Going Once (Forces of Nature) (10 page)

She frowned. “Well, that’s just great.”

“Face it. When you’re the first witness to his murders, and then the first person to live through an attack, you’re big news.”

“But I can’t identify him. Not from either time,” she said.

“I guess he doesn’t know that,” Beaudry said.

“It doesn’t matter to him,” Tate said. “She’s a mistake, and this man doesn’t allow himself to make mistakes.”

Nola sat back down on the cot, cradling her arm, but she was getting mad.

“I am
not
a mistake, damn it. I am a survivor. I should have drowned and I didn’t. I should have been shot down out of that tree, but I wasn’t. I should be lying in the morgue with my throat cut, but I’m not. So get me out of here and go find him. I do not intend to live the rest of my life, however long that may be, hiding from a madman.”

The men blinked.

Then Tate smiled.

“There’s the woman I remember. Chief, again, we appreciate your help. We’ll go out the back way and hopefully miss the news crews.”

“Where are you going? You’re not leaving town are you?”

“We’re staying in one of the empty rentals at the trailer park,” Tate said.

Beaudry frowned. “I hope it’s not the deluxe trailer. It’s haunted.”

Nola rolled her eyes, as if to say,
I told you so.

Wade cursed beneath his breath.

Beaudry shuddered. “Better you than me. Anyway, if you need me, you know how to get in touch. And, Nola, take care of yourself, honey.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

“I’ll drive the car around back,” Wade said.

“I’ll let you out the door we use when we load up prisoners for transport,” Beaudry said.

A short while later they were in the SUV and headed to the trailer park. As they drove, Tate was trying not to think of what was happening to his mother’s body and forced himself to look ahead to the rest of the day.

“When we get settled,” he said, “I want you two to go out to the gym, make sure everything is okay again, express our apologies to Laura Doyle and, without making a big deal of it, find out if any of her regular workers failed to come in this morning.”

“You’re still thinking it could be one of them?” Nola asked.

“It’s our best guess,” Tate said. “If there’s anyone who failed to show up this morning, we’ll make a personal call on him and see what shakes out.”

He stopped at Eats long enough for Cameron to go inside and pick them up some breakfast sandwiches, then they took the back roads through town to get to the trailer park.

Jonesy was standing on the porch of their rental waiting for them when they drove up.

“That’s a nice-looking trailer,” Cameron said.

“Well, it
is
the deluxe model,” Nola reminded him, and then grinned.

Wade glared. “This isn’t funny.”

“Actually, it is,” she said.

“If it’s really haunted, you won’t be laughing,” he said.

Tate frowned. “Enough. You guys get the stuff. I’m going to get Nola inside as quickly as possible. The fewer people who know where she is, the better.”

“Right,” Cameron said, and he and Wade started gathering up their things as Tate walked Nola up the steps.

“Hi, Jonesy,” Nola said.

“Hey, sugar. Sorry about your troubles, but you can rest easy here. This is a really nice trailer. It’s the deluxe model, you know.”

Nola grinned. “Yes, we know. You remember Tate Benton, don’t you?”

Jonesy grinned. “I’ll say I do. You turned into a fine-looking man, and you’re an agent with the FBI now, huh? That’s really something.”

“Thanks,” Tate said. “Lead the way.”

“Will do, and you can sign the rental agreement inside.” He went in ahead of them, stopping at the kitchen island to spread out the papers. “I crossed out the monthly agreement part, and we’ll just take it a day at a time until you don’t need the place anymore. Is that fair?”

“It’s perfect, and thank you,” Tate said, and signed his name.

“Here are the keys. There are three on the ring. The front and back doors open with the same key, and if something doesn’t work, I’m just four trailers down. My number’s on the lease, so either give me a call or come knock on the door. I turned the refrigerator on, so it will already be cold, and there are some dishes and a few pots and pans. I brought in some towels and washcloths for y’all, and there’s some laundry soap on a shelf in the utility room. There are sheets on the beds and extra blankets in the linen closet. I try to keep the place move-in ready, but if you need anything, just let me know.”

He started out, then stopped and held the door open for Wade and Cameron, who were carrying their things inside.

Wade eyed the interior as if he expected ghosts to pop out of the walls at any minute, then gave Jonesy a cautious look.

“Is this place really haunted?” he asked.

Jonesy frowned. He wasn’t happy that the place had garnered such a reputation. It made it hard to keep it rented.

“I’ve never seen anything,” he said, and shut the door behind him as he left.

“Nice kitchen,” Nola said, eyeing the black, up-to-date appliances, the onyx laminate countertops and the silver backsplash.

The floor tiles were black-and-white hexagons, and the cabinets were white. For modular housing, it did have an extra flair.

The adjoining living room was fairly spacious, and the hardwood flooring was shiny and clean. The furniture was turquoise sectional, and there was a nice-size flat-screen TV. The color palette, an homage to the ’70s, beat the jail cells all to heck.

Nola eyed the small utility area where the washer and dryer were situated and was glad she would have a place to wash her bloody clothes, then wandered down the hall, checking out the three bedrooms.

“This one will be yours,” Tate said as he came up behind her.

“But it’s the largest. You should give it to Wade and Cameron.”

“No, because it’s at the farthest end of the house, and for anyone to get to you, they have to come past all of us.”

It was a startling way to think, and then she realized it was the only way any of these men
would
think. Their focus would always be on safety and accessibility, and how easy it would be to deter the bad guys.

“I didn’t think about that,” she said.

He gave her shaggy braid a soft tug.

“That’s why you have us. And while I’m thinking about it, if you’ll find a hairbrush, I’ll fix this braid for you.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I won’t say no. Give me a second to find it.”

“All the stuff is in the living room,” Cameron said. “We’re heading to the gym to talk to Laura.”

Tate nodded, then took two of the keys off the key ring and handed them over. He took out a couple of the breakfast sandwiches and handed the sack to Wade. “Get some groceries on your way home.”

They locked the door behind them as they left.

Tate began going through the house, checking windows to see if they were locked, checking the back door and the amount of shrubbery nearby, making sure there weren’t any places that would be advantageous for someone to hide in.

“Found it!” Nola called, and then winced as she bumped her stitches. “Oh, my Lord, that hurts,” she said, cupping the bandages over the wound.

“I’m so sorry,” Tate said, and grabbed a chair from the dining room set and turned it around. “Sit here and eat while I take down your hair.”

She peeled the paper back from the sausage-and-egg biscuit and took a bite, while Tate pulled the hair band off the end of her braid and then began undoing it, combing his fingers through its length until her hair hung loose.

“Tell me if I pull,” he said.

Nola took another bite as he began brushing her hair.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

Tate frowned. There were any number of things she might ask that he didn’t want to deal with, but it was past time to set some things right.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” he said as he continued to brush out the tangles.

“What’s up with you and your dad? He never used to be so cold.”

“I guess you could say we had a parting of the ways.”

“Did it have something to do with me?”

“No! Lord, no. Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know. He used to be friendly when he’d see me, and after you left, he wouldn’t even speak to me. He’d usually make a point of doing something else if we ran into each other.”

“That was probably because you reminded him of me, and I was what he didn’t want to think about.”

She waited for him to explain further, but when he didn’t, she sat and finished the rest of her sandwich as he began to rebraid her hair.

“Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever going to tell me the truth?”

His fingers were trembling as he wrapped the hair band around the end of the braid.

“All done,” he said. “I’ll reheat our coffee in the microwave.”

“Thank you,” she said, and then got up and threw the sandwich wrapper in the trash.

When the microwave dinged, he took out the cups and handed one to her.

Nola accepted it without comment and took a small sip to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then carried it to the living room and sat down. With the open concept of the trailer, she could see everything he was doing in the kitchen. He ate his sandwich while looking out the windows.

Once again, she felt as if he had slammed a door shut between them, and from the stiff set of his shoulders, it was obvious he didn’t want it opened.

When his cell phone rang, he answered quickly, obviously grateful for a reason not to have to talk to her. This was the same way he’d acted eight years earlier, and she still had no idea what the hell had gone so wrong. What she did know was that it hurt her feelings, and it made her mad. She had deserved better than this then, and she deserved better now, too.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him pacing as he talked. From what she could hear, it sounded as if he was talking to his superior, and someone wasn’t happy. Well, neither was she. She walked out of the room, going down the hall to her bedroom, and closed the door. He kept shutting her out. Maybe he needed to see what that felt like.

Nine

T
ate knew he’d hurt her feelings. Again.

While he’d been trying to figure out how to tell her about the quagmire that was his personal life, the director’s call had interrupted his train of thought. When the call finally ended and he turned around, she was gone. He stood in the silence of the room knowing he’d put this off long enough, then followed her down the hall and knocked.

“What?”

He winced. If she was crying, he was done for.

“May I come in?”

A few moments later the door swung inward, but she turned away and walked back to the bed, where she put her arm up on the pile of pillows she was using as support.

Tate closed the door behind him and then stood with his hands in his pockets, searching for words.

“Mom died this morning.”

“Oh, no,” Nola said, and then started to cry.

Tate sat down on the bed beside her and reached for her hand.

“I haven’t said anything to the guys yet. I just told the director.”

“Are you leaving?” Nola asked, and blew her nose on the tissue he handed her.

He shook his head. “She didn’t want a funeral. She didn’t want to be buried.”

“She wanted to be...to be—”

“Cremated? Yes.”

“Oh. Oh, Tate. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, struggling not to cry along with her.

“This may sound cold, but I can’t say I’m sorry. This is one of those times when death really
was
a blessing. She hasn’t been living for years, only breathing.”

“Does your dad know?” Nola asked.

A muscle in his jaw suddenly jerked, as he nodded.

“Legally, they were still married. The hospital called him, too.”

She reached for his hand and just held it. There were a thousand questions to be asked, but now was not the time, so she began talking about losing her own mother.

“I remember after Mama died, for the longest time I kept thinking it wasn’t real. I can’t tell you how many times I got up to go look for her to tell her something about my work and then remembered she was gone.”

Tate frowned. During all the confusion, he had never once thought about how she supported herself.

“What’s your work? What do you do?”

“I’m doing exactly what I always wanted to do,” she said.

His eyes widened. “You’re painting?”

She nodded. “
Was
painting, anyway. Everything is gone except the work I have in galleries. It will take a while to replace my equipment and supplies.”

For a moment the sadness on his face was gone.

“That’s wonderful, Nola. You were so damn good in college. I’ll bet your mama was really proud of you.”

“No more than your mama was of you,” she said.

He shrugged. “She had a couple of good years after I joined the FBI, but then she became so confused, half the time she thought I was Dad, and the rest of the time she didn’t know where we were or who I was.”

She shook her head. “That had to be terrible. Your dad should have been there to help you. I just can’t get over the fact that all this happened the way it did.”

“I guess you’re still pretty mad at me,” he said.

Nola hesitated and then opted for the truth.

“It’s a mixture of anger and confusion. It never made sense why you left, so every lame answer you gave me felt like a lie.”

Tate ran a finger down the side of her face, staying clear of the healing scratches, and wished this conversation was already over. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about reliving the past, but it was time.

“So, you already know Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a year before I left, but I didn’t know it. Only she and Dad knew it, and he was in denial. She didn’t want to tell anyone until she got worse. Said they would all treat her differently if they knew, and she was probably right about that.”

“When did you find out?” she asked.

“The same night I came and told you I was leaving. The night I asked you to go with me.”

She frowned. “How did you find out?”

“When I got home that evening they were in the middle of a fight. Mom was crying hysterically, and Dad was throwing my clothes down the stairs.”

“
Your
clothes? Why in the world would he do that?”

He sighed. “That’s pretty much what I wondered, too. I asked him what the hell was going on, and he looked at me with such hate I was stunned. I asked Mom what was going on, and she just kept crying, saying something about secrets.”

Nola could feel the tension in his body and tightened her grip on his hand for moral support.

“I started picking up my clothes and went to take them back upstairs when Dad met me halfway up, doubled up his fist and cold-cocked me. I fell backward down the stairs with the clothes in my hands, and Mom went ballistic. I thought they’d both lost their minds. They were screaming at each other again, like I wasn’t even there, but I got the drift. It was hard to miss. Dad was screaming, ‘He’s not my son, and I don’t want him under this roof!’”

Nola gasped. “He said you weren’t his son? But what—”

“That’s what he kept saying. Then Mom told him if he threw me out, she was leaving, too. He said he didn’t want her to leave, that he would forgive her. And her last words to him were that she would never forgive him for what he’d just done to me.”

Nola felt sick to her stomach. “And you came to me, and
I
rejected you, too.”

Tate sighed. “That’s what it felt like at the time, but once I calmed down, I realized how crazy I must have sounded. I didn’t know what to tell you, because Mom wouldn’t explain, and Dad just kept shouting, ‘He’s not my son!’ If Mom had an affair and I was the result, I didn’t know how to tell you without giving away a secret that was hers alone to tell. It wasn’t until Mom and I were on our own that I figured most of it out, then guessed the rest.”

“Guessed what? Who your real father was? What?”

Tate’s smile was as cold as the expression in his eyes.

“Oh, Don Benton
is
my father, he just doesn’t know it. Whatever Mom said that led him to believe he wasn’t, it came from one of her earliest hallucinations. Whatever she was rambling about that set him off, it wasn’t real. And he was in such denial over her diagnosis that he wouldn’t ever have considered that what she was saying might not have been true.”

Nola nodded. “I see what you mean. Like, who would willingly lie about having an affair when it didn’t happen?”

“Exactly, and to satisfy myself, I had a DNA test to prove it.”

“But how did you get a sample? Weren’t you already gone?”

He nodded. “It was actually Mom who furnished the sample and she didn’t even know it. The night she packed, she was throwing things into bags and accidentally took Dad’s hairbrushes instead of her own. I submitted my DNA and the hairbrush to a laboratory. It came back 99.99% positive that he was my father.”

“And you didn’t want to confront him with the truth?”

“No.”

“But why, Tate?”

“After what he’d done, I no longer wanted him.”

“I’m stunned! I’m hurt you didn’t trust me enough to tell me and so sorry for you all at the same time.”

“I handled it badly, but all I can say is that I was in shock. I kept thinking I needed to get away to survive it, and naively, I just assumed you would go. When you began pushing me for answers, I didn’t even know how to begin explaining.”

Nola got to her knees, then put her good arm around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

Tate wrapped his arms around her without saying a word, and before he knew it, he was crying.

She crawled into his lap and held him tighter.

* * *

After last night’s chaos, Laura Doyle was still trying to put the bits and pieces of their rescue center back in order. They had just finished serving breakfast, and during the meal she had explained the basics of what had happened. Everyone had been sympathetic to Nola Landry’s plight and stunned by Bell’s arrest, but at the same time concerned she would come back and put their families at risk. Once they learned that she was gone, the mood shifted and a new calm began to spread.

But Laura’s troubles were just beginning. Because of what had happened, she’d lost three volunteers who were now too spooked to return, and another volunteer had called in sick, and she didn’t know if he was actually ill or too scared to come back. When Cameron and Wade showed up in her office, her concern increased yet again.

“If you have bad news, don’t tell me,” she said.

Cameron frowned. “I’m so sorry about all this. We just wanted to let you know we won’t be staying here anymore.”

Laura sat down in her chair and managed a shaky smile.

“Well, that’s good news and bad news.”

“Does that mean you might miss us?” Cameron asked, trying to tease her.

“I might,” she said, and then waved a hand as if dismissing the topic. “So, was this visit just an apology, or is there something I can do for you?”

“Have any volunteers quit after last night?” Wade asked.

“Yes. Three quit and one called in sick. I don’t know if he’s really sick, or if he just doesn’t want to admit he’s too scared to return.”

“We need a list of names and contact information,” Wade said.

Laura nodded. “Give me a couple of minutes. I need to pull up the info.” Then she added, “You do realize that this list only verifies their driver’s licenses and the fact that they don’t have a criminal record. I know Bell slipped past it, but in traumatic situations, no one expects a bad guy to come help the Red Cross, so I can’t say how carefully the results are monitored.”

“I understand,” Wade said. “Right now I just need the names of the people who were here and either quit or didn’t show.”

She got out her cell phone and scanned her contact list, making notes as she came to the names, and then handed the page to Wade.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome and good luck,” she said.

“Take care,” Cameron added, and then they were gone.

* * *

Hershel had been running a fever ever since he woke up. He’d taken aspirin, but it wasn’t doing much good, and he hated taking himself out of the picture at such a vital time. He wanted to know what was going on, but being stuck here in bed, he had no way of knowing.

You’re sick because God is punishing you.

He rolled over in bed and thumped his pillow.

“Louise, stop talking. I’m sick. The least you could do is take pity and stop talking.”

You didn’t have any pity when you killed all those people in cold blood. If I wasn’t already dead, I would divorce you. This isn’t the man I married.

“You’re right. I’m not the man you married. That man lost his mind when he lost you, and this is what’s left. Now either shut the hell up or bring me something cold to drink. I’m on fire.”

You know I can’t help you anymore. You have to help yourself.

Hershel moaned, then threw back the covers and staggered to the bathroom to get a drink and take more aspirin. He made it to bed and collapsed, trembling in every joint. It occurred to him that he could have caught some disease from being in the floodwaters. Every nasty thing he could imagine had been in that water, and after finding that motorboat caught in some debris up against the riverbank, he’d been in that water, too. He’d considered the boat a little gift from the Fates, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Maybe I got typhoid fever or something,” he mumbled, and then rolled over and closed his eyes. “And maybe I’ll die.”

* * *

One of the volunteers who’d quit was a woman, and the agents quickly cleared her. It wasn’t the arrest of Judd Allen that had put her off, it was the attack on Nola Landry. Until the Stormchaser was arrested, she was sticking close to home.

They understood, didn’t blame her and moved on to the next person on the list: a man named Russell Warren. They found him in the backyard of his house, working on his truck. When he saw them drive up, he put down his tools and went to meet them, wiping grease from his hands as he went.

“Russell Warren?”

“That’s me,” Russell said.

“I’m Special Agent Luckett, and this is my partner, Special Agent Winger. Do you have time to talk to us a bit?”

“Sure. How can I help you?” Russell asked.

“After everything that happened last night, we were checking in with everyone on site, and Miss Doyle informed us that you quit.”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, I did. I hated to let her down like that, but the wife was pretty rattled when she heard what went on, and she was afraid the killer might come after her and I wouldn’t be here. So, bad as I hated to do it, that’s why I quit.”

Cameron nodded. “I can understand that. Have you lived here long?”

“All our lives, and we’ve known Nola and Tate all our lives, too. Sorry about what’s going on, but my family comes first.”

“Do you know Leon Mooney?” Wade asked.

“Well, I know who you’re talking about, but I only met him up at the Red Cross setup. Didn’t know him beforehand.”

“So he’s not a local?” Cameron asked.

“Naw...don’t rightly know where he’s from.”

“Do you know where he’s staying?”

“Not for sure, but I think he said something about a travel trailer once. You might ask Jonesy. Mooney could have ended up there.”

“We’ll do that, and thanks for your help,” Cameron said.

Russell nodded, and they headed back to the SUV and drove away.

“So, let’s head back to the trailer park. We can get the groceries for Tate on the way, and then talk to the last two men.”

* * *

Hershel, wake up! You need to get up and take your medicine or you’re gonna die like I did.

Hershel moaned. “I’m too sick to get up.”

Get up now and get some water or you’re gonna dehydrate and have a stroke.

“Oh, for the love of God, Louise. I’d rather die than move.”

Well, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. Mark my words!

Hershel moaned again. His eyes were burning. His skin was so hot it felt sunburned, and he was so parched that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He knew Louise was right, and he didn’t really want to die, so once again he threw back the covers and swung his legs off the side of the bed. But the room was spinning, and instead of getting up, he braced himself, waiting for the world to settle.