Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(34)

By five, Mike came in, and of course he went immediately to Brie. He had a beer while she finished hers and then they had their dinner together. He talked a little about driving around to the surrounding towns, trying to get to know people, learning how they spent their time and whether they had any concerns with which he could assist. He was beginning to get a sense of what they needed in a community policeman and found it to be like having any neighborhood beat in a city. It was not long after dinner that David began to fuss, needing that bedtime change and bottle.

“I have to go,” she said, getting up and taking the baby’s stroller in hand.

He stood, as well. “Would you like some company tonight?” he asked.

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to concentrate on my job.” She smiled. “When Mom and Dad get back, maybe we could do something.”

“We’ll find something fun,” he said with a smile. “It might not be too early to see the whales—they should be migrating south pretty soon.”

“Maybe we should try that,” she said.

When Brie took David home, the first thing that struck her was that it was very dark. She hadn’t left any lights on at the cabin and although it was only about seven, the night was quickly descending. The towering trees that surrounded the clearing cast long shadows. This place had always given her such a sense of peace and safety, it surprised her to be set on edge like this. She tried to ignore the anxiety it created in her and talked to the baby, as if he were company enough. “Come on, buster. Let’s get you settled. You had a good day, didn’t you? Yes, you did.”

Then there was that matter of the door having been left unlocked; she felt her heart skip a few beats. But she went inside, flipped on lights and locked the front door. She went to the back door and locked it. Her first two nights there had been so restful and tranquil, it had never occurred to her she’d be nervous tonight. Then, despite the fact that David fussed unhappily, she put him in his bed and retrieved her 9 mm handgun from her purse. Gun in hand, she searched the cabin, anxious to put her mind at ease. Inside closets, under beds, up in the loft. It didn’t take long to find it empty of threats, thank goodness, because her nephew was getting loud and impatient in his crib. She put the gun on the nightstand beside her bed and tended to his needs. She changed him and warmed the breast milk that had been left for her by Mel.

It bothered her that there were no blinds or shutters to close over the windows. But why would Mel and Jack have bothered, out here in the forest? Who was to peek in the windows besides a bear? This hadn’t bothered her last night or the night before. Still, it caused Brie to fidget and continually glance around at the uncovered windows. Then she realized she had not spent a night alone since June.

“You have to do it sometime. You have to get beyond this,” she said aloud to herself.

Once David was changed, fed and put in his crib, she couldn’t imagine what she was going to do with herself, sitting in the little living room of that cabin, feeling as if anyone could look in, the TV fuzzy because Mel and Jack had never bothered to get a satellite dish. So she turned off the lights, and in the dark she undressed for bed. She put on a lightweight but concealing sweat suit, remembering with some longing the days when she’d slept in the buff, confident and unafraid. She hadn’t slept in the nude since that night. Even though it wasn’t yet eight o’clock, she got into bed. Her heart was beating too fast and she talked to herself—there’s no one out here who wants to hurt you. You’re isolated in the woods—no one even knows you’re here.

Brie lay on her back, her arms folded across her stomach, her gun on the bedside table. She forced her eyes closed for a minute, then two minutes, then longer if she could. It seemed forever before her pulse slowed and she relaxed a little; every sound the wind made caused her to tremble. If I can just make it through one night, I can make it through another, she told herself. She looked at the bedside clock at eight-fifteen, eight-thirty, eight forty-five.

At some point she dozed off, but later she was jolted awake by a fright. She gasped, sat straight up in the bed and realized she was sweating, panting, her heart hammering. She grabbed up the gun and held it out in front of her, pointing it toward the bedroom door. She listened intently. There was a whistling and soft moaning; the wind through the pines. There was a slight muffled sound coming from David’s bedroom and she got out of bed, gun in hand, muzzle pointed to the ceiling, and crept into his bedroom to be sure there was no one there. David squirmed around in his sleep, nestling into the bedding, dreaming.

Oh, God, she thought. I’m creeping around my baby nephew with a loaded gun! Tears stung her eyes. I’m a basket case, she thought.

She went into the dark kitchen, picked up the phone and called Mike. When he answered, she said in a breath, “I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

“What’s happening?” he asked, alert.

“Nothing. Nothing that I know of. The doors are locked, I’ve checked the house, but I’m prowling around here with a loaded gun in my hand. I’m completely nuts.”

“Can you put that gun down, please,” he said calmly. “I will be there in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” she answered tremulously, feeling that she had somehow failed. Failed her brother and Mel, failed herself.

“Please, put it aside, and I will come.”

“Okay,” she said again. But she didn’t put it aside. She slipped down onto the kitchen floor and sat there against the cabinets in the corner, from where she could see the rest of the kitchen. If anyone came at her, she could shoot him. And then she thought, my God, it’s a good thing David can’t walk! Right now she would shoot anything that moved; she was wired enough to shoot at nothing and a ricocheted bullet could hurt or even kill the baby! She tried to keep her finger relaxed along the barrel and away from the trigger, repeating in her mind, do not act unless you’re sure. Do not.