Chapter 26
His father hadn’t had time to look around up here before, when the focus had been on getting Hetty to the trauma center.
And then, after that, it had been a crime scene.
Actually, two crime scenes that overlapped.
And with his son involved in one, and his nephew investigating the other, Spence should have guessed Dad would want to look around now.
Neither his father nor his uncle would ever take a threat to one of their offspring lightly.
Not with the family history being what it was.
Once Spence had pointed out where the areas involved were, he’d left them to it.
He was happy just doing what he could to clean up the cockpit of the plane.
Chuck had gotten the fuel pump fixed so that it wouldn’t be an issue during takeoff, which was the main time the high-wing aircraft needed it, but there was still a bit of debris from the window that had been shot through, and he didn’t really want to chance sitting on broken glass.
And then there were the markings the forensics people had made, showing where they’d found evidence for the photographs they’d taken. He didn’t want those there when Hetty was able to get back to the pilot’s seat.
He’d thought about trekking up the hill with them, to where the body had been buried, but decided there was no reason.
If he knew his cousin Eli, they’d combed that area so thoroughly they’d probably scared away any scavengers for weeks.
And there was no way seeing the spot now would erase the image in his mind of the half-buried body.
Besides, he’d had no real desire to revisit the grim site anyway.
The cave, now…
The moment the idea hit, he was seized with a sudden need that seemed undeniable.
He climbed out of the plane and jumped down to the beach.
He headed up the hill, not quite sure where this urgency had come from.
He made it there a lot faster than he had that night, although the memories were so vivid they made him feel just as wound up as if it were that night again, and Hetty was in his arms and bleeding.
He barely slowed for the steeper parts of the climb, and managed not to even look over toward the little waterfall where it had happened.
You think you’re rattled? She found the body and then got shot, she’s the one who should have been a basket case. But no, not Hetty. She held it together, because that’s what she does.
He stepped behind the big Sitka spruce and sidled through the narrow cave entrance.
He had to stop for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light.
It didn’t look like anyone—or anything—had been in there.
He supposed whatever scent they’d left behind had kept the wary wild creatures clear.
Stupid, vicious humans, however, were another matter, so he trod carefully.
Once he was certain the cave was empty, he walked over to the little alcove where they had spent that long, emotion-filled night.
He hadn’t really intended to do this, so he only had the flashlight from his phone to use to scan the area.
He found some paper wrappings from the gauze, which he automatically picked up and stuffed in his pocket.
His instinct about keeping the wilds free of unnatural litter was strong.
His stomach clenched when he found some bloodied cloth lying where Hetty had been. He’d forgotten he’d pulled one of his spare shirts out of the pack and used it to try to staunch the bleeding. The dread he’d felt then washed through him again now.
The next thing he knew, he was crouched down near the cave floor, feeling as if his legs had suddenly given out.
The light from the phone lit up a dark spot on the floor of the cave.
He knew it was blood, Hetty’s blood, and nausea churned his gut.
He should have known then how badly hurt she’d been.
He should have tried to get her out of there and on the way to help right then, shouldn’t have tried to wait until morning even though she had insisted she’d be fine. He should have—
“Spence!”
Even coming through the speaker of the RTA walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, his father’s voice sounded…sharp. Harsh. Angry?
At his next thought, dread suddenly swamped him all over again. Had that not been anger he’d heard in Dad’s voice, but fear? He hadn’t heard any unusual noise, certainly not a shot, but…
He spun on his heel and ran to the mouth of the cave. Froze there, listening. Automatically, his hand slipped down to his belt, checking his knife.
“Spence Colton, get your sorry butt back here right now!”
He heard them both now: anger and fear. But if Dad was calling him back, the threat wasn’t there, or wasn’t active. Or anywhere near…or he wouldn’t be shouting. So he scrambled out of the cave and down the hill, trying to focus on getting there rather than what he might find when he did.
The moment he cleared the tree line, he saw Dad and Uncle Will standing near the helicopter.
Had it been tampered with? Was the crazy guy still around?
He started to run, and both men turned then, obviously spotting him.
For an instant, he thought they both almost sagged a little, as if they’d each let out a huge breath. Of relief?
His brow still furrowed, he slowed when he got closer. He stopped a few feet away, warily. Because both his father and his uncle were not only holding their rifles, they looked…furious.
“What the hell were you thinking?” His father rarely yelled, and even more rarely swore, but he was doing both now. “Taking off like that and not letting us know?”
“I just went back to the cave because—”
“I don’t care where, or why, damn it. You were out of sight without a word, when we’re within a few yards of where some nutjob tried to kill you!”
Belatedly—far too belatedly—realization hit. His father had been scared, all right. But not for himself. For him.
It all tumbled into place; another time when a Colton had been found too late.
The aunt he’d never known, who had been his father’s little sister.
And for the first time Spence thought of that family history in today’s terms, of how he would feel if something had happened to Kansas.
He would carry the scar forever and it would influence his reactions for the same length of time.
He realized that now because he already knew he would carry the memory of his panic over Hetty the same way, for that same forever.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said humbly. “I didn’t think.” He glanced at his uncle. “You, too, Uncle Will. It was stupid. I should have at least used the radio to check in first.”
The two men looked a little surprised. And a bit deflated, which he hoped meant he’d taken a bit of the anger out of them. Not that they didn’t have the right to be, but he hated the feeling and wanted it gone.
Uncle Will, ever a wise man, nodded in acceptance then excused himself from the scene to go down to the plane, leaving them alone. And when his father spoke again, it was calmer, although a bit of an edge remained.
“Why did you go back to the cave?”
“I…wanted to clean up,” he said, gesturing with the shirt he was still holding. His father’s gaze locked on the bloodstained garment and he winced. “We left kind of a mess, in all the rush to…to…”
“Save Hetty’s life?” Ryan Colton suggested softly.
Spence met his father’s steady gaze, swallowed tightly and blinked a couple of times before giving up on speech and simply nodding.
“I get the idea something else happened up there that night that made you want to go back there.”
Not ready for this, not until he knew for sure where he and Hetty stood, he muttered, “Just wanted to be sure we hadn’t lost anything up there.”
“I think,” Dad said slowly, “that you didn’t lose anything. But just maybe you found something.”
Dad had always been too smart to fool for long.