Chapter 12

When his intercom buzzed, Quentin swore under his breath. He’d given Anna explicit instructions not to disturb him as he marked up a proposal from his chief lobbyist to pitch to a Virginia congresswoman. Gilmore’s visit earlier had disrupted his morning, and this interruption only fueled his foul mood. The intercom buzzed again. Quentin hit the talk button with more force than necessary. “Anna, this better be a true emergency.”

Anna ignored his clipped tone. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Raines is on line two.”

His irritation grew. Raines knew better than to contact him at the office. Quentin disconnected without a word to his admin, then punched line two. “Make it quick.”

“There’s been a slight complication.”

Quentin tightened his grip on the receiver. In his experience, that meant something he wasn’t going to like. “And what might that be?” His voice took on the harshness that usually sent associates scrambling out of his way.

Raines didn’t miss a beat. “The FBI is handing over copies of the original kidnapping investigation.”

An oath escaped his lips before Quentin could gain control of his emotions. “How is that even possible? The case was solved nearly two decades ago.”

“That reporter submitted a Freedom of Information Act for the file.”

“What are our options?” Quentin learned over the years that there was always a way around bureaucracy.

“The request has already been rubber-stamped.”

“I don’t want that nosy reporter reading those files.”

“I understand. However, the new FBI director has initiated a policy of quickly complying with FOIA requests. If the case is solved, is more than ten years old, and the perpetrator is either deceased, has been sentenced, or has served—or is serving—his or her time, it’s expedited. This case ticks all of those boxes.” Raines drew in a breath. “I discreetly inquired as to what could be done to slow or halt the process in this particular case, and my source emphatically told me not a thing. The director is, and I quote, ‘not going to make the same mistakes as her predecessor did by antagonizing the press,’ end quote.”

Quentin digested the information as if it had been a sour apple.

“As for the FBI files, anything we do to try to prevent Gilmore from acquiring that information will likely trigger bureau interest, which I know you do not want.”

He most certainly did not want the FBI nosing around again in the disappearance of his son. The first time had been bad enough.

“Do you want me to put someone on the reporter?” Raines asked.

If the FBI hadn’t uncovered what happened to Jesse, a journalist certainly wouldn’t either. “No, just keep an eye on the girl.” Quentin ended the call. His hand hovered over the speed dial to his wife’s cell phone number, then he replaced the receiver. Better to tell Ruby in person. She’d be angry, but he would be sure to have something on hand to sooth her nerves. Not for the first time, Quentin cursed the day Melender Harman came down out of the mountains and into their home.

* * *

In the growing darkness,Jared kept his head down but his eyes alert as he scanned the park while making his way to the paved path that led around the soccer field. After hours, an eeriness blanketed the playground as the swings hung motionless. Maybe the word on the street had been wrong and Snake was still in jail. That would make things so much easier. Then he brushed past a trio of whispering college girls, one of whom covertly tucked a plastic baggy into her purse. The trio then moved quickly toward the parking lot. A familiar longing for a high coursed through his veins. Snake always had the good stuff that made you forget your troubles, at least for a little while.

Jared clenched his fists. No way he was heading down that road again. He’d been clean for three years, and he had no intention of becoming a slave to the pills again.

Moving off the paved path and into the tree line, he spotted a wisp of smoke to his right. The sweet scent of marijuana teased his nostrils with its seductive promise of relaxation and peace. He’d drawn in a deep breath before he even realized what he was doing.

“It’s been a long time, Jared.” Snake’s voice drifted along with the smoke from his joint.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom that enveloped the small patch of wilderness on the edges of the park, he saw Snake stood with his back against a tree. “I heard you were out.” Jared turned his head away from the wafting smoke to avoid as much of the intoxicating aroma as possible. He didn’t need to get a buzz just from talking to his former drug dealer. The man hadn’t weathered this last bout in prison too well. He’d been slim before his incarceration six years ago, but now his frame was even bonier. His skin hung on his body like a second suit of clothes. The snake tattoo that encircled his neck sagged, losing its menacing appearance.

“I heard you kicked the habit.” Snake drew deeply on the joint and blew the smoke in Jared’s direction.

It took every ounce of Jared’s self-control to not wave his hand to push the smoke away. Snake would interpret the motion as weakness on Jared’s part, like he couldn’t handle a little smoke. “Yeah, I decided to move on.”

Snake pinched the joint with the tips of his fingers, then pocketed the stub. “So it had nothing to do with your daddy threatening to cut down the money tree unless you quit.”

He’s baiting you. Jared should have expected Snake to have picked up on the gossip about his former client.“That was definitely a consideration in my decision.”

Snake laughed. “You always were a cool customer.” He stepped closer to Jared. “My sources tell me that your cousin is out of jail.”

A chill swept over Jared even in the August heat. “What else?”

“That your stepmom lost it with Melender in a convenience store in front of some reporter.” Snake leaned closer, his hot breath fanning Jared’s face. “Don’t worry, I remember our deal.”

“Good to know.” Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. Still, the intel meant Snake must keep up with local news. And with anything to do with the Thompsons. This was not good.

“But I think another payment will ensure I don’t forget our little arrangement and say the wrong thing to the wrong person, if you know what I mean.”

Scum like Snake always wanted more. For now, he’d give him what he wanted. Reaching into his back pocket, Jared withdrew a battered envelope. “Consider this my stay-out-of-jail donation.”

Snake took the envelope, opened it, and fingered the currency. “Now if you’re not here to buy, then get along. I have business to conduct.”

As Jared walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done the right thing. Maybe he shouldn’t have… Well, too late now. He’d have to play it out to the end and hope his stupid mistakes didn’t come back to swamp him.

* * *

In the gray dawn,a light breeze tousled Ruby’s shoulder-length blonde hair as she climbed from her Mercedes convertible. She adjusted the Velcro band that held her iPhone snug against her upper arm, then inserted her wireless ear buds. Like she’d done hundreds of times before, she turned left to start her circuit of Burke Lake Park’s crushed gravel path. Only this time, she had a different agenda in mind than exercise.

As she pumped her arms to an upbeat playlist pulsing in her ears, she picked up her walking pace. Her thoughts drifted to an image of Melender as a chubby-cheeked six-month-old. With Bobby Ray being older by a dozen years, he’d been married and had Melender by the time Ruby had turned thirteen.

Ruby pushed herself to walk even faster, nearly jogging, but the pace didn’t stop the memories playing in her mind’s eye like a movie. Melender as a toddler, calling after her Aunt “Wuby.” Melender as a three-year-old, clinging to Ruby after her mother’s early death. Melender as a four-year-old, tears trickling down her cheeks while Ruby packed her bag to leave the hollow. The sadness in Bobby Ray’s eyes as he handed Ruby a sack of sandwiches at the bus station. The letters Sudie wrote once a month on notebook paper until Ruby moved one time too many and hadn’t bothered to tell her grandmother the new address.

A pair of squirrels darted in front of her across the path, their furry figures blurred by sudden moisture in her eyes. Dashing away the tears, Ruby jacked up the volume in an effort to drown out the memories. But the increased noise did little to stop the flow. The brown-wrapped parcel she received from Sudie upon her return from their European honeymoon. Inside the package, she found her parents’ wedding quilt that Sudie had made years ago. Holding the bedspread with its mountain flower pattern and two doves in the center against her chest, she’d breathed in the sweet, clear scent of the mountains.

Pregnant with Jillian, she’d hidden her tears when Sudie had sent news of Bobby Ray’s death from a fall down an abandoned mineshaft. Her shame in not wanting Melender when social services contacted her after Sudie’s death nearly two years later. She’d worked too hard to have a daily visual reminder of all she’d left behind on the mountain.

Sweat soaked her shirt as she rounded another bend in the path, still alone as the sun inched over the horizon. She should have listened to her instincts and not let that viper into their midst, but she had bowed to the pressure from social services and her husband and brought Melender home. No good deed goes unpunished applied in spades to that decision.

As she caught a glimpse of the paddleboat dock, she slowed her pace. No sense arriving out of breath. By the time her sneakers hit the wooden boards of the dock, her breathing had steadied and her reminiscences about the past had been firmly shoved back into her mind’s locked box. Her gaze focused on the ripples across the lake as fish nibbled at the surface and ducks dove for their breakfast.

The dock shuddered as another person approached on the weathered boards. Ruby turned off her music and faced the individual. The young man wore a Nationals baseball cap pulled low, shielding his eyes, while a scruffy beard hid the lower half of his face. What was up with the youth of today and beards anyway? Reeling in her thoughts, she took a step toward him, causing the dock to sway. “I want her harassed as much as possible.”

“So you said.” The man sounded bored, but Ruby resisted the urge to correct his dismissive tone. “Physical contact?”

Ruby considered which approach would hurt Melender more—psychological torment or physical punishment? “Nothing physical right now.”

The man nodded.

“You’ll find a bag with everything you need under the passenger’s seat in the Mercedes convertible parked near the ice cream stand.” She gave the man a hard stare. “I expect daily reports.”

The man touched the brim of his hat with slim fingers, then slouched away down the dock.

Ruby returned her gaze to the water as the sun burst over the horizon, shedding red, orange, and yellow rays across the lake’s surface. Watching the sunrise used to thrill her as a new day unfolded, but that was before the nightmare of Jesse’s disappearance.