38

 

“Why didn’t I see it?” demanded Suzanne, sitting in the front seat so that she could give Jane directions. She yanked on the neck of her thin cotton sweater, shifted in her seat, tapped on the armrest, unable to quiet her nervous energy.

“It’s not your fault,” said Cordelia from the backseat.

“Of course it is. Don’t you get it? If I’d been there, if I’d spent more time with Gabriel—”

“Let the responsibility rest where it belongs,” said Jane.

“I’m sure Branch would be happy to let you take the blame,” offered Cordelia.

“All those new books up in his room. The athletic gear. We didn’t have the money for that stuff, but Branch kept on buying him things. Promising more. I assumed it was because he loved him, wanted the best for him.”

Jane thought back to the conversation she’d had with Steinhauser this morning, how he’d said that Gabriel had turned into an athletic klutz every time Branch showed up at one of his games. Steinhauser had put it down to the pressure Branch was putting on Gabriel to be a star athlete. He’d diagnosed part of it correctly, just not all of it.

They drove in silence until the road veered off to the north and headed into a thickly wooded area.

“Up there,” said Suzanne. “It’s not a road we’re looking for, just a dirt path. But it’s wide enough for a car.”

Jane slowed and then turned. She slowed even more when the tires hit a series of deep ruts.

“Kind of like being a pioneer in a covered wagon,” said Cordelia, gripping the back of Jane’s seat. Under her breath, she added, “Never wanted to be a pioneer.”

Jane drove on, branches scratching at the sides of her car. While still hidden in the trees, she said, “We should probably stop here.”

Up ahead, she could see the cabin. She guessed that it was maybe twenty feet long by twelve feet wide, with two small windows on either side of the front door. It looked ancient, covered in cracked cement siding painted a dull grayish green. There were no electrical lines, no propane or oil tank sitting in the yard. Without heat or electricity, and probably without plumbing, this was more of a shack than a cabin. Branch’s truck was parked in the grass next to it.

Suzanne had already taken off her seat belt. She was out of the SUV before Jane could stop her. “Branch,” she called, rushing up to the door and banging on it. “It’s me. Let me in.”

Jane jumped out and ran after her. They should have discussed their options before she took off.

“Branch,” Suzanne called again, banging even more loudly. “I know you have Gabriel. We have to talk.”

Moving up behind her, Jane whispered, “Take it slow.”

“Unlock the door,” demanded Suzanne. “Now!”

“Get away from there,” came Branch’s voice.

Jane stood on her tiptoes, trying to see in through one of the windows.

“I need to see my son,” called Suzanne.

“He’s fine.” His voice sounded thick, as if he’d been crying—or drinking.

“He’s not fine,” called Suzanne. “If you won’t let me in, then send him out.”

“Or what?” came Branch’s petulant reply.

Jane wondered if she could circle around and come at him from the rear.

“And tell Jane to get back in her car and go home. You wanna talk? That’s the deal. This is between you and me.”

“I’m not leaving her here alone,” called Jane.

One of the windows shattered as the barrel of a shotgun was forced through it. “I’ll use this if I have to. On both of you.”

Backing up, Jane held up her hands. She didn’t see that she had much of a choice. “Okay. I’ll go. Just … take it easy with that thing.” Returning to the Honda, she backed it up, but stopped before she reached the main road. She had no intention of leaving Suzanne alone.

“What do we do now?” asked Cordelia, sitting hunched in the backseat, her shirt pulled up over the lower part of her face. “I think this one’s above my pay grade, Janey.”

“Stay put,” said Jane. She ran back toward the cabin, ducking down, then crawling the last few feet before finally hiding behind the trunk of a pine tree. Up ahead, Suzanne and Branch were still talking.

“Gabriel told Jack what you did,” called Suzanne. She’d backed away from the door. The woman had guts, thought Jane, standing there with a shotgun pointed at her, speaking the truth to a man with his hand on the trigger—a man with very little left to lose.

“So it’s Jack’s word against mine,” called Branch. “What if he’s lying?”

“Why would he lie?”

“Because he’s a little shit. Because he hates me.”

“It’s not just your word against Jack’s. You’re forgetting about Gabriel.” She looked back over her shoulder, appeared to spot Jane, but gave no visible sign that she had. “Just let him talk to me. To know that he’s okay.”

“What about me?” yelled Branch. “Don’t you care how I am?”

“Sure. Yes. Of course I do.”

“This … mess,” called Branch. “It’s not all my fault, you know.”

Keep him talking, thought Jane.

“Why did you bring Gabriel here?” asked Suzanne.

“Why do you think? Where else could I go?”

“If you ever loved him—”

“Of course I love him.”

“Why don’t we all go home? I’ll make us dinner. There’s cold beer in the fridge. Let’s rewind the clock.”

“How I wish,” he called.

In the distance, Jane heard a siren. With each passing second, it grew louder.

“Oh, Jesus,” called Branch. “You called the police on me?”

“Honey, please. Be reasonable. If you’ll just let Gabriel come out—”

“Shut up!” he screamed. The barrel of the shotgun disappeared, replaced by a thinner barrel.

“What’s that?” asked Suzanne.

“A hunting rifle. With a scope. In case you’re interested, I’m a great shot.”

“Did you bring an arsenal with you?”

“What if I did? What are you going to do about it?”

Two police cruisers roared to a stop just before the clearing. Andrew was in the second car. Jane was glad to see that Steinhauser was driving the first. Crawling back toward them, she waited for the men to get out, then crouched down next to Steinhauser and said, “He’s got a shotgun. Looked like a twelve-gauge. And a hunting rifle.”

“Is Gabriel with him?”

“Yes.”

“You tell those cops to get out of here,” yelled Branch, firing off a shot to punctuate his demand.

Steinhauser pulled a megaphone out of the front seat of his cruiser. “Branch, this is Matt Steinhauser. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a situation here. I think we’d all like to keep this from getting out of hand. I understand you’ve got Gabriel in there with you.”

“Leave,” screamed Branch. “I’m done talking.”

“Branch, please,” called Suzanne. “You don’t want to hurt Gabriel.”

“I’ll go to prison,” he cried. “I’ll rot there for the rest of my life.” The rifle barrel disappeared.

“What are you doing?” asked Suzanne.

“Branch,” came Steinhauser’s voice again. “Would you let me come in? We may have had our differences, but you know I’ll give you a fair shake.”

“Branch?” called Suzanne. “What’s going on? Where did you go?” She charged up to the door and began banging on it again. “Branch, please. Let me in. I know we can work this out.”

“Something’s happening,” said Jane. She didn’t like the fact that he’d disappeared.

“We need to get in there,” said Steinhauser. He was conferring with the other two officers when the rifle barrel reappeared.

“So, let’s talk about forgiveness,” said Branch. His tone was more conversational now.

Suzanne backed up. “Are you going to use that thing on me?”

“Eric and Andrew,” he continued, ignoring her question. “They’re never going to forgive me. Neither will a judge or a jury. What about God? Will He forgive me?”

“Yes,” said Suzanne without hesitation. “If you’re sorry for what you’ve done.”

“Do you know that for a fact? You’re the one who doesn’t even believe in God anymore.” He waited. When she didn’t respond, he said. “What if I’m not sorry? What if I believe I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Branch, listen to me. I don’t know what God thinks or what He’ll do.”

“You are a freakin’ minister. You should know.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you.”

“You are. You’re not the woman I thought I married.”

“Honey?” she said, more softly this time. “Please. Don’t do this.”

He withdrew the gun.

“Let Gabriel come out to me. Please,” she begged.

“So that leaves us with one last question,” he called.

Jane didn’t like the finality of the comment. She crawled toward the edge of the clearing. Suzanne wasn’t more than fifteen yards away. She stood in the grass, looking so small, so thin, so desperate.

“Do you forgive me?” asked Branch.

Say yes, thought Jane. Just say it. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.

“Suzanne? Can you at least give me that much. Just say you forgive me.”

“I forgive you.”

“No you don’t. You never loved me.”

“That’s not true,” she cried. “I loved you with all my heart.”

Jane waited for the rifle to reappear.

“What’s he doing?” whispered Steinhauser.

A gunshot split the silence.

In an instant, the officers were up and rushing the cabin. Suzanne reached the door first, beating her arms against it, calling Gabriel’s name, crying for him to come to her. Jane got to her just as Steinhauser pulled her away. He held her back as the other two cops kicked the door in.

“I have to go in there,” she screamed, trying to buck and squirm out of Steinhauser’s arms.

In an instant, Andrew was by her side. “Let the cops make sure it’s safe.”

Since nobody was holding her back, Jane bolted inside. Branch was lying on his back on the bare wood floor. The wall behind him was covered with blood and what was left of the top of his head.

“Must have put that nine mil in his mouth,” said one of the officers, nodding to the gun a few feet from the body.

As Jane took in the scene, she felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. It took a few more seconds for the truth of the situation to sink in. Gabriel was nowhere in sight.

“Gabriel?” she called. With no furniture in the cabin, there was nowhere for him to hide.

“Where is he?” screamed Suzanne from outside, her voice hoarse. “Honey, come here. Gabriel, please. Come to me.”

Stepping back into the doorway, she saw that Suzanne was still struggling to get away from Steinhauser.

“Where is he?” she screamed. Seeing the look on Jane’s face, she stopped fighting.

“He’s not here.”

“He has to be,” said Suzanne. “Do you hear me? He has to be.”

Jane shook her head.

“No,” she cried, breaking away finally. She ran for the door, lunged through it. “Oh God,” she said, wincing at the sight, sinking to the floor. Covering her mouth with her hand, she said, “Oh, God, oh God, oh God.”

Andrew kneeled down next to her. He put his arms around her, held on as she wailed her son’s name.

Jane walked back to the edge of the woods, where Cordelia was standing next to one of the squad cars. “Gabriel’s not there.”

“Lord.”

“I know.”

“Now what?”

“This is a crime scene,” called Steinhauser, coming out of the cabin door. “I want everyone except the officers to clear the area. Immediately.”

*   *   *

The light was starting to fade as Steinhauser and his crew finally drove away. One of the officers had driven Andrew and Suzanne back to the farmhouse, while Jane and Cordelia—after much heated negotiations—were allowed to stay. It took the local coroner a good hour before he arrived and officially pronounced Branch dead. After that, the body was removed to a waiting van.

Cordelia had been chewing bubble gum madly for the last hour. She removed the last two lumps from her pocket and offered one to Jane.

“No thanks.”

“I guess we better go.”

“I guess.”

Cordelia’s cell phone rang. “Can you believe there’s cell phone service out here?” She glanced at the caller ID. “I need to take this. It’s Hattie.”

“I’m going to walk around. Let me know when you’re done. We should probably go find ourselves some dinner.”

She drifted toward the cabin. Following a dirt path that ran around the side of the property, she saw that there was a small deck jutting off the back. She walked up the rickety steps and stood for a few minutes looking up at the trees. It was a beautiful spot. Quiet. Hearing the sound of geese, she searched the sky until she located them.

Sometimes, she thought, no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t enough. It was easier being a restaurateur. At least, unless you poisoned someone, you weren’t dealing with life and death.

A rustling in the woods caught her attention. There, about ten yards away, was a deer moving slowly through the underbrush. She watched it until it disappeared. Lovely, she thought. So lovely.

That’s when she heard it. The muffled sound of crying. Hurrying down the steps, she crossed through a grassy patch, then stood for another moment, listening, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.

She plunged deeper into the brush, jumping over a downed tree, pushing branches out of her way.

And then she saw him. “Gabriel?” she called, a shiver rumbling through her.

He was huddled next to a rock.

She didn’t want to spook him. Moving tentatively forward, she said, “Gabriel? Do you remember me? My name is Jane. Are you okay?”

His eyes were hooded and dark as they gazed up at her.

“What are you doing out here?” She crouched down.

“Branch. He told me to run.”

“‘To run,’” she repeated. “When did he do that?”

“Few hours ago. He said not to come back. To run straight and I’d get to a highway. But I got lost. And then I saw the cabin. I didn’t mean to come back. Honest.”

“It’s okay,” said Jane. He reminded her of a wounded animal. Skittish. Frightened. “It’s fine,” she said gently. “I’m glad you came back.”

“You are?”

“Absolutely.”

He touched a cut on his arm.

“How’d you get that?”

Looking scared, he said, “A knife. It was an accident. Could you … I mean, I need to get home.”

She held out her hand. “I can take you. I know where you live. I even know your mother, Suzanne.”

“What about … Branch?”

“He won’t be there.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. He won’t be coming back.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“You know my mom?”

“She’ll be so happy to see you.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do,” said Jane, feeling an overwhelming rush of tenderness when she smiled at him. “Seeing you is going to make her the happiest woman in the world.”