Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

“Good, ’cause I ain’t invitin’ you. Anything you got to say, you can say it right there.”

“Fine,” John said. “I know you’re in touch with Boone, wherever he is. I just want you to give him a message.”

“Okay. Let’s have it.”

“Since he’s got a way of hearing things, he probably knows that I was with the state troopers when they found the body of his so-called bride. She was buried with a deer on top of her body to hide her remains.”

“So?”

“The troopers combed the place for evidence, but there was one thing they missed—something that can tie Boone to the murder. The deer was mostly hide and bones, but there was a bullet in it, plain as day. When the troopers were packing up, I went back, took a picture, and put the bullet in my pocket. If I turn it over to the police, they’ll run ballistics and match it to Boone’s gun—or if not that, they can match it to other bullets they found in the dirt around the trailer. That’ll nail him right to the wall.”

“So what do you want from Boone?”

“A trade. That bullet for his promise to leave Emma in peace. He can call me. He knows my number.”

“Hell, he’ll laugh in your face.”

“If he does, he’ll end up sorry. Just tell him. Got it?”

“Got it.” The door closed with a click.

John walked down the steps and back to the Jeep. He had lied. There might have been a bullet in the deer, but nobody had thought to check for it. John hadn’t come up with the idea until last night, after he’d taken Emma back to the hotel.

Finding a similar bullet to pass off to Boone wouldn’t be hard. There were probably some around the cabin from the game John had shot for meat.

Of course, he knew better than to think Boone would keep his promise to leave Emma alone. But that wasn’t the idea. The plan was to click the recorder on his phone and get Boone talking. With luck, by the time the exchange was made, he’d have a recorded confession.

Now that he thought about it, it struck him as a crazy idea, like something out of a bad TV crime show. He couldn’t begin to count the number of things that could go wrong. For all he knew, he could end up dead. But he had taken the first step. Now he had to see it through. He wouldn’t tell Emma about the plan until it was over. She would only worry.

He was halfway home when his phone signaled an incoming text. He pulled off the road to read it.

Mr. Wolf, please contact me about the recovery of your airplane. If you’re available for the next few days, I might be able to help you.

There was a phone number. John’s pulse leaped. The problem of getting the Beaver repaired had kept him awake nights. If this was a solution, he would have to go for it.

If need be, his plan to trap Boone would have to wait a few days. Getting his plane back had to come first.

* * *

Emma cleaned up after the lunch rush and took her break, such as it was. Since she’d promised John that she wouldn’t go out alone, she picked up the chicken sandwich the kitchen staff had made her, along with a cold soda, and took it upstairs to her room. Here, at least, she could eat in peace and quiet, put her feet up, and maybe do a little reading.

Part of her was counting the days until this work marathon was done. But with so many uncertainties hanging over her, she had no solid plan for what to do next. Should she look for a cheap apartment and another job, maybe as a substitute teacher or aide? Should she cut her strings here and fly back to the life she’d left behind? Could she count on staying with John, even though he had yet to mention that possibility?

Until Boone was out of the picture, there was no way she could make a decision.

John had called her last night. He’d gotten a text from a salvage dealer with a boat who could get him to his damaged plane with replacement parts and tools to do the work. The price was better than expected, but the man had other business and would only be available for the next couple of days, which meant John would need to leave first thing in the morning. He would be gone for at least two days, maybe longer. Again, he’d cautioned Emma to be careful and stay inside the hotel.

It was hard, having him gone at such a critical time. But Emma understood how much John depended on the Beaver for his work, and more. The plane was his lifeline to the sky and the freedom he loved. Without it, he was an eagle with broken wings. She couldn’t begrudge him the time it took to recover it.

A glance at the clock told her the break was over. David would be coming in soon to start his shift. She’d grown genuinely fond of John’s bright, cheerful son, but except for work chatter, they’d never had a chance to talk. She found herself wishing for a chance to know him better.

After washing her hands, she gathered up her plate, left the room locked, and went back downstairs.

The restaurant tended to be quiet at this time of day, between late lunch and early dinner. But as she crossed the lobby, she heard the sound of voices. One of them, a woman’s, was shrill with anger.

“You get on that phone and call her, Pearl! Get my daughter here right now! This is family business, and, damn it, she’s family!”

Emma’s first impulse was to stay where she was. But that wasn’t her job. Pushing aside a dark premonition, she walked through the connecting door.