Chapter 17
SIERRA WAS JUST too tired to call Connie. She wasn’t about to explain all this over the phone. But she saw his texts and he’d added another one with a picture of him with Molly. She finally wrote back, I miss you guys, too. Sorry, I’m exhausted and hungry. Tomorrow will be better.
He must have been sitting on the phone. He texted back instantly. If you needed me, I would come.
The sweetest man alive, she thought. She didn’t think she deserved him. She texted back, I’m okay. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Thank you for being so wonderful.
They went out for dinner in the hotel, then to bed. She slept incredibly well for someone who had just surmised that the only way this monster would go to jail was if she faced him and accused him. And she was sure she wouldn’t be able to.
But God was watching out for her. She didn’t even dream.
The next morning they picked up a copy of her medical records. Cal called Charles—Sergeant Tilden—who had interviewed them and arranged to have the mug shot of Craig Dixon emailed to him. Then they headed for the airport. Cal changed their flight, but they weren’t going right home. They flew to Des Moines and rented a car, making the two-hour drive to the little farming village where Marissa and Jed Jones lived. Given their parents were overly sensitive to drop-in guests, even their own children, Cal called and told his mother that he and Sierra were passing through and wanted to stop by and say hello in the morning.
“Say hello?” Sierra asked with a laugh. “Is that what we’re doing?”
“We’ll say hello, ask if they need anything, ask Marissa if the man whose picture I have on my cell phone was the one who came to the farm looking for you.”
“You think she’ll even remember? It was over a year ago!”
“I’d be satisfied with her best guess.”
Sierra held her breath. She didn’t even want to see the farm. It was the farm where she hid for three months prior to rehab; it was the farm where she had started to fear she was crazy like her father. She didn’t want to know if the bad man had followed her there.
“I’m not for certain,” Marissa said. “But I think that’s him. He was wearing such nice clothes and he said he worked for a special department of some kind. I wish I could remember. But it didn’t matter because I just said you hadn’t been around in a long time, you were in Michigan. Or you could have gone off to California.” Then she smiled with satisfaction. “And look, I was right. Wasn’t I.”
On their way back to Des Moines, they were both completely silent.
“She might be mistaken,” Cal finally said after a very long silence.
“She’s not mistaken,” Sierra said. “He followed me. I bet he did have some kind of tracker in my phone.”
“Well, the phone is gone,” Cal said. “How long after he visited the farm did you check into rehab?”
She laughed, an almost hysterical sound. “Twenty minutes,” she said. “Okay, not quite that fast, but fast.”
“And they took all your personal items, including your phone, and turned it off and locked it away.”
“Yes, and when I asked my group leader if it was possible there was an app in my phone, he said he’d take care of it. He had the phone wiped, got a new number for me, and I was able to use it again after three weeks. But I had to check it out before I could have it. I couldn’t just have it in my possession. If you can believe it, there were people making drug buys from inside, if they could.”
“I believe it.”
“I got rid of the phone anyway,” she said. “I couldn’t chance it.”
They got into Denver at seven o’clock and instead of driving home, they stopped at Maggie’s house, now a very stylish crash pad for those nights she spent in Denver so she could work. It was then that Sierra finally caught up with Connie. “We’re in Denver, staying overnight so Cal can sleep with his wife and unborn baby, but she has surgery early in the morning so we’ll be up and on our way.”
“I have to work but I’ll try to sneak away just to see you,” he said. “Then on the weekend, I’m all yours. Or maybe you’re all mine.”
“Is Molly okay?”
“I think she misses you,” he said. “She keeps looking out the living room window. I’ll be taking her to Sully in the morning before work so she’ll be waiting for you.”
“I can’t wait to see her. Has she been a good girl?”
“She found herself an elk cow and calf. All survived...”
“I’m looking forward to a quiet weekend.”
“I just hope that whatever was upsetting you is past,” he said.
“What if it’s not? What if it’s never past?”
“Then I’ll comfort you as much as I can,” he said.
Sierra had no doubt where Connie was concerned. Of course he would be supportive and comforting; of course he was brave and loyal and wouldn’t falter. But what if it turned out to be more than he signed on for? What if she one day saw regret in his eyes?
* * *
“This is as much time as I’ve spent with you since I was a little kid,” Sierra told Cal when they got back to the Crossing.
“I was thrilled by every second of it,” he said. “And I hope we don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”
“Ditto,” she said.
Her reunion with Molly and Sully was perfect; Molly attacked her with excitement and Sully showed one of his rare, toothy smiles. Cal dropped her and took off, eager to get back to building. She suspected he needed the work to clear his head. She had a cup of coffee with Sully on the porch.
“Get everything taken care of?” he asked.
“As much as possible,” she said. “It’s complicated. Let me just say there are still a few messes from the past that have to be attended to.”
“Girl, not a person alive who doesn’t have messes from the past that could use cleaning up.”
“This one is pretty awful.”
“I meant awful messes,” Sully said. “Might be time you figured something out. Your life hasn’t always been a bowl of Froot Loops, but you’re smart and strong. And I don’t know a single person who gets through this with nothing but giggles. Frank went to war three times, then he got cancer. Twice. He sent a son to war and buried him. And at my age you start to realize someone like Frank isn’t a rare thing. It’s par for the course. It turns out the mark of a happy life isn’t staying just one step ahead of the grim reaper. It’s knowing you’re strong.”
“Is that your best advice?” she asked.
“Nope. My best advice is this—by the time you meet your Maker, and may it be a long, long time from now, I hope you can close your eyes on a life where you did your damn best and tried your damn hardest. It’s not winning that’s really winning. It’s never giving up.”
“Your life hasn’t been easy, I know,” she said.
“Much of it my own making,” he said. “But there were a few times I was flawless and I ran into some rotten luck anyway. If there’s any way I can help you with anything, you’ll let me know.”
But he never asked what it was.
She talked to Connie twice but he was so busy at the firehouse, she didn’t see him. He wasn’t working the weekend and she made plans to go to his house after lunch, after helping Sully a little bit in the garden. She told Connie to get a little rest; the firehouse had been hectic.
When she got to his house she found him waiting, freshly showered and shaved. Molly ran around in circles and then to her water dish but Connie pulled Sierra into his arms.
“It was so hard being away from you,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m going to suffocate you, be too possessive, scare you away.”
“Oh, Connie,” she said. “I have so many secrets.”
He put her back on her feet. “You want to talk?”
“I do. I have to talk.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sierra. You know it’s okay to talk to me. Nothing will chase me away. I love you.”
She thought her heart might explode. “You were going to let me say it first.”
“I couldn’t wait,” he said.
“You might run for your life,” she warned him.
“Sierra, listen to yourself sell me short. I go into burning buildings for a living. I dangle over sheer cliffs to help people. And that’s the half of what I do. What’ve you got to compete with that?”
“I was raped,” she said.
He actually jumped in surprise. He grabbed her upper arms. “Recently?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“About a year and a half ago.”
“They catch the guy? Lock him up?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Okay,” he said, a little out of breath. “Sit down. Tell me everything. I mean, tell me what you want to tell me. Just please tell me. How can I be there for you if I don’t know what’s going on?”
It took her longer to tell him all about the day with the police than it did about the actual assault, but she didn’t leave anything out. At least not intentionally. It was a lot of conversation, a lot of questions. Connie got up from the living room chair to get them bottled water from the refrigerator. He leaned his elbows on his knees, hands clasped to keep control. He scowled and even growled at times.
“You thought you saw him?” he asked.
“Several times but I was never sure. I thought he was a nightmare mirage,” she said. “I thought I saw him in Iowa and I actually chased him down and grabbed his arm. It was like temporary insanity—I had to know. It wasn’t him. Up close it didn’t look anything like him. A bunch of times I thought I spotted him and held my breath, but when he turned I realized the guy didn’t look that much like him.”
“Every time?” he wanted to know.
“I’m pretty sure the man I saw in Colorado Springs really was him. And I think the man who went to my parents’ farm was him. Connie, I think he’s around. I think he found out where I am. Maybe not exactly where, but approximately. The police told me to be very observant and very cautious.”
“I don’t know very much about rape victims and what they go through,” he said. “We made love. If there was anything wrong about that, I couldn’t tell. If you don’t like the way I touch you or hold you or—”
She shook her head. “You were the first since and it was nice. It was epic,” she added with a smile. “The rape counselor said I’d know when I was ready. For a while right after it happened, when I ran to the farm, I was a mess. I couldn’t sleep or eat. I slept with my shoes on! Couldn’t leave the house after dark and even at the house, I’d have these major anxiety attacks. When I did go out in daylight, like to drive to work, it was the country. I could see for miles. I could see no one was following me. Then I went into treatment and they got me set up in some counseling groups. I stayed in one after I was out of rehab, living in a kind of halfway house. I got stronger, very slowly. I even took some self-defense but probably not enough. But I have PTSD, there’s no question about it. I can’t park in a garage again. I can’t even go to the car wash. I can’t even think about going to the movies—there could be someone behind me in the dark. But I can walk on the trails behind the Crossing. In daylight. And I like it inside my little cabin, but I admit, before Molly came along I used to stack things in front of the door. I get freaked out at the weirdest times. I like to get up before the sun’s up and have coffee with Sully but that walk from my cabin to the store...it’s a very long walk. I usually jog.”
“Oh baby,” he said, stroking her arm. “They need to find him, lock him up...”
“You think that’ll take care of everything? I’m sure there are other psychopaths out there. I’m going to be afraid forever.” She swallowed. “I want to be free of him. He took away my tears. I can’t cry anymore. I haven’t truly cried since...”
“Come here, Sierra,” he said, pulling on her hand. She let herself be drawn onto his lap. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “But will you let me take care of you a little bit?”
“What can you do?”
“I can’t take the fear away but I’ll do anything you ask.” He pushed her hair back and kissed her neck. “Anything.”
“I wanted to tell you,” she said. “I always intended to. If all this is too much of a load for you, let’s decide now.”
“It’s not,” he said.
“I’m pretty screwed up,” she said.
“That’s the thing—you’re not. I know people who haven’t been through half of what you have who are wrecks. You’re so strong.”
“Stubborn,” she said. “That bastard is not going to get any more of my head.”
“You didn’t tell the police when it happened,” he said.
“I didn’t then, no. I wonder if I was in shock. I went to the doctor, I ran away, I stayed petrified until...until rehab. I went into rehab because he couldn’t find me there. That’s the only reason I went—I fully intended to ride it out for a month while I thought of how I’d press on. I had no intention of giving up alcohol. I had no intention of changing my life. It all started because I was so afraid of him.”
“They’re going to find him,” he said.
“They’re going to want me to testify against him and I’ve been saying for a year and a half that I won’t. That I can’t. But I don’t think I’ll ever be free until I face it head-on,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll get through it, but I think I have to try.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said. “A lot of people will be right there. You have a lot of fans.”
“Oh, Connie, I’m such a load...”
“Don’t worry about me. I have pretty broad shoulders.”
“I missed you so much,” she said. “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” he said. “You didn’t even have to tell me.”
“How could you know?”
“Oh, I must be psychic,” he said with a smile. “Or maybe you treat everyone like you treat me?”
“I might give you some priority,” she said. “Because you’re good to my dog.”
“I’m going to get you some pepper spray,” he said. “And one of those alarm buttons they advertise on late-night TV. It’s loud enough to bring down buildings.”
“I have pepper spray. But I’d really like one of those alarm buttons.”
“See? We make a good team. We’ll be okay.”
* * *
For a few days Sierra was tense and worried; her visit with the police brought the whole event to the surface again, made her feel like a victim again. She called Sergeant Tilden of the sexual assault unit four times and each time she got a little more information. The latest news was that, because the suspect was in the wind and they had excellent probable cause to arrest him and prosecute him, they were getting a little help from the FBI. Colorado’s state police were also notified. “Should I be calling the FBI for information?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m still your point man. Call me anytime.”
She began to calm down. And she had a pair of strong arms around her. Connie brought her comfort and solace.
Connie was also on a mission. He took her rock climbing a couple of times, which she found exhilarating. He took her to a gym in Denver where there was a self-defense instructor to give her a refresher on some of the moves she’d learned over a year ago. He also introduced her to a couple of new techniques.
“Why are we doing all this?” she asked.
“Because, Sierra, you need to bolster your confidence. That’s half the battle.”
He supplied the alarm button she could attach to her key chain. They took it out in the country to test it and it was deafening. It also alerted his cell phone with her location.
A couple of weeks had passed since she’d been to Michigan when she told Sully about her situation. The hardest part was seeing this tough, cynical old guy shaken by the information. Later that same day he presented her with a bat. “I thought we could use two bats on the job.”
“Did you go buy this for me?” she asked.
“I did,” he said. “Sleep with it under your bed. Put it in the backseat of your car when you’re out.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Please, don’t be upset. I’m working through it.”
“Of course you are,” he said. “Don’t aim at his head. If he’s got reflexes worth a damn, he’ll stop it with his hands. Aim at his knees. Be crafty—make it look like you’re trying to hit him in the head, then swing lower. Fast. You have to be fast.”
She smiled at him.
“Practice,” he said. “And on those nights you’re not with Connie, would you oblige an old man by staying in my house? Just until we can safely put the matter of that bastard’s whereabouts behind us?”
“I can,” she said. As much as she longed to establish her independence, now might not be the wisest time to push something like that.
Sierra, with Sully, Connie and Cal all looking out for her, felt a growing sense of confidence. Not enough to relax but enough so that not quite fifty of every sixty seconds was dedicated to the tension and fear of feeling hunted. Then even that began to give way.
The month of August was busy in every possible way. She was picking up time in the diner as some of the high school waitresses were looking for more afternoons to accommodate their school schedule and there was heavy tourist traffic in the campground, in the town, on the lake, on the trails and roads. The campground was teeming with people and the store was busy; Sully was grateful for Sierra’s help and Sierra was glad to be distracted by the activity. She felt a little safer, never being alone. The last days of summer would peak with Labor Day weekend and after that, life would be quieter.
“Except for the rut season,” Sully said. “You’ll hear a lot of bugling among the bulls, a few fights over especially attractive cows. Rut season peaks around the end of September. We’ll be seeing some hunters—bow season first, starting in September. And then come the rifle hunters. Around here, mostly bow. At least it’s quieter. And along with the archery season, the leaf peepers show up.”
Sierra looked forward to observing some of that, at a safe distance.
The last weeks of summer brought other changes to the little town. For one thing, Connie was so present around Sierra, so affectionate and tender, there was no longer any question as to the disposition of their relationship. He either held her hand or had an arm around her shoulders. She was just leaving the diner when he was returning to the firehouse and he gave her a brief kiss. Across the street Alyssa was standing on the sidewalk in front of the beauty shop and saw them. Her mouth fell open. She whirled and fled back into the shop.
“Oops,” Sierra said. “I guess she wasn’t expecting that.”
“I told her I was seeing someone,” he said with a shrug.
“I don’t think she believed you,” Sierra said. “You didn’t tell her it was me? Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to discuss my love life with her. I don’t owe her any explanations.”
“I heard her mother passed away last week,” Sierra said. “Was there a funeral or celebration of life of some kind?”
“A funeral. Alyssa left a message for me at the firehouse. I sent a bouquet and made a donation to cancer research but I didn’t go.”
“I hope you didn’t skip it because of me,” she said. “I wouldn’t have questioned that.”
“No, babe, not because of you. Because of me. I’m not mad at Alyssa anymore but I don’t want to be any closer than we are right now. And I thought what mattered was visiting Rachel when she was alive. I’m glad I did that. The only thing left was to pay my respects to the family when she passed. I did that, too.”
There were other things going on in and around Timberlake. That small shop of Daisy’s was changing owners in a few months and there was talk of it becoming a commercial marijuana dispensary. A pot store. The local business owners were gossiping about it a lot. Some were up in arms; they worried about drawing a lot of heavy drug users to the town. Others were thrilled to have a moneymaking venture on the main street. No one seemed to know who was buying the store.
Sierra suspected Neely but said nothing. And she had not heard from her.
Labor Day weekend was a madhouse of campers, hikers, boaters. The camps across the lake were filled with people, as well. Sully said they would continue to do a decent business through September but not seven days a week and not in numbers like the holiday weekend.
The leaves had barely started to turn and wouldn’t come into their full glory for another month. The air was taking on a crispness and Sully’s fall melons and pumpkins were just about ready. The long-distance hikers had come and gone because the higher elevations of the Continental Divide Trail were starting to get cold and there would be snow on the mountains before October.
The camps across the lake would close in November for winter. Sully stayed open but they would only see a few RVs and occasionally rent the cabins. He said it was extremely rare to see any tents. Cross-country skiers and ice sailing skaters would be evident with the snowfall and freezing of the lake but maintenance on the grounds would be greatly reduced. That caused Sierra to think she probably should scout around for a real job, something full-time with benefits, something with potential.
In early September an RV towing a Jeep came into the park. The RV was outdated and the black Jeep, new. Checking in for a week were Clyde and Priscilla Snowdon, originally from England. He was a professor of history from the Midwest and she was a high school drama teacher who loved photography. Priscilla hoped to get in some hiking and photographs of early fall in the mountains. They had taken a semester off to do some traveling, and with the RV they could stay in each place they visited for a week or more, really get to know their adopted country. Two days later, a couple of archery hunters arrived with a toy hauler that carried a couple of ATVs, perfect for getting around the back roads. Pete and Lucas from Phoenix. And then the next day, being Friday, the camp began to welcome some new weekenders.
For the next several days, Sierra noticed their British campers and archery hunters making the most of the area—the ATVs on the back roads, walking along trails, in town, checking out the shops and the local tavern.
The following week Cal called Sierra and asked if she could come to the barn, he had something to talk to her about. When she told him Connie was at the Crossing, Cal said, “Bring him. I want to talk to him, too.”
When they got to Cal and Maggie’s it appeared they were ready to lay carpet and the interior of the barn was looking fantastic. There was a large roll of foam padding and a larger roll of carpet.
“You’re almost finished!” she said excitedly.
“Very close with some detail work left that I’ll probably keep seeing for months, but once the carpet is in the new living room and dining room, furniture and the bar stools can be delivered. I have a couple of walls to paint and paper to hang in the nursery. Maggie!” he called.
She popped out on the landing at the top of the stairs. “Hi,” she said. “Want to see the master and the nursery?”
“Sure,” Sierra said. “You’re sleeping upstairs now?”
“Wait a minute, I wanted to talk to you about something, then you can have the grand tour. Dakota called. He’s deploying again—in two weeks.”
“How long has he known?” Sierra asked. “I mean, it doesn’t surprise me, but he could’ve given us some notice.”
“I take it it’s very short notice. Maggie’s headed to Denver on Wednesday morning, home Friday late afternoon so I’m going to pack a bag and shoot down to Fort Hood to see him before he goes. I’m going to make it a real quick trip—I want to be back here when Maggie gets back. If she weren’t working this week, I wouldn’t be leaving but she’ll be in Denver with her obstetrician. No safer place for Maggie these days.”
“My last week until after the baby,” she said, giving her big belly an affectionate rub. “I’d work up till the end but my OB doesn’t like that idea. I think it’s as much the two-hour drive as the working that’s bugging her. But—Jaycee is a mother herself and she said I’ll thank her someday for insisting I take a month before the baby comes to rest and get ready. So, I’ll have a month before my due date. Any more than that and I might go stir-crazy.”
“Do you want to go with me to Texas?” Cal asked Sierra.
“I’d kind of like to, but it’s too short notice for me. I’m scheduled to work. I know it’s not much of a job but someone has to do it. And Sully has hunters and leaf peepers around—I should spend time there.”
Cal looked at Connie. “I probably don’t have to ask but will you look out for her?”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “You don’t have to ask. I’m working one twenty-four-hour shift this week and Sierra promises to sleep in Sully’s house while I’m not around. They both have baseball bats now, you know.”
“I heard,” Cal said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Just a couple of days.”
“Be sure to ask him how is best to communicate,” Sierra said. “I’ll write or Skype him every day while he’s deployed. Ask him if he knows how long this deployment is. And tell him I’m sorry—a good sister would go see him.”
“Don’t kick yourself,” Cal said. “Chances are he told me so late so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with coming out here before he leaves. Or, God forbid, Iowa.”
“He won’t see them, then?”
“I don’t think he’s seen Jed and Marissa in a few years. I’ll be back on Friday. I think Tom and Jackson are going to try to get the rest of the carpet in while I’m gone.”
Sierra let Maggie lead her around the upstairs—they’d moved into the master bedroom and the baby’s room was right next door. Maggie had a big box of letters and pictures for the walls, plus a crib yet to be assembled. There was a dresser-changing table and the closet was outfitted with shelves. And there was an adorable wooden pink rocking horse. “I couldn’t resist,” she said.
“It’s really happening,” Sierra said. “We’re having a baby.”
“We sure are,” Maggie said.
Quite beyond her deliberate control, Sierra took such comfort in these small things—a new niece making ready for an appearance, a brother and sister-in-law who were thrilled she was near and always looking out for her, a strong boyfriend and a welcoming and bucolic setting in which to live. The end of summer brought later sunrises so she was having her morning coffee with Sully on the porch, in the dark. The approach of dawn brought out those campers who thrived on the early, early morning—the photographers and the hunters—who brought their coffee to the porch before 6:00 a.m. for a visit. They were friendly, outgoing folks, typical of campers she’d gotten to know over the summer months. Private, standoffish people didn’t seem to frequent campgrounds like the Crossing.
Life really did seem so mild, safe and carefree. Sierra nearly forgot there was anything to worry about, any unknown threat of any kind looming in the back of her mind.
Until she was driving to work early Thursday morning.