Collateral Damage

TWO

The shadows of the night whipped past Sarah’s headlights as the depth and warmth of Nick’s reassuring voice continued to echo in her head. The rhythm of his words soothed her into a near-trance. Her eyes were half shut when a deer flitted across the road in the far reach of the high beams, shocking her awake. She hit the brakes, glad the lateness of the night had emptied this highway of most automobiles. This part of Missouri was notorious for its nightlife; nocturnal animals could outnumber cars on the road.

Another deer leaped past the beams, and another, and she braced herself, pressing harder on the pedal.

The chirp of her cell phone claimed her attention as the small herd disappeared into the blackness of forest south of the road. When she answered, she heard John’s wide-awake voice.

“Got something, Sarah. Are you hands-free?”

“No, but there’s no traffic.”

“Pull over so we can talk. I’ll wait.”

“John, stop being such a policeman. I’m practically stopped already.” No need to mention the deer. She pulled far off the shoulder into the grass beyond. “Just tell me what you’ve got.”

“Listen, how much time does Emma spend online? I’ve warned her about the danger of predators.”

Already startled awake by the deer, Sarah felt her muscles tense. “What did you find?”

“I’ve got a couple more names and addresses for you. Did you know a man by the name of Alec Thompson? His comment on Nick’s blog was, ‘Emma, I know your family.’ It was as if he was trying to lure her into a conversation. I’m getting ready to call Sheriff Moritz over there to give him a heads-up on—”

“No, don’t. Alec’s okay.” The lack of sleep, the worry about Emma, the reconnections to the past were all catching up with her.

“You know the guy?”

“His family owned several businesses in Jolly Mill when we lived there, and he dated a friend of mine. You know, I haven’t been there in over sixteen years, but I still think of Jolly Mill as my hometown. We’re talking about a small community, where everyone knows practically everyone else. The thought that someone I might have known could’ve been a killer—”

“And that Emma’s headed there?”

Sarah gritted her teeth. Yes. Exactly. “And she won’t answer her phone.”

“Sorry she’s doing this to you. I know you think your old hometown’s the best place on the planet, but things change over the years.”

“Not so much. Those explosions would have stirred up the whole community, even though we’ve been gone since Emma’s conception. People are going to talk, and when they talk, some questions might be answered. Nick’s blog was a good idea.” Sarah opened the window and allowed the cool night air to rush into the car. “Emma wasn’t there when I called Nick.”

“I’m sorry, cuz. You know we’ll all be praying for you to have a safe trip.”

“I’m not even sure I can make it there tonight.”

“Why not?”

Sarah took a deep breath of fresh air and watched the fog of moisture drift through the moonlight when she exhaled. “I barely slept after a little tiff with Emma last night. It’s catching up with me now.”

“Where are you?”

“Close to Cabool.”

“Only halfway. You’d better get thee to a safe hotel and get some rest. You won’t do Emma any good if you have a wreck.”

Sarah needed coffee. The clock in her dashboard told her it was nine-thirty. Two and a half more hours of driving, and she still had no idea if she would find Emma when she arrived at her destination.

“I checked out Nick a little more thoroughly,” John said.

“How?”

“It’s all about computers these days, cuz. It’s there—you just have to find it.”

“So...what did you find?”

John chuckled. “Can’t help yourself, can you? I have a feeling you might be carrying some glowing embers for the guy.”

She felt herself smiling in spite of everything. “John.”

“Sorry, but if Nick wants you to know about his business, he’ll have to tell you himself.”

“Did you read his blog?”

“Yep. Cuz, don’t freak, but I’m afraid he might be onto something. He asked for information about a toxin leak many years ago in a river about twenty miles from Jolly Mill, but unless he comes up with more there, I think that’s a no-go. Still, something’s up.”

“Nick didn’t say anything about that.” She shoved open the door, stepped out into the cool night air and was nearly sideswiped by a speeding motorcycle. She ran around the front of her car and into the ditch on the other side, her footing precarious.

“Breathe, Sarah.”

“I’m breathing.” But this was feeling too real.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

“Someone intentionally called Edward just before the explosion. Everyone in town probably knows about the bad cell reception in that conference center, so they must have known he would step outside. Our parents were best friends. Those meetings they had every year? They used to hold them in a place on Spring River until that toxin scare. After that, Dad made the decision to change the venue to the conference center at Jolly.” She stepped from the soggy, weed-filled ditch into the heavier darkness of the woods. “The man who owned the place on the river killed himself after the dioxin spill at Verona, and Dad blamed himself.”

“What? Why?”

“Because when Dad withdrew from the Spring River center, others did, too.”

“That’s no reason for Uncle Mark to blame himself. He was protecting people.”

“What if someone else blamed him for that poor man’s suicide? The guy lost his income and lost hope.”

There was a hesitation. “Okay, listen, Sarah, I’ve got some vacation days coming to me. I could call the chief, see if—”

“No, you don’t need to go to Jolly. You need to get that detective position.”

“This is getting a little too much for nonprofessionals to handle.”

“Nick told me there’s an ex-cop he’s working with.”

There was a heavy sigh. “Guess you know where to find Nick.”

“I practically lived at their house half the time when I was a kid.”

“I’ll update you if I find anything else. You stop and rest. And, Sarah—”

“I know. You’ve got my back.”

“That’s right, cuz, I’ve got your back.”

* * *

The gentle melody of Sarah’s voice echoed in Nick’s mind instead of the scrape of the hasp he eased over one of the push mower blades. She was coming here. The last time he’d seen her in person she’d had long, Goth black hair and her beautiful eyes had been overwhelmed by the heavy makeup. How would she look as a grown woman?

He realized he wanted to see her, looked forward to it.

Once again breathing in the scent of motor oil, dried grass and gasoline in the two-car garage, he glanced at the clock and wondered where Dad was. For the time being, both of them had been parking their vehicles in the driveway so there would be room for Nick to work on the mowers and lawn-care equipment he’d purchased two weeks ago. Dad had pulled Mom’s car around back to a shed where he wouldn’t have to look at it every time he stepped to the kitchen window. He refused to drive it. Instead, he continued to rattle around in the twenty-year-old Ford pickup he’d always driven. Small-town pastors didn’t bring in millions from their congregations.

Nick’s thoughts returned to Sarah and the stress evident in her voice, her sorrow over the loss of her parents, the love he’d heard between the lines for her younger sister. Nothing felt quite real tonight. Except for Sarah.

Like Dad, Nick was still grieving hard over Mom’s death. After the shocks in life these past couple of years, he was still scrambling to catch up with a lot of things. Maybe he was grasping for something from the past—something of comfort. If nothing else, Sarah’s presence, even over the airway, had served to take him back to a gentler time when she was his friend and confidante, solid and serene and capable of gentle humor. Her twin had the infectious giggle and quips that kept everyone else laughing, but sometimes it was at the expense of others. Sarah never did that.

He was turning the rotary to the next blade when he heard the unique murmur of a Volkswagen Beetle engine pull to a stop outside the house. The engine died. He frowned. He’d neglected to ask Sarah what kind of car Emma drove.

A car door closed, and he was waiting for the chime of the doorbell when a knock against the garage door three feet away startled him.

“Dr. Tyler?”

Young. Feminine. Sounded a little shaky. And he couldn’t ignore the title. Respectful, as she’d seemed online and on the phone. Emma. He hesitated, relieved beyond expectation that she’d arrived safely, but for Sarah’s sake unwilling to make her entrance an easy one. She must have seen his work lights seeping out from beneath the big door. It was why she hadn’t gone to the front.

“Hello?” she called.

“Yes?” He drawled the word slowly.

“Um, I’m Emma? You know, Russell?”

He waited for more explanation.

“We emailed and talked to each other a few times about our mothers?” she continued. “They were friends. And you went to school with my sisters. The twins? Do you remember Shelby and Sarah Russell?”

Shaking his head, amazed she’d think he wouldn’t remember, he grabbed a slightly stained work rag and wiped as much grass and oil as he could from his hands. “Don’t you live in Sikeston?”

“Well, yeah, but I came here to see you.”

Sarah was right: this one was a handful. “And Sarah’s waiting for you in the car?”

“Um, no. I’m by myself.”

“What! How old are you, young lady?” He allowed disapproval to reflect in his voice and made her wait and wonder, the way Sarah was waiting and wondering.

“I’ve got my license.”

“You don’t say.”

“I’ve been five hours on the road—well, okay, six, no, wait, seven, because I got lost a couple of times trying to find Jolly Mill—and I didn’t stop. I thought I’d run out of gas before I could find your place.” She giggled nervously. “You people sure like to keep to yourselves, don’t you? You got a bathroom? I really have to—”

“Does Sarah even know where you are?” He was tempted to keep stalling. Sweet and genuine as she seemed, the kid could use some discipline.

“Um, yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure of that.” He reached for the button to raise the door but didn’t push it. “You’re trying to tell me she sent you driving across the state all by yourself? I would never have believed the Sarah Russell I knew would be so irresponsible.” He silently apologized to Sarah.

“Um, well, no, she didn’t. But she knows where I am now, anyway. I’m sure she does, because I sent her an email.” There was a soft moan.

Nick grinned, relenting at last, though Dad was still gone and it was totally against the unwritten rules of preacher-kid conduct for a teenager to visit a single, grown, male nonfamily member alone in a house.

He pushed the button that started the garage door’s slow and noisy ascent. Light from the garage revealed bare legs to the knees—though the temperature certainly didn’t warrant shorts this late at this time of year—and bare arms. He could practically see goose bumps from twenty feet away.

Then her shoulders and head came into view. Long, dark brown hair; deep, familiar brown eyes; the slight curves of a girl younger than sixteen. Those curves were covered demurely enough. She had the wide, uncertain gaze of a teenager who knew she was probably in trouble and was having second and third thoughts about acting out. She was the image of her older sister, Shelby—would be the image of Sarah at that age, as well, of course, if Sarah had kept her natural hair color and wiped the glop from her face.

He sucked in his breath as memories accosted him—fuzzy memories of a party and of Shelby Russell and once again a haunting at the back of his mind over Emma’s birth nine months later, despite being assured she belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Russell. He’d seen pictures of her and wondered, but Shelby had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Had that night even happened? Maybe Sarah could clear things up.

“You wanted to talk to me, remember?” Emma rushed into the garage, hugging herself and doing the girly dance of urgency. “You said so in your last post.” She sounded like Shelby, too, and her voice held that breathless, excited quality that Shelby had used when she was cheerleader their sophomore and junior years.

“I said I wanted to talk to you and Sarah. Big difference. You should have waited until she could come with you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming when you called?”

She continued to dance and hug herself, the dainty lines of her face making it clear she was struggling with guilt and agony. “I’m sorry. If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have let me come. And I know Sarah wouldn’t have come. She always has some excuse to stay home. A-always better to do the deed and then apologize later than to ask for permission first and then disobey, r-right?” She was trying to sound so blasé, and failing so prettily.

He suppressed a grin. “Really? I always heard that was the coward’s way out. You couldn’t have learned that from the Sarah Russell I knew.”

“From a cousin in Sikeston. You got a jacket or something? You didn’t tell me you lived on the North Pole.” She was still trying to brave it out, though he could read her emotions from the quick blinking and sniffing, the wobbling of her dimpled chin.

“I live on the same latitude as you, so you should have known better.” He grabbed his sweatshirt and tossed it to her, then glanced out the door. Every resident along Capps Creek would know about this visit before breakfast in the morning, not that any of their neighbors would think ill of him—not that he even cared for his own sake. He did care about Dad, however. As good and kind as most folks were in this town, at least one sin dwelt in abundance in this place: gossip.

“B-bathroom?”

He nodded toward the door to the house. “Down the hall and to the left.”

She crashed through the door before he finished talking. “Thank you!”

He stood where he was for a moment, amazed, charmed, far too curious and somehow, beyond all else, comforted, and he didn’t even know why. Time to share some of that comfort with someone who needed it more than he did. He picked up the receiver and dialed Sarah’s number.

* * *

Sarah’s eyelids pulled downward as if ten-pound barbells weighted them. She forced them open for at least the fiftieth time and was jerking the car back onto the road when her cell rang. It awakened her only slightly. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw a wall of semitrucks coming from behind. Her foot had slid off the accelerator and she had slowed to fifty miles per hour.

Must take this call. She slapped her right cheek hard enough to water her eyes, sped up, grabbed the cell and answered. She checked the screen for a fraction of a second and allowed herself a rush of elation when she saw it was Nick. “Please tell me she’s there.”

“She’s here.”

She gasped instinctively, and her emotions rolled on a current of remembered thrill at the deep tone of comfort in his voice.

“You sound awfully tired.”

Without warning, the moisture in her eyes turned into a cascade, and Sarah felt her face contort. As in Sikeston, she could barely see the road, and this four-lane was a lot busier. “I had some coffee, but that’s not cutting it.” She steered the car onto an exit ramp as trucks rumbled past. “Thank You, God,” she whispered, unable to contain the sobs.

“Hey, Sarah, honey, it’s going to be okay.” He used the endearment as if without thought, but it was exactly what she needed at the moment.

It gave her time to compose herself and manage traffic. She stopped at a signal, realized it was green, turned left and followed the road toward the outer edge of Springfield. “I’ve been so scared. If anything happened to her I’d just...” She would want to die. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Sorry.” She took some quick gulps of air to regain control. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t called, Nick. Thank you. I can never repay you, and I’m so sorry to be causing all this trouble, and—”

“You aren’t the one causing trouble, Sarah. You’re the one trying to manage everything on your own. Why don’t we start worrying about you now? Where are you?”

The flow of his words wrapped around her like a blanket held in front of a fireplace. “I just pulled off the interstate in Springfield. I don’t know why I didn’t just stay on Highway 60, but—”

“Springfield’s a good place to stop.” His voice was so gentle she felt more easing of the ache that had been with her for hours. “Is there a hotel nearby?”

“No need for that.” She glanced around her at the signs, then caught a familiar logo. Airport. There would be parking. “If I could just get a little rest, freshen up, get some coffee—”

“Let me call a nearby hotel and make reservations for you. My treat. I don’t want you taking any chances.”

She turned right at the airport sign, then pulled to the side of the road, unable to continue. “Why are you being so kind? You don’t even know me now.”

“Damsels in distress, that kind of thing. Besides, how can you say I don’t know a lifelong childhood buddy? How many English tests did you prep me for? Remember how well we knew the woods around town and every inch of the creek bank? Sneaking into the backside of the cave? Do you still have that little egg-sized formation I found and gave you?”

That brought a slight smile. “Sure do.”

“There are brothers and sisters who don’t know each other as well as we do. Don’t sixteen years count for anything?”

She smiled a little more as she recalled the happy times they’d gone fishing together, hiked the hills together and yes, even explored the cave before the adults discovered what they were doing and put a stop to it. He’d even confided in her one day when they were sixteen about a crush he’d developed on Shelby. Which had, of course, broken her heart.

“Your little sister looked kind of frightened,” he said.

“Why? Did something happen?” Sarah went on immediate alert.

“She got lost, and I don’t think she was sure of the reception she’d receive here.”

Good. “So what kind did she get?”

“Firm but fair.” There was a smile in his voice, and it warmed her.

“Don’t worry, Dad will be here before long. In fact, I’ll call him now and see what’s keeping him, but he’s out with old friends and probably forgot to check his watch.”

“I’ll get there as soon as I can.” She dabbed at her face and resisted checking her reflection in the mirror—and why on earth would she do that? It wasn’t as if he could see her. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to impress him with her appearance.

“Sarah, it’s late. By the time you’d get here we would all be asleep, including you, and that would be dangerous. There are two spare rooms for guests—you know how Mom loved company. They opened up the attic to make another guest suite just last year, and that’s where I’ll put Emma. She’ll be safe and warm and fast asleep before you could get here. I’m serious about making reservations for you in Springfield.”