The Injustice of Valor, page 13
Inside the cabin, she found contact information for the owner—Kayleigh Cox, with a phone number. Fat lot of good that would do with no phone service. The address, though, was for The Grounds. She recalled Connor saying something about living at The Grounds. Was Kayleigh his mother? Perhaps she’d have some idea of where Shelby might’ve gone. But she hated to bug them unnecessarily.
Val glanced over at Sammy…fast asleep on the sofa. The afternoon had worn him out. Not her, though—she needed exercise. She wrote a quick note for him to stay put until she returned, pulled on her running shirt and pants, and headed out for a quick run. Val relished the unexpected opportunity for exercise, limited as it was, and reached a quick six-minute-mile pace within the first few hundred yards. The cool breeze dried the sweat from her forehead as soon as it appeared. Her legs lost their stiffness, and she fell into a steady rhythm. She followed the winding paved road for about a mile through a mix of meadows, forest, and pasture, drinking in the fresh country air. Running, as always, cleared her head, and she realized she should check in with the Coxes about Shelby—to ease her mind, if nothing else.
Then she turned around, kicked into high gear, and raced back, graining speed with every step, imagining the trouble Sammy got into during her absence.
Val need not have worried. He hadn’t budged from the sofa during her fifteen-minute run, so far as she could tell, and she roused him from his slumber with a gentle shake of his shoulder.
“Is it dinnertime?” he asked, rubbing sleepy-sand out of his eyes.
“Almost,” Val said. “First, we need to run a quick errand.”
They climbed into her Honda and, ten minutes later, she spied a high stone wall and drove along it for several hundred feet before reaching the gated entrance. A faded engraved-brass sign announced she’d reached The Grounds. She lowered her window and pressed the buzzer to one side of the locked iron gate.
A muffled woman’s voice answered. “Who is it?”
“Valorie Dawes,” she said. “I’m staying at the cabin with Shelby Clearwater. She went for a hike this morning and hasn’t returned. Can I chat with you for a minute?”
After a few seconds, the woman replied, “Yes, of course. Come in.” Something buzzed, and the iron gate creaked open.
Val drove up a long, curved driveway that cut through acres of golf-green-perfect grass. Occasional clumps of topiary and flower gardens lined the drive, boasting a rash of crocus, budding forsythia, and a few tips of bulb flowers poked through the surface. At the end of the path, a three-story brick-and-fieldstone mansion with thick white columns arose from the turf as if it had grown there, along with the mature flora surrounding it—rose vines, lilac bushes, arborvitae, and what looked like miniature spruce. An oversized black door with gold inlays and a giant brass knocker dominated the front patio. She wondered why they’d need a knocker, given the walls and gated entrance. Then again, it appeared older than everything else. Maybe the stone perimeter walls came later.
“Stay in the car—I’ll just be a minute,” she said to Sammy. When he didn’t reply, she glanced back at him and smiled. He’d fallen asleep again during the short drive over. She locked the Honda and approached the front of the mansion.
The giant door opened, and a slender waif of a woman in a linen dress and blue sandals appeared in the doorway. She appeared to be in her thirties, with deep-set eyes that seemed sad, despite the smile creasing her delicate face.
“Come in, Miss Dawes,” the woman said. “I’m Kayleigh Cox. I believe you’ve met my son Connor?” Kayleigh stepped aside and waved Val in. “And,” she said, “this is my husband, Theo.”
A fortyish man about six feet tall with a trim, athletic build entered the room, wearing slacks and a crisp dress shirt. He smiled at her, with straight, white teeth that seemed too small for his mouth. He wore his dirty-blond hair cut in a conservative “High and Tight” style like a lot of her colleagues on the police force, reinforcing an aura of personal power that emanated from his confident smile. “Connor’s told us about you,” he said, offering a firm handshake. Theo glanced around Val. “No Sammy? Connor loves his new rock-skipping buddy.”
“No, Sammy’s taking a quick nap.” Val suppressed a pang of guilt for not bringing him in, but she wanted the visit to focus on Shelby. She followed Kayleigh into a small adjacent sitting room and sat on a white leather loveseat, and the Coxes sat together on the matching sofa opposite her. The aroma of roasting meat and fresh bread wafted into the room. “I won’t stay long,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. I should come back later.”
“Oh, I hope you’ll stay and dine with us,” Kayleigh said. “Though I suppose you’d need to retrieve Sammy. Or we can send a car—Theo, is Miss Embley still on the premises?”
Theo’s smile faded into a tight grimace and his eyes turned glassy. “No,” he said, his voice terse. “She’s gone for the day. Of course, Ms. Dawes and her son are welcome anytime.”
“Sammy’s my brother,” she said, “and thank you, but tonight I’ll have to take a rain check.” Val also wanted to get back to the cabin soon in case Shelby returned. “As I was explaining to your wife, Mr. Cox, my—”
“Theo, please.” His pleasant smile returned.
“Theo. Thank you. My friend Shelby, who rented the cabin from you, has been missing all day. I wondered if you’d heard from her or might know where she could’ve gone?”
Theo squinted at Val, as if perturbed by her question. He turned to his wife. “You rented the cabins?” He shook his head. “Off-season? News to me.”
“I…wasn’t going to allow it,” Kayleigh said. “Sanjit seemed so nice, though, and… well, he mentioned her last name—Clearwater—and that sold me. Can you imagine, Theo? Like the creek. It seemed so fitting to allow them to vacation in a place named for her.”
“She and her boyfriend, you say? Well, that explains it, doesn’t it?” Theo laughed, a sudden joviality that startled Val a bit. She saw where Connor got some of his social awkwardness. “Let me guess. He’s also ‘missing’ this evening?”
“Sanjit returned to Clayton this morning. Shelby and I planned to spend some girl time for the next few days…although my brother joining us sort of complicates that…and, anyway, she’s been gone all day.” Val didn’t know why she got so flustered. Something about the intense stares from both Kayleigh and Theo unnerved her. Her desire to keep the visit brief intensified.
“Well, I haven’t seen her,” Theo said. “I didn’t even know she was here. Kayleigh? Since you arranged this behind my back, perhaps the two of you had something going, a secret gathering of some kind?” His smile, directed at his wife, contained no mirth, and his voice was edged in steel.
“No, of course not. Why would you say such a thing?” Kayleigh sprinkled a light laugh in among her words, delivered in an almost frivolous tone. Such an odd couple.
“Kayleigh, why don’t you ask Connor if he’s seen Shelby—that’s the name, right? Shelby?”
“Good idea, Theo,” Kayleigh said, and she leaned toward him, lips pursed to kiss his cheek.
Theo pulled away before the kiss landed. He ignored the hurt expression on Kayleigh’s face and waited for her to disappear into the next room before sidling closer to Val.
“I didn’t want to offer this while my wife was present,” Theo said in a low voice. “It’s probably worth our while to check with my brother, Ambrose, to see if he’s, ah, encountered your friend today.” He cleared his throat. “My brother lives in a cottage on the opposite end of the property, and he’s been lurking around the creek in recent days.”
“That would be great,” Val said. “How can I reach him?”
“I’ll call him,” Theo said. “Better yet, I’ll go confront him in person. Ambrose has a nasty habit of ignoring my calls when he’s, uh…on the prowl, so to speak?” He rolled his eyes. “Am is a bit of a playboy. Another reason to keep him away from a pretty young lady like you.”
Pretty? Still sweaty and dressed in running clothes, Val felt anything but. Theo’s compliment seemed calculated and disingenuous. “I can take care of myself, but I appreciate the help,” she said. “Whatever you think is best.”
“Leave me your number,” Theo said. “I’ll call once I know something.”
“Connor hasn’t seen her, either,” Kayleigh said, re-entering the room, although this time she remained standing. “I’m sorry. If she calls, how can we reach you?”
“Here you go,” Val said, handing Kayleigh—not Theo—a business card. “My cell number is in the bottom right. Although cell service here is pretty spotty, to say the least.”
“It often is,” Kayleigh said. “Oh, you’re a police officer, Miss Dawes?”
“Off-duty at the moment,” Val said.
Theo’s eyes narrowed, and he gave her that icy smile again. “Your investigative skills should far outpace ours, then.”
“I ought to get back before Sammy wakes up,” Val said. “Thank you both so much.”
“Are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” Kayleigh said. “We’d love to get to know you—”
“Miss Dawes already made her intentions clear,” Theo said, irritation in his voice. “Won’t you respect her wishes, darling?”
Kayleigh dropped her gaze, holding the tips of the fingers of one hand in the other. “Yes, dear. Of course. I was just—”
“Connor is waiting for us at the dinner table,” Theo said. “We should rejoin him. I’ll show you out, Miss Dawes.”
He ushered Val to the exit, practically pushing her outside, and the door eased shut behind her.
Sammy woke up when Val started the car. “Where are we?” he asked.
The pang of guilt returned. “I…had a meeting,” she said. “We’re heading back now.” The gate opened in front of her and closed moments after she drove through it. The Coxes—father, mother, son—were a strange bunch. Beyond that, though, something was amiss. Theo seemed ready to explode at a moment’s notice, especially at Kayleigh, who seemed cowed, even frightened, in his presence. While she welcomed their help in searching for Shelby, she worried about what else she might learn about this strange, wealthy family.
Connor curled up on his bed, his dinner growing cold and untouched on his desk. Dad sent him to his room without supper for “interrupting” his boring stories about the land he wanted to buy or sell or build something on. But Mom came by to “check on him,” and snuck him some macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, his favorite. Way better than the slimy scalloped potatoes and strange-smelling meat they were eating. And asparagus, gag. Who would eat that on purpose?
He stared at the underside of the upper bunk, a bed no one ever used except sometimes Connor played Action Figure Fighting up there. Someday he’d make a friend his own age who’d use it on a sleepover. Like Sammy, maybe. He’d hoped that, when the Valorie lady showed up, she was bringing Sammy over for dinner and then he might stay the night. But Sammy didn’t come with her. Not even that Shelby lady came with her. Miss Valorie seemed upset that she couldn’t find her friend. Hey, at least she had one.
The reason Connor interrupted his parents at dinner was, he remembered seeing Shelby earlier that day, hiking the trail along the creek all by herself. She’d looked sad and Connor wondered where Sanjit was. Maybe she missed him and that’s why she was sad—or maybe they’d argued, like Mom and Dad do sometimes. That always made him sad.
Before dinner, Connor overheard his parents saying to Valorie they hadn’t seen Shelby all day, which was probably true because they never went outdoors, at least not outside The Grounds. He thought he should tell them he’d seen her so they could tell Miss Valorie. But not if they were going to punish him for it.
He’d also spotted Uncle Am down there, hiking the same trail in the same direction, ten or fifteen minutes before Shelby. Mom and Dad always warned him to stay away from his uncle. Sometimes Am found Connor, though, and they would talk for a minute or two. That wasn’t Connor’s fault. He didn’t go knocking on his uncle’s front door asking him to be friends. Uncle Ambrose always started it. Always.
The thing is, Uncle Am always treated Connor like a pal. Friendly, never mean, asking him about his adventures and exploring and stuff he’d learned in homeschool. Mom sometimes called him “creepy” when she didn’t think Connor could hear, and he wondered why. Creepy meant doing gross things that monsters or swamp critters did—drooling or smiling weird or taking their kills back to their lairs. Ambrose never did anything like that to Connor. He didn’t even own a real “lair.” Just a little cottage across the property.
Where he was supposed to stay, Dad said. That was “their deal.”
Still. Maybe he should say something about seeing Uncle Am? That might help the Valorie lady find her friend and make Shelby less sad.
But then Mom would blame Uncle Am for Shelby going away, and Dad would yell and slam things, and Uncle Am might get in trouble. If Uncle Am had seen Connor, he’d realize that Connor was the snitch, and then he really might do something creepy or horrible. Or Mom and Dad might yell at him for being a tattle-tale. He hated getting in trouble almost as much as the creepy stuff he imagined his uncle might do. Plus, it probably had nothing to do with Shelby going away or being sad.
Nope. Connor would not be a snitch. No way.
He sat up and grabbed his plate off his desk, took a bite of cheesy-mac-and-hot-dog. Not too cold, and still good.
He loved his mom. And Dad, even if he didn’t sneak him supper after punishing him. But especially Mom.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MINUTES LATER, VAL parked her Honda back at the cabin, still unnerved by the encounter with the Coxes. Something about Kayleigh and Theo left her uneasy. One or both seemed to hold back something important from her. Something about Connor, perhaps? She wondered if she should discourage Sammy from hanging out with him.
Then again, knowing him, an adult telling Sammy “No” would only make him more determined than ever to befriend the boy.
Once inside, she checked messages. Still no word from Gil and no sign of Shelby. Her worry intensified. She needed to step up her search.
“I’m hungry,” Sammy said, rubbing his tummy. “What’s for dinner?”
After a long day, cooking seemed a daunting task. Val half-wished she’d accepted the Coxes’ invitation to dine with them.
“How about we go out?” Val said.
“I want hamburgers!” Sammy said, brightening. “McDonald’s!”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Val said. “We’ll go right after I shower.”
“Hurry, I’m starving. Wait, I gotta pee!” Sammy ran into the bathroom ahead of her, not even closing the door before dropping his pants to the floor.
Val shut the door for him and chose a pair of jeans, a warm pull-over, and comfy flats from her suitcase. Once Sammy emerged from the bathroom—after a return trip to wash his hands—she showered in record time. She took a few extra minutes to dry her hair and apply a quick dab of lipstick. Val wondered why—she didn’t even always do that for dinners out with Gil. But in a strange town, it felt necessary.
Greenville had no McDonald’s, and the Italian place that Larkin’s pal Vinnie mentioned was closed. She found a family-style restaurant in the tiny downtown area, a dusty old joint with a broad menu and placemats with games and coloring for kids. After the server brought their drinks—soda for Sammy, lemonade for Val—Sammy ordered a burger and Val a chicken Caesar salad. When Sammy excused himself to pee yet again, she signaled the server, a twenty-something white dude with nose piercings and bright red hair cut into a fluffy crop.
“Refill on your drinks?” He reached for their tall, red plastic cups.
“Sure. But first,” she added when he seemed eager to peel away, “have you seen this woman in the last day or so?” Val showed him a picture on her phone, an old headshot of Shelby she’d found on Instagram.
“Nope. You a cop?” the server asked.
“I’m not investigating her,” Val said. “She’s a friend of mine and we were supposed to meet at her cabin today. She hasn’t shown her face all day. I wondered if she’d gotten sidetracked downtown or something.”
“Girl,” he said with a drawl, “there ain’t enough to do in Greenville, downtown or otherwise, to sidetrack someone for that long. Have you checked the bars?”
“That’s next,” Val said. “Which ones would you recommend?”
“All of them,” the server said. “Trust me, it won’t take long.”
Val Googled “Greenville bars” and found six—only four of which were open on Sundays. Two of them were gay- and trans-friendly bars. That helped narrow it down.
Sammy returned a moment later, and their food came soon after, so she focused on keeping Sammy from tossing his French fries onto the floor.
“They let us throw peanut shells on the floor,” he complained. “Why not fries? They’re too hard, anyway.”
“Just don’t. What do you want to do after dinner?”
“Play games,” Sammy said.
“There’s a video arcade up the street,” Val said. “If you finish your hamburger, I’ll bring you.”
“Awesome sauce!” Sammy chowed down with renewed gusto.
Meanwhile, Val picked at her soggy Caesar salad, pushing aside the four strips of chicken that, though charred on the outside, remained ice cold in the middle. When Sammy gave up on finishing his burger and dipped his third French fry into his mostly-ice Coke, she gave up and settled the bill.
They walked to the arcade and she bought Sammy ten bucks worth of game credits, hoping it would last at least a half-hour. He ran straight to an immersive shoot-em-up spaceship adventure, one that took several minutes to finish. Meanwhile, Val tried Shelby’s phone again—voicemail. Then she searched local news sites for stories of car crashes, missing persons, and anything else she could think of that might provide a clue as to her friend’s whereabouts. Nothing.
