Known (8 page)

Keys. Still in the ignition.

Go. Now.
She took a deep breath and sprinted to the snowmobile, dashing awkwardly in the snow, thrusting her boots into old footprints and nearly falling several times as her boot tip caught on the lip of the ice. Every second she anticipated a deathblow in the center of her spine, and her ears strained to hear the next shot over her gasping breaths.

She flung herself on the snowmobile, fumbled with the engine switch and choke, and turned the ignition. It purred.

He ran.

He hadn’t expected it to go down that way.

She was supposed to be dead. Instead she’d survived the fire and someone else had just died. He’d been unable to fire again as he realized the man who’d collapsed from his bullet wore a uniform.

Did I just shoot a cop?

More sweat ran down his sides under his coat as he pushed through the branches and deep snow. Pain shot through his lungs as they begged for oxygen. He wanted to throw the rifle aside, let it be buried in the falling snow, but he knew it could be traced to him. Instead he cursed it, blaming the gun for the man’s death and now his aching lungs.

I fucked up.

It was supposed to be over. All of it. But he’d made a mistake. He’d planned to tell his father that he’d found the cabin burned to the ground and the woman dead, and that he’d put the old man out of his misery with a gunshot to the head. But she was
alive
.

And it was his fault.

How am I going to fix this?

His father wasn’t going to be happy.

He’d keep his mouth shut about what’d just happened until he’d found a solution. Luckily he had a handy scapegoat.

And he’d follow Gianna Trask and finish the job.

“Do you mind if I make some more eggs?” Violet asked.

Her mom had taken off a few minutes ago with the ranger, and Violet was painfully aware that she’d been left in the confines of a remote cabin with a man she knew nothing about. Her hands were restless and she needed something to take her mind off her mother’s safety. Yes, she’d left with a forest ranger, but she was going back to
that
place. The place of flames, smoke, fear, and cold. Violet had woken up twice last night, terrified that Chris’s cabin was on fire, but everything had been silent. Now she couldn’t get the idea of a burned person out of her head, and she needed something to do to fill the awkward silence.

“Go ahead. I had to toss the ones I made earlier. I forgot about them once the ranger showed up.” Chris stood near the front window, watching the direction in which the two had vanished on the snowmobile.

“I can make a big batch of scrambled for both of us.”

Chris turned to look at her. “That’d be great.” He smiled, but it was one of those adult smiles intended to make kids and teens feel like everything is okay. Violet had known how to recognize them since she was four.

Everything is not okay.

There might be a body in our cabin?

She put the thought out of her brain. Surely her mom would be safe with the ranger. Oro jumped off the couch and planted himself just outside the kitchen area, watching Violet as if she’d offered him eggs, too.

“Is he hungry?” she asked. She took the egg carton out of the skinny refrigerator and snooped through the cupboards until she found a medium-size bowl and whisk.

“I’ll feed him.” Chris poured some kibble in a bowl on a mat near the door. Oro watched his movements and then turned his dark eyes back to Violet.

I’d prefer eggs to dog food, too.

She studied Chris out of the corner of her eye as she broke the eggs and whisked them together. He stayed a solid ten feet away from her at all times. Part of her appreciated his efforts to make her not feel threatened, but another part of her wanted to roll her eyes. The man was clearly a gentleman. He might look rough around the edges with his scars and faded jeans, but his manners were impeccable. She didn’t feel unsafe around him, just curious and awkward.

“How long do you think they’ll be?” she asked.

“Can’t say. If there’s a body in there, I imagine your mom will want a long look.”

“Absolutely.” Violet wrinkled her nose. “She’s obsessed with death.” She knew he was right. Her mom had a tendency to lose track of time in her work.

“Obsessed with death or the human body?”

Violet thought about it. “You’re right. She can talk nonstop about what bodies do when they’re in certain situations. Sometimes I have to tell her to stop. I’m used to it, but it’s embarrassing if I have friends over or we’re out in public. Sometimes she forgets that not everyone is used to seeing gunshot wounds or rotting flesh.”

“There’s no way you’re used to hearing her talk about it,” Chris stated. He took a stool at the far end of the island as Violet poured the eggs in a pan.

“I know how to tune things out. Most of the time, she doesn’t bring up her work, but sometimes I think she gets distracted by the science of it all and can’t keep it to herself.” Violet met his calm gaze. “She really likes her job.”

“You don’t?”

“Sometimes I wish she worked in a bank.”

He grinned. “My dad worked in a bank. I can’t think of anything more boring. One of my dads,” he corrected.

A small spike of pain hit Violet’s heart and rapidly faded. She looked down at her eggs and kept the whisk moving through the yellow slimy mass over the low heat. “Is that your son?” She tilted her head at an enlarged photograph on the wall. It showed a dark-haired boy wrestling in the snow with another man. The colors were vivid against the white snow, and she could almost hear them shouting in laughter. Happiness radiated from the picture.

Chris looked at the photo and smiled fondly. “Yes, that’s Brian and my brother, Michael.”

Violet studied the details. “They both look like you. You all have different coloring, but I can see the resemblance in the eyes and the faces.”’

He looked away under her scrutiny, but she saw he was pleased by her observation. She felt the same way when people said she looked like her mom. Her mom was gorgeous, and Violet had always loved that she referred to Violet as her mini-me—even after Violet grew taller than she. It was something no one could ever take away from them.

She saw nothing of her father in her face, and her mom agreed. It often felt as if she’d been created solely from her mother’s genetics. It hurt. She swallowed hard and stared at the eggs.

Please stay safe.
She didn’t need to lose another parent.

“He’s an only child?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve always liked being an only child,” Violet stated. “I have friends who hate it and say they wanted someone to play with when they were younger, but I’ve always been able to entertain myself. I didn’t feel a need for siblings.”

Chris nodded, but she suspected he wondered at the truth of her statement. When she’d needed one, her grandmother had been a wonderful playmate, and when her mother was home, Violet had always wanted to spend time with her.

“It must have been hard to leave your friends behind in New York.”

Her head jerked up.
Did my mom already tell him?
“Yes. I’ve lived there all my life, and my mom decided to uproot me during my junior year. I think anyone can agree that’s not cool.” She stirred her thickening eggs. “I miss my friends. Texting and Skype help but I’ve lost that since we came up here. Do you think we’ll be able to go back to the city today?”

He took a piece of cold bacon, bit into it, and chewed, looking out at the light snow. Violet couldn’t read his expression.

“I doubt it. The warming trend they forecasted hasn’t appeared yet. If they don’t get the roads plowed, I’m not sure how my truck will be in the deep snow, and I hate to risk it until we have to. And with that big accident Frisco told us about, there’s no point in even trying. If we get out to the main highway, we’d have to turn around.”

Her eggs looked perfect. She scooped a big serving onto a plate and handed it to him, nodding at his sincere thanks.

She dished up her own plate and they ate in silence for a few minutes. Oro scooted closer, moving his focus to Chris and his plate. Violet had always wanted a dog. Her best friend’s dogs were big, goofy, joyful animals who celebrated whenever Violet visited. She’d always thought it’d be cool to have someone over-the-moon excited to greet you every time you came home. Oro wasn’t goofy; he was calm. But she noticed he was aware of every movement made in the cabin. Just like his owner.

She watched Chris eat and realized the awkwardness she’d felt earlier was gone. She still had a bit of anxiety over her mom, but she’d absorbed some of Chris’s calm. He finished nearly all his eggs and scraped the remainder into Oro’s bowl on top of his dog food. The dog finished the eggs in a split second and left the kibble. Oro picked a new spot to sit and fastened his stare on Violet.

“Did you even taste the eggs?” Chris asked the dog. Oro didn’t look away from Violet.

A far-off gunshot sounded from outside. Chris turned to look out the window and the tension in the cabin abruptly returned. Another shot sounded.

“That sounds pretty far away,” Violet said.
Mom?

The sudden stiffness in Chris’s back alarmed her.
Is he worried?
“I imagine you hear gunfire up here pretty often?” she asked hopefully, wanting him to alleviate her fears. They were in the middle of the forest; shouldn’t gunfire be normal?

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not as much this time of year. We heard two shots last night, too.” He gave her that small don’t-worry smile again. “Someone’s probably bored.”

“Are we safe here?” Violet blurted. “Is my mom safe? Do you think that was the ranger’s gun? What if something’s happened to them?” She turned and rinsed her plate in the tiny sink as a small blanket of fear covered her shoulders. She wanted to run out the front door and go search for her mom.

We’re in the fucking middle of nowhere.

“Hey, we’re okay—” Chris started.

“I know
we’re okay
, but what about my mom? They might be hurt,” Violet snapped at him as she turned around. Guilt flooded her. “I’m sorry.” She wiped the island with a damp cloth, unable to keep her hands still. “I have a tendency to say whatever is going through my head.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Chris said. “Gunshots will make anyone concerned.”

“Mom says I need to use the filter between my brain and mouth more often.”

“I’ve never had that problem.” He raised a brow at her. “Most people complain that I don’t tell them what I’m thinking.”

Violet believed it. The whole time she’d been around him, she’d had no clue what was going on in his head. She had been able to tell he was happy when he looked at the picture of his son and brother, but she didn’t know what he thought about their current situation. He was almost annoyingly calm.

“What about the gunshots?” she pressed. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

“Do what? Run out and try to find someone with a gun in the middle of the woods? We’re safest right here. Frisco probably knows every inch of this forest, and I noticed he handled that snowmobile like he’d been born on it. I felt confident about letting your mom leave with him.”

“Do you have a gun?” Violet held her breath.

He gazed at her for a few seconds. “Yes.”

She exhaled. “That’s good.” She felt a tiny bit better and focused on cleaning up the egg pan. She and Chris and Oro had finished every bite, she noticed as she remembered her mom hadn’t eaten before she left.
I’ll make more when she gets back.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Chris said solemnly. “Your mom trusted me with your safety.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. His face was deadly serious. Clearly he was taking his role as protector to heart. Violet had already mentally moved on to plans for filling her time with some baking. When she was bored or nervous, she baked. “I know,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m not nervous anymore,” she lied. “Do you have baker’s chocolate?”

“I don’t think so. Could you substitute hot chocolate mix?”

Violet bit the inside of her cheek, holding back a laugh. “I’m afraid not.”