Page 42 of Traitor

Chapter Sixteen

Ford

As the weekturns into the weekend, it's made very clear I know nothing about kids, especially teenagers, but with Nell's help, we manage. It isn't pretty, but she's alive, so I consider it a job well-done.

"Do you mind watching her for a couple hours? I want to take a walk around the lake." I ask Nell when business slows down Sunday morning.

"I'm not a kid," Lexie interrupts. "I don't need a babysitter."

"You're not getting free rein of the lodge, either," I tell her, then to Nell, I say, "If she gives you any trouble, there's some rope in the shed. Tie her up and leave her until I get back."

Nells eyes sparkle. "You leave it to me. We'll have a girls' day."

"Just don't burn the place down. Play nice with Nell," I tell Lexie.

"When is Mom coming home?" Lexie asks. She sighs and rolls her eyes, but I can tell her mother's absence is bothering her. Damn Mercy. Much as Lexie is trying to cover up how much it bothers her, there's no hiding the hurt in her gaze.

I've been trying to call Mercy all week. When she did answer, she gave me every excuse in the book. She'll be back in a couple days. Money trouble. Car trouble. Excuse after excuse. The truth is, I don't have any answers for Lexie, and I'm not going to give her an excuse. I don't want to lie to her. I may lie to everyone else, including myself, but I won't lie to her.

"I don't know, sweetheart, but until she gets back, she left me in charge and I say you're going to hang out with Nell for a little while."

Lexie bites her lip. "You're coming back, right?"

I pause at the door and turn back. "Of course I am. We'll binge something when I get back—your choice."

That causes her to smile. "You promise?"

Remembering something Mercy and I used to do when we were children, I lean across the counter, extending my hand. "Pinky promise."

Lexie rolls her eyes again, but she hooks her pinky finger around mine.

The quiet wrapsaround me like a lover, and I feel a little guilty for how much I'm enjoying being alone as I travel deeper and deeper into the forest. I don't have to take the long way around to get to the opposite side of the lake to begin my search, but after a week of dealing with Lexie's teenage angst and Mercy's absenteeism, I'm remembering why I used to enjoy deployments so goddamn much.

Sheriff Hadley has all but written Peyton's reports off, but there's a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that won't let me do the same. I keep coming back to seeing Peyton floating in the water, lifeless. If I had any sense at all, I'd forget the whole thing and go back to being the grouchy recluse, but it's the not knowing that's making me edgy. At first, I wanted it all to go away. For everyone and everything to leave me alone so I could stew in my own misery. I still want that. But as long as I've got Peyton hovering around trying to figure out what happened, I can kiss my so-called peace goodbye.

I may not find anything today, but the last thing I need is for Peyton to decide to play detective and traipse all over Windy Point looking for a murderer. I've had blood on my hands enough in my lifetime—I don't want to add hers to it.

With that in mind, I aim toward the shoreline, leaving my sanctuary behind me. We'd had a storm come through a couple days back, and the rain should have churned up any secrets that may or may not lay at the bottom of Bear Lake. Any evidence left from the assault may have washed ashore in the meantime, and this may be my only chance to figure out what happened—once and for all.

I weave through a break in the trees and find a lone figure marching along the beach. At first I scowl, thinking maybe Lexie followed me down after all. Then, I get closer and there's no mistaking the whip of golden hair or the lush ass and pert breasts. My mouth goes dry remembering what those pretty rose-brown nipples taste like. Knowing I can't go there again only pushes me from annoyed to pissed off.

"You're asking for trouble, aren't you?" I say, when I get close enough that she'll hear me over the roaring wind.

At my voice, she spins, and it takes a moment for her eyes to focus in on me. "I really hate that saying," she says instead of answering. "Who actually asks for trouble? It's insulting."

Marching forward, I take her arm in my grasp. Damn woman shouldn't be walking out here on her own. "You shouldn't be here by yourself. You know good and well if there is someone killing people in Windy Point, they've heard that you're the one who witnessed the murder by now. You realize that makes you a target?"

She jerks her arm from my grasp and stumbles back like she can't get far enough away from me. "And you should realize that no matter what I do, I can't stop someone who doesn't operate by a moral code of any sort. It wouldn't matter if I was alone or not if they did want to target me. You of all people should know that."

She's going to be the death of me. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm working on my tan. What do you think I'm doing? I take back what I said. You must be crazy."

Her eyes go wild. "I spent a long time trapped in my own house, in my own mind. I've been crazy before so that doesn't offend me."

"Good, 'cause I meant it as a fuckin' compliment. Now are you going to come with me to look around, or are we going to spend the next couple hours arguing? There's only so much daylight."

"Why do you have to irritate me so much?" she asks as we begin walking. "You would have thought the sex would have softened you up some."