the concrete floor.

He struck his head on the base of his chair—and that somehow managed to rouse him.

“Huh? What? What?” He blinked and opened his eyes, taking another, deeper breath. Adrienne could see color returning under his bruises. She dropped to her knees and hugged him.

“Oh, thank God. Oh, thank
God
, Badge. I’m—hold on. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get help.” As she began to stand, he grabbed her arms with both hands—his grip was cruelly strong despite his condition, and she cried out.

“No!” he hissed. “No! No help!”

“Badge, you’re sick! I have to get help!” She pried herself free and got up. She got out of his office and had started to run when she was yanked backwards by her hair. She screamed in shock and pain. Weasel was barking like crazy, and the horses were starting to yell, too. She had a millisecond to wonder if they could hear the commotion inside the house.

“NO HELP!” Badger had her by the hair, his face—looking like someone else completely, some madman—right in hers, so close that she felt a spray of spittle hit her face as he yelled. She could see in his eyes how sick and weak he was, but still he was strong in his fury or fear or whatever it was. “YOU’RE GONNA GET ME KILLED, YOU STUPID BITCH!”

That was worse than any of it, hearing him call her that, yell at her like that.

But then he hit her in the face, and that was the worst thing.

He let her go, and she fell to the floor, hurting her tailbone all over again. But that didn’t even matter. The acrid taste of copper filled her mouth, and she put her hand up and touched her lips. When she brought her fingers back to see, they were wet and red. He’d split her lip. She’d never been hit ever, by anyone ever, and within the past twenty-four hours, the man she wanted to love had hurt her twice.

As that understanding rolled over her, she realized that he had left her alone. She looked up to see Show, his massive hand around Badger’s neck, holding him against the wall, his feet off the ground. Badger’s fingers clutched ineffectually at Show’s hand.

Show pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back. “You’re right, motherfucker. I am going to kill you. Right now.” Adrienne had never heard Show sound like that—his normally deep, soft voice was sharp and thick with menace. It was terrifying, and she knew for a certainty that he intended to kill Badger. Right there, right then. Badger did, too. His eyes were bugged, and his skin was going ashy. His bruises had darkened almost to black, and the cut through his eyebrow was seeping blood. Show was killing him right in front of her.

“Show, wait!” Adrienne stood and put her hand on Show’s arm. “Please don’t. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” He glanced at her mouth, and she wiped the fresh blood away.

“Please, Show. He’s sick. He didn’t mean it. I know. He’s…I found him passed out in the office. There’s, like, drug stuff in there. I think he’s sick.”

Badger fought harder as she talked, and she knew that, even in the situation he was in, he was distressed that she was telling Show what she was.

This was his secret. This was the thing he’d thought she knew. She should have known. She was stupid to have missed it.

“He’s sick. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

That shuttering thing happened to Show’s face again, and he gave her a long look. Badger’s fight was fading. “Show. Please,” she whispered.

He put Badger down but didn’t remove his hand. He loosened it, though, and Badger took a rough breath.

“You bitch,” he gasped. You fuckin’ ruined everything. You bitch.”

Show drove his fist into Badger’s face, and he didn’t call her that anymore. Unconscious, he fell to the floor when Show released his hand from around his throat.

Show nodded to the tack room behind Adrienne. “In there, on the second shelf from the bottom. There’s a plastic box full of zip-ties. You know what they are?”

She nodded.

“Good. Bring me two of the long, black ones.” He pulled his phone out as she did what he asked. As she filed through the different sizes and colors of ties, she heard him call Isaac. “Boss, got trouble…No. Badge. He’s off the rails, and I about killed the fucker right now…I know…yeah. I’ll bring him in the van here….B&B…He hurt Adrienne, Isaac. You need to be there when we get there. I need to get him off my hands before…no, I got it. Fifteen.”