Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 (11 page)

Ruby sighed. “He doesn't let anyone know him, really, not anymore. Not after...”

“My sister died?”

She nodded. “Yes, but it started earlier, when his wife left him, I think, and other things.”

“He told me about his son.”

She started. “Really? I'm surprised. He doesn't ever talk about that. He's very gracious about his ex, Denise,” Ruby said. “He figures he didn't pay enough attention to her, didn't realize she wanted different things out of life. Me, I'm not so gracious. She cheated on my brother and took his son away. If Liam hadn't died so young, I wonder when she would have gotten around to telling Mick he was a father.”

“Does Mick ever talk to her?”

“No. She's moved on with a new life. Mick still goes to the cemetery every month and trims the grass. They have people to do that, of course, but Mick doesn't think they give it the proper marine precision.”

Keeley could picture Mick, in his methodical way, tending to his dead son's grave. It made her want to gather him in her arms and keep him close. She busied herself bundling the clothes instead.

Ruby acted as if she wanted to ask another question, but Keeley was relieved when she didn't.

“Anyway, I'll let you change while I check on Dad. I'll make him tea. Personally, I can't stand tea, but I hear it's therapeutic after a shock.”

In a flash, Keeley remembered all the well-meaning people in her own life who had offered her tea in the wake of the news about LeeAnn's murder.

She remembered John, white-faced, eyes horror-struck, handing her a steaming mug with trembling hands. “How can we live without her?” he'd whispered.

“I don't know” had been her silent reply. She still asked herself the question every morning and somehow, God gave her the strength to live one day. And then the next. It was only lately that she'd begun to live as if there might be a future in store for her and Junie.

Back then, the one thing those cups of tea had accomplished was forcing her to hold on to something solid when everything else in the world disintegrated around her.

Was the same thing happening now? Was the kindness and peace she'd come to know lately dissolving once more into violence?

Lord, please let me protect Junie.

And
, she added,
help Mick to heal.

TWELVE

M
ick was grateful that Ruby kept Keeley busy preparing a pot of soup. It was preventing her from going mad with waiting, he figured, and it freed him from trying to make awkward conversation. He found his gaze returning to the kitchen as she drifted in and out of his line of sight, baggy sweats engulfing her slender legs. His spirit lifted on her delighted tone when she discovered a bread machine in the cupboard. He smiled, thinking about her old broken machine that she'd mended with duct tape. He'd get her a new one, he decided, before he left Silver Creek for good.

“Son?”

Mick realized his father had been speaking to him. “What did you say?”

Perry quirked a lip. “Nothing important. Can you get me my laptop? Let's see what we can find out while we're waiting for the sheriff.”

Mick fetched the laptop, caught by the sound of Keeley's and Ruby's mingled laughter as they peeled carrots and chopped onions.

“You're fond of her, aren't you?”

Mick fumbled the laptop as he handed it over. “Fond? Uh, no. Well, I mean, she's a great woman, but I'm just...” He swallowed. “I'm just helping her out until we find Tucker.”

“Until your debt is paid? So this is just about making amends?”

“Dad, I can't make amends. I'm the reason her sister is dead. You can't undo something like that.”

Perry ran a thumb over his bottom lip, staring at a wedding picture on the mantel. “You know, Mick, I never really understood your mother. She was a city person who loved her beautiful clothes and fine furniture. She could spend hours in an art gallery or at a concert when I'd be looking for the door in five minutes. I loved her madly, but I never understood her, never could believe her strength. To me, she was a mysterious thing, like the arctic tern. How can a four-ounce bird travel some twenty-five thousand miles in a single migration? Your mother was strong like that, too. Incomprehensibly strong.”

Mick listened in silence, hanging on to the words about his mother, who had died from ovarian cancer when he was in grade school.

“Your mom was flighty as a bird, too, but underlying that was a firm and unshakable faith. She would have said guilt is a prison and God puts the key in your hand. All you need to do is take it and let yourself loose.”

“But you don't believe that, do you, Dad?”

“I never figured I needed God.”

Mick held his breath. He'd learned his faith from his mother, and he knew it was an enormous step for his father to be entertaining thoughts of God.

“But, Mick, I'm beginning to rethink some things.”

They let the idea sit there awhile and take root.

“I'm just wondering, son. All these years I've lived apart from God, my sins unforgiven.” He locked eyes on Mick. “And you've known God all this time, and yet you believe your sins are unforgiven, too.”

“Dad...”

“So which is it? Are you forgiven or not?”

A maelstrom of confusion and emotion left him unable to answer.

Perry put his hand over Mick's. “Maybe we both need to take up that key that your mother talked about.”

Mick clasped his father's hand, noting that it was not the same strong palm that he'd known as a boy. The bones and knuckles seemed more delicate now. “I'm confused, Dad.”

“Me, too, son. I wish your mother was here, because she'd know what to say, but I know she'd think I'd finally gotten some sense in my thick head. Maybe yours, too. Can we agree to mull it over in that slow-witted way of ours?”

Mick sighed. “Yes, sir.”

A knock at the door saved Mick from his distress. He opened the door and readmitted Sheriff Pickford. Ruby and Keeley joined them.

“Your entrance road is under a couple of inches of water right now. If it doesn't let up soon, it won't be passable, so I'm gonna make this quick,” the sheriff said, easing his bulk into an armchair. “Who exactly made an identification of these two brothers?”

Keeley leaned forward. “I did. I saw them down there by the embankment.”

“What about you?” Pickford said to Perry. “Did you see their faces?”

“No, they hit me from behind.”

“What difference does it make?” Mick said. “We know it was them.”

Pickford shrugged. “That's the burden of law enforcement. Knowing and proving are two different things.”

True enough. It wasn't long ago that their whole town had believed without a doubt that Ruby's now brother-in-law was responsible for the child abducted on their property. He was guilty of the misjudgment himself. Knowing and proving were really two different animals. “We know their names, their place of work, we had an encounter with them earlier, what more do you need for proof?”

“Something to break their alibi would be nice.”

“What alibi?” Keeley said.

Pickford rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “According to Frank Carter, the owner of the scrap-metal place in Downeyville, Charlie and Bruce were at his shop this morning and stayed there for lunch.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” Mick snapped.

“Tuna fish on rye,” Pickford said, “and some leftover peach pie.”

“Carter is lying.”

“Probably, but it's your word against theirs.”

“I saw them on the sanctuary property,” Keeley said. “Doesn't that count?”

“Would count more if you weren't such a distance away in the middle of a downpour. You could have been mistaken.”

“I wasn't.”

He sighed. “I'm sure you weren't, but we don't have enough to bring them in. That's not to say there won't be an investigation. We've got people out looking for the girl, and Uttley's heading that up.”

Uttley. Was he to be trusted? They were back to that question again.

“Can you do any digging about the brothers?” Perry asked.

Pickford's eyes narrowed, sliding to Mick. “That would be stepping on toes. Do you have reason to believe Chief Uttley can't handle the investigation?”

Mick chose his words carefully. “We have a suspicion that Uttley has a connection to Ginny.”

“The girl who came here to tell you Tucker Rivendale is not a killer.”

Mick saw Keeley flinch. “Yes.”

“We've got nothing on her at this point, but I'll tell you what I'll do,” Pickford said. “I know a couple of retired cops that used to work for the Big Pines department. I'll give them a call. Unofficially. If I hear of anything that might be helpful, I'll pass it your way.”

Mick thanked him. It was the best they could ask for.

He walked the sheriff to the door.

“I'm just gonna say it,” Pickford said. “I'm a cop, and cops trust cops. If Uttley is protecting this girl, he's got a good reason, but there's probably nothing to it at all.”

Mick thanked him again and closed the door.

Nothing to it at all?

Not likely.

* * *

Keeley still stung from the news. Her word wasn't good enough to stand against the alibi of a pair of violent lawbreakers. So much for the justice system. She wanted to get into the truck and go, but Ruby's vegetable soup smelled delectable and Keeley's mouth watered. The morning toast was a distant memory.

The bread machine popped out a perfectly browned loaf of garlic herb bread that begged to be eaten, so Keeley gave in to Ruby's prompting and agreed they should stay for dinner. There was something comforting and cheerful about gathering around the table with the Hudson family.

Aside from Perry's headache, he seemed to be in good spirits. Keeley enjoyed the easy interplay between the man and his children. It made her miss her own mother, Blanche, who had never quite been the same since LeeAnn's death, either. On the few occasions when Keeley had brought Junie to see her, Blanche remained detached, watching the child as if she was a curious stranger rather than her granddaughter. At least her mom seemed happy in her assisted-living facility, with friends who looked in on her and a cousin just across the hall. Keeley faithfully mailed her a loaf of bread every month.

Perry and Mick both put a slice of Keeley's bread in the bottom of their bowls before ladling the chunky soup over the top. They moved in such unison, she found herself laughing.

Mick looked bemused. “What?”

Ruby grinned. “She's noticing that you two have a strange soup ritual. Cooper has commented, too. He says it's like you eat your soup to get to the soggy prize at the bottom.” She checked the time on her phone. “Excuse me for just a minute. I want to catch him while he's on a layover. He would have stayed after he put gas in Ginny's motorbike, but he had to hurry to the airport. He's taking a botany class in New York.” She could not hide the rosy glow that crept into her cheeks, nor the pride in her voice. “It's the first time we'll be separated overnight since we got married.” She left the table to make the call.

Keeley felt an ache in her heart at Ruby's devotion. How would it feel to commit yourself so completely to a man? Then she considered that LeeAnn had done just the same thing. Keeley shot a look at Mick, contemplating how she'd come to trust him in the past few days, how his cheek felt when she'd kissed him.
Forget it, Keeley.
She would not take the risk of allowing any man close enough to divert her attention from the only thing that mattered: Junie.

Perry tapped his spoon absently on the table. “I've been snooping around on the internet. I still have a few connections at my disposal.”

Mick swallowed a spoonful of soup. “Find anything?”

“Nothing recent, but I did some prying into Charlie's and Bruce's pasts.”

Keeley could see he'd unearthed something. “What?”

“Bruce has done jail time for minor stuff, petty theft, drunk and disorderly. He bounced around the country for a while until he hooked up with his brother in Texas a few years back. They were under suspicion for a while, but nothing came of it.”

Mick folded his napkin. “Under suspicion of what?”

“The cops were cracking down on chop shops.”

“Chop shops? Where they take stolen cars?” Keeley asked.

Mick nodded. “It's a very lucrative business. Steal the cars, take them to a garage, where they're stripped for parts and sold. Often they're shipped out of the country, where the rules are less stringent, and it can all be done in hours.”

“They did a raid on the brothers' Texas garage one time, but found nothing,” Perry said. “They're smart, these brothers, and there's nothing to indicate they've been involved in anything here in Oregon.”

“Nothing at all,” Mick said softly.

Nothing at all. Keeley took a steadying breath. “Are you thinking what I am, Mick?”

His eyes flicked over her face. “That Tucker went to jail for auto theft?”

“Uh-huh. That seems like a pretty big coincidence, doesn't it? Charlie, Bruce, Tucker and Ginny may all have some connection to Quick Stop Garage. We have to go to Chief Uttley,” Keeley said. “He can't ignore this now.”

“Agreed. He knows we've filled the sheriff in and that my dad has done some investigating. He won't be able to sweep anything under the rug.”

Finally. A solid lead that might take them straight to Tucker.

They continued their meal in relative quiet until Ruby returned. She realized at once that something had changed while she was gone and demanded to be filled in. The revelation seemed to take away her appetite, and Ruby pushed the soup aside. “This is getting too dangerous. I think you two should stay here until it's under control.”

“I can't.” Keeley balled up her paper napkin. “I have a child to protect.”

“Bring her here,” Ruby insisted. “We'll watch over her and you.”

Keeley saw the earnestness in Ruby's eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “but I need to take care of Junie myself.”

“You can't do it yourself,” Mick said.

Her nerves frayed. “And you can't do it, either.”

An awkward silence settled upon them. “I'm sorry,” Keeley said. “I'm just rattled by everything that's happened, and I want to go back.”

“Of course you do,” Ruby said. “I'm not a mother, so I hope you'll forgive me.”

Keeley squeezed her hand.
Sometimes I feel as if I'm not a mother, either
, she thought.

* * *

An hour after dinner, the storm abated and Mick and Keeley said goodbye to Perry and Ruby. Ruby gave Keeley a hug and did the same for her brother.

“If there's anything...” she said.

“I know, sis.”

Ruby smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from the front of his T-shirt and spoke in a near whisper. “I'll be praying for you—for both of you.”

“We could use all the prayers we can get.” Mick pressed a kiss to her temple and they departed, easing the truck through the pond that had formed near the entrance gate. They encountered stopped traffic on the main road, due to a car accident.

“Wait or take a longer detour?”

She yawned. “I say the detour.”

He looped around and took a mountain road that would get them to the highway eventually. Keeley pulled her jacket around herself. Ruby had insisted on laundering Keeley's soaking clothes so at least they were clean and dry, neatly packed in a paper bag. He flicked on the heater and adjusted the vent in her direction.

She yawned again. “You have a nice family.”

“Thank you. They're good people.”

“And you're good people, too,” she said sleepily.

“Wish my wife had agreed with you.” He couldn't believe he'd just uttered those words. What was the matter with him? He fiddled with the heating vent again.

“Your sister talked about her a little.”

Great.
“She's hard on Denise.”

“She thinks you shoulder too much of the blame.”

“Oh, man.” He sighed. “Fact is, I'm a plain guy. I mean, there are eagles and falcons and such, but I'm more of a condor. You know, awkward looking, strong. Not the fancy birds that get their pictures on postcards and advertisements.”