Dark Witness (16 page)

"Guillard. Hey." Andre set his jaw and gave Josie one last warning look. Archer called again. "Guillard!"

"Yeah. Here." Andre went to the doorway. Archer handed up the last box.

"This one's open," Archer said.

Andre pulled back the flaps. Five vials were missing. He knew he had taken only three samples of the load. Andre located the first box and reopened it, confirmed that was the box from which he had take three vials and taped it up again. When he turned around, he saw Josie crouched down by the second box. He thought he detected a smile when she swung her head his way.

"Someone opened the lock on this truck. Someone besides you took a couple of bottles of this poison. Don't you think there is a good chance whoever did that found those kids, too?" She stood up, put a foot on the open box and pushed it his way. "Now tell me you're just going to let this go."

"Jo," Archer called, but she was in no mood to be messed with. Her head whipped Archer's way.

"Do you want to let it go, too, Archer? Really? All this is just so we can stand here and wonder what in the hell happened? Then what? We go home and stand on the pier and throw a couple of wreaths out onto the water, have a beer at Burt's, and get on with our lives? Or, maybe you think we should wait for them to show up? Is that what you think we should do? Because if you think that. . ."

"Hey! Take a minute," he warned.

Andre turned his back. This wasn't his fight. Even though Archer moved close, Andre could still hear every word.

"Jo, we're out of our depth here. There isn't much we can do with what we have. It would be better if we went back, talked to whoever we need to talk to, and get authorized to search. I'm just saying we need a plan."

Josie stormed back to the opening and held onto that door. She looked down on him, her face a play of anguish and anger.

"How far could they have gotten, Archer? Hurt? Bleeding? With only what they have on their backs? They couldn't have gotten far without help. I'm telling you, they are out there. If someone found them, they would have slowed down because they were hurt. Maybe there's a camp somewhere, or it's one of those people he's been talking about. We can find them. I know we can."

"We don't know how long this wreck has been here," Archer argued.

"It's been at least a week." Andre came up behind her, and Josie whipped around.

"I'm asking for a sweep. Five miles. That's what I want. We came up five miles easy, and we'll go back another route. We can do one leg today. We'll take our best guess which way to go. Two will do that, and one of us will get back to Nell. Archer, you could find your way back, right? Don't you think you could?"

"It's not like jogging on The Strand, Jo," Archer said. "We're in the middle of Alaska. It's dark. It's getting darker. What are we going to do in a few hours when we can't see our hands in front of our face? We don't have a tent. No sleeping bags. No food. Listen to the man. Listen to me. Now, come on. Get down."

Archer put both hands up and crooked his fingers. Josie eyed him as if he had just slapped her. Her chin quivered.

"It's Hannah, and if you don't care. . ." Josie began.

"Don't go there, Jo." Archer stepped back. She was making the ground rules, but he wasn't going to play by them. "Now, come on. I'll help you down if you want, but I won't beg, and Andre isn't going to stand there forever."

Josie's eyes slid to Andre Guillard. Young and handsome, he was a dedicated trooper, but he had no real skin in this game. She appreciated what he was saying. He was warning her off in the same way she would warn a client away from uncharted territory. This was his truth and his truth was that to search was futile. Archer was offering something in the middle, and both men waited for her to choose one option or the other.

Andre jumped off the container, picked up the chain and lock from the ground. "I've got to close this up."

Josie didn't care what he had to do or that Archer was angry with her. The good news was that Archer didn't turn his back on her. She stood on her crumpled perch, looking into the gun metal-colored afternoon. The wind was stronger, and it pushed the cold through every exposed inch of her skin. What did that Alaska cold feel like in the dead of night? How dark was dark in Alaska? How terrifying was it to listen to things moving and be unable to figure out what or where they were? Worse yet was to hear absolute silence lying in absolute dark. Josie knew what that was like, and she wouldn't wish that kind of terror on anyone. Now she squinted into the distance and saw what the two men could not: a slim thread of hope running through the trees and across the snow.

Instead of stepping down, Josie went back inside the container. The flashlight beam bobbed, then stopped, and then start moving again. When Josie reappeared she had a ragged piece of bloodstained cardboard in one hand and in the other a piece of yellow material.

"I ripped one of your boxes," she said to Andre. "But I didn't do anything to the bottles inside. I found this fabric. There's blood on it. It needs to be tested. We have DNA from both Billy and Hannah to check it against."

She jumped down from the truck.

Archer asked, "Are you ready to go back now?"

"Sure. Why not." Josie grabbed the pack and put her evidence in the side pocket.

Archer picked up his gear. Andre pushed the metal door shut. It groaned and clanged. He threaded the new chain through the handles twice, secured the lock and posted the warning that it was a crime to tamper with the vehicle. When he was done, he picked up the pack with a bag of bones inside. Josie started to walk before either of the men and Archer spoke to her back.

"We'll talk to Andre's commander, and we'll get this figured out, Jo."

"You do that, Archer. I'm going to talk to Nell. I want to see a little more of Alaska than Trooper Guillard is willing to show me."

Josie paused, adjusted her pack, and let Andre go on ahead of her. He took the lead not liking her at his back anymore than he liked her walking ahead of him. The last time he'd seen a female act like this she was covered in fur, on her hind legs, and ready to devour the guy who was messing with her cub.

Yep, a mama grizzly was almost as ornery, single minded, and scary as Josie Bates.

CHAPTER 12

Ham and bacon.

That was what Melody brought up the stairs every night. In the morning she only brought bacon. She brought the blue plate because that was what Pea preferred. Melody had tried to make Pea eat a bit of vegetable or sweets, but Pea would have none of it. Melody tried to talk to Pea, but the most she got was a trill or a pretty burp. Though it was well known that Pea spoke only to Duncan, Melody was sure if she were kind enough, nice enough, patient enough, Pea would speak to her, too. If that happened then she would be worthy of Duncan. The circle was obvious. She would be a good servant, atone, be blessed for her efforts, and healed by Duncan who would then take her for his own. It was so simple, so long in coming, and now, seemingly, out of reach because Hannah and Billy had caught Duncan's attention – or rather Hannah had.

Melody made the turn on the second landing and started up the next flight of stairs, and thought about Billy. The sheets of his bed were tangled as if his sleep was always disturbed. She saw him looking out the window of Duncan's house where he stayed, watching the big house, waiting. She had seen him go to the river to look at the water and ask about the ice that had formed up against the banks. Robert said he had to chase him off the boat, and Glenn said he could hardly get his wood split with all the questions Billy asked. Teresa fed him, but he sat at the table with his head in his hand, watching them all. He especially watched Duncan.

It had only been a few days since Robert brought these two back from that wreck and already their world was tilted. It seemed to Melody everyone was leaning different ways trying to right it. She knew one way to make it right. Duncan should set a date for the healing.

Just as she thought she would like that interrupted conversation to begin again, Melody stumbled. The plate wobbled, the napkin slipped and the scent of the grease made her suddenly sick.

Twice a day she climbed these stairs and smelled this smell. She used to think Duncan had only chosen her because Pea was her temptation, but now Melody thought it was because she was the only one willing to climb this many stairs. On top of that, she was beginning to think that Pea wasn't really all that. It was Duncan who spoke to them. None of them ever heard Pea say a word; most of them forgot the woman even existed. Melody wondered what would happen if she didn't bring food. Would Pea come down when she was hungry? Would God feed her? Maybe she would starve to death.

Melody stopped thinking. Disrespect could send her back down the chute of forgiveness. She may have her doubts about Pea, but she had no doubts about Duncan's ability to heal her and that was what was important.

At the top of the stairs Melody paused, and listened. She heard nothing from Hannah's room. Melody's forehead was so furrowed, her jaw so tight, it hurt. She had only felt like this once before – rebellious and bloated with jealousy – and that hadn't turned out real well.

She put the blue plate down in front of Pea's door, twisted the knob so that it unlatched, and then picked up the plate again. She pushed the door open with her hip, went inside, and closed it with her shoulder as she had done every morning and evening for the last two years. And, as she had done since the first time she entered this room, Melody took a moment just to 'be' in this place.

In the far corner was a large bed covered with a quilt the color of marigolds. It was the largest bed of any in the house, and the softest, and the highest. At night, Pea's head rested on a down pillow. On the floor was a rag rug, a rich braid of brown and mahogany and black that looked like a native woman's hair. The hardwood floor was smooth and fitted tongue and groove unlike the rough-hewn boards in the rest of the house. There were pillows on top of the rug, and each was large enough to lie upon. At the other end of the room was a fireplace, but no fire ever burned there. It was a shrine to a sculpture of a beating heart struck through with a sword. It was the heart of Christ that Duncan had carved out of wood. He set it in the hearth because it symbolized that such a heart was impervious to the flame. The room was heated by a potbellied stove, the grate hidden by a beautiful, intricately constructed tin cabinet that kept Pea from burning her fingers or catching her long hair on fire.

By the bed was a lamp with a stained glass shade. One of the panes was broken. When the light was turned on the lamp looked like a lighthouse with a single beam of pure, white light shining for those lost on the endless ocean of sin. There was a cracked pitcher and a flowered ceramic bowl atop a wooden chest that they had found in the attic. There was a hairbrush made of whalebone that Teresa used to brush Pea's long, long hair. Lace drapes faded to yellow covered windows that never opened. Pea's world was perpetually dark, and to keep the summer light away wooden panels secured by intricately designed iron hasps were attached to the sills. The wood and walls became an art gallery for Duncan's paintings: Christ on rivers, Christ on mountains, Christ melting under a desert sun, Christ rising from a mob of adoring people of all races.

And he drew women.

Women with beatific eyes turned heavenward or women with humble eyes turned toward the earth. Women with their hands crossed over their breasts and women with their arms open. Melody would live in this room forever if she could. If she had to die, she would like to die in this room. But this room wasn't hers, and if the only way to get a room like this were to be like Pea then Melody would pass.

When her arm began to quiver, Melody realized that she had been leaning against the closed door longer than she thought. It was hard to be as dutiful as Melody. Perhaps it was hard on Pea to be so
Within,
but Melody would bet it was harder to have her chores than to simply commune with God all day. She called out:

"I'm here, Pea. Come out now, Pea."

Melody was annoyed to have to say this silly nonsense, but she did it anyway. Nobody could be so
Within
that they didn't hear a door open. Even dogs knew when they were going to be fed. Still, Pea did as Pea always did: Nothing. Melody did as Melody always did: announced herself, walked to the middle of the room, knelt on the red pillow, and set the plate in the middle of the rug. When that was done, Melody took a deep breath.

"Come out now, Pea."

Melody's call was only an expression because Pea was right there in front of her. The woman knelt on the purple pillow as she always did at dinnertime. At breakfast, she knelt on the yellow pillow. All this was done so that Pea was never upset. Looking at her, it was hard to imagine she could be upset by anything.

Pea was on her knees, her arms spread wide, her hands flat on the rug, her head bowed, and her long black hair hanging straight over her face. She wore a white gown that covered her from shoulder to toe. And Pea was always and forever
Within
which meant that Melody could amuse herself any old way she liked and never bother the woman.

"Did Duncan tell you about the girl and boy, Pea?"

Melody took the covering from the plate of food.

"Robert thinks they are like you and Duncan. I don't think so. They don't look alike. Not that they would have to, of course. But she's dark, you know."

Melody arranged the bacon straight again since it had been jostled on the way up the stairs.

"I think they are lovers. Duncan says no. Teresa says they are running away from something awful. She says someone is trying to kill them. I can't imagine what they did that would make someone want to kill them. I don't think they did anything bad, really, but Teresa says they must have done something to be locked in the back of a truck and left for dead. Oh, and they came all the way from California. From the beach. Who would do that if they hadn't done something awful? I'd love to go to the beach. If I looked different, that is."