Dana Mentink

Endless Night


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forwarded more while she was helping pile snow? What had the intruder seen? Her skin prickled, and she itched to scan her inbox but with Roman and Skip there, she didn’t dare.

      “No, nothing taken.” She felt a shudder sweep through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself to hold it in.

      Skip shook his head. “Never in the years I’ve owned this place has something like this happened. Whoever it was must have picked the lock or gotten the spare from the lodge office.” He sighed. “We’ll have to go to the police when we’re in town. See what they make of it.”

      Jackie jumped. Was she ready to explain to the cops? How could she tell them about the break-in without revealing the whole sordid mess? “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

      Skip stared at her. “Why not?”

      She forced a laugh. “It’s probably just a prank. There was no harm done, nothing stolen, no one hurt.” But it wasn’t a prank. The person who’d been snooping on her laptop hadn’t found what they were after, so they’d come back and searched more thoroughly.

      Roman raised an eyebrow, but didn’t speak. He cocked his head and his long bangs shadowed his face. Jackie wished she could read his thoughts.

      Skip looked unconvinced. “Well, if you’re sure, I certainly have other things to focus on today. I’d put you in another cabin, but we’re full up. In any case, I’ve got one of those latch locks we can add. I can try to get Dax to install it.”

      “I’ll do it.”

      Roman’s voice was so low she almost didn’t hear it.

      Skip shot a glance at him and then at Jackie. “I’d sure appreciate it, Roman. I’d never ask, but I’m just plain swamped.”

      “I’ll do it after my last flight this afternoon.”

      Skip nodded and headed for the door. “I’m awful sorry about this, Jackie. I hope it doesn’t ruin your vacation. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing and why.” He plodded out into the snow.

      At that moment her phone rang. She moved to a corner to answer, hands shaking.

      “Ms. Swann?” The voice was muffled.

      “Who is calling?”

      “Officer Smith, S.F.P.D. We’ve been looking for you. We have some questions about the situation at your employer’s.”

      Something in the stilted tone made her uneasy. “Okay, but first tell me the name of your supervising officer and your badge number.”

      There was a long moment of silence. “You are the one being questioned here.”

      “Not until you give me the information.”

      The tone of the voice changed. “Look, honey. We know where you live and the make and model of your car. We even know where your father lives. All we want is that thumb drive. You hand that over and you get your life back.”

      Her stomach spasmed. “Don’t threaten me,” she snapped.

      “We’ll get to you. It’s a matter of time. You’d better keep your mouth shut.”

      She hung up, head spinning. Reynolds’s men knew she was here. Had they paid someone at the lodge to search her room? Or sent one of their own men? She thought of Byron Lloyd.

      Her knees began to tremble with a sudden violence. Before she sank to the floor, Roman caught her and helped her to a chair. She sat there clinging to his hand, terror threatening to sweep her away.

      He knelt next to her, eyes searching, and gently stroked her hand.

      “What is it?” he whispered. “What is wrong, Jackie?”

      She clutched his fingers, trying to will his strength into her body. It was too much. She’d gotten herself into a place she could not get out of. They would find her. She shivered. They already had. “I don’t know what to do.”

      He frowned. “About what?” He leaned closer. “Tell me, Jackie. Let me help you.”

      His face shone with concern. If she could just lean on him, trust him as she had for so many years. Her father’s words came back to her. Roman killed your brother. Don’t ever forget that. Though she wanted more than anything to lay her burden on his wide shoulders, she could not. Not with Roman. Allowing him into her life again would reopen wounds that were still ragged with agony. With a painful effort, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Nothing. A delayed reaction to all this. I’m okay.”

      “You don’t look okay.”

      She forced herself to breath normally, to still the shaking of her hands. “Really, I’m fine.”

      “No, you’re not. If you don’t want to share your problem with me, I guess I can understand that.” His eyes clouded. “I know that all ended a long time ago, but maybe you’d better confide in someone who can help you.” He gestured around the room. “This looks like more than you can handle on your own.”

      Her whirl of emotion exploded into a fiery rage. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. I’ve handled it all, including laying my brother to rest. And where were you, Roman? You were nowhere. Did you call? Write? Did you even think about how I was handling things without my brother and my father, sick with grief?” She found herself sobbing.

      Roman looked as if he’d been punched. “I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t hurt you more. I wrote, but I never mailed the letters.”

      “You just didn’t want to face up to what you did.”

      He shook his head. “I’ve had to face up to that every day, every minute of my life.” He started toward the door and continued, his voice almost a whisper. “Just so you know, I visit the spot where you scattered Danny’s ashes all the time. And I was there that day, at the funeral, watching from the bluff.”

      She almost didn’t hear his last words. “I think I died that day, too.”

      “I…I didn’t know. You should have come to me at the funeral.”

      His eyes glittered. “Come to you? Would you have wanted the person who killed your brother there? Would your father?”

      She couldn’t answer.

      He sighed. “That’s what I thought. I’ve got to go now.”

      After he’d left she tried to still the trembling that swept through her. He’d been there, on that terrible day, enduring the grief and shouldering his own deep sense of guilt. She had never known that he’d shared the blackest moment of her life.

      The idea was too much, too dark.

      Desperately she tried to direct her mind to something else.

      With shaking hands, she nudged the computer to life, praying a new message from Asia hadn’t arrived when the intruder was in the cabin. It seemed an eternity before the inbox swam into view. No new messages.

      The relief took her breath away. She pulled up a search engine and input Adventure Roads Magazine.

      “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth, Mr. Lloyd.” The Web site was slick and colorful. Part of her felt disappointed. She’d been half expecting to find there was no such magazine, but here it was in bold, splashy color. An online archive made it easy to search all prior issues.

      This time when the search was finished, Jackie felt not disappointment, but sick dread. There wasn’t one single article by anyone named Byron Lloyd.

      

      Roman had a hard time keeping his mind on his work as he checked over the plane.

      Jackie was terrified of someone, perhaps the same someone who had broken into her room. He fought a strong desire to return to check on her, call her, drop everything and find her that very moment.

      Jackie