Cold Silence (A High Stakes Thriller) (19 page)

Cody paced the floor of the small covered patio at the back of Colonel Turner's house. The boards rattled beneath her in tempo as she moved.
Squeak, squeak
then a long
moan, step, step;
then the whole sequence repeated as she started the circle again.

The colonel finally looked up, peering at her from over his bifocals. "Are you going to stop that?"

"It's driving me crazy to just sit here."

"Then help me. I think this could be the legionary ant, but I'm not sure. This is a lousy picture."

"It's the best I could do."

The colonel nodded. "I just can't tell if the thing has a pedicel."

Cody stopped pacing. "A what?"

The colonel motioned her over. "A pedicel—a waist. Look at this and tell me if you think the thorax and abdomen are broadly jointed or if they taper at the waist."

Impatient, Cody pulled the paper from his grasp and tilted it under the light. She turned it forward and back. "I don't know. I can't tell."

He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his nose in a gesture that looked like he was holding off his agitation. "Well, you need to look more closely. It makes a big difference. If it's got a pedicel, then it's definitely in the wasp or bee family, or maybe the legionary ant. If it doesn't, it could be a sawfly." He leaned over to look at the page again. "Can you tell if it has clubbed antennae?"

She squinted. "You mean little balls on top?"

"Right. They widen toward the ends."

She nodded slowly. "I think they do." She paused and looked again. "Definitely. Clubbed antennae on this thing, and I don't think it has a waist." She looked over at him. "What does that mean?"

He gave her a little smile. "It means it could be a sawfly." He pointed up at the shelves. "Pull down a few of those and look for any references to sawflies." He kept his nose in his book without responding.

"Where are sawflies found?"

The colonel looked up and shook his head. "It'll depend on the type. They've got some in Canada and New England and some out here. I can't say until we've found it." He looked back down. "You're just going to have to be a little more patient."

The breath froze in her chest. "Canada or out here? Like mountainous regions? The Sierras or the Canadian Rockies?"

He shrugged. "Don't know yet. I've got to find the right one."

"The Sierras or the Rockies?" she repeated.

"I said I don't know yet."

"What about the Himalayas or the Alps?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, maybe there, too."

Dread paralyzed her. This wasn't the answer. She needed to do something else. But what? She felt completely powerless. She had been able to find out who hosted the www.ivegotpeter website, but that was as far as she'd gotten. She'd called the website hosting company, but they had refused her any additional information. When she'd tried to escalate the issue, the supervisor had said he could shut down the site for displaying a minor, but that was the last thing she wanted them to do. She wished she knew someone who worked there. But she knew almost no one, period.

Travis was even asking his employees if anyone had a contact at the Web hosting service, Align.com, but so far no luck.

In the meantime, Cody was going positively crazy.

He pointed to the books. "You found the sawfly yet?"

She stared at the books. Impatience itched her skin like poison oak.

"Get to it," he said, and then focused on the book in front of him.

He was right. She had to follow this through. Find the damn bug. She pulled one off the shelf and opened it, blinking off the headache that had descended like a vise on her temples.

She flipped through three books before she found a listing of the sawfly. When she flipped to the page, she found a photo of the
Tenthredo originalis.
"I found it." She exhaled, defeated. "And it doesn't look anything like the one Ryan has."

The colonel knelt beside her and smiled. "That's the Northeastern sawfly. Not the one we've got." He flipped the page. "Ours is this guy, I'm pretty sure."

She looked down at the picture. "The rusty willow sawfly?"

"Yep, the
Cimbex rubida."

"Where's it found?"

He scanned the page with one finger. "Says river margins and lowland woods from coastal California to the Sierra Nevada mountains."

She exhaled. "So he's still in California."

He frowned without speaking.

"What? What is it?"

"There's another sawfly called the Western willow sawfly, or
Cimbex pacifica."

"What about it?"

"It's almost impossible to tell the two apart."

Cody heard her voice rise as she spoke. "And where's that one found?"

He blew out his breath and pointed to the page.

She lifted the book from his fingers and brought it up to read. "In Colorado or from California to Washington." She dropped it into her lap. She moaned. "This isn't working. It's not exact enough. I need something else."

"We knew it wasn't going to be exact enough with one bug to find him."

She stood. "That may be all we get. How do we know we'll get another?"

The colonel stood as well, though the process took him longer. "Because he's your son. He'll find a way."

She shook her head. Waiting on Ryan wasn't enough. "I can't just sit here and hope he gets another chance."

"You need to have more faith."

"Faith has never paid off for me, Colonel. Action is what pays off for me."

He nodded. "Okay, you can act and I'll work with faith and these books. You be sure and let me know when the next picture is up."

She dropped the books onto the hardwood floor with a thunk. "He could be anywhere. This is just a waste of time." She started to move toward the door, but the colonel stopped her.

He laid his hand on her shoulder to keep her from going anywhere. When he let go, he lifted the glasses off his nose and rubbed the bridge slowly. "We're not going to get a street address from one bug, Cody. You're going to have to be more patient than that."

"I can't be patient. This is my son. I need answers now." She walked back across the floor twice more and then sat back down on the floor with a thud. "You have no idea what this is like."

The colonel didn't respond. He sat back down and opened his book.

"This is my son," she said softly. "He's all I have. All I have and I've lost him." Her voice hit a high note and cracked and she tried to pull it together, but she felt the fury boil over as she clenched her fists and held herself from kicking something. "Damn it, Colonel. I have to find him before it's too late. I have to!"

"I understand," he said, his head still down.

"You do not understand," she snapped. "So please do not patronize me." She shook her head. "This is my whole family. This is all I have. I've lost everything. You have no idea what that is like."

He held her gaze for a long time before breaking it and returning to his book. "You're going to have to keep it down. Or else go home and I'll call you when I know something."

Cody glanced at the door, torn between giving up and trying something else or holding on to the slim chance that this might work, that Ryan might have picked a bug they could identify and track.

She wanted to trust her son. God, she wanted to.

She wished she knew what to do. Another half hour. She'd give it another half hour. She picked up a book, feeling the weight of the colonel's stare and ignoring him as she opened the next book in the pile and turned to the index at the back.

"Oh, look who's here," a woman's voice said.

Cody jumped, startled, as an older black woman walked into the room. Cody had seen Mrs. Turner only a handful of times since she'd lived next door.

She wore pink sweatpants and a lilac-and-pink sweatshirt with fluffy white slippers. Her hair was matted in the back and on one side, and she kept teasing it as though she sensed it wasn't quite right. "I kept wondering who was denting in the floor down here."

Cody smiled politely, unsure what, if anything, the colonel had explained to his wife about her presence. "I'm sorry. I was... I am..." She swallowed. "We were just talking."

Mrs. Turner came up and rubbed her cheek. "That's my Roni." Taking Cody's hand, she pulled her onto the small, worn couch and sat beside her. "Isn't she beautiful, Walter?" She slowly rubbed Cody's arm as Cody looked at the colonel, puzzled.

The colonel stood up. "Florence, you should go upstairs."

Cody's first reaction was to move, but she could feel the colonel's discomfort. "It's okay," she said without taking her eyes off Mrs. Turner. "It's very nice to see you."

The woman beamed. "And how is that baby boy of yours?"

She smiled despite the pain in her chest. "He's fine. Getting smarter every day." She had to believe that. She did.

"I'll bet he is. I hear he's a little bug collector, just like his grandpa."

Cody glanced at the colonel, whose gaze was fixed on his wife. The woman thought Cody was her daughter. She'd never experienced someone with Alzheimer's—didn't realize that a black woman could mistake even a white woman for her child. She didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and spoke the truth about Ryan. "He is. The colonel has taught him a ton. I certainly appreciate it."

The woman laughed easily, and it was clear what the colonel must have seen in her. Even now she was beautiful, with smooth dark skin and fine features. She winked at the colonel. "Listen to your daughter call you the colonel." She shook her head. "He almost had me doing it once. I said, no way. I'm not one of your men. I'm your wife. But you... you always called him Colonel. Even when you were just a wee thing. A big word like that. Daddy would've been a heck of a lot easier." She laughed again and touched Cody's shoulder. "It sure is good to have you home again, Roni. Just like old times. I've been telling Walter to patch things up. It's been too long. We're too old to be angry anymore. Haven't I been telling you that?"

"Yes," the colonel said, clearing the emotion from his throat. "Yes, you have." He stood then and crossed the room to his wife. Taking her by the arm, he led her toward the door. "Can I make you some tea, Florence?"

"Oh, no. It's too late for tea." She frowned and looked around. "Isn't it almost dinnertime? When's dinner?"

It was barely even two in the afternoon.

"Are you hungry?" the colonel asked.

Florence shook her head. "No. Not yet. I'll come down and thaw out that meatloaf I made last Sunday in a little bit. I'm going up to rest again." She waved to Cody. "You staying for dinner, honey?"

Cody watched the colonel nod behind his wife.

"Of course. I'll be right here."

Mrs. Turner smiled again and blew Cody a kiss. "What a sweet child we have, Walter. What a sweet, sweet child. You let her stay away way too long." She shook her finger at the colonel and then kissed it and laid it to Walter's lips. "And I can't wait to see that grandchild of mine as soon as he's home from school." She rubbed her hands together. "He's just the sweetest thing, that child—like a big, ripe peach."

The colonel watched as his wife disappeared around the corner toward the stairs.

Cody could see the exhaustion in his expression. She had sensed that Mrs. Turner was sick because of how infrequently she was outside. But she had no idea that the woman had Alzheimer's.

The colonel came back into the room and sat down. He didn't say a word about his wife.

Cody watched him return to exactly where he'd been before his wife had entered the room. She watched him for a minute until he finally looked up and raised an eyebrow. "You're distracting me. Either spit it out or get back to work."

Cody couldn't help but give the colonel a quick salute. But then she did as she was told and turned herself back to the book. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe the colonel did understand what it was like to lose someone.

"Maybe you ought to go check to see if there are any new pictures on that site," the colonel suggested.

Cody agreed. She stood and set the books on the table.

"You let me know as soon as you see. If I don't hear from you in ten minutes, I'm coming over."

She saluted again, and as his eyes swept to the door, she moved toward it.

The street was quiet as she crossed between the two houses and opened her back door with the key. As she entered the kitchen, she noticed the dishes were put away, the counters clean. She was struck by the odd emptiness of it. It lacked Ryan, but it also lacked all the personal belongings that she had so hastily packed up when she'd thought she was running from Oskar Kirov again.

It was never like that when they were both there. Although they didn't have their true identities, she and Ryan had made a home. They would again. She had to believe it.

Ignoring her surroundings, she locked and bolted the door and went straight to her office and found the site again. The same picture was still loaded, and Cody stared again at the strong, scared face of her child. Faith. She rubbed her eyes, trying to ease the burning. It seemed like a stretch to trust anything other than her own hands and mind. But she had to. To find Ryan, she would have to rely on things outside herself: Colonel Turner, Travis Landon, and perhaps even some faith.