“That would be very helpful, ma’am.”
Ten minutes later, Mark exited the building, the printout in his hand. Had the woman killed at the Larkspur looked up the contact infor
mation for Halston Fairbanks, a local lumber company CEO? And if so, why? Moreover, why had she stolen books from the library that looked to be for a young man? He had nothing to go on regarding the stolen books, but he’d contact Halston Fairbanks and hope to God, the man was able to provide some information that would move this case forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jak sat up sleepily, blinking around the dark room, the objects he knew well coming into focus as sleep cleared. There was a sound outside, one he didn’t recognize as part of the forest, a strange noise that must have pulled him from his dreams.
He reached for Pup, deep sadness squeezing him when he realized he wasn’t there. He’d never be there again.
His feet hit the cold floor and he stood, rushing to the back window and looking out into the snowy moonlit woods. A bright light suddenly blinded him and he startled, turning his head and using his arm to shield his eyes. He crouched, his palms hitting the wood hard and making him grunt with the pain.
For a minute he hid beneath the window, his heart beating loudly in his ears, his mind spinning. What is that light? What do I do?
Had the enemy come for him?
Would they break down his door? Overpower him? Hurt him? Kill him?
Will you die today?
No!
Jak gathered his bravery and raised his head, peeking over the sill as the light went out. There was a person—a woman, he thought—standing outside the window, some sort of light in her hand.
Jak watched, wide-eyed and tensed with fear, as she walked to the window next to the one he was hiding below and peered through that one. She knocked on the glass and though it was soft, it seemed to ring through the silent woods, the drumbeat of his heart following, loud and pounding in his head.
The woman stepped back and stood in the moonlight, looking at his house, seeming as scared as him. Jak leaned closer, trying to get a better look at her. No weapon, just a big bag hung over her shoulder. She looked one way, then the other, then behind her, before coming back to the window he was crouched below and knocking softly at that one again.
He turned, pressing his back to the wall as the soft tapping continued. For several minutes he simply sat there, waiting to see if the woman would go away. But instead, she knocked again, this time calling out softly, yet loud enough to be heard through the window. “Please let me in.”
She sounded scared. What if she needs help? What if she’s lost and alone like the blond boy?
He sat there for another few seconds, nervous, unsure, before finally standing, and looking at her through the glass. She stared back, raising her hand. “What do you want?” he called.
She stepped forward, letting out a sob and then putting her palms on the glass. “It’s you.” There was a small thump sound as she let her head fall forward so it was against the glass. “Please let me in. It’s so cold out here, and I just want . . . I just want to talk to you. Please.”
He paused for another second, but finally reached out, lifting the window slowly. “Who are you?”
The woman smiled, tears shining in her eyes as she moved from one foot back to the other. She itched at her neck and sniffled, then wiped her nose with her sleeve. She looked behind her and then climbed through the window, even though he hadn’t invited her inside. “Do you live here alone?”
Jak paused, figuring she was worried there was someone else inside who might hurt her. “Yes. It’s just me.”
She nodded, letting out her breath. “I left the car way up on the road and walked here. I came to the back of the house in case the front is being watched.”
Watched? No one was watching him. Was this woman acting this way because of the war?
Jak stepped back and she shut the window quickly, turning toward him, her eyes moving from his hair to his feet. She smiled again as she met his eyes. She was pretty, with long, black hair and smooth, tan skin, but her eyes had red around them, and she kept itching and moving like there was something wrong with her.
“Look at you,” she said, her eyes wet, teary. “You’re so handsome. I hoped you’d look like him, and you do.”
Jak frowned, confused and still nervous. “Who are you?” he asked again. “What do you want?”
She stepped closer and he stepped back, keeping his space though he was larger and stronger than the small woman in front of him. She reached her hand out, trying to touch his face and he moved back. Away. A tear fell from her eye and she dropped her hand. “I’m your mother.”
Shock made him go still. “My mother? How . . . I don’t have a mother.”
She stepped closer again and this time he didn’t step back. His mother?