Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Three

Perry

As predicted, Mother Nature wasn’t done with us. Not by a long shot. Thunder rattled our cabin, and lightning lit up the gloomy evening. The air was heavy with humidity and grew worse when the power finally gave up and decided to skip out on the latest wind and light show. The fans died an uneventful death, their still blades making the heat even worse.

“With the rain, it’s cooler outside than in,” Nate said. “Maybe we should open a couple of windows.”

“With it raining like this?” I stared out one of said windows, visibility poor given the torrent of water falling from the sky.

“We could open a couple on the south side. The storm’s coming in from the northwest.”

I considered Nate’s proposal just as a crack of lightning hit close by, followed by the deafening roar of thunder. Clapping my hands over my ears, I knew my decision had been made. “I’ll take the heat over the sound.” I wasn’t sure if opening the windows would really make it that much louder inside, but I couldn’t imagine it making it worse.

“I didn’t know you were scared of storms,” Nate said as he walked to the mini fridge and grabbed a couple of bottled waters.

Twisting the cap off the one he offered me, I answered, “I’m usually not, but I don’t think this case qualifies as usual .” It sounded like the wind might rip the roof off our little cabin. Suddenly, our hideout didn’t seem nearly as sturdy as I first imagined.

“Agreed.” Nate sat down again after pulling his chair a little way from mine, placing a modicum of distance between us. Given the heat, I didn’t mind. “Mother Nature sounds royally pissed.”

I chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. Sometimes, I thought that was Nate’s superpower—the ability to make me laugh in the face of overwhelming obstacles. Then again, I kind of thought Nate Harmon had been gifted with a lot of superpowers.

I jumped when Nate’s phone chimed with the latest severe thunderstorm warning. Mine quickly followed suit.

“Not sure how I feel about this feature.” Nate grimaced as he stared down at his phone, struggling to figure out how to turn down the volume. I applauded his seemingly useless attempts. My head was starting to sing its own kind of warning—one that promised a shit-ton of pain.

Getting up, I made my way to the counter and the small pharmacy of meds I had lined up. The sad thing was that my pharmacy had shrunk significantly in the past few months. Still, there were at least half a dozen pill bottles. Phone in hand, I hit the flashlight function and winced at the bright light. With the power off and the storm raging outside, it was too dark in the cabin for me to read the labels without the light.

“What do you need?” Nate asked as he came up beside me and took my phone from my hand.

I rattled off the drug’s name, and Nate found it for me easily. Handing me the appropriate dosage, Nate snagged the bag of Oreos and guided me back to the table and chairs we’d hunkered down on.

“Probably not the best choice, but you should eat something,” Nate said as he pushed a couple of cookies my way.

I didn’t argue and shoved them in my mouth, swallowing before following them with my meds and a healthy dose of water.

“Do you need to lie down?” Nate asked.

I considered the question before honestly answering, “Probably, but I don’t think I can rest with the laser light show going on outside.” And that was saying nothing of the howling wind, pounding rain, and thunderous explosions. Swallowing another cookie, I said, “Besides, my brain’s too busy right now.” I frowned while considering those words. In my case, a busy brain wasn’t conducive to pain-free days. I wished dearly that I could open a port in my brain and let some of the worry floating around drain out. A porthole for the brain. Maybe I should have asked my surgeons to leave something behind when they cut a hole in my skull.

Nate leaned back, barely flinching when another clap of thunder shook our cabin. While I might not like the topic, I figured talking would at least be a distraction and asked, “Do you think Dr. Schroder’s still alive?”

Nate stared at the ceiling, his biceps pulling at the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. Hands clasped behind his head, I couldn’t see Nate’s expression when he finally answered, “I’m not really sure. Delia seems to think it’s possible. If she is, then you can be sure Willie has a reason to keep her breathing, and I don’t think any of us will like it.”

Nate’s phone rang, and his eyebrows rose before furrowing when he checked the identification on the screen. Accepting the call, he said, “Hey, Nat. You okay?”

I couldn’t hear the response but figured it wasn’t what Nate wanted to hear when his brows furrowed deeper. “How long?” he asked and then released a heavy breath when he heard the answer. Eyes slipping closed, Nate placed his thumb and forefinger against his forehead and said, “It can’t be helped. You getting killed trying to get to us won’t help anyone. Stay put and wait for the worst to pass before you try and get on the road.” Nate nodded, and a smile eased his cramped features. “Yeah, I get it. I’d hate waiting too, but it’s the right thing to do. Stay safe, Nat. I’ll see you when I see you.” There was a small pause before Nate said, “Yeah, me too,” before hitting the end button.

My water bottle crunched in my hand as I squeezed. “Is she okay?”

“Physically? Yes. Nat’s all kinds of pissed. They’ve closed 69 south of Indy. Both lanes are shut down as well as all connecting roads. There have been a couple of tornados reported between here and Indy, and parts of the road are flooded. Nat said she could try a different route down backroads, and I told her it’s not worth it. Basically, she’s stuck until the weather breaks.” Nate pulled up his weather app, and a frown deepened the grooves around his lips. “Shit, it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen anytime soon. It’s just wave after wave of violent storms.” Nate twisted his phone for me to see.

We might not have power, but at least the cell towers were still working. We should have charged our cell phones last night. It looked like Nate had about half a charge and last I’d checked mine, I was down to a third.

“That’s a lot of red.”

“I haven’t seen anything this extensive for a few years.”

I hadn’t either. Like a lot of Midwestern states, Indiana was known for its unpredictable weather. Sometimes, that meant temperature fluctuations. Sometimes, it meant violent storms. Often, it meant both. As a general rule, we didn’t have it as bad as the states in the plains. When we did have an outbreak, it reminded all of us that we weren’t always at the top of the food chain. Mother Nature had a way of humbling humanity.

“Looks like we’re on our own for a while longer,” Nate said. Despite his best efforts, I could hear the stress in his voice. He’d really been counting on Nat.

As if he could read my mind, Nate stared at his empty phone screen and said, “I don’t feel as objective as I need to be.”

Self-doubt and disappointment colored Nate’s words. “I doubt anyone could,” I tried to reassure.

Nate just shrugged as if he weren’t so certain.

Conversation dropped off as Nate and I sat there silently, neither of us certain what to say. I jumped a mile when I heard a crash in the distance. My head swiveled to and fro, searching for the source of the sound. Nate’s fingers gripped my hand. He could probably feel my pounding pulse leaping through my skin.

“Tree,” Nate said. “Or at least I think that’s what it was. I heard something earlier when you were asleep. The wind’s pretty brutal, and we’re surrounded by old-growth woods. The forest is taking a beating.”

“Whole trees?” I asked, eyes wide as I considered how sad that seemed.

“Not sure. Probably some. Mostly branches, but I’d imagine there’s more than one tree out there that’s enjoyed its last day in the sun.”

I absorbed that information and said, “Hank Shelton’s going to have a lot of work ahead of him.” I wasn’t sure why my mind jumped down that odd highway, but I didn’t try and reel it in.

Nate grunted. “Hard, manual labor would do that man good.”

I wasn’t so certain but remained quiet regardless as my mind wandered again. If Dr. Schroder was still alive, that meant she was out there somewhere. Was she scared? Was the violent weather making her situation all the worse? Did the raging storms affect Willie at all? Did their violence bring out his own?

Those thoughts and a thousand and one more tumbled through my brain, there one second and gone the next. I barely registered when Nate stood and grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the bedroom.

“Looks like the power’s gonna be out for a while. I doubt I can sleep either, but at least we can lie on the bed and be more comfortable.”

I couldn’t disagree and easily followed his lead. For a change, and despite the heat, we both remained clothed. Should our cabin truly give way or we needed to make a hasty dash from it, I didn’t want to be caught outside in just my boxer briefs. There was trauma, and then there was trauma .

M orning dawned cooler and sunnier. The strong front had moved the humidity along, at least for now. I had no illusion we’d seen the last of it this summer. Still, the cooler breeze was nice. I’m not sure what I appreciated more—the lower temps or the stillness.

Nate and I’d drifted in and out of sleep. Malcom had sent out a few group texts, asking us to check in to make certain we were all safe. Nate had dutifully given our details and that we were as safe as possible. We’d gotten a softly smiling emoji for our efforts.

Power was still out, and from what Nate could find on his phone, it was doubtful we’d get it back anytime soon. Central and southern Indiana had been repeatedly hit hard. There was area flooding, trees and powerlines were down, at least half a dozen reported tornados (although some would be downgraded to straight-line winds), and a shit-ton of damage.

Nate and I were up with the sun. It was almost eerily silent. The birds even seemed cautious with their tunes, as if they weren’t certain singing was acceptable after the carnage of the night before.

Thankfully, our cabin had gas, which meant the water was still warm when Nate and I showered. With the exception of the bottled waters Nate had taken from the mini fridge last evening, we’d kept the fridge closed, hoping it would keep the cold air inside a bit longer. Cracking the fridge open this morning revealed it was cooler, but certainly not cold.

Prodding the OJ, I asked, “You think this is still safe to drink?”

“Probably. I’d say no if it were milk.”

I made a gagging noise. I liked milk on my cereal, but not in a glass. Nate wasn’t a big fan either, and we’d left the milk at home, along with the cereal. I could do with Pop-Tarts, and Nate was fine with his bagels.

Our breakfast was room temperature but edible. Nate and I took our breakfast bounty to the porch. We both frowned at the wet chairs.

“I’ll get a couple of towels,” Nate offered before ducking back inside. Setting my drink and food on the railing edge, I took the opportunity to sneak off the porch and take a cursory look around.

While tree limbs lay across a lot of cabin roofs, the cabins themselves seemed to have withstood Mother Nature’s onslaught and come through intact. I whistled low. Leaves, limbs of all sizes, and a lot of debris littered the communal firepit areas. The whole space needed an industrialized broom and dustpan.

“I got us wiped off and dry,” Nate said, making me realize I hadn’t even heard the creak of the screen door to announce his presence.

Walking back up on the porch, I thanked Nate for giving me a dry spot to plant my bum and eased into my chair. We sat there silently, eating and people-watching as Maverick employees gradually filtered out.

My eyes tracked them, and I couldn’t help but wonder if each and every person I saw was another assassin for hire. Did anyone at Maverick Insurance sell traditional policies?

“It’s weird, I know,” Nate said. When I glanced his way, he pointed his glass of OJ in the direction of the other cabins. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s the same thing I’ve been mulling over. Are they all involved?”

My Pop-Tart felt dry and ached as I swallowed. “It’s scary to think about.”

“No argument here.” Nate stuffed a large chunk of bagel in his mouth.

I started to say something but closed my mouth when I realized I had no idea what. What did one say in a situation like this? God, I had no idea.

I didn’t have to ponder long before my attention was pulled elsewhere. “Looks like Hank Shelton weathered the storm okay.” While that was true, the man looked harried. His steps were purposeful and measured as he made his way to our cabin. When Hank got close enough to see his features, they looked downright grim.

“Ranger Shelton,” Nate greeted from his seated position. “Rough night?”

Hank barked out a humorless laugh. “You could say that.” With a deep frown that bordered on apologetic, Hank said, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it looks like you guys might be stuck here for another day or so. I know your retreat is scheduled to end today, but there’s a lot of work to be done before we can clear the park roads enough to get your vehicles out.”

Nate’s body tensed. “ Clear ?”

Hank let loose a whole-body sigh. “Multiple trees are down, blocking the road. The rangers are going around the campgrounds, making sure everyone made it through last night and also checking to see if anyone needs provisions or health support. We’ll be able to get things delivered to the park entrance, but getting vehicles any farther is currently a no-go. Same with getting out.”

“Shit,” Nate whispered, his voice so low I wasn’t sure if Hank heard him or not.

With a nod toward the trails, Hank said, “I wouldn’t advise going for a walk right now, either. We need to assess the trails and see if there are any trees down or branches that got caught up in higher canopy that could fall and injure someone. Getting the campers out will be priority number one, but from the looks of it, a lot of central and southern Indiana is a mess.”

I stiffened. I hadn’t even thought about home, the boys, and Gayle.

Nate’s hand shot out, his fingers entwining with mine and gripping tight. I swear my man could read my thoughts.

“Thanks for letting us know. Perry and I are fine. We brought some snacks and other things with us, so we should be able to get by.”

“Good to hear.” Hank gave a wry grin before heading off to a cabin across the way.

“I’ll give her a call,” Nate said, pulling up Gayle’s phone number before I had a chance to ask. He was silent for so long that I thought for certain Gayle wouldn’t answer. When Nate cringed and held the phone away from his ear, I figured he’d woken her up and Gayle wasn’t all that pleased.

Nate passed the phone to me and said, “Here. She’s your friend. You deal with her.”

I slapped his hand as he gave me his cell. Gayle was still going on about trying to sleep after last night’s storms and being rudely awoken when I broke in with “Any damage?”

My voice was enough to startle Gayle out of her rant. “Perry? Is everything okay? Why did Nate call me instead of you?”

I waved a dismissive hand in the air, not caring that Gayle couldn’t see it. “Because the man read my mind and knew I wanted to check on you before I did.”

“Oh…Well, I suppose I can forgive that, then.” I could hear Gayle yawn before she came back to the phone. “Everything is fine. I spent the night in your apartment. Tiff’s with her sister. I haven’t checked in on our place, but Indy didn’t get any tornados. There might be some trees or limbs down. Parts of the city got some hail, but I don’t think it was large enough to do a lot of damage. As expected, your scaredy-cats spent the night under your bed. They finally crawled out this morning when I opened up the door to the pantry holding their food.”

I chuckled. “That will do it.”

“I figured. Anyway, they’re fine. I’m fine too. How are you two? Was it very bad? I planned on calling you later, you know, after I got a decent amount of sleep after being up most of the night.”

Ignoring Gayle’s dig, I answered, “We’re fine. The power’s out, and it looks like we might have to stay an extra day or so because they have a lot of downed trees that need to be cleared because they’re blocking the park roads.”

“Fuck. That sucks.” Gayle blew out a heavy breath.

“Are you okay to keep watching the boys if we get back late?” The question was asked more out of politeness than true concern.

“Of course. Don’t worry about them. I’m glad you two came through okay. Given your calm demeanor, I’m assuming Delia’s fine also.”

I swallowed hard and shot a guilty look in Nate’s direction. I truly planned on telling Gayle everything, but now wasn’t the time.

“I’m not entirely certain, but I haven’t heard anything concerning. Nate and I are sitting outside our cabin. We’ll see her when she gets up.” I dreaded that moment. What was I supposed to say to Delia? Should I talk about what I’d learned? Did we sit down and have a heart-to-heart regarding her violent tendencies?

I remembered Delia’s earlier comment. It had seemed odd at the time, her worry that I’d never look at her the same way again. Could I still look at her and see the friendly, kind Delia I’d become accustomed to?

“Tell her I said hi, and that I hope those rangers get you guys out sooner rather than later. If I know Delia, she’ll ask if they’ve got another chainsaw and show everybody up.” Gayle’s tone overflowed with affection. The sad truth was, I could imagine exactly what Gayle suggested.

“Give Delia a chainsaw, and we’ll be out of here by tonight,” I agreed easily.

“Damn straight. I—” Gayle paused before saying, “Tiff’s trying to call. I better get that in case she needs something.”

“Okay. I’ll talk with you soon.” Gayle ended the call before I had a chance to do the same.

“Everything okay?” Nate asked, and I nodded.

“Looks that way. Although, to be truthful, I’m not sure Gayle’s got enough info to say. It does sound like it wasn’t as bad in Indy.”

“Good.” Nate sounded relieved.

That relief fled when we heard the creaky groan of Delia’s cabin’s screen door. Delia walked out. She looked freshly washed, her hair pulled back into a French braid. When her head turned in our direction, I could see darkened circles beneath her eyes. Delia’s lips parted slightly, and she took a tiny step forward, only to pull up short, her lips closing and tightening into a thin line. With little more than a polite nod in our general direction, Delia left her cabin and headed in Hank Shelton’s direction. The ranger was making his way down the line of cabins across from ours.

I watched her walk away. A deep ache settled in my chest. It was an empty pit I had no idea how to fill. “Should I have said something?” I asked, unsure if I was truly asking for Nate’s opinion or not.

“Only if you know what you want to say,” Nate answered.

“I have no idea what to say.”

“Then maybe best to keep silent for now. You’ll figure it out, Perry. Trust your gut.”

“She’s a killer.” Those words whispered past my lips, as if saying them quietly would lessen their truth.

“Delia Carpenter’s a lot of things. That’s only one,” Nate sensibly answered.

“That’s a pretty big one,” I argued back.

“It is. The question you need to ask yourself is if it is big enough to overshadow all her other qualities and traits.”

Blinking, I turned my wide eyes on Nate. “How can you say that?” I wasn’t trying to be judgmental. I simply didn’t understand. “You’re a homicide detective.” By all rights, Nate should be out there arresting everyone at this retreat.

“I am,” Nate answered casually. “If there is one thing being a homicide detective has taught me, it’s that the world isn’t black and white. Shades of gray cover every damn landscape and muddy the hell out of morality.”

My eyes were dry when I finally blinked them. “I don’t know what to do with that,” I finally answered.

Nate just gave a crooked grin and answered, “That makes two of us.”