Shattered Secrets (Cold Creek #1)(33)

“Then perhaps you’ve heard I don’t intend to stay long. I only want to spend time with my cousin’s family, sell my house and head back home. If I’m such a liability, you could buy my house and land—take up a community offering—to get me out of here quickly.”

“Now, I know you’ve been through the mill, your family too. But as mayor, I’m charged with protecting the greater good. Sorry I came on so strong.”

He edged around the table toward her. “I knew your father, you see. The day you disappeared he should have been sticking closer to home.”

“He was working that day. Out of town.”

He made a snorting sound. “I don’t want you and Gabe to get so close you start thinking you’re on this case too. Bad enough having Agent Reingold back in everyone’s hair. Just keep clear of the investigation and Gabe. Those who don’t pay attention to history are condemned to repeat it. This is police business and mine too.”

“I see you make it your business to know everyone’s business. And why, if you want this case—cases—solved, don’t you want all the help you can get, Agent Reingold’s, mine, anyone’s?”

“Don’t you go getting snippy with me,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “Like I said, I’m thinking of you too. In other words, don’t you and Gabe go repeating the sins of the parents, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, well, here’s your daddy’s phone number out Oregon way if you’re so big on reunions,” he said, digging in his jacket pocket. “And speaking of that, here’s hoping that crazy Bright Star Monson doesn’t suck you into his cult like he did your cousins.”

Before she could tell him that he ought to find a way to get the Hear Ye community out of the area instead of her, he stopped shuffling toward her, cocked his head and backtracked.

“I hear the others coming and I want to know how they did,” he said, and hurried from the room.

Tess slumped back in her chair. How had that man been elected, over and over, for at least two decades? He was obnoxious and kind of creepy.

She picked up the small piece of lined paper the mayor had tossed on the table. The phone number had her father’s name, Jack Lockwood, scribbled in big, loopy writing.

Why did the mayor want her to call her father? Maybe her father wanted her to contact him because he was afraid to approach her after everything that had happened. Maybe he knew something that could help. But had the mayor suggested her father had done something wrong? Sins of the parents?

She heard muted voices down the hall and sat in her chair, waiting. Waiting for the scarecrow.

*

It was barely five minutes later when Gabe came into the room. He carried a large, clear plastic bag with him, but he kept it behind his hip. She gripped the edge of her chair seat and shifted back in it.

“Sorry if Mayor Owens bothered you. He says you were defiant and sassy—I like the sound of that.”

Tess looked at him instead of what he held. She knew he was teasing—was he flirting?—but she was too upset to respond to that.

“He did bother me,” she admitted. “I think he was implying my father knows more than has been said about the day I disappeared. He gave me his phone number.”

“I have it and may use it. But if the man hasn’t contacted any of you for years...”

“I just might let you call him, though I’ve thought of doing it myself many times. I’ll talk to my sister Char. She’s a social worker, good at those kinds of things...counseling and comforting. I meant to call her anyway.”

“Tess, Mike brought the scarecrow back. Want to have a look?”

“Not really. But it’s something important, I know it is. And I’m doing it for Sandy, Amanda, that second victim, Jill Stillwell too. It’s not just for me.”

“Okay,” he said. He closed the door behind him. Maybe he didn’t want the mayor or even Vic Reingold to hear her comments for some reason.

He came around the table and put the nearly two-foot-long bag down on it. Weren’t field scarecrows a lot bigger than that?

He smoothed the plastic to show the scarecrow clearly. He watched her face. She bucked back so hard her chair nearly tipped over. “It’s him! It’s him!” she shouted.

Gabe put a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s who, Tess? Who?”

“Mr. Mean,” she said, and burst into tears. “See his face? See how awful he is? It’s not me that’s bad, it’s him!”

Gabe grabbed the thing, threw it facedown on the floor and kneeled beside her chair. He pulled her into his arms, and held her.

“It’s all right,” he said, rocking her as if she were a child. And that’s what she felt like. A frightened child. The face on that thing—glaring eyes, frowning face, teeth showing. But not huge teeth like on the green monster.

“Tell me more about Mr. Mean,” Gabe said, his voice gentle. “He’s the one who hit you?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“But who made him hit you?”

“I did. If I was bad.”

“Tess, are you sure it wasn’t your mother or father who had Mr. Mean?”

“No—ask Kate and Char.”

“Okay, okay. But tell me about Mr. Mean.” His voice was soothing, coaxing. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”