Indelible (43 page)

“Shortly after Cody’s rescue. The others over a few weeks. Somewhere in there, Jazmyn Dufoe’s article ran.”

“What’s her connection, do you think?”

“Are you asking if she’s part of it?”

Jonah shrugged.

“I showed her the photos. Believe me, she had nothing to do with them. But she did learn something about the baby in the tree. The incident happened somewhere in Missouri, and he was recovered safely. Never made the news. Just a local story. Like this morning, I guess.”

“And the others?” Sue said. “The boy in the swamp, the water tower?”

“She’s still digging. That’s one thing about Jaz. She never quits.”

Uncomfortably true. “So we have disturbing photos, a bizarre drawing, and an extreme reaction to your statue.”

“The way he looked at it?”

“The way he wanted to destroy it.” That seemed like news to him. “Natalie used the words
worship
and
destruction
. Tia got the sense he might not know what he wants from you. But we know he’ll use people to get it. Vulnerable people. Innocents.”

“What can I do?” Trevor spread his hands, frustrated. “Lure him out? Make him come for me?”

He meant it, but that wasn’t their first course. “The sheriff has deputies combing the land behind the Pitman place. Maybe the scene will give us something. In the meantime, stay close to Natalie, now that she’s remembering.”

“Remembering.” Trevor’s arms fell slack. “Him?”

“I thought you knew. She called me this morning.”

“I need to go.” He grabbed wallet and keys from his drawer. “You know how to reach me.”

When the door shut behind him, Jonah turned to Sue, brows arched.

“If I was lost, I’d take his help.”

“Tall, strong, and handsome?”

“I was thinking ‘good.’ ” She flushed. “He reminds me of you.”

Jonah answered the page as they walked out. The cape he took from Brody was a break, but Beatty and McCarthy redeemed themselves finding the vehicle parked behind the Laundromat. It came up stolen.

“There was only one thing in the duffel bag besides spare clothes,” Beatty said. “An old book called
Paradise Lost.
”

Whit’s text saved him the shock of not finding them at home, but the objective was to have Natalie in a secure location. Had Whit missed the finer points? Trevor forced himself to chill out as he drove. Coming in like a bad dream wouldn’t help. But what else was this?

He passed the bakery and touched the brake, saw a parking space and took it. Laden with stuffed croissants, he rang Natalie’s doorbell. Every other time he’d knocked or let himself in. But today he used the bell.

Whit admitted him with a muttered, “Sara’s got nothing on her in stubbornness.”

He hadn’t thought Natalie stubborn, but that was because she did it so considerately. He walked into the kitchen, and his heart broke all over again, watching her try to find her way with the clay. She seemed as clumsy as a novice, and impatient, slamming her hands down in the closest thing to temper she’d ever shown.

He hugged her from behind, kissing her hair behind the bandage. Heat came off her head as though she was literally burning wood. How did the brain work? He’d never studied anatomy, never went to college at all. While Whit got an MBA, he’d been carving the slopes, then conceiving a business using what skills he had left. What was he even doing with a brilliant woman like Natalie?

He gave her neck a rub. “Don’t force it.”

“I need to show Jonah.” She sounded slow and thick, her speech degraded from before. Probably fatigue. Maybe pain or the pain relief, if she’d taken it.

“Come have something to eat. Whit?”

“I’m going, but thanks anyway.”

After eating, she went back to work. Clay filled the creviced web between her thumb and hand. Her nails were caked with gray brown that
streaked her fingers. A smear darkened her cheek where she’d wiped sweat or a tear, but she still had no more than a vague head shape with rudimentary features.

“I … I can feel it, but I can’t make it happen.”

He wanted to tell her to stop trying, but he knew how it felt when only cutting the gates sharper and hugging a line that left no room for error would beat a competitor’s time. He knew how it felt to cross the line with hundredths of seconds ticking off and hear the screams of applause. “Tell me what you feel.”

She closed her eyes. “The first time I saw him, there was this pit of despair, a hunger that was famine and fury. There was destruction, but not toward me. Not even toward you except.” She sighed. “Then he saw me and pulled up his hood as though to shield me from his wounds.”

“So you remember, but you don’t see him.”

“I remember it happening. But because I
saw
him, I don’t remember the features.”

“And the second time? When he hit you?”

She shook her head. “I hardly saw him. He was going for the statue. I tried to keep him from damaging it.”

“You what?”

“I told him to stop.”

She couldn’t be serious, but she was. His chest felt hollow. “It’s a statue, Nattie. If you’d let him have at it, you might have gotten away.”

Having taken part in the church ladies’ mission to the scarf- and gloveless, Fleur answered Piper’s call with a lighter heart than she’d started the day with. She ran hot water into the sink. “You’ll be happy to know I’m once again a productive member of society.”

“Were you not?”

“Sadly, no. But the chance came up to do for others and—wait for it—I forgot about myself.”

“Isn’t that a funny thing?” Piper said. “Just like Miles when someone’s in trouble.”

Fleur squirted soap into the sink. “So what’s up?”

“I thought you’d like to know, Natalie’s out of the hospital.”

Fleur shut the water off. “When?” It didn’t surprise her that Piper knew first. Her bakery was the heart of town.

“Yesterday afternoon—except, are you ready for this? She’s staying with Trevor MacDaniel.”

“No way.”

“Way,” Piper said. “For protection. He said they can’t spare any officers since they’re all looking for the demon bat.”

“He said demon bat?”

“No, sorry. Just quoting your Officer Newly.”

So Natalie was with Trevor. Fleur slid a plate into the sudsy water. “I hope she keeps a clear head. I hope she
can
. Piper, how is she?”

“Trevor said okay. But really there’s only one way to know.”

“Reconnaissance mission?” Fleur bit her lip. “I don’t know where he lives.”

“We don’t have to. She’s at her house trying to model the guy who hit her.”

“That’s only a couple streets.” Fleur straightened. “I accept this mission.”

“Are you sure?”

“As soon as I finish the dishes. Neither sleet nor hail nor dark of night nor whatever will hold me back.”

Piper laughed. “Yeah, all that. Call me, okay?”

Fleur made quick work of the cups and saucers the knitters had used. She packed breads and a quart of soup into a basket she carried over one arm, like Little Red Riding Hood off to Grandma’s, then took her stick and stepped outside. Moisture settled on her face. More mist than snow, and the sidewalks seemed merely wet. Not cold enough to ice, she hoped, but walked with care, letting the cane tell her what might cause trouble.

From their morning walks, she knew the way as well from Natalie’s description as when she could see. But she had no one seeing for her now. Her world was not utter darkness, but a vague twilight, a land of gloom and shadow.

This late in the day, she passed no one else on the residential street until the corner, where she heard quick, furtive steps. She paused. People
always announced their presence with a greeting, a courtesy she deeply appreciated.

She could easily be marginalized, ignored, and avoided, but not in Redford, one of the reasons she stayed when her parents and younger siblings moved to Grand Junction. This was her place, her people. But whoever was there now made no effort.

“Hello?”

Nothing. An animal maybe.
No Big Bad Wolf
, she prayed. A deer, pausing to study her, though she caught no gamey scent. Tension found the muscles along her spine. Seth didn’t want her walking alone. In her concern for Natalie, she’d forgotten. But it was only two blocks, and she would not be afraid.

Natalie turned when her doorbell rang, but Trevor caught her arm. “Please.”

He seemed a little exasperated, but she didn’t think the bad guy would ring her bell. Trevor opened the door, blocking with his body, then moved aside.

Her heart rushed. “Fleur!”

“You’re not in bed?”

“She should be,” Trevor muttered.

She hugged her friend. “You remember Trevor?”

“Why don’t you two sit?” He clasped Fleur’s elbow and led her to the couch.

Natalie sighed. “I’ll fall asleep.”

“Then I’ll talk to Trevor,” Fleur said.

Natalie felt a guilty relief when he moved into the kitchen with his phone. She’d seen his pity as she worked, accomplishing nothing over and over. It hurt him to see her like this. It hurt her.

Fleur squeezed her hand. “How are you?”

“You’d know, if you could see me. I’m looking right at you.”

“No eidetic images?”

“And I’ve tried and tried to sculpt, but it’s useless. I thought I had a gift, but all I did was paint by number.”

“No,” Fleur said. “I felt what you did.”

“But not anymore. The clay is nothing but dirt and water.”

“Have you tried it with your eyes closed?”

Natalie sank back in the couch. “Oh, Fleur.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m too tired to think about it.” But even as she said it, the thought took hold. If she stopped trying to see the way she used to, would her hands remember? Maybe her talent wasn’t all centered on one anomaly. But then, her hands were clumsy as well, and her balance wasn’t great, and talking took work. And so much energy. She was not herself, not at all herself.

Hearing Fleur and Trevor, she realized she had fallen asleep. With a soft moan, she opened her eyes.

“Feel better?” Trevor’s mouth crooked up, a shade beneath smug.

“Sorry, Fleur.”

“Don’t be. At the risk of sounding giddy, I just spent forty minutes with gold medalist Trevor MacDaniel. And guess what—once the new slopes open, he’s taking me out.”

“A one-armed child and a blind woman. Trevor, you have a new vocation.”

He seemed to seriously consider it. “I’ve resisted teaching people’s privileged offspring. But this … You could be right.”

The warmth in his eyes melted her. She was falling harder and deeper for this man every day.

They shared fruit, crusty rolls, and the quart of Piper’s butternut soup that Fleur had brought. Then she said, “I’d better go before the snow gets serious.”

Natalie hugged her tight. “Thank you for coming. I missed you.” And to Trevor, “Will you take her home?”

“Yeah, but you’re coming too.”

“I think I’ll just lie down.”

He raised her to her feet. “I’ll bed you down at my place.”

Her mouth and Fleur’s made matching hollows.

“You know what I mean.”

But that didn’t keep her heart from doing a giant slalom of its own.