Whispering Rock (10 page)

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Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Whispering Rock
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“No, not at all.”

“And you have relations on a regular basis?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “You have to remember, John has just discovered sex,” she said. Then she smiled a bit shyly.

“Oh,” Mel said. “I take that to mean—?” But she stopped herself.

“He can’t get enough,” she said. “But then, I haven’t had a loving partner until now, so I’m not complaining.”

“Well, that might be the problem. Having a lot of sex is a bad way to get pregnant. It depletes his sperm count. Before you try any fancy tests, you should drive to Fortuna, buy yourself an ovulation testing kit at the drugstore and ask Preacher to save up. It takes at least forty-eight hours to replenish the count. Make him wait. No more often than every couple of days. Every few days would be better and then only once—no marathons. And you want to make sure he’s been on ice a few days before the big day.” She smiled. “You get a reprieve on ovulation day, of course. Knock yourselves out.”

“Oh, brother,” she said, looking a bit stricken.

“How much do you want a baby?” Mel asked. “In fact, you might not hit pay dirt that first month. You might have to keep that kind of schedule for two or three months. Just because you’re both fertile doesn’t mean you get pregnant on one try.”

“Oh, boy,” she said. “I can just imagine how happy John’s going to be to hear this. I’ll have to remind him it was his idea to get your input.”

“If you like, we can do a sperm count before you put him through all this—but if it’s low, the prescription is going to
be wait it out, see if it gets better. On the other hand, if it’s really high after all that sex, he’s good to go. No reason to cut him off. Are you a betting woman?”

“I have a feeling how this is going to turn out,” Paige said. “He’ll want to do what matters, but…”

Mel laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah, he’s been so happy for just months now. I guess I can expect those frowns and scowls back. My advice—try this for three months and then begin the infertility routine—starting with sperm count. Sure you want to do this?” she asked, taking the baby off the breast and putting him over her shoulder for a burp.

“I want a baby, yes,” she said. “But John was the first one to say he wanted children with me.”

“You can always wait until next year,” Mel said. “Spend the rest of this year seeing if you can get tired of it.”

“I’ll talk to John,” she said, noncommittal.

 

A few days later Mel ate a late lunch at the bar as Jack stood behind it. He filled her water glass. “I want to ask you something,” he said. “I have absolutely no idea how you’re going to answer this.”

“Sounds scary,” she said, taking a spoonful of Preacher’s delicious chicken soup into her mouth.

“Depends on your perspective. Ricky’s USMC graduation from basic is just around the corner and I want to go. I want us to go.”

She shrugged and said, “Of course, Jack.”

“I want us to go alone,” he said.

She swallowed. “Alone?”

He nodded. “I think it’s important, Mel. We have to carve a little time out for the two of us, just you and me.”

“Are you feeling neglected?” she asked.

“Not at all. In fact, I feel pretty spoiled. But I still think we should make a habit of taking some time now and then, when we can be away from the town, the baby, the bar, the patients, everything. Regularly.”

She gave him a seductive half smile and lifted one brow. “Why, Jack…”

“It’s not even about that,” he said. “Well, it can be about that.” He grinned. Both hands braced on the bar, he leaned toward her. “You’re my wife, my lover and best friend. I want you all to myself once in a while.”

“What am I going to do about nursing David?”

“You’ll manage. You pump for extra bottles anyway, and he’s certainly not dependent on the breast anymore—he has bottles regularly. There are lots of people who’d be more than happy to keep him a couple of nights, but I thought about calling Brie. She’s still not working and loves an excuse to come up here. Plus, I haven’t seen her in so long. I’d like to see her again—just to see how she’s doing. Looking. You know.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Come away with me, Mel. Just a couple of nights.”

“I would love that. I’ll call Brie this afternoon.”

 

Mel left the baby napping at Doc’s and drove out to her homesite. She parked and got out of the Hummer. Leaning against the hood, she watched Jack driving nails into Sheet-rock inside the frame of their house. Momentarily he stopped and came to where she stood. He opened his arms to her and she filled them. Thank God, she thought. My man is mine again. Those silent, distant days seemed to be behind them.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked her.

“I wanted to tell you something,” she said. “Brie is coming. She’s thrilled to come and babysit. She’ll stay at least a week,
probably two. In fact, she said there was nothing in Sacramento to demand her quick return.”

She looked up at him and could see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted Brie—he wanted her near if she felt that it was good for her. He wanted to take care of her in any way he could, but he also wanted a private life with his wife. A private life reclaimed not all that long ago. And there was absolutely no privacy in that little cabin; every sound was shared by all.

“This is good, that she’s coming,” Mel said. “I think she needs to get out of Sacramento for a while—it’ll do her good. And when we get this house finished, I think we should try to buy the cabin from Hope. It’ll be a good place to have when we’re bursting at our seams. You have a very large family.”

He smiled at her. “Well, Mrs. Sheridan, you’re certainly throwing money around today, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “We have plenty of money. We should think about hiring subs, get this house moving. If you get bored, we’ll find you something else to build.”

“I wanted to do it for you,” he said. “I wanted to show you how much I would do, how far I would go. How hard I would work.”

“You can’t possibly think I don’t already know all that.”

 

“You’re not serious,” Preacher said to Paige. “That can’t be right.”

“That’s what Mel says,” she told him.

“Wow. Who’d ever think that the way to get pregnant is by not having sex.” It seemed as though he might’ve hung his head.

“John, it’s up to you. We don’t have to do this. Right now, anyway. I’m not insisting…”

“No, we’ll do it. We want a baby. I want a baby as much
as you do and getting your period makes you cry. So we’ll do it.” He shook his head. “How’m I gonna know when it’s okay?”

“Well—a few days between. You know? And just once, John, on those days. Except on ovulation day.” She grinned at him. “You can go crazy on ovulation day.”

“Damn, I’m going to miss it,” he moaned.

“John, I don’t have any facts to support this, but I don’t think everyone is having as much sex as we are….”

He had a confused look on his face. “Well, why not?”

She laughed at him. “Oh, John…”

“Did you get your little thing? Your little ovulation thing?”

“I’m going to run over to Fortuna later for some supplies for the bar and I’ll pick up a couple of kits, exactly the kind we need, because Mel said it could take longer than just a couple of months for us to make this work—if that’s the problem.”

“More than a couple of months?” he asked weakly.

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, Paige was saying to herself. “We try this for two or three months,” she said. “If it doesn’t work by then, we’ll get you tested, maybe try something else.”

He put his head in his hand. “Wow,” he said. Then, lifting his head bravely, he said, “It’s okay. We can do it.”

She put a hand on his arm. “John, ovulation day is just around the corner. A couple of weeks. That’s your reward.”

“I promise you, Paige. I’m going to make it
your
reward. I promise.”

Oh my, she thought. This was going to be interesting.

“I think we’re going to have to get a sitter for Christopher and close the bar on ovulation day,” he said.

 

Before Mel and Jack could leave for Ricky’s graduation from basic training, a newcomer appeared in Virgin River. The
lunch crowd had cleared out and Jack was behind the bar when a young woman came in. She had reddish-blond hair and that golden complexion that suggested freckles. Her lips were peach colored and she was smiling so brightly that Jack tilted his head, returning the smile, wondering who this might be. She came right up to the bar and leaned on it. “Jack Sheridan?” she asked.

“That’s me.”

She put out her hand. “I’m Vanessa Rutledge. Matt Rutledge’s wife. We have some people in common.”

He grabbed her hand. “You bet we do, one being your husband. How’s he doing?”

“He’s back in the Middle East, I’m afraid. He’s been gone a few months. I’m staying with my dad while he’s there, but Matt told me I’d better come here right away, look you up, find out when your boys are coming around, because Matt’s best friend and our best man is Paul Haggerty.”

“That’s right,” Jack said. “I remember, now that you mention it. I had those two boys in my squad way back—they were just kids. Paul, Matt, Preacher, Mike Valenzuela. Then Paul and the others were in my platoon on my last assignment in Iraq, and we’re still tight. Paul was here not very long ago, and due back again soon. We always try to catch some of hunting season, however many can make it.”

“Paul and Matt went to school together,” she said. “They enlisted together, went into basic and served a couple of tours together. In fact, they were together the night I met my husband.”

“Oh, Preacher and Mike are going to love this,” Jack said. He turned away from her and hit the wall that separated the bar from the kitchen to bring Preacher out.

“I’ve heard all about Preacher,” she said. “Paul talked
about you guys and this little bar a lot. It was such a weird coincidence that my dad found this place to settle.”

“Where is your dad?”

“He bought an old ranch on the edge of town a couple of years ago, right before his last assignment. He was having some work done to renovate it before he retired, then brought my little brother and their horses out here from D.C. over summer.”

“Last assignment?”

“He retired from the Army. Major General Walter Booth.”

Amused surprise registered on Jack’s face. “A grunt general let his daughter marry an enlisted jarhead?”

She lifted one pretty eyebrow, aquamarine eyes sparkling, and said, “I don’t take orders from anyone.” And they both laughed.

Preacher came out of the back, frowning at having been summoned by the pounding. He met with the gleaming smile of the pretty redhead at the bar and he softened his expression somewhat, curiously.

Vanessa was not startled by the big man’s size or surly expression. Neither was she surprised when his features softened into a curious smile. “You must be Preacher,” she said. She put out a hand. “I’d know you anywhere, except I heard you were big and bald. Now you’re just big. Vanessa Rutledge—Matt Rutledge’s wife.”

“No way!” Preacher exclaimed, reaching for her hand. “I heard he got married. What’s he doing these days?”

She shrugged and made a half smile. “Guess. Iraq. Baghdad, last I heard.”

“Oh, kid,” Preacher said sympathetically. “And you’re here?”

“My dad just moved here—he’s out on the edge of town. A
nice place for him and his horses. And my little brother, Tommy.”

“My lord,” Preacher said. “I can’t believe it. Right here!”

“The world just gets smaller,” she said, stepping back from the bar and pulling open her jacket to reveal a pregnant tummy. “I’m on my way to see Jack’s wife. I’m going to need her services.”

“Wow,” Jack said. “Look at you. First?”

“Yep. Just a few months to go.”

“Is Matt going to get back for the baby?” Jack asked her.

“No, but if we time this right, he should get a nice long leave when the baby’s a couple of months old.” She looked around, taking in the bar, the animal trophies on the walls, the rich dark wood. “So this is the place, huh? Boy, I’ve sure heard a lot about this place.”

“The boys love this place,” Jack said. “When Matt’s out, we’ll make sure he gets up here with the rest of them.”

“When he’s out? Hah! You think that’s going to happen? Matt’s a career Marine.” But she smiled, clearly proud of her man. And being a general’s daughter, she would be more than familiar with the rigors of military life.

“No rush,” Jack said. “We’ll be around a long time.”

Paige was summoned to the bar to meet Vanessa. Before long Mike made an appearance and was delighted to make the acquaintance of Matt’s wife. An invitation was extended for the general to stop by the bar for one on the house and Jack promised to get in touch with Vanessa and her father before Paul joined the next Semper Fi gathering, coming up soon.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Paul we’re here,” Vanessa said. “I’d love to surprise him.”

Five

M
ike Valenzuela became aware that beneath the surface of a perfect small town there could be crime, some minor and predictable, some of an insidious nature. He thought often about the two patients Mel had presented as he visited casually with neighbors, with the high school in the next town attended by the Virgin River kids, asking what people did for fun around these parts. Most of the time he got the expected responses—adults had their own gatherings, parties, picnics, cookouts. They frequented restaurants, galleries, wineries and nightspots in and around the coastal towns, and of course just about everyone hunted and fished. Most of the community socializing surrounded school functions, from sporting events to band and choir activities, after which there would always be big gatherings among the parents.

Zach Hadley dropped by Jack’s once or twice a week for a beer and Mike took the opportunity to get to know him a little better—his link to the high school kids paid off almost right away. He said the teens had their school functions from games to dances, but they also had a few haunts. Parties, both
with parents home and away, keggers in the woods. He’d overheard some talk about an isolated old rest stop back off highway 109 where there were a few ancient barbecue pits, bathrooms and picnic tables. Highway 109 had been heavily traveled before the newer freeway was finished and now was more of a daytime road, left to the teens by night. A perfect place, when the weather allowed, to bring a keg or a case of beer. Where Mike grew up in L.A. the kids had desert keggers or beach keggers—but out here, they had the forest.

“As long as they don’t get way back in the woods, far from the towns, they’re probably safe from problems with wildlife or marijuana growers,” Mike said. But were they safe from each other? Mike wondered.

“That’s true, then?” Zach asked. “All that illegal growing they talk about?”

“It’s true,” Mike confirmed. “Listen, if you ever have any concerns that I can help with, I wouldn’t let on where I got the information.”

“Actually,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I happened to see something—a half-written note—that startled me. Got my attention—but I wouldn’t have the first idea where to go with it.”

“I’m your first idea,” Mike said.

“It’s just gossip, you know. Sometimes things kids that age say can be shocking—and entirely fictional. But the note said something like stay away from those parties. There was a rumor about a girl ending up pregnant, though she couldn’t remember having sex.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “How’d you come across that?” he asked.

“A student left a notebook in class.” He shrugged. “I looked through it.”

Mike smiled. “I like your style. Nosy. Whose notebook was it?”

“I have no idea. I left it where I found it and it disappeared after lunch. Never saw it again, and I watched the kids, checked out what they were carrying into class. It belonged to a girl, I can tell you that. The doodles were all female.”

“You keep an eye on that, huh? Listen carefully,” Mike suggested. “That could be important information.”

“I know kids are going to drink some beer,” Zach said. “But if there’s any truth there, that’s some real hard drinking.”

“Yeah,” Mike said. And he thought—I bet it wasn’t the beer. “Keep me posted. I’ll never let on that we talked.”

Mike hung around the school, introducing himself, trying to cozy up to the kids, being as friendly and cool as possible. He knew he’d find some pot as he looked deeper. There was whispering of some methamphetamine, but no one breathed a word of roofies. Having Zach on his team was a big plus, but he was hoping to nab himself a teenage confidential informant, a CI who would feed him some names. The local police and sheriff’s department would already be looking into any underage drinking or illegal drug use when it turned up. But he wanted to know if any of his Virgin River girls were getting raped, and unless someone had filed a police report, local law enforcement wouldn’t know about it. And he already considered them his girls, his town.

He took a swing by the rest stop on 109 and found some beer bottles and condoms in the trash. He decided he might visit this spot with regularity, see who turned up. What turned up. He might even try a little woodsy surveillance. But winter came early in the mountains and he suspected that his window of opportunity was nearly closed for the season.

There was only one new guy on the block, as far as Mike
could determine—seventeen-year-old Tom Booth, Vanessa’s younger brother, the general’s son. Tom hadn’t been in town very long, not long enough to effect any damage. Booth, who invited Mike to call him Walt, was a widower and introduced him to Tommy, who seemed bright and affable. Polite and sincere. He would probably be popular with the girls, but he didn’t know many people yet. If Tom were well acquainted at school, he’d make a good source, but that wasn’t the case. When Mel’s second patient had awakened pregnant after a party, Tom had still been back in D.C.

And then there was a host of boys who had passed the age of fifteen, sixteen, seventeen—and perhaps come into some serious hormonal brain damage. A little testosterone and a lack of values could do the trick.

Unsurprisingly, the one person he wished he could talk to about this was Brie. But if he was any judge, she wasn’t up to that conversation. It was still too close to her own violation.

Mike didn’t expect to find himself back at the sheriff’s department quite so soon, but he felt compelled to let him know what he was sniffing around for. Since he had no victim, no suspect, no evidence, he really expected the sheriff to thank him politely and ask Mike to keep him informed. To his surprise, the sheriff called a detective named Delaney into his office and introduced him as their representative to a multi-agency drug task force, comprised of law enforcement from each local, state and county agency. “We have a detective working sexual assault, but it sounds like that would be getting ahead of ourselves. I’ll check with him, though. Ask if he’s heard anything about this,” the sheriff said.

“Thank you, sir,” Mike answered. “I understand this is big marijuana country,” he said to Detective Delaney.

“We have a lot of that, yeah. But we have a growing problem with white dope and really want to get ahead of that,” he said. White dope would be meth, cocaine, heroine.

“Gotcha,” Mike said. “Heard any rumblings about ecstasy? Roofies?”

“Ecstasy, though rare. Roofies—no. But Jesus, if you chase that down…”

“You’ll keep us up to speed?” the sheriff interrupted.

“Absolutely,” he said. “With this reluctance on the part of possible victims to report this, it could be a long process.”

“Even more reason I’m glad you’re willing to look further,” the sheriff said. “Without a victim or charge, no way I could free up a deputy to look into this. I appreciate the help.” He stuck out his hand. “That little town upriver is lucky to have you around.”

“Thank you,” Mike said. What he didn’t say was that in this case his motivation went a bit deeper than simply finding a bad guy. This was hitting a little close to home. There was Brie…

The next day he drove to Eureka and bought a laptop and printer. It was time to get online, use the Internet and his contacts for research.

 

When Brie arrived in Virgin River she had a couple of days with Jack, Mel and the baby before her brother and sister-in-law got off to an early start on the third day, headed for San Diego to the graduation. Then she changed the linens on the bigger bed in the room next to David’s and looked forward to a peaceful couple of days in the cabin. She bathed and fed her nephew, read while he had his morning nap, then took him into town at about lunchtime.

David was a baby used to being taken everywhere. While
his mother and father worked he was either at Doc’s clinic or at the bar, being looked after by a variety of people. He was a flexible baby, but because of the hectic schedule his parents kept, easily bored. Sitting around at home wouldn’t do it for him. So Brie went visiting.

She spent some time with Paige, hearing about the new quest to make a baby. She had lunch at the bar and David had finger food from the tray in his stroller. She spent a little time at Doc’s, where they played gin while David had his afternoon nap. She visited with Connie at the corner store and watched the afternoon soap opera with Connie and Joy, finding the starring hussie was doing yet another guy on the air, much to the delight of the older women. It was nearly dinnertime by the time she got back to Jack’s and people started wandering in. Brie had herself a beer while Preacher warmed up some finger veggies for David and a little skim milk for his special cup with the spout. Everyone who came into the bar gave her a friendly hello but then went immediately to David to kiss him, snuggle him, nuzzle him, make faces at him and entertain him. This was one of the most loved residents of Virgin River, and if it was not because he was charming and handsome, then it was because he belonged to Mel and Jack.

By five, Mike came in, and of course he went immediately to Brie. He had a beer while she finished hers and then they had their dinner together. He talked a little about driving around to the surrounding towns, trying to get to know people, learning how they spent their time and whether they had any concerns with which he could assist. He was beginning to get a sense of what they needed in a community policeman and found it to be like having any neighborhood beat in a city. It was not long after dinner that David began to fuss, needing that bedtime change and bottle.

“I have to go,” she said, getting up and taking the baby’s stroller in hand.

He stood, as well. “Would you like some company tonight?” he asked.

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to concentrate on my job.” She smiled. “When Mom and Dad get back, maybe we could do something.”

“We’ll find something fun,” he said with a smile. “It might not be too early to see the whales—they should be migrating south pretty soon.”

“Maybe we should try that,” she said.

When Brie took David home, the first thing that struck her was that it was very dark. She hadn’t left any lights on at the cabin and although it was only about seven, the night was quickly descending. The towering trees that surrounded the clearing cast long shadows. This place had always given her such a sense of peace and safety, it surprised her to be set on edge like this. She tried to ignore the anxiety it created in her and talked to the baby, as if he were company enough. “Come on, buster. Let’s get you settled. You had a good day, didn’t you? Yes, you did.”

Then there was that matter of the door having been left unlocked; she felt her heart skip a few beats. But she went inside, flipped on lights and locked the front door. She went to the back door and locked it. Her first two nights there had been so restful and tranquil, it had never occurred to her she’d be nervous tonight. Then, despite the fact that David fussed unhappily, she put him in his bed and retrieved her 9 mm handgun from her purse. Gun in hand, she searched the cabin, anxious to put her mind at ease. Inside closets, under beds, up in the loft. It didn’t take long to find it empty of threats, thank goodness, because her nephew was getting loud and im
patient in his crib. She put the gun on the nightstand beside her bed and tended to his needs. She changed him and warmed the breast milk that had been left for her by Mel.

It bothered her that there were no blinds or shutters to close over the windows. But why would Mel and Jack have bothered, out here in the forest? Who was to peek in the windows besides a bear? This hadn’t bothered her last night or the night before. Still, it caused Brie to fidget and continually glance around at the uncovered windows. Then she realized she had not spent a night alone since June.

“You have to do it sometime. You have to get beyond this,” she said aloud to herself.

Once David was changed, fed and put in his crib, she couldn’t imagine what she was going to do with herself, sitting in the little living room of that cabin, feeling as if anyone could look in, the TV fuzzy because Mel and Jack had never bothered to get a satellite dish. So she turned off the lights, and in the dark she undressed for bed. She put on a lightweight but concealing sweat suit, remembering with some longing the days when she’d slept in the buff, confident and unafraid. She hadn’t slept in the nude since that night. Even though it wasn’t yet eight o’clock, she got into bed. Her heart was beating too fast and she talked to herself—
there’s no one out here who wants to hurt you. You’re isolated in the woods—no one even knows you’re here.

Brie lay on her back, her arms folded across her stomach, her gun on the bedside table. She forced her eyes closed for a minute, then two minutes, then longer if she could. It seemed forever before her pulse slowed and she relaxed a little; every sound the wind made caused her to tremble. If I can just make it through one night, I can make it through another, she told herself. She looked at the bedside clock at eight-fifteen, eight-thirty, eight forty-five.

At some point she dozed off, but later she was jolted awake by a fright. She gasped, sat straight up in the bed and realized she was sweating, panting, her heart hammering. She grabbed up the gun and held it out in front of her, pointing it toward the bedroom door. She listened intently. There was a whistling and soft moaning; the wind through the pines. There was a slight muffled sound coming from David’s bedroom and she got out of bed, gun in hand, muzzle pointed to the ceiling, and crept into his bedroom to be sure there was no one there. David squirmed around in his sleep, nestling into the bedding, dreaming.

Oh, God, she thought. I’m creeping around my baby nephew with a loaded gun! Tears stung her eyes. I’m a basket case, she thought.

She went into the dark kitchen, picked up the phone and called Mike. When he answered, she said in a breath, “I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

“What’s happening?” he asked, alert.

“Nothing. Nothing that I know of. The doors are locked, I’ve checked the house, but I’m prowling around here with a loaded gun in my hand. I’m completely nuts.”

“Can you put that gun down, please,” he said calmly. “I will be there in ten minutes.”

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