Maggie Shayne - Colder Than Ice

“The Young Believers,” Bryan said.

Josh lost his entire train of thought. “You know about them, too?”

“Sure I know. Mom told me about the raid that went bad. She told me about the girl you accidentally shot, how you lost your job over it. And she told me never to bring it up with you. She said it was the worst time of your life and probably the main reason you two broke up. She said the guilt ruined you.”

Josh just sat there for a moment, absorbing his son’s words. “I had no idea she’d told you all that.”

Bryan tipped his head to one side. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear your version of it. Besides, what does all that have to do with Beth Slocum?”

“Everything,” Joshua said softly. He looked his son in the eyes. “It turns out she’s the girl I shot.”

Bryan bobbed his head forward, eyes widening. “But I thought the girl you shot was dead.”

“So did everyone else. Nearly everyone, I mean. For all these years, I believed it. When I went to see her in the hospital after the raid, she was in a coma. They told me she wouldn’t live, and the way she looked, I had no trouble believing it. She was…hell, she was your age.”

“And they let you think you’d killed her? I can’t believe no one ever told you. You recognized her when we first saw her, didn’t you?”

“I did. It had been a while—she was eighteen years younger and at death’s door when I last saw her, after all. But yeah, it’s not like that face hasn’t haunted me ever since. I just couldn’t believe it could really be her.”

Bryan nodded slowly, his eyes holding his father’s, almost probing them. “That’s what’s different, then.”

Josh looked at him, unsure what his son meant.

“The guilt you’ve been carrying around, Dad. Jeez, finding out you didn’t kill her after all must have been like having a lead weight taken off your shoulders.”

He nodded slowly. “You know, that’s probably it.” Then he frowned. “You ought to look into a future as a shrink, you know that?”

“Doesn’t take a shrink to nail that one.” He paused, studying his father’s face so closely that Josh wondered what his son saw there. Then he said, “Tell me the rest, Dad.”

He really wanted to know, Josh realized. He organized his thoughts and continued his story. “The cult leader, Mordecai Young, didn’t die in the raid, either, though for a long while everyone believed he had.”

“So that’s who they think might come after Beth?”

Josh nodded. “A year ago they crossed paths. She was a teacher—he’d kidnapped one of her students. She bluffed her way into the house were Mordecai was holding the girl, and then she tried to kill him.”

“No way.”

Josh nodded. “Shot him point-blank, right in the chest. But he’d vested up ahead of time. The Feds figured the most she’d done was piss him off, and that if he could ever find her, he’d return the favor. So she was relocated.”

“You think it might have been him—Mordecai Young—in that brown car earlier?”

“I don’t know. We should probably err on the side of caution, though.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t like her being in that cottage alone. It makes protecting her nearly impossible.”

Bryan opened his mouth, then closed it again and leaned back on the couch, looking stunned by all his father had revealed.

“What?” Josh asked.

“Nothing. Hell, I’m blown away by this. I can imagine how you must feel, but—no. Nothing.”

“Bry, come on. I wouldn’t have told you all this if I didn’t trust you. So if there’s something you want to say, spit it out.”

Bryan shrugged. “Just…I don’t know. Lying to her to protect her was one thing. Not telling her you’re the guy who shot her…It’s way worse. It feels wrong.”

“I know. But…she’d send us packing if she knew. And that would leave her unprotected.”

“I guess. But shouldn’t that be up to her? I mean, it’s her life, Dad.”

Josh sighed. “I know. And you’re right. I hate this, Bry. But Jesus, if I make the wrong move and she ends up dead…”

“You figure this is your chance to make up for the past.”

“It’s more than that. This isn’t about me. It’s about protecting Beth.”

“I don’t blame you, Dad. I mean, I disagree with you, but I don’t blame you. I guess I might do the same thing.”

No anger, no accusations. Josh couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t told his son the worst of what he’d learned by reading Beth’s dossier, though. That she’d had a child, a daughter who’d been adopted while she’d lingered in a coma, fighting for her life. And raised by someone else while she’d been putting that life back together again.

A daughter. A little girl she had lost because of him. And if there was one tragedy Joshua understood, it was the loss of a child.

Bryan didn’t need to know all that. That was Beth’s private hell—and his own.

“I just wish I could come up with an excuse to get into Beth’s house long enough to check the place out, make sure her locks are secure, things like that.”

The screen door creaked open, and Maude walked in, accompanied by another woman, one who wore baggy jeans and a sweatshirt with a one-horned moose on the front. Printed beneath the moose were the words, Is That Your Final Antler?

Bryan grinned at the sweatshirt as he got up, to relieve the women of the shopping bags they carried. “A movie and shopping in one night?” Bryan asked.

“It was a long movie. We got hungry,” the newcomer said. She had short copper-red hair, in tight kinky curls, and was younger than Maude. Late fifties, Joshua guessed.

“Boys, this is my good friend, Frankie Parker.”

Joshua was on his feet, as well. “Police Chief Frankie Parker?”

“The one and only,” she said, extending a hand.

“Frankie, this is my grandson Joshua and his boy Bryan.”

Frankie was smiling, but her smile died. “Don’t play with me, Maude. You don’t have any grandson.”

“As far as you or anyone else in this town is concerned, Frankie, I most certainly do.”

Frankie frowned at her.

“Trust me. It’s important. And it’s between us, Frankie. I knew you would hear about this and start snooping sooner or later. How much Josh does or does not want to tell you is up to him. All you need to know is that he’s here for a good reason. And that I trust him.”

“I don’t like this, Maude.”

“You don’t have to, Frankie.”

Frankie moved her gaze to Josh’s. “Good to meet you.”

“Same here,” Josh said, but he wasn’t happy about the situation. Clearly this woman knew more than she should.

“If you’re up to no good, I’ll find out.”

“I’ve got no doubt about that. But I’m not.”

Bryan looked worried, and when the old woman’s eyes fell on him, he said, “I’ll, uh, put these away for you.” He carried the groceries into the kitchen.

“Leave the dry goods right in the bags, Bryan,” Maude called. Then she turned to Frankie. “Thanks for helping me in with the bags, hon.”

“Anytime, Maudie. You…give me a call if you need anything.” She sent a lingering look at Josh, and he had no doubt she would be on the horn tomorrow, checking him out with every contact she had.

“Like I’m gonna need anything with these two strapping men around the house,” Maude said. She walked her friend to the door, waved as the other woman left, then turned to face Josh. “Don’t look like that,” she said. “What else could I say? She’s known me for thirty years. And unlike most folks in town, she knows I never had children.” She shrugged. “Besides, I trust her. She’s not going to blow your cover.”