Shattered Read online

  “Calm down? My son is missing! I call the chief and give him the scenario, and he sends out Dudley Do-Right! What am I supposed to do?”

  “He’s my son too, Michael.”

  “Then how come you’re just sittin’ there like he’s playing ball or somethin’? He’s been gone hours. It’s pitch black out there, not to mention freezing!”

  “He always comes home. Sorry you had to come out, Officer Sanders.” Beth’s narrow brown eyes looked up at the young police officer. He looked about fifteen himself. His purple braces didn’t help matters.

  “Does he have a computer?” Officer Sanders asked.

  “Yes. Why?” asked Beth.

  “Have you looked through his e-mail for anything unusual? We should take a look at it anyway. Even if he’s trashed his messages, we have ways of getting them back.”

  “We don’t have the Internet,” Beth replied. “He only has games.”

  “Okay. Well then, I’ll file the report, ma’am. We’ll find him if he’s out there—won’t get too far in this storm. Are you headed back to the station, Lieutenant?”

  “Yeah, suppose I’ll check in. Then I’ll be drivin’ around town myself. You’ll call my cell if he comes home?” This he directed at Beth.

  “Of course.”

  The young officer followed Michael out the door. Beth watched as both backed their snow-covered cars slowly out of the driveway, then she put her face in her work-worn hands and softly cried.

  CHA­PT­­ER­ 2

  Jessie was swallowing her last marshmallow when the electricity went out. “Oh, great.”

  “Hey, where’s the flashlight that’s always been in this drawer?” Ryan called from the kitchen moments later.

  “I moved it to the cupboard above the sink. I’ll get it. I know right where it is.” The glow of the fire created a flickering path toward the kitchen. Jessie pushed open the door to the kitchen and peered inside. “Okay, where are you? You jump out at me, and I swear I’ll beat the daylights out of you.”

  “You have no sense of humor.” Ryan’s voice startled her as it came just two feet behind her.

  “Yeah well, that’s me—sense-of-humorless. Besides, you know I hate it when you do that.” Jessie reached in a cabinet and pulled out a large metal flashlight. She shined it directly in Ryan’s face. “Oh. Well, now that’s a pleasant pose.” Ryan’s cheeks were scrunched up and his eyes were shut tight.

  He grabbed the light from her hands. “All right, so maybe you do have a sense of humor. You’ve got to stop rearranging everything in here. It’s gotta be driving Gramps crazy. Changing things in your home is one thing, but Gramps’s and my place ought to be off-limits.”

  Jessie reached into the cabinet where she had stored the candles. “It doesn’t appear to bother Gramps, but I’ll leave your cabin alone.” Jessie glanced at Ryan. He was using the flashlight to guide him in stirring his hot chocolate. “You know, I’d reach these candles a lot quicker if you’d shine that thing over here instead of using it to illuminate your cup of cocoa. I realize that’s a tough job with you being challenged as you are—”

  The light instantly flashed into the cabinet. “I got it. I got it. I may be slow but I’m not stupid.”

  “Here they are. Grab the pie tins from that cabinet above your head? I’ll need four.”

  They lit the scented candles and set them strategically throughout the home. Ryan placed a couple more logs on the fire while Jessie went to her room to change. Jessie had taken up lodging in the guest room on the weekends since Gramps had moved into his sister’s home. She didn’t like seeing Gramps so alone, and he enjoyed the company.

  “Well now, that certainly gives the air a refreshing scent,” Jessie said playfully, entering the family room. She was glad she had her long flannel nightshirt and large, furry, Christmas-green bathrobe. She didn’t like showing off her figure, especially around Ryan.

  “Kind of a cinnamon-vanilla-lilac thing going,” Ryan answered lightheartedly from his spot on the rug.

  “Ruth had them for different seasons. I don’t think she planned on anyone using them all at the same time.” Jessie nestled onto the rug and leaned her back into the love seat. “How was your week?” She glanced momentarily at his alluring blue eyes and assessed how he’d cut his hair. The black and previously shoulder-length hair now rested neatly at his collar.

  “Not too bad. Wrapped everything up. The buyers from New Mexico are coming up after the holidays to pick up Odin, and . . .” Ryan said the next words slowly. “They’ve also offered to buy Joanie.”

  Jessie didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t mind Odin being sold. He was a noble horse—an Appaloosa Ryan named after the mythological Norse god of war, knowledge, wisdom, and poetry—but she hadn’t bonded with him. Over the summer, however, she had grown entirely attached to Joanie, an Oldenburg. She was mother to the foal Ryan had given her. Surely he wouldn’t sell Rebecca’s horse? Jessie took a deep breath, reminding herself that if Ryan wanted Joanie—Joan-of-Arc—to be sold, whether his late wife’s horse or not, it was clearly none of her business.

  “Jessie, did you hear me?”

  “Yes. I thought you decided against the sale.”

  “They’ve increased their offer considerably.”

  “What do they plan on doing with her?”

  “They’ll breed her, I suppose.”

  “Oh. So, how’s Jill?”

  Raising a question about his secretary assured Ryan that Jessie was disappointed at the thought of losing Joanie. He valued her thoughts and opinions and wished she was more willing to share them honestly. But for whatever reason, she’d decided that it wasn’t her place.

  “Jill’s been thinking about going back to college in Missouri. She’ll be able to stay on long enough to help me pack and transfer everything to my office at the cabin after the new year. After today’s commute, I can’t wait to be here permanently. She’s considering becoming a therapist herself. Said if I could be one, then she could certainly make a career of it.”

  “That’s for sure,” Jessie snickered. Then her tone became matter-of-fact. “It’s going to be cold tonight. I’ll find you some extra blankets. Gramps only has the comforter in his room.” She stood with a simultaneous stretch and disappeared down the hall. She returned with an armful of blankets. “Here you go. That should keep you warm enough,” Jessie said. “Well, I’m exhausted. Good night.” Jessie checked the front door to make sure it was locked, then headed down the hall toward the back door.

  “Good night—and thanks,” Ryan replied.

  Jessie shut the door to her room. Ryan smiled as he heard the lock turn. He’d grown to respect her over the past few months. He would no more enter her room at night than swim in a crocodile-infested swamp. While her trust in him was building, it had a ways to go.

  * * *

  “No, No! Please, don’t. Stop it!” Jessie’s screams echoed through the silence of the night.

  Ryan called to her gently from the hall. He waited. Jessie’s pleadings continued. “JESSIE, WAKE UP!” he finally shouted.

  Jessie’s body jerked as it woke. She quickly focused on her surroundings.

  Ryan pounded on the door. “Jessie, are you okay?” he called loudly.

  “Yes, Ryan, I’m fine,” she replied calmly. “I’m sorry I woke you. Please go back to bed.”

  Jessie lit the candle on the small, round table next to her and retrieved the roll of tissue out of its drawer. She wiped her eyes and patted the sweat on her forehead.

  “You’ve been upset for a while, so I figured I ought to snap you out of it.”

  “I appreciate it. Now please, I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

  Ryan rubbed his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” His voice was soothing.

  “No.”

  “You need to talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to do this now, Ryan.”

  “You haven’t talked to me in weeks, Jessie. You’ve cancelled four appointments.”

&nb
sp; “So? Bill me anyway!”

  “I’ve never billed you, Jessie. We’re friends, remember? Not client and patient. And as your friend, I want to help.”

  “Ryan, Christmas is less than a week away. Can’t you just put a sock in it already?” She was out of bed now, frantically pulling on her robe and heading toward the door. “I need some hot chocolate,” she said, her long auburn hair smacking Ryan in the face as she flew past him.

  “Uh, Jessie?”

  “Oh, what now? For crying out loud! Are you going to analyze the fact that I want sugar at two thirty in the morning?”

  “No—I thought you’d maybe want to leave the roll of tissue behind.”

  “What?” Jessie looked down to find the end of the toilet paper stuck to her flannel nightshirt, the rest trailing off behind her to the roll at her bedside. “This is precisely the reason I don’t like company.” She yanked the tissue off her body and tossed it at the bed, then headed toward the kitchen.

  Ryan followed her down the hall, but at a slower pace.

  Jessie was standing at the kitchen sink with her back toward Ryan when he walked in. “Since you’re obviously not going to go away and leave me alone, do you want something to drink?” she asked brusquely.

  “Coffee would be fine, but I can make it.”

  Jessie slammed the cupboard door shut after retrieving two mugs. “I got it,” she snapped. She turned on the kettle and located the hot chocolate and the coffee she’d just bought. “This is all I have.”

  Ryan sat at the table. “Since when did you start buying decaffeinated coffee?”

  Ignoring the question, Jessie stirred at least fifty miniature marshmallows into a mug in which she had yet to add water. She wasn’t about to tell him that she was working up to the Word of Wisdom challenge from the Mormon missionaries. There was no love lost between Ryan and the Mormons, and while she hadn’t come to understand completely why he resented them, she knew it was deep-seated. She had resolved to remain silent about her own discoveries. Besides, the Word of Wisdom hadn’t all made sense to her yet, and she could probably be talked out of it at the moment. “I want to enjoy Christmas, Blake. I don’t want any psychoanalyzing messing it up.”

  Ryan reflected carefully about his next line of strategy. Jessie only used his last name when she was headed in the direction of severe wrath. “I just figured since we’re stuck here, it was a good time to talk.”

  “Well, you figured wrong,” she said, tapping her fingernails on the table. “I need to get through this my way, not the way you feel I should,” she clarified.

  “I’m not without common sense, Jessie. But you’ve been more distant than usual lately—avoiding my calls, breaking dates, and the nightmares have obviously resurfaced.”

  “We’ve never had a ‘date.’ Well, except that one time after Ruth passed away, and that wasn’t really a date—”

  “You know what I mean.”

  The newly lit candles flickered against the whistle of the blowing snow. Jessie stared out the back window at the billowing swirls of white, thankful for the warmth of the cabin. She let out a soft sigh. “I’ve already promised you that I would come and find you when I needed to bounce something around. I just haven’t wanted to bounce anything for a while.”

  The teakettle burst slowly into song, delaying Ryan’s response. As Jessie retrieved the sputtering kettle, Barkley, a red mackerel tabby with the encircling pencil markings of an exotic jungle cat, jumped on the table. He was apparently intent on a thorough examination of the candle’s flickering flame.

  “No, kitty. Tables are for people, not for furry animals.” Jessie placed Barkley in her lap and began stroking him. The cat was more than a companion to Jessie. He was a constant reminder of Ruth. Barkley had originally been her pet, and since Ruth’s passing, Jessie and the tabby had adopted each other.

  The once-fluffy marshmallows were now mashed together as the hot water streamed into the cup. Ryan retrieved the reindeer-shaped kettle from her hands and refilled his mug. He was amazed at the large assortment of decorations Jessie had for the holiday. The thought brought instant memories of Rebecca. She too had loved to decorate for Christmas. Their cabin had held no fewer than four trees each year. The usual live, festive green fir had adorned their family room. This displayed all sorts of decorations. She’d called it their “hodgepodge” tree. Then there was a tree in the kitchen. This was filled with treats, yards of popcorn, and brightly colored cereal shapes. Added to it was a myriad of candy canes in all sizes and colors; thus, it was rightfully named the “goodie” tree. Their bedroom was home to the “heirloom” tree, filled with both of their childhood memories. The ornaments were trinkets made in their youth and small toys that could easily sit on the branches or around the trunk. Rebecca’s favorite tree, however, had always been in the loft. It was a white-flocked fir, hung with white glass ornaments and tiny blue lights. Their “peace” tree brought a sense of calm to the space, and Ryan remembered sharing many nights together next to it, just holding each other.

  Ryan figured if they’d ever had kids, they would have exhausted themselves running from tree to tree in an effort to locate the one Santa had left the gifts under.

  “I know I’ve been avoiding you, and yes, I do have reasons. Reasons I’m not ready to share. Please, Ryan, can I have Christmas?”

  Jessie’s question brought him back to the present. “What? Oh, yeah, understandable. I’ll back off until after the new year, but then you’re going to have to face some things. It’s time.”

  A relieved Jessie placed Barkley on the floor and began rummaging through the cupboard for more marshmallows. “Where’d you go? You had that glazed look on your face for a minute.”

  “All the decorations around here got me thinking about Brecca. She loved Christmas. She could hardly wait for Thanksgiving to get over with. The day after was the official day to begin decorating. I wouldn’t see or hear anything from her till Monday morning. It was absolutely forbidden to bother her till then.”

  “You didn’t get to help?”

  “Oh, no. It wasn’t my place. And if I tried, she would shoo me away.” Ryan’s lips began to curve up in a smile.

  “Are you going to put a tree up this year, maybe in the family room?”

  “Haven’t given it any thought.”

  “Well, I’ve been neglectful. That’s another reason I came to Gramps’s tonight. He and I were going to look for a tree for his place.” Jessie let out a yawn. “Okay, well, I think I can sleep now.” She placed her mug in the sink and headed out of the kitchen. Before leaving she turned in Ryan’s direction, keeping her chin down. “Thanks, you know, for . . . well, you know.”

  For a moment Ryan considered the several times he had awakened her from tormenting dreams. As a favor for Jessie’s employer, he’d returned from early retirement the previous summer; Jessie wasn’t sleeping, and it was affecting her work. Her employer knew she would never seek the necessary help she needed to overcome her childhood issues, so he sought help for her. Over the years, many clients had stayed at Ryan’s cabin on the weekends with him and his late wife and Gramps. Jessie was angered by her employer’s demands that she receive counseling, and had only stayed a couple nights with Ryan and Gramps on threat of losing her job. She didn’t want either of them to be involved in her nightmares. But slowly, over time, she’d learned to open up little by little until she saw the benefit of Ryan’s help and Gramps’s unassuming way of making friends.

  “Not a problem,” he answered. “Never a problem.”

  CHA­PT­­ER­ 3

  It was dawn, and all was quiet at Ryan’s cabin. The unkempt form on the couch hadn’t moved during the night, even when Gramps had removed the parka, wet jeans, and sweatshirt. The boy was in his early teens, Gramps guessed. He had an unusually pimple-free complexion, fiery orange hair, which Gramps assumed was naturally blond, due to the roots that peeked through, and light eyebrows. “Now Nelly, quit being a pest and get on outta here,” Gramps said,
waving Ryan’s large rottweiler away from the boy.

  Less than an hour later, the boy began to move. His hair was plastered to his forehead as he sat up. His misty green eyes grew wider as Nelly put her jaw in his lap.

  Gramps smiled as he picked up his pipe. “She won’t hurt you any. She may have a fierce growl and a mouth full of very effective teeth, but she’s a baby. She’d work her way completely in your lap if you’d let her.”

  The boy just stared, first at Gramps, then back at Nelly. What little tail Nelly had was wagging violently. Gramps set his crossword puzzle down on an end table. “You can call me Gramps—most people do. You got a name, boy?”

  Nothing.

  “What in blazes were you doin’ out in that blizzard?” Gramps waited, expecting a break in the deepening silence. But none came. “Hmm, so that’s how it’s gonna be, eh? Well, okay. You hungry? Just a slight nod will do.” Nothing came from the boy. “I’m not a fancy cook, but I got a pretty good-tastin’ ham-and-cheese omelet goin’ in the kitchen. It’ll be done in just a bit. Why don’tcha go and see if your clothes are dry, and I’ll get the table set. They’re in the dryer at the end of the hall on the right.”

  Gramps walked out of the great room and into the kitchen to check the progress of their breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye he followed the boy’s slow progression to the hallway. As he disappeared from view, Gramps shook his head slowly, wondering at the boy’s plight.

  A minute later, Gramps heard an ill-at-ease whine from the normally quiet Nelly. He poked his head around the corner of the kitchen, peered down the hall, and was met with a cold blast of wind from the hall entrance. He darted down the hall and threw open the door to find the boy feeling his way down the second step. The snow pounded furiously in the boy’s face, his eyes fighting to stay open. Within seconds the boy found himself being yanked off his feet and placed back in the semiwarmth of the hallway.

  “Now, you just hold on there, young man. You aren’t goin’ to get anywhere in that mess. I don’t know what’s happened, and it ain’t my place to pry, but while you’re under this roof, you’ll be havin’ a few manners. First, you’ll be stayin’ put till I say so. Second, you’ll be takin’ that coat off and hangin’ it back up on that hook. And then you’re gonna sit down in there,” he pointed toward the kitchen, “and eat a good meal. You got that?”