Read Cry in the Night Online

Authors: Colleen Coble

Tags: #ebook, #book

Cry in the Night (4 page)

She returned his kiss, then stared into his eyes. “Is there something wrong?”

“Just busy. You’d better let me get back to work.” He knew his brusque tone had hurt her when she dropped her gaze.

He should tell her about the job situation, but the words stuck in his throat. He got out without saying another word. Only when her Jeep disappeared around the bend in the lane did his mind turn to the baby part of Dave’s story. What if Dave really had seen someone dispose of a child? Two babies were missing. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Bree’s number, then ended the call before it could ring. No sense in worrying her. Mason would be the better person to contact. He punched in the sheriff ’s cell number.

“Hey, Kade,” Mason Kaleva answered. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Hey, listen, Dave told Bree something weird.” He related the story about a windigo who looked like Rob burying a baby in the snow. “I hear there are a couple of babies missing from the res. Been talk of some screams. I’m thinking it might be a cougar.”

“I’m heading over to talk to them. You want to come with me?”

“You don’t mind? I was hoping to hear their story too.”

“Nope. I’ll pick you up in two minutes. I’m just down the road.”

“I’ll be ready.” He closed his phone. Bree would want in on this if it might affect Dave at all. He punched in her number and told her what was happening. Before he got it all out, she was turning her vehicle around.

“Be right there,” she said.

By the time Kade put the snowmobile back into place, Mason’s SUV was pulling in the lot with Bree’s Jeep right behind him. Kade jogged across the lot and held the back door open for Bree and Samson.

Bree reached the SUV with the dog. “I’m going too, Mason, you mind?”

“Nope. Hop in the back.”

Bree climbed into the backseat while Kade took the copilot seat beside Mason. Kade stared out the window while Mason filled them in on all he knew. They were at their destination in minutes.

The Keweenaw Bay Indian Community had been here since 1854 and was as much a part of Michigan culture as the big lake itself. The kids went to public schools but still headed home to the res. It created a subtle class difference that disturbed many on both sides.

Mason drove to the house where the woman lived who had lost the child. Along the way, Bree ran her window down to throw out a handful of pistachio shells. She tipped her head to the side.

“What’s that?”

“What?” Kade asked.

“I thought I heard something. Like a baby crying.” She paused.

“There. It came again. You think it’s a cougar?”

Mason ran down his window, but the only sound was the wind scooting along the icy cliffs above their heads.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Kade said. He ran his window back up.

“Maybe it was the wind,” she said.

Mason continued to their destination. He parked in a pullout that had been cleared. Nearly buried in drifts, the modest ranch home sat back off the road. Someone had managed to shovel a path to the front door from the parking spot. To protect the walk from the next snowfall, sheets of plywood made a covering over the top of the walkway. Kade took Bree’s hand so she wouldn’t slip.

They had to duck under the low-hanging plywood roof to scuttle up to the door.

Mason raised his gloved fist and knocked on the door. Kade stayed back two feet to give him space. Here out of the wind, the temperature wasn’t too bad. The door was opened almost immediately by a woman. Her dark eyes were full of hope that quickly faded when her gaze went to their empty hands.

“You have not found my baby?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Mason said. “You’re Ms. Meadowlark?” When she nodded, he added, “I’m Sheriff Kaleva, and this is Kade and Bree Matthews. I wondered if we could ask you some questions.”

She stood aside with obvious reluctance, and they entered. The house was spotless, though the furniture, clearly from the fifties with a square shape, was sparse and worn. Kade kept hold of Bree’s hand and let Mason take the lead. His gaze wandered the room and lit on a snapshot of the woman with a blond man. She held an infant on her lap, and she and the man were smiling.

“That the baby’s father?” Kade asked, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut when Mason glared at him.

“Yes. Jarret Smith.”

“Any chance he took your baby?” Bree put in.

The woman frowned. “He says he did not. The tribal police have followed him. There is no sign he has my William.”

“You’re not married?” Mason asked, clearly intending to take charge of the questioning.

“No.” She looked down at the carpet. “But I love my boy. I want him back. I didn’t hurt him.”

“Why do you think a windigo took him?” Bree asked, her voice urgent. “My son says he saw a windigo.” Mason sent a sharp glance her way, but Bree didn’t seem to notice.

“I have heard it screaming by the barn last week. The winter has been very hard on us. Some have been hungry. A windigo appears in such circumstances.”

“Any tracks in your yard?” Mason asked, his gaze intent on her.

“The wind has covered them now. They were large though.”

She measured out nearly twenty inches with her hands.

Mason and Kade locked glances. Kade saw the doubt on Mason’s face, but Kade himself heard the ring of truth. Did this have anything to do with what Dave saw? “You mind if I take a look outside for signs of the windigo you heard?”

“You will not see anything now, but look.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bree said.

They left Mason to finish talking to the woman. “You think this baby is connected to the one Davy said he saw?” Bree asked.

“I was on my way to talk to Florence when you called.”

“I think she should be the next stop,” Kade said. There was nothing here but wind and snow. “I need to get back to work though.”

“I’ll go see her. Will you pick up Davy at Naomi’s?”

“No problem. Call when you’re done.” He studied his wife’s face. She wore that expression of determination. The windigo didn’t have a chance.

The quaint village on the south shore of Lake Superior never changed. Quinn parked his truck on Quincy Hill and stared down at the sleepy town where he’d ridden his first bike and kissed his first girl. He’d always intended to come back someday, but he never dreamed it would be under these circumstances.

Though he’d dropped Jenna at the nicest hotel he could find in Houghton, he almost wished she were with him. Her chatter would provide distraction. His gaze pinpointed the house that was his target. He let the truck coast down the hill until he reached some snow-covered shrubs that partially hid his vehicle. Florence had managed to find out where the kid would be, and sure enough, there he was in the backyard with the O’Reilly children. He wore the same bright red parka and ski mask as last week. The kid’s name was David Matthews, not a familiar name.

Pulling up his coat collar, he put on his ski mask, then got out of the truck and walked briskly toward the fenced yard. He let himself through the gate and moved toward the swings. All the kids wore ski masks, but he recognized the coat David wore.

He heard barking but kept his gaze on the kid. The dog could be a problem he hadn’t counted on. All the possibilities raced through his head as he closed the last few steps to reach the boy.

The kids looked up and saw him. He saw his target’s eyes blink, then Quinn snatched the boy up and tossed him over his shoulder. The children began to shriek, and David struggled to get away. Quinn held him fast.

The dog barked and ran around in circles before planting himself between Quinn and the gate. Every time Quinn shifted, the dog did the same, blocking his access to the gate. He heard a woman scream and glanced toward the house to see Naomi Heinonen brandishing a baseball bat and running toward him. What was she doing here?

David squirmed in his arms again, and Quinn lost his grip on the small, wiry body. He made a last grab at the boy, and Quinn’s fingers snagged the kid’s ski mask. The knitted covering slid from the boy’s face, then Quinn was looking down at a face he’d seen a million times in his dreams. Davy.

Quinn stumbled, and his arms dropped to his sides. The boy raced away toward Naomi, who still approached with the bat.

The dog ran at him again, and Quinn recognized Samson. He kicked at the animal. “Get back, Sam,” he yelled.

The dog veered, then raced after Davy. Quinn took the opportunity to rush for the gate before Naomi could identify him. Or beat him with the bat. He reached the safety of his truck and gunned it away. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw she was already on her cell phone. Calling the sheriff, no doubt.

He drove away with his thoughts in turmoil. Nothing that had just happened made any sense, and if not for the cold piercing his bones, he’d think he’d dreamed seeing two people from his past. A past he’d buried along with his emotions about it.

The paneled room had been recently waxed, judging from the odor of lemon in the air. It was all Lauri Matthews could do to keep from jiggling her leg. She crossed her ankles to settle her nerves, but it didn’t help. Peeking at her watch, she saw it was nearly five. She flipped open her notebook and clicked her pen a few times until a woman appeared in the doorway.

The tall, elegant blonde’s skin showed sure signs of a face-lift. She carried a manila folder, and her eyes were red as though she’d been crying. Lauri guessed her age at about forty-five.

Lauri sprang to her feet. “Mrs. Saunders?”

The woman extended her hand. “You must be Ms. Matthews.

You’re very young.”

Lauri drew herself up to her full height of five-four. “I’m twenty.”

Mrs. Saunders consulted the folder. “Your grades are good, but you college students seem to get younger all the time. Or maybe I’m just getting older.” She gestured to the sofa. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Tell me why you want to work for me.”

Lauri marshaled her thoughts. “My major is accounting, and your firm is known all over the UP. You keep the books for all the biggest companies. I can learn a lot from working with you. Not that I’d be working directly with you, of course,” she added.

Mrs. Saunders scribbled something on the paper in her file. “Actually, you would be working with me for a little while. My assistant just quit and I need a fill-in until we can hire someone. Once we have that person in place, you’d move to the accountant pool.”

Lauri’s elation expanded. She wanted to ask why the woman didn’t promote someone from the pool, but she wasn’t about to blow her chance.

Mrs. Saunders closed the file. “Your credentials look good. Gordon Kievari has given you a stellar recommendation. When can you start?”

She had the job! Lauri tried not to show any unprofessional enthusiasm. “Right away. Today if you like.”

Mrs. Saunders smiled. “Ah, the exuberance of youth. Tomorrow is fine. Eight o’clock sharp. The receptionist will show you to my office. You’ll work four hours a day, five days a week. You’re sure your classes are set for afternoons only?”

“Absolutely. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

The conference room door opened, and a man stepped inside. About fifty, he wore a distracted air. Dark skin circled his eyes, and she wondered who he was.

Mrs. Saunders sprang to her feet and rushed to him. Lauri caught only a few snippets of words: “he called” and “oh no.” She tried not to listen, but it was clear from Mrs. Saunders’s clenched fists and rigid backbone that something was wrong.

The man kissed her, then backed out of the room. Must be her husband, Lauri decided. Mrs. Saunders turned back toward Lauri. The muscles in the older woman’s throat convulsed, and her eyes were full of moisture.

“Sorry for the interruption,” she said. “A personal matter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her tone dismissed Lauri in no uncertain terms.

Lauri headed for the door. “Thanks again, Mrs. Saunders.” But the woman was already turning away. Lauri pulled the conference room door shut behind her. The latch barely clicked before the sound of muffled sobbing slipped faintly through the door. Poor woman. Lauri had no idea what could be wrong.

She wanted to skip to her car, but that would draw frowns from the receptionist and others she passed. Holding her head high, she walked the long, carpeted hall to the elevator and punched the down button. There was no one around to see her goofy smile.

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