Buried Secrets, page 17
“What’s up, sister?” He leaned on the door frame. “What are you and your pretty friend doing out here?” The main lights in the shop were on, and the two women were moving a four-by-six piece of plywood.
Tuesday’s scream made him smile. “Jesus, October. Did you really think it necessary to sneak in here and scare the crap out of us?”
“No sneaking about it. I walked right up. Maybe if you weren’t doing something all covert out here and trying to get in and out without me noticing, you’d have heard me.”
Tuesday stared, her stance defensive. “We’re not doing anything covert.”
“Right. And the boards?” He pointed to the sheet of plywood Tuesday held at one end while a tall, dark-haired woman with intense eyes held the other. A little tingle started in his nether regions. A smile threatened to break out. Probably one of his sister’s girl-loving friends, but okay with him. He liked a challenge. Oh, hell, he liked them all. Men, women, gay, straight, willing…not willing. Now the smile did sneak out.
“Broken window at the rental.” She started to move toward the door and stopped when she got to him. “Do you mind?”
He stepped away from the doorway and waved toward her truck. “As you wish.”
“Maybe you could help?”
He laughed and started to walk back to the house. “Looks to me like you two have it under control. I’m confident you can handle your little project. I better go check on our mother.” He stopped and looked back. “You remember her? The woman dying of cancer that you came here to help take care of and yet have been nowhere to be found all day.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughed and clapped as he walked. “Oh, the great and perfect Tuesday finally swears. A day full of wonders.”
When he got to his car, he still smiled. That he’d gotten Tuesday to utter the f-word out loud had just made his night. Might have to indulge in another shot to celebrate. First, he opened the car door and grabbed the phone he used to communicate with Pauly. He’d meant to toss it into the Columbia River when he crossed the bridge at Vantage and spaced it. That would have been ideal, but he’d settle for the sledgehammer solution instead.
It rang as he headed toward the garage. Not possible. The only one who had the number had been Pauly, and he wouldn’t be calling now or ever. He thought about ignoring it, and then curiosity got the better of him.
“Yeah.”
The static again. The voice. “You’re going to pay.”
“Fuck off.” He threw the phone to the ground and smashed it with his foot.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m sorry about that. You just got introduced, sort of, to the great and powerful October. Wonder boy and apple of everyone’s eyes.” Tuesday gripped the sheet of plywood so tight, she wouldn’t be surprised if she made dents in the wood.
“Especially your mother’s?” Addie asked.
“You catch on quick.” Couldn’t help the bitter edge.
“But not the apple of your eye.”
Not a question. She answered anyway. “Never. More like a giant pain in the ass.” She continued toward the doorway, the plywood heavy in her hands.
They loaded it, along with a power drill and some wood screws, in the back of her SUV. Took a little work to get the plywood in there, but they made it fit. It should be enough to secure the window until they could get a new one installed. Hopefully, it would keep Addie safe until then. If not, she’d be more than willing to pay for her hotel room. She didn’t want her staying anywhere that wasn’t secure. She’d been only partially worried about wildlife and bats coming in through the broken glass.
She got back into her SUV, Tripper now sitting in the passenger seat since the rear had been filled with supplies. She backed up and pointed the truck toward the house and the driveway. Addie followed in her car.
As she pulled in front of the house, she stopped and put it in Park. Some of the windows of the house glowed with light. She got out and walked to Addie’s car.
When Addie rolled down the window, she leaned close and said, “You could stay here.” The mansion had enough room for ten people, with a nice guest room on the other side of the house from the rooms Mother and October used.
Addie smiled and shook her head. “Not necessary, though I appreciate the offer.”
“But the window. You wouldn’t have to worry about it here or that the crazy woman might come back.” Addie seemed confident she wouldn’t come back. Tuesday wasn’t all that convinced.
Addie put her hand on Tuesday’s arm. “Hey, once we board that baby up, it’ll be nice and secure. No raccoons and no crazy lady.”
“She knows where you’re staying.” Couldn’t ignore the obvious.
“And I’ll be keeping an eye out for her, if your sheriff hasn’t caught up with her yet. Hope he does. That will be entertaining. Hell hath no fury like a sheriff crossed.”
“That’s truer than you know. You’re taking all of this pretty well.” Tuesday didn’t get her easy attitude toward the events of the day. Just as the possibility existed that the body Tripper had located could turn out to be her father, it could as easily be Addie’s brother. That had to weigh as heavy on her as it did on Tuesday.
Addie shrugged as she looked into Tuesday’s eyes. “Yeah, well, what can you do?”
Something in her voice made Tuesday’s eyes narrow. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Spit it out. Look, I’ve spent a career talking to people, and I know when someone’s holding something back. What is it?”
Addie glanced toward the big house, before she returned her gaze to Tuesday’s face. “Your brother.”
* * *
Hard to say that out loud. Tuesday had been nothing except nice, caring, and accommodating since the moment they met. Someone who’d been through what she had and still had grace and kindness in her—amazing and impressive. So, she struggled with how she could tell her of the darkness that rushed through her as she’d gazed into eyes as blue as a summer sky. They should have been beautiful. They weren’t. Despite their light color, darkness lay behind them, coiled and waiting to be set free. Chilling at a glacial level.
Tuesday’s expression clearly showed her confusion. “What do you mean? I get that he’s a giant asshole, but honestly, he barely let it out back there. I was somewhat impressed by his restraint. He lives to embarrass me.”
“I don’t know how to even tell you.” First time since they’d met that Addie hesitated to speak the truth.
“Just say it. That’s usually the easiest.”
Addie didn’t disagree. Still didn’t make it any easier to get the words past her lips. She took a breath. “You know how I said I saw your face? That I have visions?”
“I do.”
“It’s more than visions. I can sense evil.” God, that sounded like something straight out of a graphic novel. Some cheesy superhero power. If Tuesday hadn’t considered her a weirdo before, she’d be certain to think so now.
Tuesday patted her arm. “You know what? Let’s table this topic for the moment. We need to fix that window, and we can talk it through back at the cabin. Sound like a plan?”
“Works for me.” Yes, indeed, happy to table this particular conversation and get back to the window repair. She made it down the driveway first, Tuesday behind her. The darkness made the road harder to navigate, but she finally saw the turn that would take her to the cabin.
Not long after, Tuesday pulled up in front of the log home, the SUV’s headlights shining on the window with the bullet holes surrounded by spider cracks. She pulled up next to Addie’s vehicle, and the lights of her car lit it up even more. Looked worse in the glare of the double set of lights. She turned off the engine and got out at the same time as Tuesday.
When Tuesday opened the back of her SUV so they could retrieve the supplies, the light of the hatch shone on her face. She looked interested, not skeptical. Not insulted either. A hopeful sign. Together they got the plywood out and carried it to the cabin.
As they worked on the repair, Tuesday said to her, “Tell me more about your abilities.”
She stood looking at the plywood leaning up against the house for a moment. Start with the normal stuff . “I’m good at my job for a number of reasons. I’m well-trained, had great mentors, and I’m highly motivated.”
Tuesday tilted her head as she took some wood screws from a small box. “As they say on the Infomercials, but wait, there’s more.”
She smiled. “Definitely. The little extra that lets me know where to go, who to look at. Who to trust.” She stared into Tuesday’s eyes.
“Who not to trust.”
Might as well spit it out. “And who to be wary of. I’m sorry. Something’s very off about your brother. He’s hiding something. Maybe hiding a lot.”
Tuesday put the screws on the windowsill as she picked up a case of bits for her drill. She glanced up at Addie. “Would it shock you to know it doesn’t surprise me?”
“Seriously?” It did surprise her. They might not be close, but he was still her brother. Blood counted for a great deal in most situations.
She picked out a tip for the drill. “Fucking A. He’s been a freak his whole damn life.”
Addie rocked back on her heels. Not what she’d been expecting. The rare times she’d shared her unique talents, she’d always experienced a great deal of trepidation. Very, very few knew her truth because of that. Now wasn’t any different, except it did feel different, and in a very good way. The easy acceptance she received from Tuesday warmed her. She’d savor it for a few seconds because what she felt compelled to share next probably wouldn’t go over well.
“There’s a frightening darkness in him. He’s not a good man.” There, she’d said it.
Tuesday didn’t pause as she secured the selected tip into the drill. “Again, while I’d like to say that surprises me, I can’t. I saw it when we were kids. Pretty certain my dad did too. My mother always made excuses for him. She still does. No matter what he did, she covered for him. Trouble never touched her baby boy. Me? She’d have thrown me to the wolves in a nano-second.”
Tuesday’s acceptance emboldened her to share more. “It rolls off him in giant, dark waves. Almost hit me like a hard punch in the face. That kind of person makes me want to step back and away.”
“I always wanted to step away to get out of the range of his fists.” She powered up the drill and drove in one of the wood screws.
“He hit you?” She almost let go of the plywood she held against the window frame. Her distaste for the man had just morphed into fury. She didn’t tolerate abuse from anyone.
She nodded as she grabbed another screw. “More than once.”
Addie understood personalities, the good and the bad. Spent her life distinguishing between the two. Not a trained professional when it came to psychological disorders, but she had good friends who were, and they had given her a ton of information that had armed her well. A kid who didn’t hesitate to hit and hurt a sibling, well, there were some serious issues there. This news tracked with the energy she’d picked up from the brother.
One more truth she felt compelled to share—a combination of her experience, education, and otherworldly sense. She looked at Tuesday out of the corner of her eye. “He’s dangerous.”
Tuesday shrugged. “He’s an asshole, I’ll admit to that, and given the way our mother coddled him, excused every rotten thing he ever did and protected him from a single consequence, the guy didn’t have a chance. He had no choice but to become a narcissist.”
She’d been around her fair share of narcissists. He ran far deeper than the textbook classic. “He’s more than that.” She didn’t think Tuesday fully understood what she was trying to tell her.
Tuesday set down the drill. Eight wood screws secured the plywood over the remains of the picture window. “Maybe.”
Addie wanted her to truly understand. “No maybe about it.”
“He’s a jerk.” She stared out into the darkness as if searching for something. Answers, perhaps? Or maybe confirmation.
“Yeah.” Even in the few minutes he’d been around, jerk came through loud and clear.
Tuesday picked up the drill again, stared at it, and said quietly, “And he’s dangerous.”
* * *
That fucking Tuesday had driven away and didn’t appear to be coming back. Typical. Just like when she left for college and never returned home. Little bitch left him with everything. Oh, she excused herself again and again. Always something that prevented her from getting back here. Finals, a job, a trip with her friends. It all sounded good and effective in keeping her from facing any responsibilities with the family. Didn’t upset Mother, who never bothered to hide her preference for him over Tuesday.
Over the years he’d played off that preference. It worked for him until the excessive clinginess from their mother began to grate on him. He liked the freedom to do as he wished. One reason he’d moved far from here, even when he had to leave his special secrets behind. Her constant calls and the demands for attention wore him down, and his return trips grew farther and farther apart. The day she’d called to tell him she had terminal cancer, he’d celebrated with a few close friends. What a good night that had been. Complete and total freedom beckoned just beyond the tips of his fingers.
He checked one more time on the old bat, and, satisfied the drugs had done the job, he closed the door and walked back downstairs. That she looked like shit, icing on the cake. Wouldn’t be too much longer. Couldn’t come soon enough.
Now, hours of freedom stretched out before him. If Tuesday came back, he’d be surprised. He didn’t think they’d slept under the same roof for over twenty years. In his mind, he made a better only child, and Mother had treated him that way by and large, even when Tuesday had been at home. The look on her face earlier said she preferred her little friend over hanging around the family home with her only parent and sibling. Worked for him. The less he had to explain, or lie, if he were being totally honest, the better.
In the back pantry, he found a headlamp on the top shelf. Some things never change. Always some kind of light in good working condition and with fresh batteries on that shelf. Living on a working ranch required one to be prepared. His mother might have relied on staff to keep the place running, but that didn’t mean she’d given up on lifelong lessons. Until she’d gotten sick, she could saddle a horse, buck a bale, and muck a stall. If a crisis arose in the night, she’d have been in this pantry grabbing one of the headlamps and riding out to the pastures to put everything back in order.
He had his own kind of order to handle now. So many years since he’d been there last. That he’d denied himself the pleasure had been part of his grand plan. Well, that and safety. Above all else, he’d had to consider how to stay safe, and if that meant denying this great treat, then so be it. In his mind, it all combined to make him a better man, if that were actually possible. He considered himself a pretty damned good man as it were.
The safety valves had been opened wide in the last twenty-four hours. He’d always known this day would come, and he hadn’t been wrong. With Mother out and Tuesday MIA, the time had now arrived. His feet moved faster over the tidy grass and beyond the stables. A full moon shone overhead, lighting up the pastures and illuminating the trees just beyond. The light seemed to beckon him, welcome him, and his heart filled. All around him the signs pointed to this being his moment. He smiled and hurried, the invisible path known to his heart.
Deep into the trees, he slowed. Were those voices? Still? Shouldn’t be anyone out here, especially this time of night. He’d waited them out, and his path to his special place should be safe and secure. They’d stopped him earlier, and he’d exercised his most excellent patience. He walked a little farther, and his jaw tightened. Definitely voices, and they grew louder as he kept going, his steps light and silent, a talent he’d perfected over the years. He squinted and peered ahead. Lights. What in the actual fuck? Why? Why would they still be here?
And then he saw the crime-scene tape, and inside it, staring down at the disturbed ground, stood his old buddy, Rolf.
Chapter Twenty
After they completed the repairs to the window and stood admiring their work, Tripper sat in front of Tuesday, giving her the look. She knew it well and smiled. She ran her hand over his big head. “Yes. I have your dinner.”
Certain things became habit, and always keeping a small bin of dog food and bottled water in her truck would be one of them. Working in the field, she never knew how long they’d be there, and a boy needed to eat. Already way past his dinnertime and he’d been supremely patient. For a dog, he could read a room well.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Addie said. “I’ve tied you up all day, and it never even occurred to me that he needed his dinner. Surprise you much that I don’t have any pets?”
Tuesday laughed. “Not a problem. We’re used to unpredictable schedules. Thing is, this smart boy knows there’s food in the truck. He believes, correctly, that we’re done with our work and wants his dinner.”
“How about you?”
“What about me?” Tuesday slid the tools back into the SUV.
“You want some dinner? Or do you need to go back to the house to take care of your mother?”
Tuesday didn’t even hesitate. She closed the back hatch and smiled. “I would love some dinner, and no, I don’t have to go back to babysit my mother. October took his sweet time getting here, and he can be on deck for a change.” If she had her way, she wouldn’t go back at all tonight. Wouldn’t be the first time she and Tripper had slept in the truck.
“I’ve got a couple steaks and the makings for a Caesar salad.” Addie stopped, her eyes wide. “Oh crap, are you a vegan or something? I should have asked what you like before I blabbered on about red meat.”
