Читать книгу Kiss Me, Kill Me - Maggie Shayne - Страница 8

Carrie drove her son’s ridiculously ostentatious car away from the high school, and thought about Gabriel Cain and why his name sounded so familiar. He obviously wasn’t well-off, driving an old VW Bus around the way he did. A drifter, by his own admission. She’d always wondered what drove men like that. Her own father had suffered from what her mother had called itchy feet. She’d grown up hating it. Hating it. Just when she would get used to one school district and begin to make a few friends, her father would yank up stakes and make them move again. It had been traumatic to her as a child and even more so as a teen. But her mother had always put her father first, ahead of her own child. And she’d hated that, too.

She’d never understood the wanderlust.

And she was irritated that she was thinking about painful elements of her childhood just because some stranger had wandered into her E.R. To hell with that. She reached for the MP3 player’s controls, found the playlist titled Just for Mom and, smiling a little at her son’s thoughtfulness, hit the Play button.

Then, as the smooth, soothing guitar and deep, rugged vocals of country music legend Sammy Gold filled the car, she relaxed and enjoyed the rest of her drive.

Her modified A-frame was waiting, as peaceful as always. Sam and the ever-present Sadie sat on the broad front porch. As Carrie pulled the SUV up to the oversize garage, she saw that Sam had his legs extended, feet on a wicker footstool and an ice pack on his knee.

Frowning, she parked the SUV, hit the button to close the garage door, then hurried outside, across the drive and up the steps to the first level of her two-story wraparound deck.

“What happened?” Carrie dropped her medical bag and purse on the glass-topped wicker table, and crouched in front of her son to remove the cold pack.

“Nothing, Mom. It’s just a little swollen and sore from overuse. Coach said to ice it.”

“Coach didn’t go to medical school.” She poked and prodded at his swollen knee, then flexed it a few times, one hand over the kneecap to feel for any problems.

“So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Sam asked.

She tried not to smile and said, “It’s strained from overuse. Ice it.”

“Thank God for med school, huh?”

“Watch it, pal.” She smiled at his teasing, though, and finally turned to Sadie. “Hi, hon. How’s your day going?”

“Better now that you’re here. You wouldn’t believe how he’s been whining about the game.”

“Lost, huh?” Carrie asked her son.

“By one. One. On a penalty shot based on a bad call. You wouldn’t even believe—”

She held up a hand. “Yes, I would.”

Sam gave them both the stink-eye and tried to change the subject. “How’s Marty?”

“He’s fine, hon. No side effects. Just a nasty bout of asthma and a bump on the head to boot.”

“Good thing Marty’s got a thick skull,” Sadie put in.

“That’s what I told him.” Carrie sighed as she looked at her watch. “It’s almost time for the afternoon round of searching for Kyle. But maybe you ought to take tonight off, Sam. Rest your knee.”

“No way. I’m not going to stop looking until we find him.”

She thinned her lips but didn’t argue. “It’s your call, hon. But I really don’t think we’re going to find Kyle by trekking through the woods.”

“I know what you think,” he said. “And you know I think you’re wrong. Dead wrong. Kyle didn’t run away. He wouldn’t run away. Something happened to him—something bad.”

“I know you believe that—”

“And no one’s taking it seriously. Everyone’s assuming he just ran off, that he isn’t out there somewhere, needing help.”

“Regardless of what anyone believes, Sam, everyone is out looking. Bryan Kendall swears that he and everyone else in the police department are treating this like a missing person case, not like a runaway, just in case. So all the bases are covered.”

“Right,” Sadie said. “And we appreciate how much time you’ve been putting into the search, Carrie. Even though you don’t think it’s going to get us any results.”

“Thanks for saying so,” Carrie said. And she gave the girl a smile, thinking again how much she liked Sadie. She was tough and smart and not afraid to say her piece. Girls were growing up strong these days. She liked that, too.

Sam was still frowning, no doubt frustrated. Carrie wished she could make this better for him, but only bringing his friend back home would do that. Damn Kyle for worrying everyone like this.

“It’s three,” Sadie said. “If we’re going to be at the firehouse by four, we’d better grab a bite and get ready.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sam muttered.

Sadie met Carrie’s eyes, rolled her own. “The average halfback runs eight miles per match,” the girl said, “burning off a few thousand calories in the process. There’s no possibility that you are not hungry. So it’s obvious you’re saying that just to make sure we know how miserable you are. But honestly, Sammy, it doesn’t help Kyle one bit to play stubborn and refuse to eat. It only hurts you. So do what you want. Your mom and I are going to get some food.”

And with that she got to her feet and sauntered through the wide entry door into the house.

Carrie smiled. “I swear, son, you’ve got yourself a keeper there.”

He smiled back. “I know I do.” Then he tossed the blue cold pack to her and leaped off the chair to his feet, forcing Carrie to bite back a squeak of protest.

In a moment her son was through the door, catching up to Sadie and sliding his arms around her waist from behind.

Carrie sighed, glad Sadie was around to help pull Sam through this tough time, and started forward herself, then stopped when she heard a vehicle in the driveway.

Turning, she saw an unfamiliar old-school station wagon with wood-grain sides. She hadn’t seen one like it since she was a kid, she thought. It pulled to a stop, and a smiling woman got out, her head of snow-white hair like a soft, fluffy cloud. Twinkling eyes, crinkled at the corners, gazed her way as the woman waved a hand.

“Hello,” she called. “Dr. Overton?”

Carrie nodded and, since the woman was hurrying toward her, trotted down the steps and met her in the driveway.

“I’m Rose. Rose McQueen. I know it’s terribly presumptuous of me to come by in person like this, but I just had to try.”

Rose McQueen. Carrie’s rapid-fire brain ran the name through its files and found a match. If only she could be so efficient in figuring out where she’d heard the name Gabriel Cain before.

Now what was he still doing on her mind?

“Yes, I remember,” she said, tugging herself back into the moment. “You phoned me last week about the room over the garage.”

The woman nodded. “Yes, and you said you weren’t going to be renting it out this year.”

Carrie nodded, catching a whiff of the woman’s perfume, which reminded her of her grandmother’s flowery favorite scent. “It’s just with the circumstances—”

“The missing boy. I know. I’ve seen the flyers. And you have a son of your own, so I completely understand why you wouldn’t want a stranger around right now.”

“Exactly,” Carrie said. She didn’t add that she wasn’t all that worried about strangers, since she didn’t think Kyle had met with any sort of foul play. No, she was more concerned about the gossip-seeking tabloid junkies and money-seeking amateur sleuths, all sniffing around for information on the missing baby from sixteen years ago.

“But still, I wanted to come by. Partly because most people just love me once they meet me,” Rose said, exaggeratedly batting her eyelashes and offering a coy smile that had Carrie smiling right back. “And partly because I figured you could tell at a glance that I’m no menacing kidnapper type.”

“I can see that you’re not at all menacing.” The older woman wore a long floral print jacket that floated when she moved, over a plain white button-down top and dressy brown trousers. The jacket gave the outfit flash, color, style and motion, and it looked expensive.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot.” The woman opened the very large quilted shoulder bag she carried and tugged out a plastic container with a tight-fitting lid. “These are for you and your family. A blatant attempt at bribery, I admit. But you get to keep them even if you don’t change your mind.”

Carrie took the container, which was semitransparent. “Brownies?”

“The best brownies in the universe. Even if you say no now, you’ll be saying yes after you eat your first bite just in hopes you might get another batch.”

Carrie laughed out loud that time. She liked this lady.

“Now, I promise I won’t make a pest of myself by asking again after today. This is my last-ditch effort. But I haven’t been able to find a vacancy anywhere else in town, and the woman at the store said you usually rent out that garage apartment to tourists in the fall, and I really want to be here as the leaves begin to change this year. I’ve missed it so much.”

Carrie lifted her brows. “You’ve been here before, then?”

“I grew up here,” Rose said. “Well, until I was ten and my family moved west. I told myself I’d have one more autumn in Shadow Falls before I died. And I’m not one to complain, but it looks like I might not have too many more autumns in me.”

Carrie blinked and knew the woman had her. How could she say no to a plea like that? And it was true; she usually did rent out that room, more as a favor to the town than out of any real need for the extra cash. Shadow Falls encouraged its year-round residents to make use of extra space that way, because it was good for tourism. The regular rooms booked up a year in advance, but the town hated to turn away anyone who wanted to visit. Especially lately, when times had been tough. The ski resort owners were having more trouble than anyone. Poor Nate Kelly was talking about selling his Sugar Tree Lodge. The winters just hadn’t been producing the snow they used to, and making it was expensive. But while the ski business was the one in crisis, things were tightening up for everyone in the tourist industry, so providing a room for overflow visitors was Carrie’s little bit of public service for her adopted hometown. But she hadn’t intended to do it this year.

Until now. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, teasing the woman back a little. “Maybe I’d better taste one of these brownies first.”

Rose smiled, knowing she’d won her case. “I think I like you, Dr. Overton.”

“Call me Carrie.” She pointed to a spot beside the garage. “You can pull the car up right there. I’ll run in and get the key, and then I’ll show you the room.”

Rose beamed. “Oh, thank you, Carrie. Thank you so, so much. You can’t possibly know what this means to me.”

“Sam Overton, right?” Gabe had seen the familiar giant red SUV pull up in front of the old firehouse, watched the boy get out, and felt a surprising letdown when he noted that the female with him was the cute little blonde girlfriend and not his redheaded mother. He’d been looking for her amid the crowd of volunteers since he’d arrived fifteen minutes ago.

The firehouse was like something out of a forty- or fifty-year-old snapshot, a small wooden structure with a giant bell on top that would have to be rung by hand. Handpainted lettering spelled out Shadow Falls Fire Station. Gabe figured there was probably an old-fashioned pole inside, too.

Behind and to the right, there was a big modern fire station with three bays, overhead doors and speakers mounted on the roof. But the town had the good sense, in Gabe’s opinion, to keep the old one. And not only to keep it, but use it. It fit here, nestled amid the maple- and pine-covered hills that were just beginning to come alive with color.

Sam glanced at Gabe then looked again. “Right, you’re the guy who helped out with Marty at the game earlier.” He extended a hand as he added, “Thanks for that.”

“No problem. How’s he doing?”

“Fine. Great. So you’re joining in the search, then?”

“Yeah, your mom told me about it. I, uh—I thought she was going to be here.”

“She’s gonna be late. We got a boarder at the last minute, and she had to get her settled in.”

“A boarder?”

“We rent the little apartment over the garage when there’s overflow at the local inns and stuff.” Sam winced, partly due to the elbow in his rib cage. “Sorry,” he said to the girl who’d thrown it. “This is my girlfriend, Sadie.”

Gabe extended a hand to the pretty cheerleader, remembering her from the soccer game—match. “Gabriel Cain,” he said. “Good to meet you.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Sam, who gaped and said, “Not the Gabriel Cain? The songwriter?”

Gabe lowered his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m kinda keeping that to myself for the moment.”

“Why? I’d be wearing a T-shirt with my platinum records all over it!” Sam looked at Sadie, who was wearing a puzzled frown. “It’s Gabriel Cain. You know. ‘Birds in the Wind,’ ‘Silent Song,’ ‘Sunbeam’…”

Her brows went up as Sam said, his voice growing louder with every word, “He wrote them. And tons more. He’s freakin’ famous.”

“Again,” Gabe said, “keeping a low profile here.”

“Sure, sure, I got that. But damn, Gabriel Cain, right here in Shadow Falls. Hey, I play a little, you know. We should jam or something. How long are you going to be in town?”

Gabe smiled, loving the kid’s enthusiasm. “I don’t know yet. I tend to go where the wind takes me.”

“Dude, that must be amazing.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Cain,” Sadie said. “A real honor. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize your name, but ‘Silent Song’ is one of my favorites. It’s on my iPod.”

“Thanks.” He shifted his focus to the boy again. “I’d love to jam with you, Sam. I’ve got my guitar in the bus, so we can get together whenever you have time.”

“The bus? You brought a bus? How are you gonna keep a low profile with a—”

Gabe cut him off with a nod toward his vehicle. “Not a tour bus. A VW Bus,” he said.

Sam looked at it and grinned. “You call that low-profile? What is it, a sixty-four?”

“Sixty-five. I call her Livvy.”

“Livvy? Old girlfriend?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She was as much of a wreck when I found her as the bus was. I managed to do for the bus what I couldn’t do for the girl.”

“What’s that?” Sadie asked.

Gabe shrugged. “Save her, I guess.”

Sadie looked sad and lowered her head, but the sentimental moment was completely lost on Sam, who was moving closer to the bus with the other two left to follow in his wake. He ran a hand over the paint, the giant flowers and psychedelic swirls of yellow and green, and shook his head. “You restored her yourself?”

“I had help from friends here and there, but mostly, yeah, she was my project.”

“What’s under the hood?”

Gabe smiled. “Nothing like what’s under yours, kid. I heard you earned that Ford the hard way.”

It was Sam’s turn to look embarrassed. “It wasn’t as big a deal as the professor made it out to be.”

“I kinda doubt that.”

The kid looked up into Gabe’s eyes, and Gabe had a moment of stark revelation. There was something about the boy’s eyes—something painfully familiar. Or maybe he was just getting way too into wishful thinking.

“Looks like something’s happening,” Gabe said, nodding at the uniformed men now moving through the crowd, urging people to break into groups of ten or so.

“Yeah, time to go. I’d love to see the inside of the bus sometime, though.”

“I’ll let you drive her later, if you want.”

“Really?” Sam beamed, but then his smile faded as he heard a cop on a megaphone begin the routine speech about how the search would unfold this evening, what areas would be covered, and what someone should do if they found anything.

Anything, Gabe knew, meant Kyle Becker, Sam’s missing friend. And, more than likely, it meant his body. Because finding him in the woods alive didn’t seem a very likely scenario. He could only hope the kid wasn’t in the woods at all but had run away, as the curly-maned doctor theorized. He clapped a hand to the boy’s shoulder. “Hang in there. I know this is a rough time for you.”

Sam met Gabe’s eyes and shook his head. “I don’t think we’re gonna find him, Gabe. Not…not alive, anyway.”

Sadie gasped. “Don’t say that, Sammy!”

“Sorry, I just—I know Kyle. He wouldn’t run away without saying something, you know? He’d have told me if he was thinking about something like that. And it’s not like he’s got any reason, you know? Not like you do, Sadie. If anyone was going to run away, it would be you. But not Kyle. He had it good. Great family, no issues. He had no reason in the world to take off.”

Gabe looked at Sadie, wondering just what her home life must be like if her boyfriend felt she had reason to run away. But she misread the look and seemed to think he was looking for her to confirm Sam’s words.

“He’s right, Gabe. Kyle wouldn’t just leave. Hell, even I wouldn’t do that. Not without telling someone.”

“Not without telling me,” Sam said, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his side.

“You know it, Sammy.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Come on, Gabe. We’ll all get in the same group.”

“Thanks. I was kinda hoping you’d ask. I don’t know anybody else in town.”

“Other than Carrie, right?” Sadie said. And she had a little twinkle of speculation in her eyes as she said it.

“Other than Carrie. Right.”

They walked together, the teens arm in arm, melding into a group that looked a few searchers short. Another man came hurrying along with them, apparently looking for fellow stragglers to join up with.

Gabe recognized him. He had brown hair, closely cut, styled with the help of too much gel. His skin was startlingly tanned in contrast to his light brown hair and brows, and his dress shoes were totally unsuited to hiking through the mountains. Gabe had seen him at the soccer game—er, match, he thought with a little smile. He’d only noticed the guy because they’d been reading the same issue of the same tabloid. And because he’d been the only guy at the game wearing a suit and tie. This afternoon he’d chosen dress pants that were probably thin enough to let stray briars stick through, and a sporty black and yellow jacket he’d probably picked up in town. It looked brand-new.

“Mind if I join up with your group?” the man asked, addressing the kids, not Gabe, which Gabe found a little off-putting.

“It’s not our group,” Sam said. “But sure, come on.”

“I didn’t think I was going to make it on time,” the stranger added with an exaggeratedly heavy breath. “Just heard about this.”

“Are you from out of town, too?” Gabe asked.

The man looked at him as if he’d only just noticed his presence but sent him what seemed to be a genuine smile. “Yes, I am. Ambrose Arthur Peck,” he said, extending a hand.

“I’m Gabe.” Gabe shook hands with the newcomer. “Where are you from, Ambrose?”

“Milwaukee. I’m CEO of an investment firm there. Manlin, Taylor & Strauss. Have you heard of it?”

“No,” Gabe said. “But don’t think of that as a bad thing. I only tend to hear about the ones under investigation by the FCC.”

Sadie pretended to cough, but only to disguise a snort of laughter. Gabe felt a little bad for sort of dissing the guy. Just because he himself didn’t like trying to impress people by sharing his résumé upon meeting them, that didn’t mean he ought to judge those who did. To each his own.

“I’ll have to get one of your cards,” Gabe said, to try to make up for it. “An honest firm that manages to be successful in this economy is a real find.”

The man looked at him as if doubting he had any money to invest, but he smiled and said, “I don’t have them on me, but I’ll make sure I do the next time we meet.”

“Great.” Gabe turned his attention to the people in the group they had joined. The rest were all locals, he thought. He caught a few names, tried to commit them to memory. Marie was the plump lady with the bad haircut who looked forty but was more than likely in her twenties, and she was a baker. Made pies and cakes for the local eateries, she said. The tall skinny guy who looked like an undertaker was Nate Kelly, and he owned one of the local ski lodges. There were others, but the names and faces blurred together. They chatted comfortably until a white-haired man with a face like a road map and wearing a police uniform stepped onto some sort of platform in front of the old fire station. Gabe couldn’t see what the platform was, due to all the legs around it, but he could see the cop clearly now that he stood a foot above everyone else, especially since the man was tall to begin with.

“Okay, pipe down,” the man said, and his voice was like gravel. “For those who are new, I’m Chief MacNamara, Shadow Falls P.D. Thanks for helping us out on this. We wish to hell we didn’t need it. You’re each going to get a copy of a map with your area marked in red. There’s a grid pattern on your maps, to make it easier for you to make sure you cover all the ground. You’ll each be given a whistle. If you find anything suspicious, blow the whistle. Don’t go near what you find, don’t touch anything. Just blow the whistle. The only exception to that is if you find a person who is alive but injured, and in need of your immediate assistance. Other than that, just blow the whistle. Is that understood?”

The crowd nodded and murmured.

“I mean it. Now, this is the boy we’re looking for.” He held up a poster with Kyle’s face on it. “Don’t worry. You’ll each get a copy. He was last seen five days ago, so if he’s lost in those woods, he’s going to be hungry. You’re all getting a protein bar and a bottle of water to give to him if you find him and he’s able to eat it.” He looked to the side, where firefighters and cops were already beginning to hand out supplies to the searchers. The items were all packed into plastic drawstring bags made to be worn backpack-style, and one was being handed out to each searcher.

“We quit at dark,” the chief went on. “You’ll each have a team leader from the police or fire department, and I expect you to do what they tell you. If you don’t like that, go home. When the search ends and you return here, please put the supplies you’ve been given into one of these boxes up front, so we can use them again when we resume in the morning. Any questions?”

He paused for about a second and a half, then said, “Good. Now, Paul and Diana Becker have a word or two for you.”

Sam leaned close to Gabe. “Kyle’s parents,” he whispered. “They start off this way every shift, every day.”

“She looks exhausted,” Sadie said softly. “God, I think she’s aged ten years this past week.”

“No wonder,” Gabe said.

“Those poor people,” Ambrose muttered. “What they must be going through.”

Gabe nodded in agreement, then they fell silent as Paul Becker, a lumberjack-sized torso on a five-foot-six frame, took the chief’s place on the platform. Despite his bulk, Kyle’s father looked as if a stiff wind would blow him over.

“Diana and I want to thank you all for coming out. Our friends and neighbors—you’ve been here every step and we’re grateful. You out-of-towners—I don’t even know what to say. Takin’ time out of your vacations to help us, well, it’s pretty amazing. Thank you.”

He looked at his wife, who stood in the circle of his powerful arm. She had a raccoon look to her, but not from running makeup. The dark circles beneath her eyes were purely stress induced. She was a little stooped, too, but not, Gabe suspected, from osteoporosis.

She said, “We want you to know you’re in our prayers, every last one of you. God bless you.”

Her voice was weak. The group applauded as the couple stepped off their makeshift podium, people touching them, patting them on the arm or shoulder, as they made their way inside the old firehouse, which seemed to have become a command post of sorts.

It was a photographer’s dream of a building, that little old-fashioned firehouse, Gabe noted again, even as his heart went out to the couple who had just entered. He had an eye for beautiful things. Usually it was natural beauty that appealed to him, but not exclusively. He loved beautiful places, and Shadow Falls certainly qualified. But the old-fashioned charm of its buildings and the respect with which they’d been preserved made the place even more attractive to him.

His admiration of the idyllic scenery came to a halt as his group began moving and he heard air brakes hissing from the road behind him. He looked around to see a line of school buses pulling up along the road side. Gabe stuck close to Sam and Sadie as a grim feeling settled over him. The realization hit him that this search might end with something none of them wanted to find.

Once their bus was fully loaded and its door closed, a firefighter stood up in the front.

“Here we go,” Sam muttered.

Gabe glanced over to where Sam sat with Sadie in the seat beside the one he and Ambrose were sharing, and saw him fitting a set of earbuds into place and fiddling with his iPod.

“You should probably pay attention,” Ambrose said.

“He’s heard it a dozen times already,” Sadie told him. “Really. Trust me, it’s okay.”

Ambrose lifted his brows but returned his attention to the man up front, as did Gabe.

“Now that we’re in private, I need to give you the part of the speech I wish I didn’t have to. Kyle’s been gone five days. Now, the weather’s been good, so if he’s out here somewhere and hurt, he might very well still be alive. But we can’t ignore the possibility that we’re looking for a body out there. So you need to make sure you keep that in mind and poke around in the underbrush. Use a branch to prod small bodies of water. Keep an eye out for drop-offs and cliff faces, and check out the bottoms of those. And while it’s unlikely, I also have to advise you to note the location of and report any earth that looks freshly turned. Much as I hate to even think along those lines.” He lowered his head. “Hope for the best but prepare for the worst, as they say. Now let’s go find Kyle and bring him home.”

The bus rumbled into motion, and Gabe understood why Sam hadn’t wanted to listen to that particular speech. It must be hard to be reminded of the worst-case scenario when the subject of the speculation was a friend. Maybe a best friend.

No kid should have to go through this. Not ever.

Gabe settled back in his seat and thought about how the importance of his own search paled in comparison to this one. He pulled out the flyer he’d been given, taking a good long look at Kyle’s smiling face, reading the stats printed below it, including his birthday.

And that reminded him, painfully, that the boy had been born at the right time to be the kid he’d come here to find. Had Kyle actually been missing for a whole lot longer than the last five days?