Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

He had to be stopped.

Dealing with Traverton’s cautious approach had been an exercise in teeth-grinding frustration. But there was a state trooper post just off the highway. He had nothing to lose by stopping in to find out what the detective had told them, and to ask about any plans for a search.

Minutes later he pulled into their parking lot, went inside the station, and told the desk officer what he wanted. “Your timing’s perfect, Mr. Wolf,” she said. “Sergeant Packard was just about to have me call you. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

When she buzzed him, Packard came out front. Like John, he was Tlingit. But he was in his fifties and wore his hair short. The two were casual acquaintances, on good terms.

“John!” He extended his hand. “I heard about your crash on the news. Glad you made it out in one piece.”

“Thank you.” John accepted the handshake. “I wish I could say the same for my plane. You were going to call me?”

“That’s right.” Packard led the way back to his office. “I was on the phone with Detective Traverton yesterday. He told me about your friend’s trouble with Boone Swenson and sent me photos of the evidence you found at the trailer site.” Packard perched on the edge of his desk. “I’ll cut to the chase. Given what we’ve seen and heard, we think an investigation is justified. We’re putting together a search team, with a dog, to check out the site tomorrow. Since you’re familiar with the place, it would be helpful if you’d agree to go along.”

John’s pulse skipped. Finally something was happening. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help,” he said.

“Then be here at six tomorrow morning, ready to go. Can you manage that?”

“I’ll be here.”

* * *

John felt a surge of optimism as he turned off the highway onto Revilla Road. At last there was a chance of finding enough evidence against Boone to put him away. He thought about sharing the news with Emma while he still had phone service. But it was early yet. She’d stayed awake much of the night watching over him. Let her rest. He would call her later, after he’d been to the cabin.

He was thinking about her, remembering how she’d felt in his arms, when his cell phone rang. For an instant he thought it might be Emma. But he was wrong. When he saw the caller ID, he braked and pulled off onto the side of the road before he answered.

“What is it, Marlena? Is David all right?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” John couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken with her, but the desperate fury in her voice was unmistakable. “Last night he sneaked out of the house and went to a party. The police brought him home. He was . . .” She choked on the word. “He was drunk!”

John stifled a groan. “Where is he now? Is he safe?”

?

?He’s still in bed, sleeping it off. This is all your doing!”

“Marlena, I didn’t see him or talk to him last night. And even if I had, you know I’d never let him touch alcohol.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was always afraid he’d grow up to be like you. That’s why I’ve kept you away from him all these years. But it didn’t make any difference. He’s your son. He’s got your blood. He’s going to be a drunk just like his father!”

John remembered what Emma had told him, about the blowup between David and his mother. “Is that what you told him? That he had my blood and was going to grow up like me? What did he say to that?”

“He said that was fine with him. Then he went in his room and slammed the door. He went to school the next day, but I kept him home from work. I didn’t think it was a good place for him to be. He went to his room after dinner, to do his homework and play computer games, he said. The next thing I knew, it was after midnight and the police had him at the door. Carl’s in denial, says it’s up to me to deal with this, and I don’t know what to do. . . .”

Her voice broke. John could tell she was crying. Marlena was a good woman. She’d struggled to move past a horrific family background and a bad marriage. He couldn’t fault her need for total control. But it was a given that David would rebel at some point. He could only wish it hadn’t been in such a self-destructive way, and that his own troubled past hadn’t been partly to blame.

“What do you want me to do, Marlena?” he asked.

There was a beat of silence. “I want you to hurt!” she said. “I want you to hurt like I’m hurting. I want you to blame yourself and know that there’s nothing you can do.”

John had been thinking. “There’s something that might make a difference. If you’ll let me spend some time with him tonight, I can try it.”

She hesitated. “After so many years of keeping him away from you, I don’t know if I can. . . .”

“You can’t go back and make things like they were before,” John said. “If you close your eyes and pretend this didn’t happen, he’ll do it again. You know he will.”

“Tell me, and then I’ll decide,” she said.

“All right, here’s what I have in mind. . . .”