Nightingale Way: An Eternity Springs Novel (7 page)

He switched off the engine and opened the car door. Bitter cold air swirled around him as he removed his duffel from the car. His footsteps crunched on two inches of fresh snow as he walked toward his front door, frowning when his shoe hit a slick spot and slipped. The ice on the sidewalk had been there awhile. Had the teenager he’d hired failed to show up to do the shoveling? He needed to remember to ask Cat about that
.

He slipped his key into the lock and opened the door. Stepping inside, he called, “Cat? Honey, I’m home.”

No answer
.

He set down his bag and hung his coat on a rack, then
walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and headed upstairs to take a long, hot shower
.

He flipped on the lights in the master bedroom and stopped abruptly. Cat was curled beneath an afghan in the easy chair that sat beside the window overlooking their backyard. “Hey, darlin’. Guess you didn’t hear me come home. Were you sleeping?”

She stared at him without speaking and Jack finally realized that something was wrong. Her eyes were sunken and she was as pale as the snowfall. “Cat? What’s wrong?”

When she still didn’t reply, he set down his beer on the dresser and crossed the room to her. “Cat?”

His body tensed as wordlessly she handed him a slip of paper. Glancing down, he frowned. “Angel Land, row 28, place 14? What’s this?”

“The location where Lauren is buried.”

Lauren? Who is Lauren?
The answer came like a punch to the gut. Lauren was the name they’d been considering if the baby turned out to be a girl. “You miscarried?”

The flash of temper in her eyes was the first sign of emotion he’d seen. “I gave birth to my baby.”

He sank down onto the bed
.

“I buried my baby.”

“Oh, Cat.”

“Alone. I did it all alone.”

Alone. Years later, Jack could pinpoint that moment as the one when he began to believe that his marriage wouldn’t make it. In response to Gabe’s question, he said, “Our divorce was final four years ago.”

Jack could see Gabe thinking, tracking time backward, until he gave his head a slight shake. “I never would have guessed you were going through a rough patch of your own during that time, Jack.”

“I compartmentalize.” And that compartmentalization
had been part of the package that led to divorce, too.

“Yeah, I understand. You just about have to do that in your position. I guess it must not have been too bad a breakup, though, since you’re helping her out now?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. We haven’t spoken since the divorce. I’m helping because Melinda asked me to do it.”

Gabe folded his arms and studied Jack. “And Melinda is the only reason you brought your ex-wife to Eternity Springs? Sorry, Davenport, I’m not buying that.”

“I didn’t say that was the only reason. I’m genuinely concerned for her safety. That’s what I do, Callahan. I rescue people.”

Except, of course, the one person who had mattered the most.

He recalled the conversation the following day when his cousin, Cam Murphy, called with the news that Sarah Reese’s mother, Ellen, an Alzheimer’s patient, had driven off in the family car and become lost. With Cat along as a spotter, Jack joined the search team by flying a grid over an area assigned to him by Sheriff Zach Turner. He flew the grid twice and expanded the search area on his own. He saw no sign of the missing car and landed back at Eagle’s Way at dark, tired of the tension that continued to simmer in the air between him and Cat, and deeply frustrated by having failed in his mission. So much for being a “rescuer.” Jack didn’t fail often, and when he did, he didn’t wear it well.

He was tired. It wasn’t easy being the go-to guy when someone was in trouble.

Except, he wasn’t the go-to guy when Cat was in trouble, was he? For her parents, maybe, but not for her. She hadn’t called him. Not this time, and not five years ago. She hadn’t wanted him around then, and she didn’t
want him around now. It wore on a man. Made him weary.

That’s why when his phone rang an hour later, he was standing in his great room staring out at the moonlit night, sipping a drink and sulking. He checked the screen and recognized Melinda’s number.

“Hello?”

The conversation that followed removed one burden from his shoulders, and he only realized how heavy a burden it had been once it was gone. Just as he’d suspected, the threat against Cat had nothing to do with Melinda. That made the entire situation much less complicated and easier to solve. “If the arson investigator doesn’t track down the bomber, my guys will,” he told Melinda.

“I spoke with the local authorities today. They weren’t happy you hired private help.”

“That’s just too damn bad.”

They spoke about the local investigation a few moments, then Melinda asked, “How are you and Cathy getting along?”

“Fine.”

“I hope she’ll use this time to find her way past some of the bitterness so that she can move forward. The two of you—”

“No,” he interrupted. “Those rules haven’t changed, Melinda. I will not discuss my relationship with Cat with you. That’s still off-limits.”

In the moment of silence that followed, he could easily see the unhappy purse of her lips. “I just think—”

“I’m going to hang up now. Good-bye.” He disconnected the call and sighed. Some things never changed. Keeping his mother-in-law out of his marriage—and out of his divorce—had been one of the most difficult tasks he’d faced. In fact, her refusal to keep her nose out of his
business when his marriage was falling apart was one of the main reasons he’d transferred out of the D.C. office.

That, along with the fact that looking at Melinda Blackburn was like looking at Cat in thirty years. Being around her had hurt his heart.

He’d no sooner dropped his phone into his pocket than it rang again. Melinda again, he figured. He was tempted to ignore it. He’d hung up on his mother-in-law, not his boss. But just in case his boss was calling back, he knew he had to answer. He fished the phone back out of his pocket and paused. This wasn’t Melinda.

“Hello?”

“Jack Davenport? Is this Jack Davenport?”

He didn’t know the woman’s voice, but he did recognize the note of hysteria in it. “Yes.”

“I’m Tony Martinez’s wife. He gave me your number months ago. He needs your help.
We
need your help. He’s using again and he’s saying some crazy things. I’m scared. Please, help us?”

Jack dropped his chin to his chest. Tony Martinez was a former colleague and a friend. Three years ago they’d gone into Mexico together tasked with liberating a U.S. asset being held hostage by a Mexican cartel. Tony had come home a changed man—the change not for the better. “Have you called 911?”

“No. It’s not that kind of emergency. I think he needs to talk. He said he needs you.”

“Where are you?”

“At home. In Dallas.”

Jack mentally formed a plan. He would call the sheriff and offer the use of his helicopter in the search effort for Ellen Reese to another pilot. Zach had mentioned today that the guy who had bought Sarah’s grocery store earlier this year knew how to fly a bird. “I’ll be there by noon tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Even as he ended the call and began developing his travel plan, his thoughts turned to Cat. She would be safe at Eagle’s Way whether he was with her or not. She didn’t need him here to protect her. In fact, she’d probably pop a bottle of champagne as soon as he left.

Decision made, he left his office in search of his ex-wife. He found her in the library, stretched out on the couch, typing on her laptop. She looked up at his knock on the door. “Yes? I’m … Jack? What’s wrong?”

“A friend is in trouble, and I have a favor to ask.”

“Of me?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“If I leave you here alone for a few days, will you promise to stay here?”

“At Eagle’s Way?”

“Yes, though if you get bored, I think it’s safe for you to go into Eternity Springs. Melinda confirmed to me a few minutes ago that her fear that the firebombing had been a warning to her has proved false, and the other suspects are all local to D.C. They would not have been able to follow us here. I’d ask that you go no farther than town and to keep a low profile while you’re there, however.”

“I can do that.” She gave his face a searching look, then abruptly shut her laptop and smiled. “Want me to help you pack?”

The eagle was back.

Through the wall of windows of the great room, Cat spied the huge bird as he circled above the meadow. She grabbed her camera bag from a table beside the front door and hurried outside. Quickly, she switched to a long range lens while debating where to position herself to get the best shots.

She scanned the valley and then the house. She’d get snowcapped mountains in the background if she shot the photos from the balcony off the master bedroom. Without hesitation, she turned around and hurried inside and up the stairs.

Cat had explored most of Eagle’s Way since Jack left her here alone last week, but she’d stayed clear of his bedroom. Now as she entered it, she took a quick look around, noting dark woods and a peaceful palette of blues and grays and … whoa.

She halted abruptly. A framed photograph of the two of them at their wedding sat on his dresser. Wow. Just wow. That was the last thing she would have expected to find in her ex-husband’s bedroom.

She crossed to the dresser and picked up the photograph. How young they’d both been. How happy.

They’d eloped to Las Vegas. He had no family and she’d never cared about having a big wedding. Presenting their marriage as a fait accompli had made it easier for them both where her mother was concerned. They’d honeymooned in a bridal suite over a long weekend and left the room only twice the entire time.

Oh, Jack. Why couldn’t we make it work?

Unsettled, she flipped the lock on the French doors leading out onto the balcony and tried to refocus her attention on the soaring eagle. He was a beautiful thing to watch, and once she brought her camera up and began framing shots, she was able to put the picture in Jack’s bedroom out of her mind. Mostly.

She wanted to get a fabulous shot. She’d been inspired by the work of a wildlife photographer hanging on display at the art gallery in town, Vistas.

Yesterday Sarah had invited her to a luncheon she’d hosted to thank everyone who’d assisted in the search for her mother. Ellen Reese had been found safe and sound the day Jack had left Eagle’s Way. At the gathering at Sarah’s bake shop, Fresh, Cat had met Sarah and Nic’s circle of friends: Celeste Blessing, the owner of Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa; Ali Timberlake, the owner of the Yellow Kitchen restaurant; and Sage Rafferty, professionally known as “the renowned artist Sage Anderson” and the owner of Vistas. It had been a fun, lighthearted gathering and Cat had enjoyed herself—as Cat Davenport. These friends of new friends who knew the truth could be trusted, Nic and Sarah had assured her, but it was easier and safer for everyone to think of her as Davenport.

Easier for them
, Cat thought.
Not me
.

When conversation turned to a painting Sage had recently completed, Cat expressed a desire to see it, and after lunch, Sage had taken her over to Vistas.

Cat had liked all of Sage’s work very much, but for
some reason, the wildlife photographs had captivated her. One shot in particular had caught her fancy, a five-by-seven print of a nightingale perched on the limb of a cottonwood tree. She’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision to purchase it. Only after she’d paid for the photograph and was preparing to leave did she think to ask the name of the photographer. Sage had smirked a little as she told her, and Cat had felt her cheeks flush. Jack Davenport? Really?

“I browbeat him into letting me hang his work,” Sage had told her. “I saw his photographs when my husband and I visited Eagle’s Way earlier this year. I’ve been looking for someone in that field to represent. We had a horrible incident with my previous wildlife photographer—turned out he was also into kiddie porn—so I was just thrilled to discover someone local who was also so talented.”

Back when they were together, Cat had done all the picture taking. Jack never touched a camera. She wondered if photography was a new pursuit or simply one more thing he’d hidden from her while they were married. She had tucked the photograph into her shopping bag, and once back at Eagle’s Way, she’d buried it in her panty drawer under the assumption that Jack would never find it there. Now, though, as she attempted to capture a spectacular shot of the predator in the sky, her thoughts continued to stray back to the photograph in her lingerie drawer, and the one on the dresser behind her.

She was almost relieved when a new image entered her viewfinder. Spying the whirling blades of a helicopter, she caught her breath.

The Eagle was back.

Hoping she hadn’t been spotted on his balcony, she hurried back through the master bedroom. Downstairs, she took a seat at the bar in the kitchen and pretended
to idly flip through a magazine while drinking a glass of hastily poured iced tea.