15
When Sadie woke up, Jayden wasn’t in bed with her. Her chest tightened in panic as she sat up and looked around. How was it that she hadn’t felt him get up? Where had he gone? They were no longer in their little house with the small, fenced yard and Maude puttering about outside. They were on a large piece of land—especially from his perspective—and that piece of land had lots of places to get hurt or lost. It even had a pond.
The instant terror tempted her to call his name, but she held off in case Dawson was still sleeping. As late as they’d both gone to bed, he should be sleeping. The clock on the nightstand indicated it was only nine-thirty. That wasn’t too late, considering it had been almost five when Sly and Chief Thomas left. No wonder she hadn’t felt her son slip away. She’d been passed out from exhaustion.
Without so much as a thought for her tangled hair, she scrambled out of bed and hurried past Dawson’s room, pausing only long enough, once she saw his door standing open, to see that he wasn’t in there. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard Dawson talking in a low whisper. “You want more cereal?”
“More chocolate milk!” Jayden’s eager enthusiasm made his voice much louder.
“Shh!” Dawson said. “We’re trying to let Mom sleep, remember?”
Sadie reached the ground floor as Dawson poured her son more chocolate milk. “It’s okay. I’m up.”
“Look, Mommy! We have cold cereal!” Jayden cried.
“Where did we get that?” She was the one who’d bought the groceries so far, and she hadn’t purchased any processed cereal. Dawson had never mentioned that he wanted some, and she rarely let Jayden eat that kind of thing. The carton of chocolate milk Dawson put back on the table was new, too.
“We went to the store!” Jayden held up a sucker. “And I got this!”
“For later,” Dawson quickly inserted. “After lunch or dinner. We talked about that, remember?”
Jayden didn’t seem pleased about waiting, but he set the sucker reverently by his plate. “Yeah.”
A grin tugged at Dawson’s lips. “I wish everyone was so easy to please that a sucker would make all the difference,” he said in an aside to her. “My sister’s like that.”
“Children are so innocent. She sounds the same. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“She’s definitely innocent.” He gestured at the chair next to Jayden. “Want to sit down and have some cereal?”
Sadie almost said no. She doubted she could eat even if she tried. Her stomach hurt every time she thought about last night—the fire, whether or not she’d have anything left once the police allowed her to go back in, Sly’s behavior when he came out to the farm with Chief Thomas. Everything she’d tried to avoid with him seemed to be happening, despite her efforts. But Dawson had turned what could’ve been a confusing and sad morning into a happy one for Jayden, and she didn’t want to spoil her son’s fun. “Sure. I’ll have a bowl.”
Dawson slid the box and the milk over to her. “You okay?” he murmured while Jayden was busy pretending his spoon was a rocket ship blasting off from his bowl.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“You didn’t get much sleep.”
She covered a yawn. “Neither did you. And then you got up with my kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize he’d climbed out of bed.”
“I had those guys coming to clear away all the junk and take it to the dump this morning, so I had to get up early. I couldn’t miss them.”
“So that pile of stuff that was in the yard is gone?”
“It is.”
She crossed to the window to check. Sure enough, all the broken furniture and other things Dawson had thrown out were no longer cluttering up the place. Somehow that helped, was yet another thing from the past that’d been squared away. “Looks great. It’ll be nice to have it gone, but I’m sorry you didn’t get to sleep in, like I did.”
“They were so loud I’m surprised they didn’t wake you. Jayden certainly enjoyed watching the process.”
“I feel bad you got stuck babysitting for me.”
“I didn’t mind, so don’t worry about it. I hope it’s okay that I took him to the store. I would’ve asked, but I hated to wake you, and I didn’t dare leave him here alone while you were sleeping. I haven’t been around him much—haven’t been around kids in general—so I have no idea how far he might wander.”
“I appreciate you being cautious, especially with the pond out back. But wake me if something like this ever happens again. I don’t expect you to take care of my child.”
“I wouldn’t mind helping now and then.”
She took a bite of cereal but couldn’t even taste it. “I wonder what the police will find out about the fire,” she said when she’d swallowed.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much.”
She gripped her spoon that much tighter. “Why not?”
He glanced at Jayden, who was still making motor sounds with his mouth and pretending to send his spoon to “outer space.”
“If it was who we think it was, I’m sure he was careful not to leave a trail.”
She stirred her cereal around in the milk, trying to gain enough enthusiasm to take another bite. “He’s smart,” she agreed. “I doubt he would’ve done something like that unless he was sure he could get away with it.”
“Exactly. Then there’re the other factors—that he could possibly sway whoever investigates or tamper with the evidence. I wouldn’t set my sights on getting some resolution for fear you’ll only be disappointed. But we can hope that the fire was put out before you lost too much. What I heard last night made that sound like a real possibility.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how I’ll replace what has been lost, so I’m praying it wasn’t a lot.”
He seemed to notice that she wasn’t particularly interested in her food. “Try not to worry, okay? It won’t help.”
“Then we should stay busy. Are we going to work in the fields today?”
“With Jayden?”
“He’ll just play close by. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“No, you stay inside. Maybe you can both have a nap later. I’ll take care of the fields. But I’m not going to work until afternoon. Last night Gage Pond, the bartender at The Blue Suede Shoe, told me a vagrant matching the description of the hitchhiker I picked up a year ago was spotted the same night by a man building a bunker for Alex Hardy.”
“What man?”
“He didn’t get a name—or can’t remember it if he did. Do you know Alex?”
“I do. He comes into the restaurant all the time.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s about thirty-five. Shaves his head. Wears camouflage. Collects guns. Talks about buying junk silver and stocking up on ammo and food. Brags that he could survive on his property for a year even if the rest of civilization went to hell in a handbasket.”
“He married?”
“Divorced. His wife moved away last year, after they split, with both kids. He didn’t have a problem with it.” She’d been jealous that Hannah Hardy had so easily managed to leave Alex behind. She wished she had the same option.
“Do you think he’ll talk to me?”
“Might. He’s anti-government, which makes the police nervous. Sly talked about him every once in a while, said he was building up an arsenal and the department was watching him with a skeptical eye. The fact that there’s no love lost between them should be a good thing for you. At least you know he wouldn’t be likely to take their side over yours.”
“That’s good. I’d rather not get shot trying to approach his place,” he said with a humorless laugh.
“Why don’t I go with you? That should make the approach easier. I could introduce you, explain what’s going on. He’ll recognize me.”
“You think it would be safe to go along? And take Jayden?”
“I want to go!” Jayden said, even though he’d obviously just tuned in and didn’t know what they were talking about.
Sadie ruffled his hair while she answered. “Of course. Alex has never hurt anyone, not that I know of. And I’d like to feel as if I’m doing some good somewhere. Might take my mind off my own troubles.”
Dawson closed the cereal box before putting it in the cupboard. “Okay, then. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
Getting ready wouldn’t take her long. She had only one change of clothes—the T-shirt and sweats she’d washed last night—and no makeup or anything. Dawson had stopped and bought her a toothbrush at the 24-hour mini-mart, at least.
She helped her son down from the table and wiped his mouth and hands before dumping the rest of her cereal down the sink. As she put the bowl in the dishwasher, she noticed Dawson frowning at her.
“I hesitate to say this because I don’t want you to think I’m criticizing your appearance again. I feel bad that I ever did that. But you need to eat more—for the sake of your health.”
“My health is fine,” she said. “As for taking it the wrong way, it doesn’t matter how skinny I get. No one’s going to want me as long as I’ve got Sly dogging my every footstep.”
“I wouldn’t say no one,” he said. At least that was what Sadie thought she heard, but he spoke in a mutter, as if he wasn’t even really talking to her, and left the kitchen before she could ask him to repeat it.
* * *
The barbed wire fence surrounding Alex Hardy’s place had half a dozen Keep Out and No Trespassing signs posted along the road. Once he saw that, Dawson was glad he’d brought someone who knew the property owner. Given the anger that simmered just under his skin these days, it wouldn’t take much to get him in a fight. Sometimes he wished for a target, some way to vent his despair and frustration. And the person who owned this land looked like he’d be happy to interpret anything as a threat.
“Alex Hardy is coming off as seriously antisocial,” he grumbled as he eyed the cabin-like home beyond the safety of the fence.
“He’s not as unfriendly as you might think,” Sadie said. “He just likes to look tough.”
Dawson could feel her leg against his whenever she moved. They’d swung by her place to get Jayden’s safety seat out of her car, which had been necessary, but seeing the charred side of the house had been difficult for her. She’d barely spoken since. He’d pointed out that the other half of the house looked just fine, that there had to be some things left she could recover, but she hadn’t really responded. She’d just turned her back on the whole sad affair, put Jayden’s safety seat on the passenger side, because it required a shoulder strap, and climbed in next to him.
Fortunately, and sort of surprisingly, given all the signs, the gate to the driveway of Alex Hardy’s place stood open. Dawson pulled in behind a red truck that sported several NRA bumper stickers and one that depicted a woman with bare breasts. “Should we leave Jayden in the truck, just in case?” he asked. “After all the press about me, once this guy recognizes who I am, there’ll be no telling how he might react.”
“He’s not going to do anything.” She unstrapped her son, and they all walked to the front stoop together.
They didn’t have a chance to ring the bell. The door swung wide before they could even reach it.
“Wow. Alex. That was fast,” Sadie said. “Don’t tell me you have motion sensors on the property these days.”
A burly man with a long Duck Dynasty beard and a rifle tattooed on his arm looked out at them. “Not yet. Might get some, though. That’d be cool. I saw you from the window. Who’s this?” He gestured at Dawson.
Sadie started to reply, but Alex cut her off before she could.
“Wait! I recognize you! Saw you on TV. You’re that dude who killed his parents a year or so ago.”
Dawson felt his muscles bunch. No matter how many times he suffered that accusation, it never got any easier. “They were killed, but I didn’t do it,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Alex ignored his response and focused on Sadie. “Since when did you become friends with him?”
“We’re not friends, exactly. Well, we are friends. But we’re more employer/employee.”
“You work for him? What about the restaurant? I just saw you there a few days ago.”
“I’ve still got another week at Lolita’s, but it wasn’t paying me enough, so I had to look elsewhere,” she said. “Dawson has hired me as a caregiver for his sister.”
“Whoa! You’re quitting Lolita’s and working for the Reeds’ son even though we don’t really know... I mean, what does Sly have to say about that?”
“It’s none of Sly’s business.”
“Since when did that ever stop him from getting involved?” he said with a laugh.
“You have a point,” she replied. “He thinks he can weigh in on everything. That he owns this town, owns me. But I’ll deal with it.” She stopped Jayden from trying to slip inside the house to pet the cat that sat watching them with its black tail twitching from side to side. “Listen, Alex. Gage, down at The Blue Suede Shoe, mentioned that someone who put in a bunker for you saw a homeless man fitting the description of the hitchhiker Dawson picked up the night his parents were murdered. Do you remember anything about that?”
“He was from Santa Barbara,” Dawson added, hoping to jog his memory.
“We need to reach him,” Sadie continued, “to see if he can tell us any more about that vagrant—if he talked to him, what his name was, where he was from, where he was heading, if he had any tattoos or other distinguishing characteristics. You know, anything that might help us find him.”
“Really?” Alex said.
Dawson was taken aback by his response. “Really. Why? What do you mean?”
He tugged on his beard as he talked. “You’re looking for a needle in a haystack, man. I don’t even remember the name of the guy who built my bunker. And even if you end up tracking him down, what’re the chances he’s going to remember anything about a bum he saw a year ago?”
“I admit the chances aren’t good,” Dawson said. “But I have to start somewhere, and it’s all I have. I’ll worry about the rest once I get that far. So do you have a receipt or work order or anything else he might’ve signed?” Dawson asked.
“Sorry. Don’t keep crap like that. But the company was called Safety First. I remember because there aren’t a hell of a lot of companies in this area that build bunkers, you hear what I’m saying? Maybe they can tell you the name of the dude they sent out. If you’re real lucky, it might even be that he still works there.”
“We’ll see what we can find.” Dawson lifted Jayden into his arms so that Sadie wouldn’t have to keep him from trying to approach the cat and started back toward the truck.
“Thanks, Alex,” he heard her say.
Although Alex lowered his voice, Dawson could still make out his words. “I know Sly was no picnic, Sadie. I’ve had a couple of run-ins with him myself. But are you sure you haven’t jumped from the frying pan into the fire by moving on to this guy?”
“We’re not together, Alex. I just work for him,” she reiterated.
“Seems to me like you’re pretty set on helping him.”
Even Dawson could hear the skepticism in Alex’s voice.
“Because Dawson hasn’t killed anyone,” she said, her tone turning defensive. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Then I hope Sly doesn’t kill him.”
As angry as Dawson was, at the police, at Sly, at the vagrant who murdered his parents—at the whole world right now—he almost wished Sly would come after him. He craved the opportunity to put Sly Harris down in any kind of meaningful way. Sly deserved it.
Except he knew Sadie’s ex wasn’t the type who would ever fight fair.