Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4) (17 page)

Envelope.  He should have asked how big.  After the
elaborate precautions for the drop yesterday, the kidnapper wouldn’t deliver
instructions that way.  So what could be in it?

Elias took one incredulous look at himself in the mirror
before he concentrated on shaving.  The flesh seemed to have fallen away,
leaving his face gaunt.  Even so, he looked better than Hannah.  He had to get
her to eat.

The house was completely quiet.  He followed the aroma of
coffee and the light in the kitchen…but found the room empty.  Where…?

The air all left his lungs.  Oh, no.  He hadn’t even thought
last night.

Back to him, she stood in front of the river-rock fireplace
that climbed to the vaulted ceiling of his living room.  A rough chunk of wood
formed a mantel, above which hung the painting he’d once considered his finest
work.  The painting he hadn’t glanced at in months, and should have taken down.

Although he didn’t think he’d made a sound, Hannah turned to
look at him over her shoulder.  Pain layered atop pain in her brown eyes.  Her
freckles stood out against pallid skin.  Her toasty warmth – the beach fire he
had imagined – had been doused with cold water.

“Who is she?”

Elias’s gaze went past her to the magnificent oil painting
of a beautiful woman and his jaw tightened.  “Michelle Thomsen.”

Hannah had guessed the moment she saw it.  Not wanting to
see the expression on Elias’s face, she turned back to the painting of a
delicate, sensuous woman.  Against the ocean behind her, her hair glimmered
gold.  He’d seen something in her, an uncertainty and worry Hannah recognized. 
The sand dollar in her slender hand seemed to represent a perfection, a hope,
she knew was too fragile to last.

This was more than a portrait.  Every brushstroke held
passion.  “You really were in love with her,” Hannah murmured.

He had moved to stand beside her, allowing her to see his
flinch.

“I was,” he said after a moment.  “In the way of a boy.  I’d
never touched her, didn’t really know her.  I only imagined I did.”

“Has Sophie seen this?”

The lines carving his lean cheeks deepened.  “Yes.”  He
hesitated.  “After she did, I meant to take down the painting.  I…thought I’d
give it to her, maybe as a wedding present.”

Sophie’s wedding had come and gone.  “You couldn’t let it
go,” Hannah said softly.

“No, it wasn’t that.”  Elias frowned at his own work. 
“Michelle was a symbol of my…resignation, for lack of a better word.  I’d
become comfortable.”

“You accepted what you couldn’t have.”  How had he even
brought himself to use the word ‘beautiful’ last night?  Hannah had always
known her own face was pleasant but plain.  This moment, she felt homely, fat,
hopeless. 

“Not the way you think.”  Elias scowled at her.

I asked to sleep with him.  I climbed all over him.  I
begged him to make love to me.
  Her fault.

She backed away.  “I need to go.  I’d rather you didn’t come
with me.”

Frustration flared in his eyes.  “This damn painting has
nothing to do with—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  Pride was all she could
depend on.  “If you’ll please open the garage door, I can go.  Daniel’s
waiting.”

“Hannah—”

“No!” she snapped.  “No.  I know what it’s like to be—” 
Second best.  Never again.  Except…it had happened.  She’d
let
it
happen, despite knowing she didn’t measure up to this man.  How had she been
stupid enough to think for a minute…

Ian.  All her hopes had to be for Ian.

Elias’s focus sharpened.  “What it’s like to be what?”

Hannah shook her head.  “I need to go.”

“
We
need to go.  I’ll be right behind you.”  Seeing
the look on her face, he shook his head.  “Not negotiable.”

Her chest hurt, but she nodded.

Neither had coffee or or a toasted bagel.  Within a couple
of minutes, they headed out, Elias’s Land Rover right behind her.  Even on the
highway, he never allowed enough space for another car to pass him and edge
between them.

Of course he wouldn’t abandon her, she thought bitterly. 
That wouldn’t be in his nature.  It just didn’t have anything to do with her.

Once she was home, she could call someone else.  Not Sophie
– she had barely survived one madman, and now with her pregnant…  No.  And
Michelle was Sophie’s mother besides.  Right now, that would bother Hannah.

Emily, maybe.  Emily, who had lost a young son, would
understand what Hannah was going through better than anyone.  And if she came,
Sean would be around, too.  He was as protective as Elias and Daniel.

A lump in Hannah’s throat told her she couldn’t call Emily,
either.  Emily’s little boy had died.  Just seeing her would remind Hannah of
the worst of all possible outcomes.  Plus, she’d force Emily to remember too
much.

The not-so-secret truth was that Hannah wanted Elias at her
side.  Only Elias.

A Cape Trouble P.D. squad car was parked at the curb in
front of Hannah’s house when they arrived.  She had barely braked when she
erupted out of her Highlander and ran toward the porch, where Daniel waited on
an Adirondack chair.

“He said no police,” she cried, gesturing toward the car
with its rack of lights.  “Why did you drive
that
?”

The slam of a door signaled Elias’s arrival.  The duffel bag
full of money slung over a shoulder, he crossed the lawn.

Daniel waited until Elias reached Hannah’s side and laid a
hand on her back before saying, “This scumbag left a message taped to the door
of Ian’s daycare center.  He’s smart enough to know that would worry Mrs.
Voight enough she’d likely call me.  Everyone in town knows Ian was abducted. 
I think this—” he nodded at the white, letter-size envelope that lay on the
porch floorboards “—is his way of saying he doesn’t care who knows.”

Still she trembled, trying to reason it out.  “If he’s watching…it’s
too late.”

“He may be out there right now—“” Daniel’s gaze flicked to
the street and back to her house “—but it’s unlikely.  This man has a regular
life.  Disappearing from it right now would draw attention he can’t afford.  He
needs to go to work, follow his usual routine.  Getting away to watch you can
only be occasional.  This morning…”  He shrugged.  “How could he know for sure
where we’d meet?  I might have had you come to the police station, or driven
out to Elias’s.”

“Hannah,” Elias said quietly, “you need to find out what’s
in there.  And I’d suggest you not look until we’re inside.”

In case it was horrible, he meant.  So she didn’t give that
monster any satisfaction if he was in a position to see her reaction.

She nodded and let Elias take her keys to let them in.

Inside, she went straight to the kitchen and sank down on
one of the hard wooden chairs.  Elias chose the closest to hers.  Daniel, she
saw, held the envelope by one corner.

“Let me slit it open,” he said.  “I doubt we’ll find
fingerprints, but everyone gets careless eventually.”  Taking her acquiescence
for granted, he used a paring knife from a drawer to slice open the top, after
which he was able to shake out what appeared to be a single sheet of white copy
paper.  Except…something fluttered with it.  Dirt?

Hannah leaned forward, peering at the fine filaments  As
they settled on the table top, they glinted coppery-red, and she knew.

“Ian’s hair,” she whispered.  “That’s his hair.”

Staring, too, Elias said, “He shaved Ian’s head.”

Expression hard, Daniel used the tip of the knife to open
the sheet of paper, one flap, then the other.  Inside was more hair, pooled at
the fold, clinging to the paper.

There were only two lines of print, typed in a large, dark
font:

A FINGER NEXT, SO DON’T SCREW UP AGAIN.

TRUST ME – I WILL GET WHAT I WANT.

Trust him.  Everyone wanted Hannah’s trust.  The monster. 
Daniel.  Elias.

Elias most of all. 

She kept staring at the message, dusted with Ian’s hair. 
“That’s everything?”

Daniel lifted the envelope by that same corner and shook it
over the table.  More hair fluttered out.  “Apparently.”

Elias took Hannah’s hand.  She didn’t – couldn’t – resist
the comforting clasp.  “No lice,” he said, just for her.

A hysterical laugh bubbled from her.  “He so didn’t want me
shaving his head.”

“I’ll remind him I went to school bald, too.  Convinced
everyone I was a badass.”

Her laugh ended in a sob, although her eyes stayed dry.  All
she could think was, now what?

“I’m taking this,” Daniel said.  “I don’t have to tell you
to keep the phones close by.”

No.  He didn’t.

“What will you be doing?” Elias asked.

“I’m still digging into the finances and pasts of the men in
Hannah’s life.  Oh – Arlo Castaneda spent all day yesterday in Newport and
Yachats meeting with restaurant owners.  Safe to say he wouldn’t have set up a
ransom pickup and then not been available.”

Elias shrugged.  “He always was unlikely.”

Daniel said, “We’re searching everyplace that seems remotely
possible.  You know we went through Bresler’s resort, top to bottom.  Sean
checked out the lighthouse, too.  It’s been deserted for years.”

“He could have Ian stashed in his closet or a shed in his
backyard.”

“He could.”  Daniel ran a hand tiredly over his face.

“Do you know a real estate agent you trust?” Elias asked
suddenly.

Daniel stared at him.  “You’re thinking Fletcher?”

“No more than anyone else.  But I get an itch every time I
look at that house for sale across the street.  It would be a perfect place to
lurk if you wanted to watch Hannah.  There have to be a lot of houses for sale
in the area.  How many of them are empty?”

“But they typically have keys outside in lockboxes,” Daniel
argued.  “A Realtor could decide to show a house without warning.”

“Aren’t they supposed to call the listing agent?”

Patrick Fletcher?  Hannah gaped at the two men. 
Fletch
?

“They are,” Daniel said after a minute.  Hannah could tell
he was thinking hard.  “I do know a woman.  Works for Windermere.  She could
separate out the occupied houses from the unoccupied.  And she wouldn’t need a
warrant to show a house to a man who just happens to be a cop, would she?”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“Good idea.” Daniel unfolded a paper bag from a pocket and
carefully lifted envelope and piece of paper into it using the knife.  Then he
nodded at Elias.  “Keep thinking.”

*****

Elias pushed back the chair, too restless to sit.  He
prowled the kitchen, pausing to look out the window over the sink and then the
sliding glass door.

Words Daniel had hesitated to say in Hannah’s hearing rang
in Elias’s ears.  This is all about
you
.  Could he live with it if that
were true – if this sick SOB killed Ian?

To have earned hate so vicious, so unrelenting, he had to
have done something terrible.  Not in his eyes, or he would remember, but in
someone else’s eyes.

He could talk to his friends…but that could be dangerous. 
What if he chose the wrong friend?  And, without revealing details Daniel
wanted held close, how did he explain his questions?

Mom.  If it happened in high school, she might have noticed
something he hadn’t.  He’d call her, but not yet.  First, he had to try to talk
to Hannah, hope she could get past his idiocy.

He turned back to her, to see that she hadn’t moved.  She
gazed toward the view of the backyard framed by the sliding glass door, but not
as if she saw it.  Frowning, he opened the refrigerator and surveyed the
contents, deciding again on scrambled eggs.  She hadn’t eaten any he’d made yet
– but he was hungry, too, and the choices were limited.  He would have to
either grocery shop himself today, or give a list to someone else.  She might
do better with sliced cantelope or watermelon, or something as easy to eat as
applesauce.

She paid no attention to him moving around in her kitchen,
banging cupboard doors and opening and closing drawers.  Even the smell of
sizzling bacon had no effect.  Not until he set a plate in front of her did she
blink and look up.

“Oh!  I’m not really—”

He interrupted without compunction, refusing to let her
neglect herself any longer.  “You have to eat whether you feel like it or not,
Hannah.  Maybe not everything I put on the plate, but something.”

She nodded and, wonder of wonders, picked up her fork. 
Clumsily, as if unsure what to do with it, but still a first step.

He ate, watching as she hesitantly took a first bite, then
another.  Elias waited until she’d cleared half her plate and seemed to lose
interest before he said, “I have a past, Hannah.”  A more eventful one than he
had realized.  And maybe he should let this go until Ian was safe at home, but
he couldn’t.  “Why did it upset you so much to see a painting of a woman whom I
imagined I was in love with when I was a teenager?  That was one hell of a long
time ago.”

Her brown eyes, duller than they should be, met his.  “If
it’s been so long, why is your whole house built around that one portrait?”

“Because she was a fantasy.”  Not just daylight infused the
painting.  Like a filmmaker, he’d used a color filter to suggest the golden,
dreamlike quality of the time.  “My heart was breaking as I worshipped from afar.” 
He’d been so damn young.  “Only then I heard the gunshot in the fog.  I found
her body.  I saw the bloody mess of her head, had to carry her screaming little
girl away.  I think…it all flipped a switch in me.  I was left…emotionally
retarded, I guess is one way to put it.”

“Convinced that love was the greatest of your life.”

“Yeah.”  He shifted in his chair, embarrassment making up a
good part of his discomfort.  “I guess that’s it.”  He had figured out this
much of the convoluted reasoning his subconscious had given rise to.  He could
share some of it, but Elias wasn’t about to tell Hannah he had apparently set
out to find his one, true love, as if convinced she’d been reincarnated.  Easy
to convince himself he liked pretty, slender, blonde women.  So what?  Most men
had a type.  Except, he hadn’t until the tragic end of that summer.  His
girlfriend the year before was a lushly built brunette whose mother was Cuban. 
Laurel, she’d been the first he had used as a substitute. 
And I never saw
it.

Hannah’s eyes glittered with anger.  “You’d resigned
yourself to not having her, so with me you thought you’d find out what happens
with a woman who had no resemblance whatsoever to your ideal?”  She leaned
forward.  “Say a freckled redhead who is probably six inches taller and
twice
her weight
?”  She was yelling by the end.

“That’s bullshit!” Elias yelled back.

The anger vanished and she gave her head a quick, dismissive
shake.  “It doesn’t matter.  We had dinner once.  You’ve been…really great.  I
shouldn’t take out my insecurities on you.”

Caught by surprise, he said, “You really are insecure about
your looks.”