Authors: Mariah Stewart
Chapter
Twenty
“Oh, Miss Smith. There you are.”
The young man called to Kendra from the back porch.
“I’m sorry,” he was saying, “I looked out before and didn’t see you.”
“Is something wrong?” Kendra rinsed her hands off under the garden hose. She was grimy and sweaty, but it had been good to spend the afternoon laboring at something. She’d felt out of sorts since leaving her house still in the hands of the police. It would be hours before their investigation would be completed, they’d told her, and it had unnerved her to learn that someone had had full and easy access to her home all along. She, who had always been so careful, so cautious. She’d been lucky to find Henry about to start planting in the Mission’s garden, pleased that he was one who enjoyed a little company at such times. It had kept her body moving and her mind occupied, for which she was grateful. Fortunately, Will Fletcher hadn’t much cared where they spent the time while they awaited the agent who’d been assigned to stay with Kendra. A glance at his watch, however, told him that they probably didn’t have too much more time before he got there, and that now would be a good time to start back to Smith House.
“Nothing’s wrong,” the man replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “but I promised Miss Brennan that I’d let you know that she called earlier, looking for you.”
“Selena called?” Her face brightened.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I called around, but I guess you didn’t hear me.” The young man lowered his eyes apologetically. He was so soft-spoken that Kendra had to strain to hear him.
“Did she leave a message?”
“Yes. She said to tell you that she got your message, but that she was tied up this afternoon. She asked me to tell you that she’d meet you at your house around five.”
Kendra looked at her watch. It was four-thirty.
“Well, then, I guess I’d better get moving. Thanks. Peter, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Peter.” She started in the direction of her car, then stopped and turned back. “Will you tell Father Tim that I stopped by? Henry said he was in a meeting this afternoon.”
“Sure thing.” Peter nodded from the doorway, then waved as the Subaru made a U-turn.
“Thanks again,” Kendra called as she drove past.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said softly.
* * *
The yellow crime scene tape still marked the back porch and almost seemed to glow in the last bit of daylight. Several cars remained in the drive when Kendra and Will arrived, though Selena’s was not one of them, and it appeared that most of the investigators were heading in the direction of the cars or packing equipment in the back of the vans.
“Looks like they may be wrapping up,” Will said as they got out of the car. “Want to wait here?”
“Sure,” she shrugged and leaned back against the car.
Will approached the small gathering of officers and agents who were still chatting in a loose group. Kendra hoped that her new “guardian” was among them. Though he’d been patient all afternoon while she had found useful means of passing the time, Kendra sensed that Will was anxious to get back to check on Miranda’s progress.
She glanced at her watch and realized it was a little after five. Selena should be there any time now. Surely she’d be all right for a few minutes alone so that Will could get a ride back to the hospital with one of his fellow agents. She was just debating this when she looked up and saw a man in a dark suit and dark glasses approaching, his hair closely cropped into a dark crew cut.
“Hi,” he called to her. “Kendra Smith?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Are you my new bodyguard?”
“I am,” he nodded, touching a finger to his mustache.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she smiled back. “I was just thinking that maybe I should try to talk Agent Fletcher into leaving, that I could wait alone. I think he’s in a hurry.”
“Not a good idea.” The man shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter, does it, since I’m here now.”
“Kendra,” Will called out as he walked toward them.
“It’s okay, Will, you can go,” Kendra called back.
“Joe Clark?” Will asked as he drew closer.
“Yes.” The newcomer held out his hand.
“Just in the nick of time.” Will shook the hand that was offered. To Kendra, he said, even as he backed away, “I’m getting a ride back with one of the others. You have my cell phone number—it’s on the card I gave you—so feel free to call if you need anything.”
“I won’t. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Now go. Everyone’s ready to leave. Give Miranda my love.”
“Will do,” he called back as he hurried across the drive to a waiting car. “Clark, good to meet you.”
“Am I allowed to go into the house?” Kendra asked Agent Clark. “I’d like to get a few things to take to Selena’s.”
“They’re done now.” The agent nodded agreeably. “They won’t be back. Go on in, get whatever you need. I’ll wait out here for you.”
“I won’t be a minute,” she told him as she turned for the house, noticing for the first time that he wore brown shoes. He must be new, she thought to herself. Most of the agents she knew dressed pretty well, and probably wouldn’t wear brown shoes with a black suit. Old brown shoes at that.
“Take your time,” he smiled and strolled down toward the stream.
The fashion eccentricities of her new companion forgotten, Kendra entered the back of the house, and was stunned by its silence. She found herself tiptoeing across the kitchen floor, then laughed nervously. This was, after all, her home.
She ran up the stairs to the second floor and grabbed an overnight bag from her closet. She had just finished stuffing it with the few things she thought she might need for a few days and had started back down the steps when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Kendra, where the hell have you been?”
“Adam, hi. I was at the Mission. Father Tim’s . . .”
“Has Will’s replacement arrived yet?”
“He just did. I came in to pack a few things to take to Selena’s. He’s waiting outside. Did you need to speak with him?”
“Not really. I just wanted to make certain that he’d gotten there and that everything was all right.”
“Everything is as all right as it’s going to be, I suppose.” Noting the tension in his voice, she asked, “Is something going on that I need to know about?”
“Yes. But first of all, I’m in Tucson, at the airport. My plane will be taking off any minute now, so listen carefully.”
“What are you doing in Tucson?”
“I’m about to tell you. But I need for you to sit down.”
“I’m sitting.” Her forehead creased with concern. “What’s happened?”
“I got a call from Sheriff Gamble early this morning.” Adam began to reiterate his earlier conversation with the sheriff.
“Wait. What we thought was
because
could mean
bee caves
?”
“That’s what Gamble suspected, but someone was going to have to search the caves.”
“And that would explain why you’re in Tucson. You wanted to be the one to search the caves.”
“Yes. Well, Gamble and I searched. I brought some beekeepers gear from Quantico and we went from cave to cave. There were millions of bees, Kendra. Millions, in these caves. God only knows how long these colonies have been there. Several of the caves were simply giant hives.” He hesitated, then said, “We found some remains.”
“Remains?”
“Remains of someone who’d apparently gone into the cave and was stung to death. The scraps of his clothing were literally covered with thousands of dead bees.”
“Oh, my God, that’s horrible. What a horrible way to die,” she whispered.
“Kendra, there was a backpack found near the mouth of the cave.”
“A backpack?”
“Zach’s wallet was inside.”
“The body . . . do they think the body is Zach’s?” Kendra’s mind scrambled to process the news.
“The possibility is being considered.” Adam appeared to be choosing his words carefully.
“And Ian?” she asked.
“There was no sign of a second body.”
“But maybe in another one of those caves, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would they have gone into different caves?” Her head began to spin. “Farther back, then, in that cave where they found Zach. Maybe Ian had wandered back there.”
“Kendra, there is no way anyone could have gotten any farther into those caves without being stung to death. And all of the caves have been checked out. I’m sorry, Kendra, but there’s only one body, and we won’t know for certain if it’s your cousin until the ME is finished.”
“But if that’s Zach,” she said as if she hadn’t heard him, “then where’s my brother?”
“We’re trying to figure that out. In the meantime, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where will you be later tonight?”
“Try Selena’s first. She left word at the Mission that she’d meet me here, but she hasn’t arrived yet. Here, write down her phone number.” Kendra gave him Selena’s number.
“I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way back.”
“Okay.” She didn’t protest. All of a sudden she missed him terribly. “Any thoughts on what time you expect to arrive?”
“It all depends on when they allow the plane to leave. Can you keep safe until then?”
“I’ll do my best.”
She rested the receiver down, reflecting on Adam’s news. A body had been found, but only one. A backpack had been found. Again, only one. Zach’s. If the body in the cave was Zach’s, then where was Ian’s? And if he hadn’t died in the cave with Zach, where was he now? Where had he been for the past ten years?
She was sitting with her elbows on the desktop, her chin in her hands, wondering what to think, what to believe, when she noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking furiously. Kendra pushed the play button.
“. . . to get you yesterday afternoon . . .” Selena was saying. “. . . before I left, but there was no answer. My sister-in-law broke her elbow—in-line skating with the kids—by the way, remind me to pass on that next time the opportunity arises. Anyway, I drove up here to take care of my niece until things settle down. I expect I’ll be back by tomorrow, by then they should have been able to arrange for someone to come in to help out. I brought Lola with me, by the way, because there just didn’t seem to be quite enough chaos in my brother’s house the last time I was here.”
Selena paused, then laughed self-consciously. “There was one other thing. . . . I know you’ll think I’m crazy. But, well, I’ve been having the worst dreams, Kendra. Dark and threatening and well . . . well, the darkness seems to be directed toward you, though I can’t pinpoint what or who or why. But it’s gathering around you . . . surrounding you . . . I can’t explain it and I don’t know what it means.” She laughed again, the laughter sounding forced. “Okay, yeah, I know. Nutty Selena.”
She hesitated, then added, “You know, maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t have tried so hard to push all of that out of me. Maybe I should have left well enough alone. Maybe I’d know how best to interpret the impressions that I’m getting. Damn, Kendra, I’m sorry if I’m scaring you. I probably shouldn’t have said anything at all. If I could figure out how to erase this tape from here, I would. Anyway, you have my brother’s phone number. Give me a call when you get this message and I’ll deny that I ever said any, well, any of the stuff I just said. I’m sorry. I guess it’s just silliness. . . .”
Kendra frowned. Selena must have left that message before she called the Mission to tell her that she’d meet her here at the house at five. Maybe Selena’s sister-in-law was released from the hospital earlier than expected.
Kendra stood up and opened the middle desk drawer for her phone book, a small loose-leaf notebook covered in a plaid fabric in which she kept every phone number she’d recorded practically since college. She’d just located the number for Selena’s brother when she heard the soft shuffle of a foot behind her.
“Hello, Kenny,” a soft voice said from behind.
She looked over her shoulder at the man who stood in the doorway.
“Peter . . . ?” What was he doing here? And where was Joe Clark?
“No, no. Not Peter.”
“Where’s Joe Clark?” she asked.
He took one step into the foyer, and she noticed his shoes. Brown leather. She knew where she’d just seen them.
“Guess.”
She shook her head, confused.
“Oh, come on, now. You can figure it out. We all know what a smart cookie you are.” He circled her. From one pocket he drew out something dark and furry, which he draped over his top lip. “Look familiar?”
He slipped dark glasses on and she gasped.
“Who are you?”
Pausing behind her, he whispered in her ear, “Here’s a clue. How many people call you Kenny?”
“No one . . .” Her hand flew to her mouth, remembering.
“Ahhhhh.” He smiled with great satisfaction.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Say it.” He leaned directly into her face. “Ian. Say it.
Ian
.”
Kendra tried to step backward, but the desk was in the way.
“Now, after all the years you grieved for me . . . you did grieve for me, you and Mom, didn’t you?”
His eyes narrowed and Kendra tried to peer into them, tried to determine their depth, but she saw nothing. How could these dark, blank eyes be Ian’s? Was this his face? It had been so long since that summer day they’d put him on the plane to Arizona. Had the young boy’s soft face smoothed into such lean angles?
“How could you be Ian?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her brain refusing to acknowledge this face as the face she’d so recently studied, so recently sketched.
No. No no no no no no . . .
“How could I be anyone but?” He appeared slightly amused. “Well, I suppose I really can’t blame you. I have been a bit . . . scarce.”
“Why?”
“Why? Why have I been scarce?”
She nodded as if dazed.
“Why did I . . . disappear?”
Again she nodded.
“I’d had enough,” he whispered in her ear, as if sharing a confidence. Then the whisper became a hiss. “Enough of her rules and her demands and her school and her arguments and her—”
“My brother never would have just walked away from his home. It wouldn’t have happened,” Kendra interrupted, shaking her head slightly, side to side. “No. He had no reason to run away, he had—”