In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter fourteen


2:40 a.m.

Obscenity spray painted in black marred the outside of Grams’s old Victorian. And the crude words were meant for me. I was ashamed and embarrassed. I’d never had sex, but if anyone looked at the huge letters sprawled on my grandmother’s house, they’d think I was lying. It was bad enough that bad news traveled fast in Shawano, but soon everything would be on the internet. I wanted to run, but there’d be no real place to hide and I wouldn’t leave Mom alone. Besides, with all four tires on the Subaru slashed, neither one of us could escape.

The police cruiser parked at the curb drew attention like flashing neon. The spiraling red-and-blue lights shone in neighbors’ windows and cast eerie shadows on the front of our house, reflecting off the shattered glass. And the deputy’s radio blurted codes in copspeak. None of this was low profile.

Even at this insane hour, neighbors got in line to watch the circus. They stood on their porches and sidewalks and stared at us like we were freaks. I was used to gawkers, but Mom wasn’t. I saw their dark faceless shadows, but none of them came over. We were outsiders. If anyone had witnessed what happened, I knew they wouldn’t get involved.

We were totally screwed.

I stared up at the house and whispered, “I can’t believe this.”

All we had done had been ripped to shreds or destroyed in minutes. The new paint, the flowers and plants, and the clean windows—all of it ruined. And at my feet was a little white petunia that had lumps of soil clinging to its tiny roots. I bent down and picked it up, cradling it in my hand.

“Ah, poor baby.”

It would cost time and money to fix things, but the pain of seeing Grams’s house destroyed took a higher toll. Even if we fixed it, there were no guarantees that Jade and Derek wouldn’t target us again.

Since I’d come back to Shawano, everything had come at me fast—like I was stalled on the tracks of an oncoming train and locked in my seat belt with no choice but to wait for the wreck. And I was sick and tired of just watching shit happen.

“You said you heard a car. Did you get a look at the vehicle? Or see a tag?” Deputy Sanford’s voice carried on the muggy night air.

He went down his standard list of questions and did his best to finish his incident report, but we had little to say. Since the destruction looked like kids had done it, the deputy had tried to pull me aside earlier, but Mom had gotten real protective and took control. After that, he directed all his questions to her.

My mother knew what would rain down on us from all directions if she accused the sheriff’s nephew without any real proof. Our suspicions wouldn’t be enough, especially in this town. We were in a no-win situation and we both knew it, so we stuck to the facts, even though it was killing us not to say more.

“No, like I said, we were asleep. We didn’t see anything,” Mom repeated. “We only heard it.”

“We’ll get statements from your neighbors and let you know if they saw or heard anything,” the deputy said as he looked at our house. “In the meantime, you should take photos for your insurance. That’s always a good idea.”

His attempt at being thorough and helpful fell on stunned, numb ears. Not much was getting through. I couldn’t stand seeing my grandmother’s home trashed, a place filled with memories. I knew Mom probably didn’t blame me, but everything I had done since I got back to Shawano had brought this down on her. Was she sorry that she’d brought me…or sorry that she got stuck with me as her kid?

Maybe I’m an alien.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Mom said.

“I doubt it.”

“This wasn’t your fault. Whoever did this will pay, in this life or the next.”

Mom didn’t go to church much, but she always got religion when she couldn’t explain really bad stuff. And when the situation called for it, she made God out to be a really angry guy who got revenge in the afterlife—like he was a badass hall monitor with a whack sense of timing. I wanted to tell her that God would get a whole lot more satisfaction if he took care of business now and bitch slapped anyone who got out of line.

Me being an alien made more sense.

Shawano Sheriff’s Office

Sheriff Matt Logan wasn’t surprised to see his deputy, Will Tate, in the office this early before his shift. Most guys his age valued downtime, but Tate was real dedicated. This wasn’t the first time he’d come in early.

Matt was working on his fifth cup of coffee when he saw Tate sitting at his desk in the bull pen, looking at a silver watch in a plastic bag. It had a striking blue watch face on it. Even from a distance, something clicked with him. And a slow gnaw in his belly started working.

“What’s that?” Matt asked. “Mind if I take a look?”

“No, go ahead. We found it in a fire pit, covered in mud and ash. The wristband’s broken, but the lab got it cleaned up. No usable fingerprints, but I’m still working it. We could get lucky.” He hesitated a minute before he added, “It’s new evidence in the Heather Madsen case.”

Hearing Heather’s name caused Matt to tense. That case was a black mark on his career, the one investigation that still plagued him. Heather had been a close friend to his nephew, Derek. A girlfriend, in fact. The investigation would have turned uglier if he had to put Derek on a suspect list. Boyfriends always hit that list, but the Nash girl and that Indian kid made things real simple.

Until now.

As Matt stared down at the silver watch in plastic, the walls closed in on him. He recognized the timepiece, especially the unique colored face. He’d ordered it special, online.

For Derek. It had been a special gift, for his nephew’s thirteenth birthday, a rite of passage for a boy turning into a man.

“You said you found this. Where?” Matt tried to sound casual. After Tate told him about the location of the crime scene, he asked, “And it’s part of the Madsen case, you say?”

When Tate confirmed his worst nightmare, Matt pursed his lips and nodded.

“You got a minute, Will?”

He waved his deputy into his office. When Tate came in, he closed his door and offered his deputy a seat.

“I hear you’ve been asking questions about what happened to Brenna Nash at the Seaver party.” His question was a smoke screen to get his mind off the watch, but he also wanted his deputy to know that nothing got by him. He had ways of keeping tabs.

“Yeah, I have been. You got a problem with that?”

“No. Just keep me in the loop. That’s all.” He rocked in his chair and steepled his fingers as he stared at his deputy. “Tell me about that sweat lodge you found, the one that the Henry kid might have built.”

“No maybe about it. Joe Sunne ID’d the knife that kid stole from his place. And some of his other stuff was there, too.” Tate nodded. “That was the boy’s sweat lodge all right.”

His deputy filled him in on what he’d found. And he told him about the second knife at the lodge. The question of why the kid would’ve needed two knives was a valid one. And it had always been a mystery why Heather had been in the woods that night, but none of this was enough for him to reopen a case that would have the whole town up in arms. No, sir.

Will Tate was a good young cop. He had an easy way about him that Matt liked. And despite the fact Will had not heeded his advice on Brenna Nash—that the kid was trouble—he respected his deputy’s instincts to pursue his own investigation. At his age, he might have done the same.

“I saw that Kate Nash filed a complaint last night. Vandals hit her mother’s old place,” he said. He hoped his deputy would see the connection. The Nashes were magnets for trouble, both of them.

“Yeah, someone did a lot of damage, Sanford said. From what he told me, it sounded like kids. Maybe it’s linked to the incident with the Nash girl, after the Seaver party.” Will shook his head. “That woman and her daughter have had more than their share of crap to deal with.”

Matt’s natural instinct was to lecture his deputy on believing a mother with parenting issues. Kate’s little darling was never responsible. But after seeing Derek’s watch in that evidence bag, he didn’t feel up to it. His sister was a single mom who had survived a really rocky divorce. He’d wondered about his nephew after seeing uncomfortable signs that the kid gave his mother regular snow jobs about what he was up to. But kids were kids.

Kate Nash’s girl was another story. She’d been involved with a half-breed kid who had killed a real promising young woman. Heather Madsen had been an upstanding girl from Shawano who had a bright future taken away from her and her family.

The Nash woman was no comparison to his sister.

“Is that all, sir?” Tate’s voice yanked him from his doubts. “I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“Yeah, that’s all.” He nodded. “And good work on uncovering the new evidence in the Madsen case. The D.A. will need it when the time comes.”

For his sake and for the town’s, he hoped that time would come sooner rather than later. With the Nashes in town, things had come to a boil real fast. All he wanted now was a quick trial to put that Henry kid behind bars where he belonged. The Madsen family needed closure. And he’d breathe easier when the case was officially closed.

Red Cliffs Hospital

After we got a tow truck to pick up Mom’s car to fix the tires, we hitched a ride with Joe, and we got to the hospital half an hour early, but that didn’t do us any good. Dr. Ridgeway kept us waiting outside the detention unit. Forever! He was making a point that he was in charge. But after what had happened last night—and with all the things on my mother’s mind—she looked antsy and a little pissed. Her show of attitude covered up her jangling nerves.

Mom sat next to me, but Joe kept moving. With hands clasped behind his back, he paced the hall like he was a shark in open water. His eyes took everything in the way a predator looked at the world. His face was always calm. Only his eyes hinted at the coiled spring of tension inside him. The man knew how to keep his emotions in check.

Until today, I wouldn’t have bet a dime that Joe owned a tie much less a sport coat. His jeans and boots offset his adult gear, enough to avoid the whole “Look at me! I’m a good Christian heading to church” thing. Mom wore a blue sundress and sandals. And I had on jeans, my best vintage sneaks, a T-shirt and vest, with a short brimmed straw hat pulled down around my ears. And I wore my biggest aviator shades that made me look like a fly.

I’d changed ten times.

“No matter how this goes, you’re a tough, gutsy kid, Bren,” Mom said. “And I’m proud of you.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“You get that from your father’s side of the family.”

I couldn’t help it. I snorted a laugh. Sometimes Mom cracked me up.

“Okay, this waiting is driving me insane.” Mom sighed.

“I wouldn’t say that too loud. Not in this place.”

She didn’t hear me. Mom jumped off the couch like it was on fire and said, “I’m gonna find out what’s going on.” She zeroed in on the nurse behind the desk.

After she left, Joe came over and stood in front of me with his hands stuffed into his jeans.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“A little.” I wrung my hands and my knee got fidgety all by itself.

I didn’t bother to hide my twisty nerves from a guy who knew exactly what it took to survive a hellish vision that probably had felt like being gutted like a fish.

“Tell me what will happen, Joe. I need to know.” I thudded the back of my head against a column and kept my eyes fixed on him from behind my dark glasses. “Mainly, I just need to hear your voice.”

He smiled. A real smile and not just a lip twitch. When it lit up his dark eyes, I could totally see him being married.

“Every journey is different.” The rich tone of his voice rumbled like distant thunder. I leaned my head back and shut my eyes to listen, until he said, “I hope he’s strong enough to reach out to you one more time.”

My eyes popped open and I jerked my head straight. The thought of White Bird being too weak had me picturing him hanging off a cliff. And the only thing holding him there was me.

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” I grimaced. “Positive thoughts, okay?”

The man nodded and sat next to me.

In a low voice, only loud enough for me to hear, he said, “You’ve already seen the inside of a vision. It’s like a string of illusions, symbols meant as a message. Everything is important.”

“Wait a minute. What about him? I don’t care about road signs in hell. I just want to find him and break him out of wherever he’s at.”

When Joe hesitated, I got worried.

“You’re hiding something. What is it?” I pressed.

“Remember when you first came to me and I said that I knew who you were?”

“Yeah.” I figured he’d heard the town rumors or seen something in the papers from two years ago.

“I knew you were coming,” he said, fixing his dark eyes on me, “because I’d seen you in a vision.”

“You’re scaring me, Joe.” I glanced over to Mom. She was still talking to the nurse at the desk. “What did you see?”

“White Bird is locked in his mind, but even if you reach him and show him the way out of his torment, he still won’t be free.” Joe reached for my hand. “Inside the memories you share with him is the key. That’s why you’re the only one who can truly free him.”

“What does that mean? I don’t understand.”

“That’s why I want you to remember everything you see after you connect with him. Nothing is too small. The dream signs could come from you or from him, but all of them will be important.”

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“Everyone assumed he killed that girl. Maybe even…you did, too.” Joe took a deep breath. “But what if he was only a witness, Brenna? What if the real killer still lives in Shawano?”

What Joe said hit me like a jolt of electricity. It charged through my body and tingled shame down my fingers and toes before it shot out from every follicle of my hair. It never felt right that White Bird was capable of killing, but with him kneeling over Heather with that damned bloody knife in his hand, what was a kid to think? I was fourteen then. And I thought I’d done the right thing by calling 911. Now Joe made me doubt everything.

“I hadn’t said anything before now because I didn’t want you to second-guess yourself and get distracted.”

“But I was the one who turned him in, Joe. Did I do the wrong thing?” I stared at the tips of my sneaks and everything blurred. I heard Joe’s voice, but not what he said. I couldn’t get past what I’d done. “They arrested him…because of me. If he was a witness, why didn’t he tell them what he saw?”

“He couldn’t. But now, with you, I think he’s strong enough. You both are.” Joe pulled at the tie hanging around his neck and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He looked tired.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning the tests that are put in my path,” he said. “I think folks are given what they can handle and are stronger for it. You and White Bird have an extraordinary journey in front of you. Keep your eyes set on the horizon and quit looking over your shoulder. Guilt and regrets are a waste of time.”

I shut my eyes tight and took what he said into my brain, letting his message roll around in the void. When I opened them again, I was still shaky.

“I’m scared, Joe.”

“Just trust your feelings and follow your instincts.”

“My instincts? You got a plan B?”

Joe ignored me.

“Above all, you must believe that your gift is real. If you falter or doubt yourself, you could lose him. And there are no promises that you’ll have a next time. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“I’ve got one shot? That’s it?” I heaved a sigh. “So…no pressure.”

“One shot is all any of us have. Make it count.”

I didn’t think he was talking about vision tripping anymore. Joe put a strong hand on the back of my neck and lent me his strength.

“You’re very strong, Brenna. That’s why he can reach you. You’re like a beacon. Use the strength you share and rely on each other.”

He pulled my chin toward him to make his point.

“And believe in your bond,” he said. “Trust me when I tell you that you have a very special gift. You have no idea how extraordinary you are.”

I stared at Joe and filtered what he said through my bullshit detector. The guy wasn’t blowing smoke, but he’d given me the equivalent of keys to a priceless Maserati, with only a five-minute pep talk on how to drive a stick shift.

“The doctor is on his way.” Mom came back with a grin. “He’ll be here any minute.”

“Great. Just…great.” I swallowed, hard. Even though Joe had delivered a last-minute bombshell, it needed to be said. And if I had dwelled on his message overnight, who knows what a basket case I would have been by now.

I’d never gotten very far trusting my own instincts before. Guess there was a first time for everything.

Shawano Sheriff’s Office—Afternoon

With a half-eaten sandwich sitting on his desk, Sheriff Matt Logan had called his sister’s work number at the bank and had to leave a message. She was in a meeting that would take her through the lunch hour and then some.

He was looking for Derek.

If the school year were underway, he’d know where to find his nephew, either at school or the football field. But with summer here, he needed help from his little sister. When she finally called him back, he was eager to talk to her.

“Hey, bro. You calling about the barbecue this weekend?” Before he answered, she kept talking. “Just come over whenever. We’ll be cooking all day. And bring beer. That way you won’t have to hit the store. I know you always have brewski on hand.”

“You know me too well. Sounds good.” He forced a smile into his voice to sound casual. “Hey, I’m looking for Derek. You know where I can find him? I’ve got chores at the house. And I could use his strong young back.”

“Emphasis on young.” She laughed. “Normally I couldn’t tell you, but it’s your lucky day.”

Matt didn’t feel lucky.

“I just got off the phone with him,” she said. “He’s working out in the garage with one of his buddies. The only thing that boy has on his mind these days is next football season.”

That’s not the only thing, he thought.

“Thanks, sis. I’ll talk to you later.”

After he ended the call, he dumped the sandwich that was still on his desk and headed out. He went to the evidence lockup and waited for the desk clerk to leave before he went behind the secured door without bothering to sign in. It didn’t take him long to find the Madsen box. He knew it well. After he pulled out the plastic bag with the watch in it, he put it in his pocket and slipped out to find Derek, not telling anyone where he was going.

The fewer who saw him leave, the better.

It took fifteen minutes to get to his sister’s place. And when he pulled into the drive, he saw the garage door open. Derek and his sidekick Justin were lifting weights. For a split second, he caught a surprised expression on his nephew’s face. The kid looked worried.

Being a cop, Matt knew what that look meant. He’d seen it plenty. Damn it!

“Hey, Uncle Matt.” Derek waved as he walked toward his police cruiser. “What’s up?”

The kid’s face flushed red and his sudden color didn’t appear to come from exertion.

Matt got out of his squad car and leaned on it with arms crossed. Justin had stayed in the garage pretending to be busy, but the kid kept eyeballing him. Normally Justin was real friendly. Not today.

Using his skills as a cop, he chatted his nephew up and got him feeling real comfortable. They talked about football and the family grill party on the weekend. And they even talked about girls. That’s when he took a detour.

“Hey, what’s up with that plastic watch? What happened to the one I bought you for Christmas a few years back?” He forced a smile. “I thought girls were into…bling.”

Derek looked down at his wrist and the red splotches on his face came back. The watch Matt had given his nephew had been a nice one. And the kid used to wear it all the time. A watch like that should have lasted him. But plain as day, the kid wore a cheap sports watch now.

“It’s in my room. In my dresser.” He shrugged and laughed it off. “It’s too nice to wear every day. You know, all the sweatin’ and stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Matt nodded. “Listen, your mom has a phone number in her address book that I need to get. I know where it’s at. I’ll only be a minute.”

He headed through the garage door and into the house, without waiting for Derek to say anything. His nephew was probably exchanging nervous glances with Justin and whispering for him to keep his cool. Matt knew the drill.

Once he got inside his sister’s house, he searched Derek’s room looking for the watch. It wasn’t in the dresser like he’d said, but Matt looked everywhere. The kid’s room was a mess and smelled like feet. After ten minutes, he gave up his search. The watch he’d given his nephew was missing.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath and headed back to his cruiser.

On his way out, he decided not to confront his nephew. He had too much to consider. If Derek had been an official suspect, he would have pressed him harder. The kid was being evasive and his body language had given away telltale signs that the boy was hiding something. His gut instincts and experience told him that Derek had lied about the watch. But why?

Matt wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. And with his being responsible for the Madsen case, how far would he go to protect his own family?

Red Cliffs Hospital

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dr. Ridgeway said.

Funny. He didn’t look sorry.

The doctor led us behind the locked buzzer door to the detention unit and walked with a quick pace. His white coat whisked the air and I had a hard time keeping up. I never moved that fast. Ever.

“An orderly is bringing him to an observation room. He should be with us shortly.” The doc smiled over his shoulder as he walked, dangling White Bird as a carrot. “You’ll be able to see him through a two-way mirror. He won’t know you’re there.”

“But—” When I opened my mouth, Joe raised a finger and took charge.

“We’ll need to talk to him. Pray over him. If that’s a problem, I’ll take it up with the tribal council…and the media.”

“No need for threats, Mr. Sunne. You’ll have time with him, but I’ll be observing from the next room. And I’ll step in if I determine it’s necessary. Understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

When the doctor opened a door and went into a small dark room off the hall, I took off my sunglasses and grabbed Joe’s arm, mouthing the words, “What the hell?” And Mom did a silent double take. Although Joe and I hadn’t worked out any signal, I was fairly sure he understood my WTF distress call.

The last time I touched White Bird, it had been powerful. Inside his hellish vision, it was pure torture. And I had no idea if my body mirrored what I was doing in that waking nightmare. I was afraid if I screamed or tumbled through the black void again, that I’d be fitted for a straitjacket. I’d look like I was having a fit.

Behind the doctor’s back, Joe held up a hand, a signal for me to hold on. I knew he wanted me to trust him. And I did. It was the tall guy in white that I had problems with. I turned my back on the two men behind me and stared into the empty room next door, the one White Bird would be brought to. And with my nose pressed to the glass, I pictured him there.

I trusted Joe. I really did.

“Can you share what you’ve tried for treatments?” Joe asked the doc.

“That’s confidential, I’m afraid.”

“Then what’s his prognosis, Doctor? Surely you can answer that?” Joe insisted. “I’ve got to report back to the tribal council that White Bird is receiving the proper care.”

Joe had picked his words well. The word proper riled Dr. Ridgeway. It showed on his face. And the man definitely didn’t like being second-guessed, especially by a Shaman.

“We’ve tried everything. The normal protocols have had no effect.” Dr. Ridgeway took a deep breath and let doubt show in his eyes. It made him look human. “Quite frankly, I’m at a loss. That’s why when Ms. Nash got the boy to look at her, that was a real breakthrough.”

The doctor turned his attention to me.

“I don’t know what your relationship is with this boy, but he really needs your help. If we can get his attention and keep it, we may see results finally. I’m not talking about a complete cure, just a first step toward recovery. What do you say?”

“You may not want to talk about a cure today, but I do.” Joe narrowed his eyes at the man. I’d seen that look before. “Tell me, Doctor. Are you a betting man?”

“What?”

“Stacked up against all your science and this fancy hospital, would you bet money that a sixteen-year-old girl and one old Indian could completely cure this boy?”

“You mean, right here and now? Today?”

“Yes.” Joe nodded and his lip twitched. “Superstition against science.”

Joe had lured the man like catfish to stink bait.

He knew that stacked up against Dr. Ridgeway being in charge with a tight stranglehold on White Bird as a patient, we wouldn’t stand a chance at coloring outside the lines. But with his “superstition versus science” bet, the doc might give us more leeway. I held my breath waiting to see what Ridgeway would say.

“You want to place a wager on the boy’s health?” Dr. Ridgeway grimaced and acted like he was above being goaded into a silly wager. But after Joe nodded, the doc said, “You’re on. What’s the bet?”

“Oh, brother.” I rolled my eyes at Mom. “No pressure.”

That’s when I heard a door creak in the next room. I turned in time to see a Hispanic guy dressed in a white uniform rolling in a boy slumped in a wheelchair. The sight of White Bird made my heart lurch with every ounce of joy and every stab of pain I had ever felt for him. I wanted him to be that boy by the creek, the tall one with the gentle hands, the soft voice and the sad knowing eyes.

But he wasn’t. Not like this.

I pressed my forehead to the two-way mirror and touched my hand to the cold glass. It was impossible to forget he was trapped in the past—a past we shared. And now I had to have faith in something I’d never believed in before. Me.

The gravity of what we were attempting hit me hard and I couldn’t breathe. I had to save him. I had to.