“So the Refuge and the disciples missed each other by five years.”
“Yep. The whole thing smells of cod.”
She thought for a moment. “My father, Parson, and Rainier were all around the same age, but Parson never attended the same university as my father and Rainier, correct?”
“Nope. Not on record, anyway. It’ll be interesting to see what the desperado turns up. I’ll send over the request tonight. He works fast, should have some more info in the next few days.”
“Do I want to know why a hacker who calls himself the desperado owes you favors?”
“You unequivocally do not.” Adam grinned, looking pleased with himself.
She listened for a second, hearing the soft echo of piano keys in the next room. Shanna had moved on to Mozart. “So you mentioned current stuff too?”
“Yeah. It was the books Rainier brought for Shanna that got me noodling. I’m sure the good sheriff is following up the same line of thinking, but I thought I’d do it anyway in case he didn’t. It was too far away to see if the spines had any library barcodes on them, so I made a couple phone calls to the two nearest libraries and had them check Rainier’s name in the system. I didn’t think he’d be dumb enough to register himself like that and he wasn’t—no Harold Rainier ever checked out books in a hundred-mile radius of here. Next I put in calls to the bookstores. There’s four in the area, two in strip malls and two secondhand shops off the beaten path. I emailed them all the sketch of Rainier and described him over the phone. Heard back conclusively from three of the four—they’ve never seen him.”
“He could’ve had most of the books before the fire. I’m guessing he wouldn’t have wanted to expose himself unnecessarily just for entertainment.”
“Right. He’s a sick bastard, but he did have the wherewithal to know Shanna needed some form of escape to keep her sane.” He paused, lowering his voice. “How is she, by the way?”
“Considering everything? Remarkable. She’s . . . very tough.”
“Runs in the family.”
She smiled, looking down at her hands. The scars there sobered her. “Thank you for all the research. Backtracking the books was a great idea.”
Adam shrugged. “Aw, shucks.”
She rose and gestured at the next room. “I better check in.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay if I leave the doors open tonight?”
“Fine with me. I’m still on East Coast time so I’m shot. Turning in soon.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.” She left the door in their room open six inches and took comfort knowing Adam was only feet away. Clare was about to ask Shanna how she was liking the music, but stopped short. She was curled up the bed, eyes closed, a fan of hair over her face. The phone, resting on the pillow beside her head, played softly on.
She debated on trying to get Shanna undressed and under the covers, but decided in the end to just fold the comforter over her. She lay on the bed next to her sister and stared at the ceiling, mind freewheeling. There was something hidden tying the two cults together, she just wasn’t seeing it. She figured the natural conduit was Rainier and Parson, but how they connected was also wreathed in fog. Despite living a hundred-odd miles apart in generally the same time period, what else did they share in common?
A love for control for one. A fervent belief for two. Beyond that, she couldn’t say.
Her phone chirped, startling her. It was Eric, checking in. It would be around their supper time out there, the sun beginning its descent to quench itself in the Pacific. She yearned for the sound of the gulls and crash of the surf so badly at that moment she would’ve given anything to stand on the soft sand and let her bare feet sink in to the ankles.
She took the phone into the bathroom and shut the door as to not disturb Shanna or Adam. Eric picked up on the second ring.
“How’s the sunset there?” she asked quietly.
“Dim without you. How’s the northwoods?”
“Just plain dim. We’ve made some progress though.” She related the events of the day, finishing up with what they’d learned regarding Rainier and Parson. He was quiet for a time when she’d finished.
“Are you being careful?” he finally asked.
“Yes. Definitely.”
“I mean, what are the chances this guy’s going to come after Shanna?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not likely. Given how everything went down when she escaped I’d say he’s scared to death right now. He had an opportunity to follow her to the house where she was found, but didn’t. That says he’s a coward. I’d guess he’s in hiding right now but he’ll reveal himself soon.” Her mind slid to the item tucked behind the seat of her rental before coming back to the conversation.
“Still, he’s mentally unbalanced. You don’t know what people like that will do.”
You have no idea, honey. “No, you’re right. But we have good protection. Doors are locked, and everyone and their brother is on the lookout for him. By the way, Adam says hello and that he wants a rematch at golf.”
Eric laughed. “Tell him he’ll have to actually play golf first. Whatever he did last time was nowhere near it.”
Clare stifled a giggle. “Oh, I’m totally telling him.”
“Good! Hope he can use his pistol better than a nine iron. On another note, is he that much better company than me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why’s he there and I’m here?” The playful jab was belied by something in his voice.
“He’s here on an unofficial-official capacity. He wanted to help.”
“So do I.”
“I know you do.”
There was a drawn moment before Eric sighed. “No, I get it. I’m just missing you, that’s all. Jealous Adam is sleeping next to you and I’m not.”
She laughed again. “He’s sleeping in the next room.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
She quieted. “I really miss you too, honey.”
“Listen, I have the presentation tomorrow, then I’m booking my flight for Thursday. Unless something changes drastically, it sounds like you might be there awhile.”
She hesitated before sighing resignedly. “It’s a plan. I don’t want you to have to come all the way out here, but I want to see you too much to tell you no.”
“Wouldn’t listen anyway.” When he spoke again his voice had lost the warmth of before. “How have you been feeling since you got there? Any panic attacks?”
She swallowed. Part of her wanted to spill everything, tell him of the stairway that wasn’t there, of the coin that vanished from the room, of the memories circling her mind like sharks in dark water, only the tips of their fins visible. But she couldn’t. Not yet. If she told him those things she might say what she was intending on doing tonight, and that wouldn’t fly at all.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said. It was as close to the truth as she could get.
“I’m worried about you. I’ve had this edgy feeling since you left. And I know it’s everything that’s happened along with us being apart, but it’s almost this compulsion to just fly out there and bring you home no matter what it takes. Total masculine overreaction, I know, but it’s there nonetheless.”