Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (9 page)

He moved to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. The faint aroma of a vanilla sachet wafted up to his nose, and he closed his eyes to inhale the scent. Love for her nearly split his chest wide open. She would know soon.

He opened his eyes and carefully lifted out her underwear and nightgowns, thrown haphazardly into the drawer. They deserved better treatment, so he folded each one and nestled them back into the drawer. He moved on to the next drawer that contained her T-shirts. Frowning, he shook his head at the
disarray. He would teach her better soon. He folded and sorted them by color before replacing them in the drawer.

He rummaged in her jewelry box and extracted a pair of blue earrings, then put them in his pocket. When he glanced at the bedside clock, he realized he'd been in the house for two hours. She might come back anytime, so he sighed and made his way to the back door. Soon he'd never have to leave.

T
he heavy cloud cover turned the moonless night into inky blackness. Kate maneuvered her Volkswagen along the bumpy dirt road toward her house. When she pulled into the drive, she grimaced at the dark house. She thought she'd flipped on the porch light. The yard light had a dead bulb she meant to have changed as soon as she had the money. She didn't have a ladder long enough to reach it to change it herself. The light from the car pierced a few feet into the darkness as she got out.

As soon as she slammed the door, she couldn't see more than a few inches in front of her face. With her hands held in front of her, she touched the side of the house and shuffled along to the front steps, then grabbed the handrail and mounted the steps to the small porch. Her eyes were adjusting to the pitch black now, and she started to put her key in the lock, but the door creaked. It was standing open a few inches. She really needed to ask Luke to adjust the latch. It hadn't shut right in several weeks.

She pushed open the door and started to enter, but the scent of male cologne wafted toward her. Her eyes widened and she stopped, her fingers clutching the key chain.

A man was inside. Or had been.

She backed up a few feet. “Uncle Paul?” Her voice echoed in
the entry and bounced back at her. She advanced a step closer to the door. “Is that you?” But if her uncle was inside, wouldn't he have turned on the light? Maybe he'd been there earlier and left.

Her groping hand touched the doorjamb, then she reached in and flipped on the dooryard and porch lights. The instant illumination made her blink, but she let her gaze sweep past the tiny entry to the living room beyond.

It was empty of everything but her furniture.

She stood in the doorway and listened, but it was hard to hear anything past the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears.
Idiot! I should be calling for help.

Her purse fell to the floor as she tried to dig for her cell phone, and the contents spilled across the oak floor. Her phone came to a stop under the foyer table, and she dove for it.

Her chest heaved, and her heart pounded as she punched in 911 and told the dispatcher she thought someone had been in her house. The woman told her to lock herself in her car and someone would be there shortly, but Kate retreated only as far as the porch.

The woman kept talking, but Kate slipped the phone into the pocket of her jacket. The dispatcher's strident voice inflamed Kate's nervous energy even more. She peered into the house again. The cologne smelled elusively familiar. Did Uncle Paul even wear aftershave or anything with a scent? She couldn't remember, but surely he was the one who had been in her house. Maybe he was still there, laughing at how skittish she was. He was always telling her to grow a backbone and not be pushed around, but no amount of inner urging made her take a step toward the house again.

“Uncle Paul?” The answering echo made the house sound
empty. Whoever had been there was probably gone. And if it had been her uncle, he would have heard her call for help.

A faint siren pealed in the darkness behind her, and she turned to see a game warden SUV coming her way. Dizzy with relief, she whirled and ran down the steps to meet her cousin as he stepped out of his vehicle.

Kevin peered past her to the house, and his hand went to the butt of his gun. “Kate, you okay?”

“I'm fine. My door was ajar when I got home, and I smelled male cologne. I thought maybe Uncle Paul had broken in.”

“Did you go inside?”

“I stepped into the dooryard and called to him. He didn't answer. The house feels empty, but I didn't want to go in by myself.”

“Wise decision.” He brushed past her and advanced to the porch. “Wait here.”

Kate ignored his order and followed on his heels. He glanced back and frowned but didn't say anything when she tipped up her chin.

He drew his gun when he reached the door. “Game warden! Come out with your hands up.” When no one answered, he stepped into the entry and began to walk through the house.

Kate followed him to the kitchen and watched him inspect the pantry. It was empty. She felt a breeze on her face and turned to look at the back door. It was slightly ajar too. “He left that way.” She stepped to the door and threw the lock. “I need to get a dead bolt.”

“Looks like it.” He sniffed the air. “I smell pizza.”

She caught the scent herself, but everything seemed to be in place. She went to the fridge and opened it. The pizza box from last night was still on the shelf, but the partial piece of pizza she'd put back was missing.

She tossed the box to the counter. No way would she eat those leftovers now. “A partial piece is missing. I don't know why he didn't eat a full piece if he was hungry.”

“Where's your bedroom?”

“Down the hall.” She led the way to the biggest bedroom in the small house, then stood aside while Kevin checked it out. The other bedroom was tiny with barely enough room for the double bed and nightstand it held.

“No one hiding here. Let me check the bathroom.” He stepped across the hall and pulled back the shower curtain to reveal only the empty bathtub and surround. His shoulders relaxed and he holstered his gun. “He seems to have gone. I think you're right and it was Paul. You need to consider him dangerous, Kate.”

“Uncle Paul wouldn't hurt me. I hope he comes back so I can talk to him. He needs to turn himself in before he gets shot.”

He shook his head and frowned. “You never really knew him. I know he was a great uncle to you, but he had a lot of darkness he concealed. I caught him poaching more times than I can count, and he was always mean about it. Be on your guard.”

“I will. Sorry to call you out tonight. Mallory will kill me. Is she doing okay?”

He grinned. “Now that the morning sickness is over, she's busy getting a nursery ready. We just found out we're having a boy. The girls will be thrilled when they hear about it. Haylie's at swim camp, and Sadie is having a blast at a special camp for the blind.”

“That's wonderful!” They already had two girls, one of Kevin's and one of Mallory's. They both deserved to be happy. Kate led him to the door and locked it behind him before walking through the house again. The darkness pressed in on her,
and her unease returned. If only she could call Claire to come stay with her.

After checking the door locks one more time, she shut off the lights and went to her bedroom. When she pulled open the dresser drawer to retrieve a nightgown, her breath caught in her throat and her hand froze over the drawer.

Instead of the jumble of colors and patterns, every item was neatly folded in organized piles. She put her hand to her throat and her pulse jumped beneath her fingers. Uncle Paul wouldn't have done this. He was as messy as a rat in a new nest.

She shuddered and whirled to draw her curtains. Who had been in here? She grabbed her phone and called her sister to tell her she was coming over. The sheriff could figure this out.

C
laire pressed her hand against the butterflies dancing in her stomach as she stared at herself in the mirror. The wedding gown was a mermaid style and accentuated her curves. She didn't even recognize herself. She turned to face her sister. “No other incidents at the house?”

Kate was wearing a deep aquamarine-blue gown in the same style. Her blue eyes looked enormous with her hair swept up. “Nothing, but I jump at every sound. The sheriff didn't find any clues, and I'm back to wondering if it was Uncle Paul. Rearranging the clothes in my drawers sounds weird, but he's been in prison. Maybe he was looking for something and straightened them without thinking. I wonder if Becky told him I wanted to see him. Maybe he hung around for a while, then got tired of waiting. It would make sense with some of the pizza being gone.”

Claire's grandmother stirred from the armchair and beckoned to her. “Come here, my dear girl. I have something for you.”

Claire went to take her grandmother's hand. “I'm not sure I can bend in this dress, Grandma.”

Her grandmother's health had waned this past year. Age had deepened the lines around her eyes, and the constant pain she was in from arthritis made her dark eyes look sunken. Claire
felt a momentary stab of panic. The thought of ever losing her grandmother was a knife to the heart.

“I can get up.” Her grandmother gripped the arms of the chair and struggled to her feet. “Turn around.”

Claire obeyed and her grandmother's cool fingers touched her neck as she fastened a necklace around it. Claire touched the beads. “Your pearl necklace!”

“It was a gift from your grandpa on our wedding day, and we both thought you should have it today. May you enjoy as many happy years of married life as we have.”

Claire turned and bent down to embrace her grandmother's short frame. “Thank you, Grandma. I'll treasure it.”

“I know you will.” Her grandmother reached behind her and practically fell back into the chair.

Claire faced the mirror. The pearls finished the dress. In the distance she heard the thrum of music in the yard. This was really and truly happening. She was about to marry the man she loved and start a new life with him. The enormous blessing of it all tightened her throat.

She turned at a tap on the door. Her mother stepped inside. Her pale-blue suit was a perfect foil for her short blonde hair, and she looked almost young enough to be Claire's older sister. “You look beautiful, Claire.”

Her gaze landed on Kate and her smile faltered. Claire had tried hard to blend her family since she'd found her twin, but her mother never seemed to let go of her stiffness. She made an attempt though with a smile that didn't reach her green eyes. “You look lovely, Kate.”

Kate's fake smile matched the older woman's. “Thank you, Mrs. Dellamare.”

Claire's mother pressed her lips together. “I still wish your father could have gotten out of prison to give you away.”

He was the last person Claire wanted to walk her down the aisle. “Grandpa is a great substitute.”

Her mother inclined her head. “I'm glad you think so.”

“You and Dad are talking?”

“A little.” Her mother stepped forward and adjusted the veil. “I think we'd better get outside. The guests are waiting, and so is Luke.”

Luke.
The man who had swept into her life on the cusp of a wave and had changed it forever. And after today she wouldn't be a Dellamare any longer.

The door opened again and Luke's sister, Megan, poked her head in the doorway. Her brown eyes danced with merriment. “It's time. Luke is pacing the grass like he's going to make a run for it any minute. You'd better get out there and stop him.” Her short, dark hair was in a cute, spiky hairdo.

“I have rope right here.” Claire picked up her bouquet and went to join her soon-to-be new sister. “I'm so glad you were able to get time off for the wedding.” Megan lived in Oregon and studied viruses and mutations.

“I'd have quit my job before I missed this.” Megan opened the door wide and stepped out of the way. “Come on, Claire, your grandpa is waiting to walk you down to the arbor. And let me help you out, Mrs. Dellamare.” She went to assist Claire's grandmother out of her chair.

They'd opted for a small wedding with just a maid of honor and a best man. Claire stepped out the back door to grasp her grandfather's arm. In spite of his age, he looked pretty good in a tux. The music wafted on the wind and she leaned into her grandfather's
embrace as her grandmother, Megan, and Kate went down the steps. Her heart was nearly pounding out of her sequined bodice as the strains of the “Wedding March” grew louder.

“It's time, honey.”

She straightened and rested her fingers on her grandfather's arm. Holding the skirt of her dress up, she descended the stairs from the deck and walked through the grass to where the white paper runner began. Everyone stood and looked her direction, but Claire locked her attention on Luke's face. His tender smile brightened, and he took a step toward her until his best man, Beau Callahan, put his hand on Luke's arm and said something.

Kate stepped out and began to sing “Make You Feel My Love.” The lyrics enveloped Claire, but she was barely conscious of the smiles and nods sent her way as she walked to meet her destiny.

* * *

The past week had sped by, and Kate had turned over the cottage keys to Drake yesterday. She had been busy with her sister's wedding until this morning, so he'd arranged their few belongings, then taken the girls beachcombing until she started work, but today he could finally concentrate on his brother's murder.

Kate had done a fine job with the little cottage. The scent of fresh paint still lingered in the air, and most of the furniture was at least clean and semi-new, probably purchased from a secondhand store. She had a sharp touch with color and furniture arrangement, and an enjoyable summer here with the girls stretched in front of him.

The sound of Kate singing “Father Abraham” with the girls drifted in through the open window as he settled onto the overstuffed sofa. She had a beautiful voice that reminded him of Adele's. His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen before answering it. “Good morning, Lakesha. How's it going?”

“About as well as you'd expect with the boss gone.” Her husky voice held an edge of impatience. “Can you come back, even just for a couple of days? Fish and Wildlife's regional director wants to meet with you personally. I don't think this deal will go forward if he can't speak with you to get a sense of how hard you think it will be to implement his changes. Did you get the documents I e-mailed?”

He'd gotten them but hadn't reviewed them yet. Could one of his competitors know about this? He made a mental note to check with his attorney again. “Hold on, let me take a look.” He opened the first document and absorbed the request. “They want me to add the capability to drop supplies? That's a fairly easy fix, I think. It could be a real boon to remote areas.”

“They like your drones because of the size. We need you here, Drake.”

He sighed and shoved a lock of hair off his forehead. His employees depended on him, and everything in him itched to plunge into the needed modifications. His attention strayed to the box of Heath's belongings he'd been about to dig into, and he wanted to talk to people who might have known about Heath's mental state the week he died. “I just can't come back right now, Lakesha. Let's arrange a video meeting.”

“I suggested that. No go.” She bit the words out as if she was holding back what she really wanted to say.

“Look, I know you think trying to dig into Heath's death
is stupid, but it's something I have to do. I'm trying my hardest here. I've got a lot on my plate right now.”

“I know you do, and I'm sorry to bring you more pressure. But this is important, too, Drake.”

“I know. I'll think about all this and get back to you.”

Her heavy sigh came over the phone. “I could try to put him off for another week.”

“I don't think that will be long enough. Maybe he could come here if he's so determined to meet with me.”

“Get real, Drake. The regional director isn't going to go somewhere so remote. They'll just take their business elsewhere. But I'll keep you posted.” She sounded resigned.

He ended the call. He pushed the problem away for now and pulled the box to him.

The sight of it in front of him shouldn't have caused his pulse to ratchet up. It appeared innocuous enough. Just a standard twelve-by-twenty-four box, but his hands were clammy as he ripped the tape off the top. His chest squeezed when he saw his brother's baseball on top of the pile. All these things had been cleaned out of Heath's desk. Heath's pride and joy was this ball signed by Reggie Jackson. It had been owned by their dad who had caught a fly ball in Reggie's final game in '87.

Drake ran his fingers over the ball and blinked back the moisture in his eyes. This jumble of belongings had to be gone through just in case there was a clue to what had happened to Heath.

He lifted out the contents: a tweed jacket that still held Heath's scent, basketball trophies, framed educational diplomas, a desk pen and pencil set, several leadership books, and then a stack of folders. Two files, both a couple of inches thick,
contained copies of every scrap of information Heath had on the Chen Wang case. There was a file of bills also, but Drake set it aside until he'd gone through the more important files.

He rubbed his eyes and opened the first file. The details of the Wang crimes made him want to slam the file shut and go play in the sunshine, but he forced himself to keep reading about murders, robberies, extortion, and beheadings. He'd need a shower by the time he was done. His eyes grew bleary as he flipped through page after page until only a couple remained in the second folder.

No doubt about it, these guys—Wang in particular—were some of the worst criminals in the world. Terror and death followed the gang's every movement. Why hadn't Heath backed away from defending Wang immediately?

Drake couldn't hear the children any longer, and he assumed Kate had taken them down to the water at the back of the property. He forced himself to reach for the next-to-last sheet of paper. It appeared to be a log of text messages. He caught his breath when he recognized the originating number on the cell phone. Why would Heath get a log of Melissa's text messages? As he scanned the messages, the pieces fell into place.

Melissa had been having an affair with Wang.

The list of times and meeting places was extensive and included expensive hotels like the Ritz-Carlton and the Mandarin Oriental. Could this be why Heath hadn't backed away after realizing what kind of man he was defending? Maybe he wanted to take down Wang instead of defend him. And it might have led to his death. Had he confronted Wang and the man decided to eliminate the problem?

But why kill Melissa too? Maybe she'd learned something
incriminating, and Wang had to silence her. Was Heath just collateral damage? Drake leaned back against the sofa and exhaled. He had to think this through and make no assumptions. Melissa could have been the target all along and not Heath.

But why would sweet Melissa have gotten involved with such an evil man? He couldn't wrap his head around the thought of her with Chen, especially after reading files detailing all the man's crimes. This put a different twist on the deaths out on that rock. And he had to find out what happened.

He glanced at the clock. He'd promised the girls he'd design a new decoding puzzle, so he grabbed some paper and wrote out the simple code they were used to, then spelled out clues for them to find some new stuffed animals he'd hidden for them. For good measure, he created two more puzzles for them to decipher when they got bored.

He rubbed his forehead when a dart of pain throbbed. He was finding it hard to balance everything he had to do.