Mr. Serious Page 8

  The knot in his stomach returned. “We’ll be right there. Is Dad with you?”

  “Yeah, he’s here.”

  “Good.” He took Christina by the hand, led her back to the truck and started the engine. “Don’t go outside the house. We found out that Alli may be in Mystery and...well, who knows what she’s capable of. You both need to stay safe.”

  * * *

  THE TRUCK BUMPED down the dirt road that led out of the back forty as Waylon tried to steer around the abundant ruts in the road. It was no wonder they’d closed these cabins down—once the snow started to fall, these roads would be nearly impassable. One bad decision, one ill-prepared couple trying to drive down it in more than a few inches of snow, and without a doubt the ranch would have another mess on their hands. People constantly underestimated Montana’s wild power. She was a fickle beast. One minute it could be sunny and hot, and the next it could be snowing, with hypothermia a legitimate threat.

  Alli had always hated living here, a place with such extremes, but maybe it was because she was already living with more than enough extremes within herself. She couldn’t compete with another thing like her.

  When they got back to the main house, every light was on, even the strands of Christmas lights that ran down the fences and around the barn’s windows. If the circumstances had been different, he would have said the place looked beautiful with its array of greens and reds, but as things stood, the cast of the red lights on the bone-white fence posts only reminded him of spilled blood.

  Eloise stood at the bay window, watching out for them. She was hugging herself, and as she spotted them, she turned and called out behind her. His father came to the window and gave them a small, relieved wave.

  He hadn’t seen his parents scared before, especially not his father. The man was the picture of steely resolve. He was the kind of man who’d spent many a night pulling calves, only to watch them pass in his arms. Even before his years on the ranch, he’d seen so much tragedy and death thanks to his years in Vietnam. He didn’t talk about his time spent in the jungles. The one time Merle had even mentioned it had been after a night of heavy drinking, when he’d told a story of men in his unit stealing the gold teeth of the dead. It had made Waylon’s skin crawl. Yet it was also the moment that he’d realized he needed to serve his country.

  His father had been through hell and back. He was a hero. Even as a young man, Waylon had known that was what he wanted to be as well. He wanted to right the wrongs of the generations before him. He wanted to make the world a better place. And, thanks to his dark past and the demons that filled his soul, he found an insatiable need to protect those who didn’t have the power or the strength to protect themselves.

  He had wanted nothing more than to follow in his father’s footsteps. And though he’d found himself deep behind enemy lines in Iraq, and coming under fire to protect those he’d been ordered to serve, he’d never really felt like a hero. It was strange, but most of the time he felt like nothing more than an impostor.

  It was all thanks to Alli.

  He had promised to stay by her side, to keep her safe in a world that promised a million forms of danger and pain, yet when push came to shove, he had left her in the middle of Montana.

  He gave a cynical chuckle at the thought. He was no hero. Heroes didn’t run away.

  His father pulled his mother into his arms and smoothed her gray hair. It was perhaps the most touching thing he’d ever seen his father do, to put aside his strong exterior and put the needs of the one he loved the most before his own.

  Perhaps true love wasn’t found in strength, but rather in moments of weakness. Moments in which the soul lay bare, when fears and insecurities were open for the world to witness and judge. Those who truly loved each other didn’t disappear behind their masks of strength. No. Instead, they moved into each other’s arms and found all the support they needed there.

  As they got out of the truck, his mother and father rushed outside to them. “What took you so long?” Eloise pressed.

  Waylon glanced down at his watch. It had taken them only ten minutes of speeding down logging roads to get back, yet she was acting as though it was a lifetime.

  “Did something else happen?” he asked.

  His mother shook her head.

  “Eloise,” his father said, taking his mom by the hand, “don’t be upset with him.”

  “How can I not be upset with him? He and his brother didn’t bother to tell me that they had taken Winnie. You know how I feel about our children going missing.”

  He had nearly forgotten about the time Rainier’s biological mother had kidnapped his brother. Rainier had maybe been eight or nine. His mother had shown up in the night, pulled him from his bed, and no one had realized he was missing until the morning. They had all thought the precocious boy had simply found his way out into the expanses of the ranch, but after turning over every rock, they hadn’t found him.

  Eloise had been beyond distraught. He’d never been able to forget watching her fall to her knees on the floor of the living room and dissolve into sobs when she had realized what had happened.

  It had taken nearly two weeks, and dozens of law enforcement officers searching, but they had eventually found his brother and brought him back to the ranch. Ever since, his mother had been adamant about knowing the comings and goings of all their four children and any foster kids that were in their care. He was sure her need for that type of control was out of her misplaced guilt from letting his brother fall into the wrong hands. If something had really happened to Winnie, he would have felt the same way—and just as culpable.

  “I’m sorry. It slipped my mind,” Waylon said, truly humbled by his error. He could only imagine the terror that must have filled her when she came home to the scene.

  Eloise nodded, but the fear and anger on her face remained. “I swear, I almost had a heart attack. I don’t ask much, but if you’re going to be around here, you need to follow the rules.”

  He had no problem following the rules—his life was dictated by them—but all he could think of was that he wouldn’t really be here long enough to worry about them. A deep sadness filled him as he realized he had only a few days of leave left, and then he would have to return to his world of ACUs and PT—a world of acronyms—and a far cry from the ranch.

  He pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn’t have feelings. He didn’t have a life that allowed for them.

  “And make sure that you guys close the doors when you are coming and going.”

  “We did. I swear,” Christina said. “I even locked them.”

  “Wait.” Waylon stared. “Were the doors open when you came home?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did anyone come in the house? Any staff or guests that you know of?”

  “We don’t have any guests staying. Not since...” Eloise didn’t bother finishing her sentence. “And there were only a couple of the hands around. However, when we got home, they had only just returned after taking a couple of the horses for a trail ride. When they got back, they said they saw an open door.”

  “And they didn’t think to close it?” Christina asked.

  Eloise shook her head. “You know the trainers. Some of them may have actually been born in a barn.”

  Christina and Merle laughed, but all Waylon could think about was the fact that someone, maybe even Alli, had been inside the house after they had left.

  “Did you call the police and report a break-in?” he asked.

  “No, I wanted to check in with you guys first.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and call Wyatt and he can get in touch with his crew. In the meantime, I’ll take a look inside. Did you touch anything?”

  His father shook his head. “We just went inside, realized someone had definitely been in there and then waited for you to get
here. I already called Wyatt. He’s on his way.”

  “Good,” Waylon said. “I’ll be right back. If Wyatt gets here, let him know I’m inside.” He took a few steps toward the house.

  “You aren’t going in alone,” Christina said, hurrying to catch up.

  He smiled. He wasn’t sure if she was coming with him because she didn’t think he could do the job or if it was because she wanted to be with him, but regardless, he was happy to have her company.

  Aside from the open front door, everything in the living room was in its place, and it looked as though nothing had been disturbed—at least that he could tell. As they made their way down the hallway and toward the bedrooms, it was a different story. Winnie’s bedroom light was on, casting a finger of light into the hallway, where the toys spilled out of the room. A blue teddy bear that had been on Winnie’s bed the night before looked unnervingly out of place in the hall, its beady black eyes peering down the hallway toward them like some terrified witness to an unspeakable crime.

  “Wyatt still has Winnie, doesn’t he?” Christina asked, almost as though she were as unsettled by the reality in front of them as he was.

  “Yes, they have her. She’s safe,” he said, but as he spoke, a new sense of urgency to find Alli and put her behind bars welled within him. They couldn’t live like this—no one should live their life in fear for their or their loved ones’ safety. If he didn’t hurry, they would have to continue on in this terrifying reality.

  Winnie’s room was destroyed. Toys were scattered everywhere, pictures had been pulled off the walls and even her bedding had been pulled back and thrown to the floor. The sight of her discarded bedding made the hair rise on his arms. Maybe it was the fact that the bed was a place of safety for children—where even he had pulled the sheets over his head when he’d been afraid of monsters—but the sight was chilling.

  “Thank God we had gotten her out of here,” Christina said, her voice flecked with terror.

  “Why would Alli turn over her daughter’s room? What do you think she could have been looking for?”

  Christina chewed on her bottom lip, and her gaze moved to the closet. She hurried to the small door and, pulling it open, lifted a black fireproof safe off the top shelf. Someone had left it unlocked. She set the safe on the floor and opened the lid. Inside was a collection of papers, most of which looked like deeds and a car title. She riffled through the papers, taking them out and gently stacking them on the floor.

  “What are you looking for?” Waylon asked, squatting down beside her.

  “Alli and I...there was only one thing our grandmother left us. We are the only ones who knew about it,” she said, only half explaining her maniacal digging and stacking.

  “What is it?”

  She stopped for a brief second and looked up at him. “My grandmother left me a three-carat diamond ring. It’s flawless. Cushion cut. Inlaid sapphires around it. It’s beautiful.”

  “You had a three-carat diamond ring in a lockbox in a two-year-old’s bedroom?”

  She frowned and gave him an are-you-kidding-me kind of a look. “Don’t judge me. It was in a safe at the main house—I thought this would be the safest place.”

  He hadn’t meant to make her defensive or to comment on anything that had to do with their child-care choices.

  “That’s not it,” he said, trying to deescalate the situation as much as he could. “I’m just surprised you didn’t keep it in your bedroom, is all.”

  The look on her face disappeared, and she seemed to relax slightly. “In truth, I haven’t thought about the ring in a long time. My grandmother wanted me to have it as my engagement ring someday. It’s beautiful, but I never thought I’d use it, so I just tucked it away in the lockbox in hopes that one day Winnie would get it.”

  “You thought you’d never use the ring?” The thought that Christina didn’t think she would get married surprised him. She was beautiful and smart—any man would be lucky to have her in his life.

  She went back to pulling out the last of the papers. In the corner was a small black velvet box, and Christina sighed with relief. “Whew. It’s still here,” she said, gingerly lifting the box out, as though a simple jarring could destroy the precious ring inside. “Maybe someday Winnie will have better luck than I have and she’ll actually get to use this thing.”

  “You have to have been in a serious relationship before.” He paused. “Wait, weren’t you with some guy? Steve or something? Weren’t you seeing him when Alli and I were dating? I thought she mentioned something about you guys.”

  Christina scowled at the sound of the man’s name. “Steve? I haven’t thought about him in years.” She spun the velvet box in her fingers. “He and I, we didn’t fit. You know?”

  He knew all too well about not really fitting with a person he loved. “Did you love him?” The moment the question left his lips, he felt strange for asking. It really wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t resist the urge to know more about her.

  She looked up, staring at him in silence for a moment as though she were trying to understand exactly why he’d asked her and how she would respond. “I... It’s not that easy,” she started, then looked back down at the box.

  “It’s okay to have loved someone and lost them.”

  “That’s not it.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how much my sister told you about our parents, but let’s just say they weren’t the best examples when it came to what a healthy relationship should be. They were constantly fighting. Then they’d cheat.” She spun the box again like it was a talisman that could keep the dark thoughts at bay. “I just never wanted to have a relationship like theirs.”

  “So you push people away?”

  She sent him the sexiest guilty smile he’d seen in all of his life. “So Alli told you a few things about me, did she?”

  He laughed, the sound echoing off the empty bedroom walls. “Actually, she didn’t. I picked up that little gem on my own.”

  She laughed, and the sound was so unexpected and beautiful that he held his breath, as though if he moved, her laughter would vanish just as quickly as it had appeared, like some skittish animal.

  “I don’t know how you got there, but there are some things I guess I can’t deny. It’s just,” she said, smiling at him, “well, I don’t want to waste my time falling in love with the wrong man.”

  Was she talking about him? Was she falling in love with him, or was she implying that she wouldn’t fall in love with him because she didn’t want to waste her time?

  The thought made his head hurt. Women made everything so complicated. If she liked him—or didn’t, for that matter—she could have just said it. She didn’t have to dance around the attraction that seemed to simmer between them.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t about to fall on that sword by saying something. Clearly she wasn’t interested in him. He stood up and started toward the door, unsure of exactly what to do other than to go.

  “Wait.” He turned around as a thought crossed his mind. He motioned to the ring box. “Look inside.”

  The box clicked as she pulled it open. She let out a long, raspy breath as though someone had punched her in the gut. “No. She didn’t.”

  Christina turned the box so he could see. There was nothing inside. Once again, they were left with only questions.

  Chapter Ten

  Why would Alli ever steal the only possession that meant anything to her? Christina kept her tears in check, but they threatened to spill over her resolve at any second. It was all too much.

  Christina clicked the box closed and dumped it back in the safe. The lockbox slid off her lap and onto the floor. It would have been more prudent to be more careful, as she sat in the middle of a crime scene. Yet, at the same time, she was so beyond caring. She had been through so much emotional upheaval lately, it
was almost as if this all had beaten her to the point of numbness.

  She looked at the black rectangular box. They wouldn’t have been able to pull prints from the box, but maybe the police could pull some off the other items in the room. Then again, she doubted they would even try. The only people who knew about that ring were her and her sister. It wasn’t much of a mystery who had taken it—the only question that remained was why her sister would have been so ruthless.

  “Did Wyatt check out your sister’s bank accounts?” Waylon asked, pulling her back to the wreckage that surrounded her.

  She nodded. “He’s been monitoring it, but nothing has been drawn since the day she disappeared.”

  “Did she empty them out before she left, or take out any large sums of money?”

  “What large sums? Alli was living hand to mouth—basically everything she made went to Winnie.”

  “I had been paying her alimony. Didn’t she save any of that money?” he asked, his face was pinched as though he was thinking about all the money he’d given to her since their divorce.

  Christina shrugged. “I don’t know what my sister did with her money. I didn’t have anything to do with that part of her life. But having Winnie was hard on her, both emotionally and financially.”

  Waylon’s mouth opened and closed as if he had an idea but wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her exactly what he was thinking.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Just tell me why you are standing there guppying. There’s nothing you can possibly say that I probably haven’t already thought about my sister—especially after everything that’s happened lately.”

  “Do you think that any of this has something to do with her mental health? Or do you think maybe she wanted the ring for herself? Maybe she was jealous?”

  “Are you implying that you think my sister is crazy?” She tried to sound mad, but the numbness she felt made her voice flat.

  “Not that harsh, but you know. She was having affairs when we were together. Maybe she was depressed about this thing with William dissolving. It could have sent her off the deep end and made her think everything and everybody is fair game.”