Alaskan Courage: Silenced Part 26

Thank you, Jesus, for sparing her.

Losing Becca had been devastating; losing Kayden would have destroyed him.

29.

Jake opened the door to Kayden's room, his heart in his throat. Why was he suddenly so anxious again? Doc Graham had a.s.sured them she'd be just fine. No, these nerves were coming from an entirely different place. He was excited to see the woman he loved, and the fireb.a.l.l.s rumbling through his gut proved it.

"There he is," Gage said, catching sight of him first.

Kayden sat up in the bed, a white bandage fastened across her forehead, a cast on her right leg. She looked battered, but beautiful, as always.

"Hey," she said, a soft smile curling on her lips.

Man, what that smile did to his insides. "Hey." He tried to ignore the fact that everyone in the room was fixated on their interaction. "How you holding up?"

She s.h.i.+fted and winced. "I've been better, but it could have been way worse if you hadn't been there."

"I didn't do much." Other than fear the woman he loved was about to be ripped from his life and regret that he'd never even told her how he felt. Though he suspected she knew. He glanced around the room at everyone watching them. They all knew.

"We both know that's not true."

"If you weren't there, who knows how long it would have taken someone to find her," Reef said. "She could have . . ." He stopped and shook his head. "It could have been really bad. Thank you." He shook Jake's hand, and all the McKennas and their loved ones thanked him in turn. But none melted his heart like Kayden's thank-you. Two simple words and a world of meaning.

"Anything for you."

Color infused her pale cheeks. Had he actually said that out loud? Heat rushed his cheeks.

He caught Gage grinning, but to his shock, Gage left it at that.

"Well, I should, um . . ." He cleared his throat. "Let you get some rest." She needed rest.

She nodded, the slight smile still hovering on the curve of her supple lips.

He backed up, straight into something solid. Gage.

"You all right there?" Gage grinned.

"Fine." He tried to look and sound as fierce as possible, but Gage wasn't buying any of it.

"Can I talk to you?" Landon asked as Jake stepped past Gage.

"Absolutely."

"Let's go outside."

"All right." He followed Landon down the flight of stairs and back out to the parking lot where they'd stood several hours earlier.

"What was that all about?" Landon asked with a gigantic grin.

Not him too. "Nothing."

"'Anything for you' doesn't sound like nothing." Landon folded a piece of gum into his mouth, the scent of spearmint wafting in the air. "I saw the way you two looked at each other."

Two? As in Kayden was looking back at him the same way? No way. He knew she was intrigued by him now that she knew his past, but looking at him with love . . . ? No way.

"I know you don't see it, but she's as into you as you are into her."

"Yeah, right."

"Trust me."

The thought engulfed him with audacious hope.

"Want a piece?" Landon offered him a stick of gum.

"Thanks." He took a piece and popped it into his mouth, realizing it was the first food he'd eaten since breakfast, if gum counted as food.

He turned to toss the wrapper in the trash can, and a woman caught his eye. She was leaning against the grill of a car, her legs crossed genteelly. Her dark-brown hair was pulled back in a twist. She wore a navy-and-white polka-dot blouse, tan A-line skirt with matching heels, and tortoisesh.e.l.l sungla.s.ses.

She slid the sungla.s.ses down her nose momentarily and smiled when he caught her eye.

"Jake, you okay?" Landon asked.

"Yeah." He looked back at his friend, his mind racing. "She just looked familiar."

"Who?" Landon scanned the parking lot.

"That woman by . . ." He looked back to where she'd been standing, but she was gone. "Never mind. That's not important. Any news on Patty Tate?"

"Yeah." Landon rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, man, but Patty Tate has a solid alibi for the rockslide."

"What?"

"She's been at the station all day long. Th.o.r.eau said she's been sitting around, refusing to leave. Visiting with Shane during the approved hours and hara.s.sing my deputies to let him go the rest of the time."

"Then she staged it ahead of time."

"Shane's defense lawyer said he was with her all day yesterday, going over Shane's defense. She took him around to every witness he wanted to interview. He bunked in her guest room last night. Besides, even if she'd set it up ahead of time, she would have to have been there to trigger it just as Kayden reached the ledge. She couldn't have done it."

"No. There's got to be some mistake."

"It could have just been a freak rockslide. These things happen."

"There's more to it. I can feel it."

"Then let's head back out there and see if we can find any evidence of staging. We've got a handful of hours of daylight left."

"All right." He nodded, needing to do something. Needing to get whoever did this to Kayden. "Let's go."

Jake approached the scene of the rockslide, trying to be objective but knowing, when it came to Kayden, objective was the last thing he could truly be.

"Check this out," Landon said, indicating an area just above the ledge.

"Looks like rocks might have been stacked here." In a conveniently placed pile.

They both turned, looking for something that could have been used for a lever.

"Here," Landon said, slipping on gloves and lifting a long stick, two inches in diameter. "This could have easily done the trick. We can hope for fingerprints, though with the rough surface and public nature of the area, chances we'd get anything are slim."

"But you agree it's obvious the rockslide was staged."

"Sure looks that way."

"Rocks don't stack themselves at the top of a rise. This was Patty's doing."

"It couldn't have been Patty. She's got an ironclad alibi."

"Then she got one of her climbing pals to do it for her. Or she hired someone to do it. I'm telling you, Patty's the only person who makes sense." Who else would want to hurt Kayden? The thought left a hollow ache in his gut.

30.

Jake heard sc.r.a.ping. No, that wasn't quite right. It was the sound of . . . shoveling, of dirt being tossed onto a pile.

Why was someone digging so late at night? The moon was barely a slit in the sky, leaving little to see by.

The ground was moist beneath his bare feet. It had rained recently. He could smell it in the air.

A flashlight lay on the ground, illuminating a hole-a large hole. The shovel appeared at the top, and a shovelful of muddy earth flung onto the pile nearby.

Who was in the hole?

He stepped toward it, making out Angela Mark.u.m standing over what he realized was a grave.

Her husband crawled from it, and they rolled something in-someone wrapped in a blue tarp.

They didn't acknowledge his presence, just kept at work, now refilling the hole, flinging the heavy earth on top of the body.

He rushed forward, needing to see Candace Banner's face before they sealed it away forever.

He raced to the edge, pulling up fast to avoid slipping in.

The harsh glare of the LED flashlight illuminated the woman's face, and bile rose in his throat. Becca?

He stumbled for purchase. They'd killed Becca. He'd known it wasn't a random hit-and-run, and this proved it. They'd murdered Becca and their precious baby.

Composing himself, he leaned over again, wanting one last look at his wife, but horror engulfed him at the sight of Kayden. Her exquisite face pale in death, earth quickly covering it with every shovelful tossed in. Her eyes were no longer visible, her nose going next, now her lips. Nothing was left to see of her face-only damp, dark earth burying the woman he loved.

"Kayden!" He shot up in bed, a cold sweat piercing his heated skin.

Angela Mark.u.m. Wife of the college president who'd killed the young co-ed, Becca, and their baby. Her hair was darker, her sungla.s.ses hiding her eyes except for the briefest of moments, but that's who the woman in the parking lot reminded him of.

But it couldn't be her. Angela Mark.u.m was still in prison, serving a ten-year sentence for perjury, obstruction of justice, and helping her husband dispose of the co-ed's body.

He threw off the covers and climbed from his bunk. The waters were choppier tonight, and he stumbled as he moved for the galley to pour himself a cup of cold water.

Bracing his free hand against the counter, he took a long draught, letting the cold water quench the heat burning inside.

It couldn't be her.

His heart still racing, he lay back down, staring at the cracked-open hatch overhead, a gentle summer breeze wafting through the slit.

Seeing Kayden injured had brought memories of Becca dead on the road flooding back, which obviously was bringing the Mark.u.m case back to mind-that was all. Not to mention his certainty that Patty was responsible but being unable to prove it-just as with Becca's. .h.i.t-and-run death. He'd been certain Joel Mark.u.m was responsible for his wife and daughter's deaths but had been unable to prove it. The similarities were there, enough to tug at his subconscious. He needed to settle down. He was overreacting. Angela Mark.u.m was still in prison.

He lay for hours, tossing, turning, trying to force himself to sleep, but to no avail.

Angela Mark.u.m had vowed revenge on him for his part in destroying her perfect life, as she sickly saw it. What if she'd escaped? What if . . . ?

Enough. He grabbed his cell off the nightstand. There was an easy way to put this to rest. He'd call his old partner and confirm that Angela Mark.u.m was still behind bars. The day was already in full swing in Boston.

Sam answered on the third ring. "Barnett."

"Hey, Sam. It's Jake."

"Jake? Where on earth have you been?"

"Here and there." It had been easier to leave his old life behind when no one in it knew where he was.

"You doing okay? It's been too long, man."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just needed some s.p.a.ce and time to clear my head."

"A reporter from California called about you last winter. She told me she had met you and that you were okay, but she didn't seem to know where you were-or at least wasn't willing to tell me. I gave her some information about the Mark.u.m case . . . and about you. I hope that's okay."

"Sure, no problem. It worked out all right. In fact, that's why I'm calling."

"Oh?"