Master of the Abyss Page 19

  * * *

  As she pulled on her clothes across the clearing, she heard the scuffle of boots in the dirt and saw the darkness of Jake’s form against the lighter tent. He didn’t call for her, didn’t look for her. He simply left. As the sound of his footsteps faded, she blinked hard, forcing back hot tears. Damned if she’d act as if he meant something to her. Even if he did. Had.

  Unable to stay in camp, she walked through the gray light to a high lookout point. As she dropped down to sit on the granite rock, the sun glowed behind the eastern mountains, turning the peaks pink with an outline of gold as if a child had run a yellow marker across the top.

  Sunrise. Her favorite time, filled with anticipation of the coming day. Light winning out over darkness. New beginnings.

  Dawn wasn’t supposed to be for endings.

  In the valley below, thick fog submerged the tall trees in an ugly gray. The way she felt right now, she might as well be down there, smothered in darkness. Hands clenched, she shoved the hurt deep inside her and smothered it in her own way, pulling imaginary tendrils of fog over it until the pain dulled. She knew how to handle loss. Damn right I do.

  Wrapping her arms around her legs, she set her chin on her knees and watched the sky brighten and the day begin.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan had shown a hell of a lot more understanding yesterday, Jake thought as he slapped a container of worms, a six-pack of beer, ice, and sandwich fixings onto the grocery counter.

  Whipple rang them up. “Fishing?”

  “For a few days.” Jake pulled out a couple of twenties.

  “Is Kallie going along?”

  The unexpected sound of her name hit him like an icy blade, stabbing upward from his gut into his chest. “No.”

  His face must have shown something, for a spiteful smile warped Whipple’s face. “She figured you out, didn’t she? Dumped you on your ass.”

  Not waiting for his change, Jake walked out. After putting the ice and beer into his cooler, he got in his truck and pulled away from the curb. In the doorway of the grocery, Whipple watched, still smiling.

  A few hours later, Jake shoved open the door to their small fishing cabin. He and Logan had bought the place when Jeremy Ackers had a stroke and his family had forced him to sell. They rented it out now and then, and when not occupied, the lonely spot on the river was a great place to escape.

  The small, single room looked dusty but clean. Jake set the cooler on the floor, tossed his sleeping bag onto one of the cheap cots and his duffel on the couch. With his rod and tackle box, he headed out the back door, down the tilted stone steps, and out onto the small floating dock. A few minutes later, he made a good cast and settled into a wooden chair white with age.

  As if his ass planted on the creaky dock sent a signal to his brain, his anger eased and his jaw loosened. His chest still felt hollowed out. Probably nothing would change that except time. He’d felt like this when Mimi died. This might be worse.

  Less guilt. More pain—a lot more pain.

  Sunlight glinted off the treacherous center of the river, where the slow-moving surface concealed the fast current. The alder and maple trees along the bank whispered with a different sound than the tall mountain evergreens. Shallower. Perfect for a bastard who had caused a woman to die.

  “She took the easy way out.” Kallie had been blunt, even brutal.

  Jake turned the words over in his head.

  And then his thoughts wandered down more familiar trails, the arguments he’d had with himself over and over. Could he have done something differently? Perhaps sucked it up and stayed with Mimi?

  He shook his head. No. Their relationship had been falling apart already, the distance between them growing as she’d increased her dependence on him and he’d wanted less. He’d made the breakup as gentle as he could. Even before that, she’d known their time together had reached the end; she had said as much.

  And he hadn’t left her. He’d stayed with her, held her, mourned with her over the lost hopes for a life together. She’d looked forward to San Francisco—he could have sworn it. Dammit, how could he, her dom, her lover, have misread her intentions and emotions so completely?

  For months afterward, he’d reexamined every tiny nuance of her words, her expressions, her body language in the days prior to her death. He couldn’t—still couldn’t—see any signs that she’d felt such despair.

  He forced himself to take a long breath, reeled the line in, and cast again. If he could go back and change things… If she’d never met him—if he hadn’t found her staring helplessly at a flat tire one day. If she hadn’t just broken up with Whipple… Jake sighed and rubbed his cheek, felt the stubble of a day’s growth, and couldn’t seem to care. If she’d never met him, she’d probably have met someone, married him, had children, might have lived happily ever after. She’d be alive, not dead.

  The guilt of that…

  He’d never have willingly hurt her. And now he’d hurt Kallie too.

  He reeled in the line. A fish had nibbled off the worm. After rebaiting the hook, he cast again.

  Kallie. Honest. Blunt. He snorted. Definitely blunt. “Are you planning to spend your whole life alone, or are there a certain number of years you have to go before you’ve served your sentence?” Did he want to live his life alone?

  Silence surrounded him, broken only by the rippling river and the distant cry of a hawk. He could live his life in this kind of silence…but he wanted more than that. He’d always assumed he’d have what his parents had: love, sharing, laughter, and children.

  How many years before he’d served his sentence? He lay the rod down, anchored it with his foot, and scrubbed his face with his hands. A clear-sighted woman, that Kallie. He’d done exactly that, deprived himself of any relationship. If Mimi can’t have love, then I can’t either.

  That was just… Had he really believed that?

  Yep.

  The sprite had also called him a pussy. He grinned for a second. Got in a lot of blows, hadn’t she? And the term fit. The pain of loss—yeah, a man would avoid that if possible, but Jake could handle loss, although the thought of never holding Kallie again squeezed his chest like a giant’s fist.

  The guilt he’d felt had been the sticker.

  Had been. He frowned. Past tense. The blackness was still there, true, but subdued. Manageable. The pain would never leave him completely, he knew, for somehow, someway, he’d missed seeing Mimi’s intentions. He’d have tried to stop her if he’d known. But he hadn’t.

  He was human. He’d screwed up. He undoubtedly would again.

  A small flame of anger flared inside him. Couldn’t Mimi have given him a chance to make things right for her? She shouldn’t have just…quit, no matter how much she had hurt.

  Could you even know—trust—another person to stay alive, to weather life’s difficulties? He considered his brother, Becca. Kallie. No, they wouldn’t take the easy way out. Fighters, all of them.

  Pussy. He hadn’t thought of himself as being gutless, yet a person could find more than one way to step back from life. Refusing to live it—to participate, to love—was as craven as taking it. Why hadn’t he seen that he’d been a coward?

  He looked up toward the wide bowl of sky where heaven was located; his great-grandmother had told him that, and she was never wrong. “Okay, Mimi,” he murmured, his gaze going past the few clouds and on farther, to the unknowable. “You’ve gone on ahead. I can’t fix what happened, and it’s time for me to go back to living.” His throat tightened. “We weren’t meant to be, but I did love you, sweetheart, and I hope you’ll give me your blessing from wherever you are now.”

  His eyes burned, and he swallowed painfully. Okay. That was done.

  He took a deep breath and another. On the far bank, a deer and her spotted fawn ventured down to the water, and he remembered how he’d always thought of Mimi as a young deer. He watched as they drank, ears swiveling to catch any sound, then bounded back into the forest.

&
nbsp; Jake shifted his weight and frowned. He had a notoriously bad-tempered sprite to confront. What would he tell her?

  As the river flowed past him, heading inexorably toward the sea, he pondered. He wanted her. In his bed. In his life? No. You being a pussy again, Hunt? Face it, he cared for her. Cared too much—for a cowardly pussy—but facts were facts. The thought of losing her had driven him to take a long look at his actions.

  Pussy. He snorted a laugh.

  And now he’d have to go back, manage to keep her from belting him, and talk about their relationship—and they damn well did have a relationship. He rubbed his chin. Charging into battle might be less dangerous than facing Kallie in a rage. But somehow he’d simply get her to stand still long enough for him to explain.

  Dream on, Hunt.

  * * *

  If the Lowery family noticed Kallie talked less today, they didn’t say anything. She had tried to keep them too busy to talk: a mountain lake, a ridge overlooking the basin, a talus slope filled with whistling marmots. That afternoon, she returned them to Serenity Lodge, where they’d stay for another night.

  After unpacking their personal gear from Coco, she helped carry it into the lodge. As she set down the packs, she noticed a man talking to someone in the kitchen. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark brown hair. Kallie’s heart lifted far enough to clog her throat and started to pound.

  “Jake!” Tamara tore across the room. “Why did you leave so early? I wanted to—” The man turned, and the little girl skidded to a halt on the wood floor.

  Logan, not Jake. He smiled down at the child. “Sorry, kitten, Jake is out of town for a while.”

  “Oh.” Tamara backed up. Logan lacked Jake’s easy manner, his sheer enjoyment of people, and the girl undoubtedly sensed that. Pouting, she trudged back to Kallie.

  Yeah, that’s how I feel too. Kallie gave the munchkin a hug and then looked up. Arms across his chest, Logan leaned against the door frame, studying them—studying her. She turned her back on him. Casually. Nothing to see here, dude.

  She exchanged good-byes and hugs with the Lowerys. When Ryan started to awkwardly shake her hand, she pulled him in for a hug. “I had fun cooking with you,” she whispered. “Coco is going to miss you.”

  His grin eased her heart. For a minute, at least.

  She escaped outside before she tried to kick something. Jake had gone out of town, huh? He didn’t think it was adequate to dump her, but he had to flee the territory too, like she’d turn into some deranged stalker. Like she couldn’t take a hint—well, hardly a hint, more like, Get lost, Kallie. After untying Coco, she led him over to the horse trailer in the bush-concealed parking area and worked on unpacking the rest of the gear.

  The chestnut turned to inspect her work, then lowered his head to crop a long tuft of grass.

  “Yeah, at least one of us is having a good day, buddy.” She patted his neck and picked up the leftover food supplies. The crunch of gravel drew her attention.

  Logan had followed her out of the lodge. Oh wonderful, just shoot me now.

  “The Lowerys were very pleased with your expertise.” His voice—so familiar—made her heart pick up, and turned her mouth down. Jake’s sounded a little smoother, a little deeper, but otherwise…

  “Thanks. Good to know.” She tossed the supplies into her Jeep and went back for more.

  Not taking the hint, he walked over to Coco to rub the horse’s forehead. “Jake was in a bad mood this morning.”

  Kallie stiffened. “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

  “Just surprising. He’d been damned gung ho to join you on the mountain yesterday.”

  And gung ho to run back down. Her ribs compressed her lungs painfully. She started unfastening straps. Damn Logan for making everything worse. Her first few choices of response, like fuck off, seemed too rude to use on a so-called business associate. “Butt out, Hunt.”

  She kept working on the straps. No noise of him leaving. God, she wanted to cry. She wouldn’t—it never did any good—but why didn’t he leave? When she ran out of buckles, she turned.

  His blue eyes, grayer than Jake’s but just as intent, examined her face. And then he sighed and shook his head. “You drive carefully, sugar,” he said gently. He squeezed her shoulder as he walked past her to the lodge.

  “I will,” she muttered to his back. After she unclenched her hands and pulled her composure into place, she scowled at the tall figure climbing the steps. Did he think she’d drive off the road because she’d lost a…a bed partner? Not hardly. Maybe nobody ever stayed with her, but she wasn’t the type to jump off some mountain like that girlfriend who’d screwed him all up.

  She coaxed Coco into the trailer and headed home, driving carefully just to prove Logan’s worries were wrong.

  To top off a lousy day, Virgil’s police car sat by the house. She scowled. Talking to another overprotective male was more than she could handle right now. The gravel she kicked at his car made a satisfying plink as the stones hit the hubcap. Probably a criminal offense, attacking a cop car.

  She brushed Coco down and put him into the pasture. She put the gear away. She cleaned the messy shelves, fixing everything to her satisfaction as if straightening up would put the rest of her life under control.

  It didn’t work, but at least the tack room looked pretty. She glanced at the house, craving one of the soft drinks in the refrigerator. Maybe Virgil would be in his room.

  God hates me today. Her cousin sat at the kitchen table, eating supper. He’d stacked several burgers left over from the Fourth into a massive sandwich.

  She nodded at him and grabbed a diet soda.

  “Hey, little bit, how was your hike?”

  “Okay. Cute kids.” She popped the top and drank, the bubbles scouring the trail dust from her throat. “I’m going to shower.”

  His hazel eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  Did she have a sign on her forehead that read: KALLIE GOT DUMPED? “Nothing.”

  “Uh-huh. You seen Jake recently?”

  “None of your damned business,” she snapped.

  His face set into stone, and his eyes turned glacier cold. She tried not to flinch. Last time she’d seen that expression, he’d punched an abusive husband so hard the guy probably still sucked his food through a straw.

  But his anger wasn’t directed at her. She sidled toward the door.

  “Hold up. I need to talk to you.” His brows drew together into his worrywart expression, the one he got whenever she did something he considered unsafe: dating, drinking, working in Alaska, mountain climbing, drinking, dating…

  Waiting for the lecture, she rubbed her shoulder on the door frame and then frowned. With dark circles under his eyes and deep lines around his mouth, he looked like roadkill. “Are you okay?”

  “Just tired. SAR found a hiker’s body two days ago. A woman.”

  “I heard.” Poor Jake. She could hate him and still feel sorry for him. “Fell from the trail.”

  “No, honey, that’s the problem—she didn’t fall. Someone murdered her. And others over the last couple of years.” He rubbed his eyes as if it helped the lack of sleep. “We’ve got a serial killer in the area, and it looks like he targets short, dark-haired women.”

  Kallie blinked. “Others? Nobody happened to notice there were little dead brunettes lying around?”

  “Nobody put it together—thanks to a coroner who can’t tell which side of the scalpel to cut with.” He muttered under his breath, “Fucking incompetent bastard.”

  “But he finally figured it out?”

  “No. The hotshot new coroner who replaced him did when she autopsied the last hiker.” Virgil’s mouth tightened. “Too many of the contusions were the same size and—wrong somehow for a fall. Someone beat that woman to death with a heavy branch.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Yeah. The coroner started checking older records. And then she called the sheriff’s department. And they alerted all the police departments in the ar
ea.” He moved his shoulders as if to get the knots out. “I doubt anyone got any sleep last night.”

  “Surely even an incompetent coroner would have realized—”

  “The murderer tosses the bodies off steep trails so it appears as if they fell.”

  “That’s…ugly.” A creepy feeling started in her spine and worked upward. I’m short and dark-haired.

  “Yes.” Virgil’s gaze rested on her black hair, and he gave her a hard stare. “Until he’s caught, you don’t go anyplace in the forest alone.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, caught the determination in his gaze, and rethought. Don’t be stupid. “Fine. Nothing’s booked for me until next week anyway. Catch the bastard quick, okay?”