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Chapter Twenty-Four

Nate

Damn. I wanted Nat here yesterday. Pride be damned, I should have asked her to come sooner.

Perry had gone back inside for a few minutes, leaving me alone to witness Malcom Johnson playing king of the hill by the central bonfire. I’d yet to see Gabe but wasn’t necessarily surprised. Gabe was only slightly less transparent than Willie.

My eyebrows shot skyward when Malcom turned his attention from Maverick’s questioning employees and strode in my direction. I debated about alerting Perry. If Perry didn’t want to speak with Malcom, I’d make up some excuse as to why he couldn’t be disturbed.

I didn’t get the chance. Perry pushed our squeaky screen door open, stopping in its doorframe. Turning my palm up in invitation, Perry closed the distance between us and entwined our hands. I remained sitting while he stood at my side.

Malcom’s expression was schooled into that emotionless mask I loathed. It was pleasant enough, but only surface deep.

Stopping at the bottom of our porch, Malcom raised one leg, resting his left foot on the first step. Hands on his raised thigh, Malcom leaned forward. His gaze briefly flicked in my direction before heavily settling on Perry. Something softened in his expression, his fondness for my fiancé leaking through his carefully-crafted mask of apathy.

“Perry,” Malcom started, “it’s good to see you came through last night well enough.”

Perry’s fingers tightened. “We survived.” Those two words were clipped but not harsh.

“As did everyone else,” Malcom answered.

“Even Dr. Schroder?” Perry asked boldly.

Malcom’s calm demeanor didn’t so much as flutter. “I suppose that remains to be seen, but I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

I made a valiant effort not to gape or stutter. My success was a definite failing grade. “ No reason? ” I asked incredulously.

Malcom shrugged. “I’ve had no information to prove otherwise. I believe it is poor luck to believe the worst. It would be like wishing an ill fate on the woman.”

I sat there in disbelief, wondering where in the hell Malcom came up with this bullshit.

Voice small but with a rod of steel along its back, Perry asked, “Is that how my father would have felt? Is that what he taught you?”

A fleeting beat of sadness passed through Malcom’s eyes, there and gone just as quickly. “That is a rather tricky topic, Perry. Are you certain you wish to travel that road?”

I heard Perry’s hissed inhale and glanced up. His eyes were pinched, and his jaw tense. I could practically see the war raging within his mind, and I wasn’t certain what his answer would be. Eyes slipping closed, Perry released a heavy breath, expelling his doubts before he answered, “No, I don’t. Whatever you have to say, whoever the man was that you knew, that wasn’t my father. I’m not deluding myself. I’m just saying the man you knew wasn’t the same as the one who raised me. I won’t taint his memory or throw doubt on our relationship. Maybe if Dad were still alive, I’d feel different. But he’s gone—dead and buried. I won’t go digging him back up, even if it’s just memories.”

Malcom’s mask crumbled into a faint smile. For the first time, the man looked every bit his age. “It’s nice to see that wisdom didn’t skip a generation, Perry. Your father would be very proud of the man you’ve become.”

Before Perry could turn his head completely, I caught the shimmer of tears. He remained quietly contemplative.

Turning my attention back to Malcom, I said, “We saw Delia exit her cabin earlier this morning. I assume she’s doing okay?” Despite what he’d found out, Perry would worry about Delia.

“She weathered the storms well. Delia is a survivor. She always finds a way to come out on top,” Malcom answered smoothly.

Perry huffed. “There’s more to living than merely surviving. I should know.”

“Well said,” Malcom agreed. “I’ll convey your concerns.”

Perry stuttered but did nothing else to deny that his words had been spoken for that very reason. Perry considered Delia a friend, and you couldn’t flip a switch on those feelings in a single night, no matter how turbulent the news.

With Delia covered, I asked “And Gabe? I haven’t seen him lurking about anywhere.”

Malcom’s chuckle was deep and held a hint of fondness. “I’m sure you haven’t. Gabe is seen only when he desires. As for his state of health, recent communications indicate he is alive, well, and working diligently.”

“Working?” Perry asked, suddenly alert.

“Mmhmm. As you know, Gabe is one of our best agents. He was hired for a reason, and I have faith that he will soon prove his worth.” Malcom sounded very self-assured. Not that that was any different from how he typically sounded.

“So I’ve been told.” My words were clipped and held a touch of sarcasm. Malcom either didn’t notice—or, more likely, was ignoring my flippant response.

Pulling his foot off the porch, Malcom straightened and said, “As you can probably imagine, today’s planned events are moot. Delia and I will most likely spend the day putting out imagined fires and reviewing Lydia’s notes. With the power out this long, I’m afraid all the perishable foods, including the frozen treats, are ruined. We do have some hamburgers and hot dogs left in the freezer. While it’s not cold enough to keep the ice cream frozen, it has remained cool enough that the meat should be safe, at least through lunchtime. We’ll plan one last cookout.”

“We’ll be fine. Perry’s got enough Pop-Tarts to tide him over, and I’m swimming in bagels. As long as we’re out of here by tomorrow night or the day after, we should be good. Either way, we won’t starve.”

Malcom’s attention turned to Perry again. “And your medication? Did you bring enough in case we’re stuck here for an extra day or two?”

Perry nodded. “I’ve got plenty.”

“Excellent. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if needed. As Ranger Shelton said, if we need anything, we should be able to get supplies to the front gate. We can carry them here if needed. In the meantime, try and relax and enjoy the remainder of the retreat.” Malcom ended with a beaming smile before he turned on his heel and walked away.

Perry was silent for a beat before he said, “I always thought something was a little off, but I…has he always been so evasive?”

“With me, yes. I’m not sure where you’re concerned.” I didn’t want Perry to feel like he’d traded out his sunglasses for rose-colored ones. “He did save your life. Twice, if you want to consider the first time with Willie in the alley.”

I was still holding Perry’s hand and felt his shiver. “I’m not sure that one counts.”

“Maybe not, but the one with Brian VanHorn does.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

I started to say something, but Perry pulled his hand away and walked down the porch steps. “Want to check out the damage?”

By way of answer, I stood and followed. My legs could certainly use the stretch. Our cabin felt increasingly confining. Tucking my phone into my pocket, I followed Perry as we headed toward the small parking lot. We’d stick to the roads and get our own look at the damage.

I wished Hank Shelton had exaggerated when he said the roads in the park were impassable. Perry and I’d run across no less than five felled trees, their trunks varying in size as they crisscrossed the roads we traveled. Getting by on foot was difficult enough. And we’d only traversed a small portion of the park’s infrastructure.

Perry and I’d gone back to the cabin, neither one of us much for conversation. I think we were both stuck in our minds, wondering how things had gone to shit so quickly. I’d gotten a couple of texts from Nat. She was still stuck a little way south of Indy. She’d holed up in a hotel overnight, but a piece of said hotel had broken off and landed on her car. The vehicle wasn’t operable and she was waiting on a rental. Thankfully, Captain Barrington wasn’t with her. Nat said if the rental didn’t come through soon, the captain planned on getting to her and picking her up. I’d texted back that there was no reason to hurry considering the state of the park. They might be able to park along the road or just inside the front gate, but that wasn’t certain. Worst-case scenario, they could park somewhere nearby and call a ride share to drop them off. Flashing their badges would most likely get them into the park. They could hoof it the remainder of the way.

Lunch had been a quiet affair, much more solemn than other group dining experiences. Malcom had broken out what was left of the chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers. A few employees decided to make s’mores, but nearly everyone else went back to their cabins. At least, I thought that’s where they’d gone. All I knew was they weren’t milling about in the open.

The afternoon passed and I’d gotten a couple more texts from Nat saying she was fed up waiting for the rental and the captain was on his way to get her. Guilt gnawed at me, and I nearly told her to head back home. Not that she’d listen. That knowledge was the only thing that stayed my finger from texting. Nat was on a mission and was determined to get to us. I knew better than to throw up another roadblock.

Delia had been MIA. Throughout lunch, Perry’s gaze had flicked here and there, and I knew he was actively looking for her. Most likely, he wasn’t ready to speak with Delia yet, but that didn’t stop his concern. At one point, I’d bumped him with my shoulder and said, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Perry didn’t seem completely convinced, but he did settle and eat the remainder of his lunch.

Surprisingly, the pool was open, and we’d contemplated going swimming. I would have gone and kept watch while Perry swam. I’d offered, and he’d waved me off and said there was no reason to give Willie more opportunities.

As far as I knew, there’d been no news about Dr. Schroder. If Willie was using her abduction as a taunt, so far, he hadn’t reached out to Perry or me. Maybe he’d sent some lovely photos to Malcom. If so, Malcom wasn’t sharing, and I didn’t expect him to. I had a feeling Malcom Johnson had skipped the sharing lesson when he was in kindergarten.

The day dragged on. While the weather was pleasant, my mind was anything but. The power was still out and I was trying to conserve my phone power. Perry’s phone was worse. I had a charger in the car, and worst-case scenario, I could turn the car on and charge the phone.

“Have you seen the grape jelly?” Perry asked while peeking out the screen door.

I twisted, happy to have something else take up room in my head. Maybe this was a mystery I could actually solve.

“It’s not with the food we brought?”

Perry shook his head. “No. I thought I saw it there earlier, but I can’t find it now. I was going to make us some PB&J sandwiches.” Perry wrinkled his nose. “I’m not so sure about peanut butter alone. That doesn’t sound nearly as good.”

Pushing out of my chair, I shook out my legs, realizing belatedly I’d been sitting in the same position for far too long. “Maybe we left it in the car. You want me to go check?”

Perry sucked on his bottom lip before he said, “Do you mind?”

“Nope. Can you toss me my keys?”

Perry ducked back inside for a moment before he cracked the screen door and tossed them to me. “You want me to come with you?”

“I think I can handle this. It’s just across the way.” I nodded in the direction of the car. Truth be told, I could use the distraction and the brief exercise.

“Okay. Hurry back,” Perry said before his face disappeared and the screen door screeched closed.

I hopped down the steps on a grape-jelly-finding mission. Our vehicle was within sight of the cabin and took less than five minutes to get to. If we’d really forgotten the jelly in the car, I wasn’t sure what condition it would be in. While parked in the shade, I figured the temperature in the closed-up car still had to have been steamy. I wasn’t sure if jelly liquified at those temps or not. I guess we’d find out soon enough.

Opening the back door, I started rooting around. There wasn’t much left. My shotgun was exactly where it was supposed to be, but that wouldn’t help in the creation of PB&J. With my ass sticking out the door and my head down, searching under the seats for a wayward jar of jelly, the surrounding sounds were muffled.

I was coming up empty and just beginning to rise when pain exploded across the back of my head. White spots danced in my vision while a muffled voice said, “Sorry about this, Detective.” I had a brief moment to realize the tone was too feminine to be Willie Slater before darkness consumed me.