Share No Secrets (32 page)

The headlights picked up deep ruts in the road ahead. Adrienne turned the wheel slightly left, keeping one set of tires on the hump between the ruts, the other set on the tiny bit of ground between a rut and the wall of trees. The speedometer read that they were going five miles an hour, but it felt like two. This road is a disgrace, she thought. Something would have to be done about it come spring whether Lottie liked it or not.

Brandon suddenly barked and Adrienne jumped, shifting the wheel, and sending the tires directly into the ruts. The car hit with a thud and moved only another foot or so before she heard the sound of metal abrading on gravel and dirt She pushed gently on the accelerator. The abrasion grew more intense and the car moved slower. Finally, the sound amplified into downright grating. Shuddering, the car slowed, then stopped. When she tried to move forward again, the tires spun uselessly.

“Oh no,” she groaned. “We’re hung on the frame. That means no traction, Brandon, and that in turn means we’re stuck.” He looked at her with expectation. “Looks like you and I get to go for a walk.”

Brandon knew the word
walk
and promptly began shifting in his seat and whining with joy. Adrienne attached his leash and as she climbed out the driver’s side, he scrambled over the console to follow her.

Out on the road, she glowered with pure hatred at the useless car. The night seemed extremely dark. The wind had picked up. She was tired. She was scared. Abruptly her cell phone rang and she almost screamed. Brandon was too busy snorting heady and mysterious smells in dirt under the trees to pay any attention to her. “Hello,” she said tightly into the phone.

“It’s just me,” Skye said. “I had a bad feeling. Is everything all right?’

“I got the car stuck in ruts on the road.”

“Gosh, Mom, you should be more careful.”

“I
am
careful,” Adrienne said with sudden, sharp defensiveness. “Besides, it’s really Brandon’s fault”

“I know. He’s a terrible driver,” Skye giggled. Adrienne grew more annoyed. “Is he okay?”

“Your
dog
is having a ball. Your
mother
is another matter, not that I seem to be your first priority.” Adrienne paused and took a deep breath, forcing down the nerves making her querulous. “Skye, you haven’t gone out or called anyone, have you?”

“No. You said not to. Is Lottie okay?”

“We haven’t reached the cabin yet so I don’t know. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way. It’s not far, though.”

“Good. I’m glad Brandon’s with you.”

“Yes, he’s been a tremendous help so far. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“Give him a chance, Mom. He might surprise you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She took another deep, supposedly calming breath that didn’t help at all. “I’ll call you when we get to Lottie’s. Lucas should be here soon.”

“Good.”

“Don’t go out.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t open the door for
anyone.”

“Okay,
Mom. Jeez.” Skye hung up. So did Adrienne, feeling frazzled and mean. She’d make up to Skye for her last few days of grouchiness and overprotection. They’d do something fun together, like shop for new fall school clothes. She’d even let Skye pick out a couple of outfits Adrienne thought looked too sophisticated for a fourteen-year-old. “Come on, Brandon,” she called, cheering up slightly. He looked at her, then ambled over, letting her take his leash in her hand. “Onward and upward.”

Brandon seemed much more prepared for a trip onward and upward than Adrienne did. Of course, he’d slept most of the day while she’d paced and wrung her hands and fretted. There was a lot to be said for fretting, she thought. It kept your mind active. It kept the old central nervous system on its toes.

It also made you cranky and exhausted.

She decided she should have taken a nap this afternoon, but she’d been too restless. And she’d had no idea she’d be trekking up an overgrown trail to Lottie’s house at eleven-thirty at night.

The stiffening wind sent the evergreen limbs swaying and their needles whispering as if they had a dark secret. Brandon, excited by the unusual night outing, pulled ahead, sending her stumbling over the road’s bumps and snaky rivulets. Snaky? Snakes, she thought Did snakes come out at night? Adrienne wished she had on knee-high boots instead of canvas tennis shoes. Why on earth hadn’t she taken time to change shoes? Or to bring the giant five-cell Mag-Lite flashlight that had belonged to her West Virginia state policeman grandfather? She could also have used it as a weapon.

Right, she mused. It would be just like her to have the presence of mind, not to mention the bravery, to successfully beat the crap out of an attacker with a flashlight

Adrienne trudged on, feeling as if she’d walked half
a
mile instead of about a hundred feet. A mist slowly lowered from the infinite night sky, twining around the treetops, twisting in the wind. The phrase
forest primeval
echoed maddeningly in her mind. She had to remember she was not in some uncharted wilderness. She was on the remains of
a
road Lottie traveled on foot almost every day.

Suddenly she heard a rustling in the woods to her right She stopped dead. So did Brandon, his ears perking up. She clenched her hands, wishing again for the giant flashlight Or a gun she didn’t know how to use. Even Mace. Anything.

More rustling. The wind, she thought. Just the wind. But Brandon’s ears were still standing straight up and a growl rumbled in his throat He didn’t growl at the wind.

And then she saw it A young deer with giant ears and huge, gentle eyes, looking back at her with as much fear as she regarded it. She said a silent prayer that Brandon would not go charging after it, dragging her along. Or dragging it down for a bloody kill. Not that he’d ever shown the slightest interest in pursuing a deer before.

The three of them stood paralyzed for what seemed an endless time. Then the deer turned its head and bounded away in great, graceful leaps. Adrienne realized she’d been holding her breath, and she let it out, feeling as if her chest were ready to explode. “I am not cut out for a life of mystery and danger,” she murmured to Brandon. “I wish we were home in front of the television.” But she’d made it this far, and she was determined not to run away before she had at least done her best to find Lottie. She owed that much to Julianna, no matter how nervous she felt out here in the dark.

In spite of the wind, Adrienne had begun to perspire from trotting to keep up with Brandon by the time they neared Lottie’s cabin. First, she heard the wind chimes jingling and clinking from the porch roof. Then she saw light turned vaporous by the mist seeping from the windows. And what appeared to be an open door. Why would Lottie, apparently so frightened she’d been on the run for days, sit in her cabin with the door wide open? Adrienne felt as if her heart were contracting as she and Brandon picked up speed, rushing toward what could only be a portentous signal.

“Lottie?” she called before they reached the porch. “Lottie?”

But the only answer was the sound of the wind chimes jangling. As she climbed the porch steps, Adrienne looked closer at them in the light. Then she saw them. Red, hand-painted Venetian glass chimes just like the ones Philip had brought to Rachel from Europe. The girl had cherished them as a special gift picked just for her. But apparently Philip had bought two sets, one for his lover, Julianna, which she had hung on her mother’s porch where few people except herself would see them. Adrienne had looked right at them the day she was here with Ellen, and neither their similarity nor their significance had registered in her mind.

“Lottie?” she called again, not expecting an answer as they crossed the porch and stood in the open doorway. Several hurricane lamps of frosted glass burned softly inside, bathing the cabin’s shabby furnishings in a creamy glow in the lonely night. “Lottie?”

Adrienne and Brandon had just stepped over the threshold when something whistled past Adrienne’s head and shattered one of the lamps. Immediately, Adrienne dropped to the floor, instinctively pulling down Brandon with her as if he were a child. She cowered next to him as another shot whizzed into the cabin, then another, and another.

And then came silence.

Time seemed to stop as Adrienne lay beside Brandon, her face buried in his shining black hair. He hadn’t moved. She was afraid he was dead. She was afraid to raise her head to see.

She inched her hand around to his chest and felt the heart beating strong and regular. “Brandon,” she whispered in relief. “God, I’m glad you’re alive.” He whined and shifted in a slow effort to rise. “Don’t stand up,” she said as if he could understand her. “Someone might still be out there with a gun and this time they won’t miss.”

If they
had
missed. Her own body felt strangely anesthetized. She wondered if she was injured and going into shock, or merely scared into numbness. And she wasn’t sure Brandon hadn’t been shot. Skye will be heartbroken if I’ve let something happen to him, Adrienne thought. She’ll be crushed.

She felt hot tears running into her eyes, tears of fear and regret for having been foolhardy enough to come out here after Lottie. Yes, she had been concerned. Yes, she had been afraid Lottie might run away from anyone except her. But she hadn’t thought of the danger to herself, or the fact that she might make her daughter an orphan. She’d been a reckless fool.

Adrienne and Brandon still lay on the wooden floor, pressed together, her tears pouring into his hair, when someone directly above her said, “Good God, Adrienne, are you all right?”

She froze. Playing dead. After all, it worked for animals. Just go away, she thought. Assume you’ve been successful in killing me and go away.

She heard the front door shutting firmly. Then hands gently touched her back. Brandon raised his head and growled. “It’s all right, boy,” a man said soothingly. “I’m here to help. Just settle down.”

Drew. Drew Delaney was bending over her. Right after someone had been shooting at her.

“Adrienne, are you hurt?” he asked. “Answer me if you can. I’m afraid to turn you over.”

Finally, she said, “I’m not in pain. I don’t think I’ve been shot.” She made a feeble attempt to roll over. Drew placed his hand firmly across her neck to stabilize it and helped turn her. His dark gaze ran up and down her body. “I didn’t see any wounds in your back. There’s no blood on the front of you, either. I think you’re okay.”

“I do seem to be damned near indestructible, don’t I?” she asked with a feeble smile. “First I’m beaten. Then I’m shot at” She paused. “I lead the life of a superhero.”

Drew grinned. “How do you like it?”

“It sucks. I’m resigning.” She turned her head and looked at Brandon. “Do you think he’s hurt?”

“No. Just scared.” He paused and she heard him moving across the wooden floor. Then, one by one, the lamps went out “Now we’re not such easy targets,” he said.

“Did you find Lottie?” Adrienne asked fearfully, picturing the woman lying dead in her tiny cabin.

“No. Apparently, she’s escaped again.” She heard him walking slowly back to her, kicking a chair leg in the darkness. Then, beside her ear, he said, “You can stand up now. Just stay away from the windows.”

Adrienne rose slowly and unsteadily, like someone who has been in bed a long time and hasn’t regained sure footing. Drew came to her side and took her arm. “All right?” he asked.

“Yes. I just have a weird dizzy feeling.”

“That always happens to women when they stand next to me.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s gone now, and you’re still here.”

“I didn’t say it lasted for hours.”

She couldn’t believe he’d made her smile, even in this awful situation, and she was glad he couldn’t see her face. She looked down at Brandon. In the faint glow of moonlight coming through the front window, she watched him clamber up even more slowly than she had. Adrienne kneeled and ran her hands over his body, then rubbed her dry palms together. “No blood, thank goodness,” she said brightly. “Looks like we both made it through unscathed.”

Then her legs gave out and she plopped down hard on the wooden floor. “Good God, Drew, someone tried to
kill
me!”

He squatted down beside her. “The reality just hit you, didn’t it?”

“Like a lightning bolt.” Adrienne felt tears running down her face and was surprisingly embarrassed. She brushed at them impatiently, but not before Drew had touched her cheeks and felt them for himself. “Now I’m going to have a weeping fit on top of everything else. What next?”

“Weep all you want if it makes you feel better,” he said comfortingly. “I’d weep too if I didn’t have this macho image to maintain.”

Before she quite knew what she was doing, Adrienne had buried her head on Drew’s shoulder while tears flowed and her body shook. “I was so s-scared,” she murmured. “I just stepped in and then there were explosions, or what sounded like explosions, and they seemed to go on and on, and I was sure I was going to d-die.”

Drew gently gathered her long hair, draped it over her shoulder, and began stroking her neck. “I know you were scared, baby. Anyone would have been. But you’re safe now.”

“Yes. I’m s-safe. But I’m not your baby.”

“Sorry. The drama of the moment made me revert to high school. That’s what I called you then, remember?”

“It was a lifetime ago.”

“Oh, not
that
long.” He stopped stroking her neck and began a less intimate patting on her back. “And you’re not all that different than you were then.”

“I am, too. I’ve changed a lot more than you know.”

“Probably not as much as I have. I’m not
quite
the cad I used to be.”

“You were worse than a cad. You broke my heart.” Adrienne could have bitten her tongue for that last candid statement. She snuffled and, with an effort, pulled away from him. She was enjoying his warmth, his scent, his deep and lulling voice far too much. She quelled a deep, absurd desire to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. Instead, she demanded loudly, “Did you see anyone outside? Do you
know
who tried to shoot me?”