Cry in the Night Page 8

  Bree showed her to the powder room, then checked on Davy and the baby before going back to the hall to wait on Jenna. The woman was very different from her brother. She’d be more at home in New York than a small town in the UP.

  The powder-room door opened. Jenna had removed her hat and coat, and her blonde hair curled around her shoulders. She wore impeccably pressed gray trousers and a pink blouse under a tailored jacket. “Thanks for seeing me. I just got to town.”

  Jenna followed Bree into the living room, where flames leaped in the fireplace. Samson followed close on Bree’s heels. “Sit down,” Bree said, indicating the chair by the fire.

  “The fire is lovely.” She sniffed. “Your candle smells wonderful.” Jenna sank into the chair and crossed her legs.

  “How can I help you?” Bree asked.

  “Did you see anything that might help me clear my brother?” Jenna asked.

  Bree hated to disillusion the woman. “I’m afraid not. I actually saw him with the bloody shovel in his hand.”

  “He probably found it and picked it up,” Jenna said.

  “I thought it likely.”

  Bree noticed her staring at the pictures. “That’s Davy, my son.”

  “Cute kid.” Jenna turned away.

  Bree heard a faint cry. “Just a moment.” She ran up the stairs. Davy was talking to the infant, showing her the pieces of his puzzle. The baby’s blue eyes stayed fastened on his face. Smiling, Bree lifted the baby from the carrier. Glancing at her watch, she saw the girl couldn’t possibly be hungry. She checked the diaper. Dry. “Faker,” she scolded, carrying the child back to the living room.

  “Oh, such a darling baby,” Jenna said when Bree stepped back into the living room. “How old is she?”

  “We’re not really sure. Less than two weeks,” Bree said. She told Jenna about finding Pia’s body and the baby in the woods. “One of Victor’s sudokus was in her bag.”

  Jenna bit her lip. “So you’re saying Victor might have had something to do with that woman’s death too?” She rubbed her forehead. “Oh, what am I going to do?”

  Poor woman. Bree reached over and took her hand. “Sheriff Kaleva will sort it out. He has to follow the leads, but he’s smart and intuitive. He’ll find whoever is behind the murder.”

  Jenna clung to her hand. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t know where to turn.”

  “Where are you staying?” Bree asked. The woman’s vulnerability touched her.

  “I-I don’t know. I tried the hotel downtown, but it’s full.”

  “The festival is this weekend. It’s always sold out early with vendors hitting town to get stuff set up.” The Blue Bonnet Bed-and Breakfast next door was closed while Martha was out of town. There was nowhere else to recommend. “You’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got a guest room with your name on it.” It might not be up to Jenna’s city standards, but it was clean.

  “I wouldn’t want to be a bother to you or your husband. Are you sure he won’t mind?”

  “I’m sure. Mason will have this squared away in a few days. You’ll see.”

  The baby whimpered, and Bree rocked her a bit. Mason would be busy investigating the murders, but she was determined to find this little one’s family.

  Kade stopped the snowmobile and consulted his map. The report of the screaming last night had been just over the next hill. Any evidence he could find of cougars here would bolster the chances for the grant. If he could find a den, he’d have proof of a breeding population. His goal was to get a picture of cubs.

  Driving forward slowly, he scanned the ground for evidence like tracks or scat, but all he spotted were fox tracks. Until he started down the slope. At the base of a large maple tree, he saw a pile of droppings. Dismounting his sled, he knelt and examined the excrement. His excitement rose when he realized it belonged to a big cat. It might be that of a lynx, but he couldn’t help the surge of hope. Grabbing a plastic bag from his snowmobile, he collected the scat and started deeper into the forest.

  Snow pillowed bare branches. The sound of the sled’s engine hit the trees, then bounced back louder to his ears. The frigid air burned his lungs, but Kade pressed on. The roar of the motor gradually subsided to another growl. He rounded a boulder and saw two men cutting up fallen trees. Their chainsaws blatted and belched smoke.

  He cut his sled’s engine and dismounted. The closest man, bearded and swathed in red and black plaid, glanced up. The sound of his saw stopped. He jabbed the other man, whose stringy blond hair hung out from under a duck hunter’s hat. The sudden silence when the blond guy shut off his saw threw an eerie quality over the clearing.

  “Howdy,” the bearded man said. He eyed Kade’s park service patch.

  “You have a permit to cut here?” Kade asked. He knew the answer. Permits for firewood were only issued after April 1.

  The bearded guy tightened his grip on the chainsaw. “These trees are downed.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You need a permit to cut.”

  “Look, ranger, I got four kids at home and heat the place solely with firewood. I’m just a family man trying to do the best I can. Can’t you help me out?”

  Judging by the rusty pickup on the fire trail, Kade didn’t doubt him, but the law wasn’t his to change. “I have to cite you,” he said, pulling out his pad. “I’m sorry.”

  The men moved closer together. The blond guy clenched his fists, and the bearded man held out his hand and smiled. “I know you. You’re Kade Matthews. You’re the guy looking for cougars. If I tell you where to find a litter of kittens, will you let me off this time?”

  Kade’s senses went on full alert. “You’ve seen cougars?”

  The man’s expression turned crafty. “Maybe I have and maybe I haven’t.”

  The firewood was unimportant. “Load up whatever wood your truck will hold. Where did you see cougar kittens?”

  “We got your word?”

  “Yes. No citation. Tell me where you saw them. How many? What all did you see?”

  “You know Kitchigami Crag?”

  Kade nodded. “How’d you shimmy up there in the winter?” It would take a mountain goat to scale that trail. The howling wind scoured the path, only a foot wide in some of the worst spots.

  “I wore crampons and took an ice pick. I’ve done it plenty of times.”

  Kade studied his face. There was a valley on the other side of the crag where elk roamed. If the guy was poaching, Kade would bust him, information or not.

  “It’s not what you think. I climb for sport,” the guy protested. “I’m not a hunter.”

  Kade chose to believe him, though he wondered if the decision would come back to haunt him. “Go on.”

  “On the backside of the crag, there’s a small cave. A big boulder overhangs it and it’s hard to find. In this heavy snow, you may have trouble, but it’s there. That’s where I saw the kittens. Two days ago.”

  “How many?”

  “Four. Cute as all get-out with their blue eyes. I wanted to pick one up, but I figured mama would come flying out of nowhere so I skedaddled.”

  It would take Kade an hour to get up there. He’d be crazy to try it in this wind. He warned the men not to steal firewood again and headed home.

  The events of the past few days plus the baby’s soft noises from the bassinet kept Bree from sleeping. Kade snored, but Bree lay with her eyes wide and unblinking in the dark. She’d wanted Davy to sleep with them tonight, but Kade convinced her that Samson would protect the boy. Keeping to a regular routine was healthier for their son too.

  She’d checked on Davy before she turned out the lights, and her son had his arms around the dog. Samson was on his back with all four paws in the air.

  A creak came from the hall. Was someone in the house? She leaped from the bed and rushed to the door. Silence. Tiptoeing down the hall, she peeked into Davy’s room. Samson still lay sprawled and intertwined with her boy. The dog opened his eyes, looked at her, then closed them again. He would be ale
rt if there were any danger.

  She was overreacting. Again.

  The glint of moonlight on snow illuminated Davy’s room a bit. A picture of a much younger Davy with Rob was on the bed-stand. A glow highlighted Rob’s face, and Bree’s gaze skirted it. She stepped closer to the window and looked out. The moon gilded the snow and ice with crystals of light. It was beautiful yet terrible, and she was thankful to be inside where it was warm.

  Her gaze lingered on the window. It was unlocked. Unease rippled up her spine as she locked it. Not that anyone could get up here very easily without a ladder.

  She heard a noise behind her and turned to see Samson jump from the bed. He came to her side and nudged her hand so she would pet him. Spoiled thing. She started to rub his ears when she heard a low rumble from his throat. He put his front paws on the window and stared down into the yard.

  “What is it, boy?” she whispered, her back prickling. “What do you see?”

  His tail was wagging, yet he was growling as well, which was odd. Either he was alarmed or he wasn’t. She strained to see what or who was in the yard but all appeared calm.

  Samson dropped his paws from the window, then went to the door. He turned to see if she was coming, and when she moved toward him, he vanished on down the hall. His toenails clicked on the hardwood steps.

  Following Samson’s lead, she went down the stairs in bare feet. The house seemed to sleep as well. Nothing stirred on the first floor. She heard the clock on the mantel ticking, the thump of the furnace kicking on, but nothing that put her senses on red alert.

  Samson went to the back door and whined. Her hand touched the lock, and she realized the dead bolt wasn’t thrown, yet she’d locked it herself before coming to bed. Leaving the light off, Bree peered through the curtains and saw a movement. She gasped and stepped back, then forced herself to look again.

  Jenna. Relief coursed through her. What was she doing outside in the middle of the night? No wonder Samson was confused. He didn’t know the young woman well, but even he knew her foray into the night wasn’t normal.

  Bree flipped on the outside light and opened the door. “Jenna?”

  The woman whirled. Her coat was over her nightgown and her feet were in slippers. Her eyes went wide. “Bree, you scared me.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Bree squinted.

  “Ju-just getting some air.”

  Was that a figure in the shadow of the garage? Samson pressed his nose against the door as though he wanted to go out. Bree opened the door, and the dog dashed from the house. He stopped long enough to nose at Jenna’s feet, then moved toward the garage.

  Jenna caught his collar. “Let’s go back inside, boy. It’s cold out here.” She glanced behind her.

  “Who’s there?” Bree called.

  “Just me,” Jenna said, dragging Samson with her toward the door. The dog kept whining and struggling to get away. His tail was going fast enough to cool Bree’s cheeks. He must know the person.

  Bree peered toward the shadows. She could have sworn she saw a movement.

  Jenna pulled Samson inside with her. “We’re letting out all the heat.”

  Bree gave a final sharp look toward the garage but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She reluctantly stepped back. Samson managed to escape Jenna, and Bree grabbed him. “Oh no you don’t.” She shut the door before he could wiggle through.

  Ignoring his reproachful gaze, she turned him loose. “Go watch Davy.”

  With a last hurt glance, he left the room with his tail hanging low. She turned and studied Jenna’s face. The other woman was pale, and her gaze avoided Bree’s.

  “Are you okay?” Bree asked.

  “I’m fine. Just upset about my brother. I thought the air might clear my head. I need to figure out how to help Victor.”

  “Who was the guy by the garage?”

  Jenna’s eyes grew wide. “What guy?” Her voice trembled.

  “I know someone was out there. Samson was eager to go see whoever it was, and I saw his shadow.” She didn’t know how she knew the person had been a man, but she was confident.

  Pink crept into Jenna’s cheeks. She scuffed the toe of her slipper. “It’s a guy I’m seeing,” she admitted. “He heard about Victor’s arrest and wanted to make sure I was all right.”

  Bree wanted to believe her, but so many strange things had been happening. “You could have invited him in.”

  “We didn’t want to awaken anyone. Guess we did anyway, huh?”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.”

  Jenna must have heard the stress in Bree’s voice. Her gaze lingered on Bree’s face. “I guess you don’t ever get used to finding a dead body.”

  “No, you don’t. That poor woman was so young.” In her mind’s eye Bree saw Pia’s face. She’d been pretty, vibrant.

  “So is Victor. And his life is going to be ruined.” Jenna’s voice broke.

  Poor girl. Bree hugged her. “We love Victor. You know I’ll do whatever I can to help him.”

  Jenna’s hug was stiff as though she wasn’t used to being touched. “Thanks.” She stepped away.

  Bree stretched and yawned. The clock on the mantel read nearly eleven thirty. “We both need to get some sleep.”

  “Right.” Jenna headed toward the stairs.

  Bree followed until Jenna turned left to the room where Lauri usually stayed, then she peeked in on Davy. He was still asleep and Samson had settled down. She tiptoed back to her room. The baby was asleep too.

  Kade rolled over when she sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep.” She slipped under the covers and moved closer to Kade. He’d already turned his back to her. He gave off a welcome warmth, and she flung her arm around him and curled against him, spoon fashion. To his credit, he didn’t stiffen, but she could sense him waiting to see if she would say anything.

  “I’m sorry I overreacted last night, Kade.” There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? With the apology over, the last of her tension melted. She buried her face in his back and let his warmth ease the cramps from her legs.

  “You were right, babe. I should have called you.”

  Though his words were right, he still didn’t roll over and take her in his arms. A few moments later, she heard him begin to breathe slower and easier. He was asleep and he hadn’t even kissed her.

  9

  THE CABIN WAS AT THE END OF A LOGGING TRAIL THAT was impassable except by four-wheel drive. Wednesday afternoon, Quinn parked the big truck, a white one he’d rented while he left his black one parked. “Home sweet home,” he said to Jenna.

  She sat huddled in her fur coat. “Why’d you have to get such a remote place?” she asked. “This is totally in the boonies, Quinn.

  Why did you have to come all the way out here?”

  “I don’t want anyone seeing us together, especially now that you’ve gotten into the Matthews house and have access to the baby.” He climbed down from the truck and went to the cabin. She followed. He clicked the latch and stepped inside. The fire he’d built before leaving sputtered, but just barely, in the fireplace. The chill had begun to take over the room. He stepped to the hearth and threw some more logs on, poking them until they caught the blaze.

  Jenna shut the door and sat on the rocker. She grabbed a throw from the back of the chair and curled up under it. “It’s freezing in here!”

  “It will be warm soon.” He took off his coat and sat on the sofa. “What have you found out so far?”

  “Nothing much. Bree has the baby. She’s looking for the parents.”

  “What about Bree and her family?”

  She shrugged. “Typical small-town folks. She’s all wrapped up in her family. And the dog. He’s a pretty cool dog. He found the baby, did you know that?”

  He hadn’t heard that news, but he wasn’t surprised. “They have a kid, right? Davy?”

  “He doesn’t like to be called Davy. He likes Dave or David.” She yawned, th
en smiled. “Hey, you didn’t tell me Bree’s husband was such a hunk. He’s a really great guy. Strong, caring, a good dad. She’s lucky to have him.”

  Was that emotion welling in his throat jealousy? Surely not. He’d murdered too much of his own past to feel anything when confronted with it. He grunted and didn’t answer.

  “I really need to get a manicure,” she said, studying her nails. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Nothing for a few days.” Not until the baby’s father did what he was told. And Bree caring for the baby solved the problem of what to do with the infant until her parents complied with his demands. The bigger issue was Davy Matthews. The ranger was working on adopting Davy, and Quinn found himself resistant to the idea. While adoption made sense, Quinn decided he couldn’t let it happen.

  With Jenna on the inside, he’d grab both kids when the time was right.

  Kade and his boss rode snowmobiles off-trail through the forest. The snow buried fallen logs that would have blocked their passage through the trees. The men shut off their machines and dismounted near Kitchigami Crag. Kade put on snowshoes, then made his way along the base of the cliff, where he peered at the ground and into every nook and cranny.

  Landorf tromped up behind him. “See anything?”

  “Nope.” The wind had swept the area, and the only tracks he saw were those of a couple of rabbits. Then his gaze caught a red tinge on the snow. “What’s that?” He made his way toward the stand of sycamore trees, where he found the body of a rabbit. All that remained were fur and feet. A cougar? He studied the mussed up snow for a clear print.

  His boss joined him. “A cat?” His voice was eager.

  Kade caught sight of the footprints and tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Wolf.” Once upon a time, he would have been excited to find wolf prints here, but he now knew of several wolf packs roaming the area. In 1989, gray wolves had been verified to be living again in the UP. But a glimpse of a timber wolf was still a thrill.

  It was not the thrill he sought. His gaze scanned the area. “It’s a good habitat for cats though. The men might be right.”