Robert simply stared back, not knowing what to say. He was relieved when Nugget wandered over to greet Ben, her tail swooshing happily back and forth.
“Jesus, Bobby. What happened to your face?”
“I got it from the car accident last night. Doctor says it’s going to be really ugly for awhile, may even get worse.”
Ben wiped his hands with a greasy rag before reaching out and patting Nugget on the head. “You better put ice on it.”
“I will.”
“How’s the shoulder?”
“Still hurts.”
“Well if I was your boss I’d tell you to stay home. You shouldn’t be out running around in your condition.”
“I know. But I’ve got some stuff to take care of.”
“Couldn’t it wait another day or two?”
“No. I’ve got to write some checks and get them in the mail, stuff like that.”
“Oh.”
“I was also wondering if you could do me a big favor and watch Nugget for me tonight.”
Ben’s eyes widened a little. “Sure. Are you taking the family somewhere?”
“Yeah,” Robert lied. “We’re going over to my mother’s tonight for dinner. Her new husband doesn’t like dogs very much.”
“Well I’d be honored.”
“Great. I’ve got some canned food for her in the break room.” Robert smiled and turned to let Ben get back to work on the Honda.
“By the way, what should I tell Will? He’s been looking for you, said he’s been trying to call.”
Will was Robert’s best friend and had been responsible for introducing Robert to Peggy. They’d lived through a lot of things together, and if you added them all up they could have easily filled several lifetimes. He’d felt guilty for just watching Will’s number come up on the caller i.d. and not picking up. But he couldn’t take the chance of calling him back right now—not until he figured out what the hell was going on. He knew from experience that Will possessed an even superior bullshit meter than Ben’s.
“Tell him I’ll call him first thing in the morning.”
“Can do,” Ben said. He wandered back to the crumpled Honda.
Nugget followed Robert to his office, where she crawled onto an old couch and went to sleep. Robert quietly took care of what things he needed to and later tiptoed out of the office. Nugget had heard him leave the room, but she hadn’t raised her head until he’d started the truck. When she realized what was happening, she flew off the couch and skidded across the polished linoleum to catch him before he drove away. But the back door wasn’t propped open as usual—Robert had shut it on his way out. Nugget stood up on her hind legs and scratched at the door with her front paws and whined as the sound of the truck drifted away.
Robert felt terrible about ditching her, but what could he do? Bringing her to the park with him tonight was too risky. She was safer with Ben. If he never returned, Ben would certainly take care of her.
He drove home and spent the next several hours cleaning and straightening the house. At the moment it felt like the only right thing to do. His family would be coming home soon and he didn’t want any horrible reminders of what had happened. It would also give him a chance to take some kind of inventory.
The inside of the house looked like a tornado had torn through. Robert gathered up the unbroken things and placed them back where they belonged. Next came the many items ruined beyond repair, and he stuffed them inside two plastic garbage bags and set them in the garage.
Once finished, he discovered that very few items were actually missing. What was missing made no sense. The photo albums and genealogy book he’d kept stored in a glass cabinet were gone. Also, the old family portraits he’d had framed after his father’s death—grainy pictures going as far back as the turn of the last century—had vanished from the walls.
Why?
He took a hot shower and tried to loosen the knots in his back and shoulder muscles. In less than three hours he would be in a fight for his life, for his family’s life. If he survived, then maybe the men behind this would start to reveal why they were doing this, why they’d taken such an interest in his family history.
It’s really about two families, isn’t it? There’s another father out there just like me, right now, with his own family to protect. What gives you the right to survive and not him?
CHAPTER 9
Robert had taken his share of licks from schoolyard bullies, but by the time he went to high school he’d surpassed most of them in size and strength. He lifted weights and ran during lunch breaks. There was no time in his life for things like football and track. His father needed him at the shop, had refused to hire on another full time employee when he could have his son do it for nearly nothing. The few precious hours he had left in the evenings were spent on studying. Sometimes he’d try painting landscapes with oils, but never seemed able to finish anything he was proud of.
Except for times when he found himself having to protect someone, Robert was mostly left alone by the hot heads and fight-pickers in high school. He was good at avoiding trouble, knew when it was time to give others a wide berth. It wasn’t until years later—when his father came back to work after his stroke—that violent forces came knocking…
He wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror. His reflection caused him to gasp. The bruise on the left side of his face was dark and rubbery. He put some antibacterial cream on his cuts, dressed a gash on his knee with a fresh bandage.
While changing into clean clothes, he became aware of a strange disconnected feeling. How did he really know if he wasn’t still in the hospital? What if the car accident had been much worse? Could I actually be in a coma right now?
He wondered if it were possible that he’d imagined the break-in, that his subconscious mind might have concocted the entire kidnapping scenario, even replaced the doctors who were trying to save him with men in black ski masks…
He sat still on the edge of the bed, listening to the sound of his own blood humming in his ears. At the moment he felt as if he were caught between two competing realities.
Even if it all turns out to be false, you still have to trust that it’s real. Peggy and Connor’s lives could be at stake.
But what if it’s not real?
Stop driving a wedge into your sanity with stupid ideas. You aren’t lying in a hospital bed in a coma. No fucking way…
As he left the house, he noticed a picture taped to the front of Connor’s bedroom door. It was a family portrait the boy had drawn with colored pens. Peggy, Connor and Robert were standing on a sunny beach with big blue waves crashing behind them. Nugget was swimming in the surf of course, while a whiskered sea lion strained its neck to watch.
A smile spread across Robert’s face. Connor’s artwork always had the same affect on him. The boy had a gift for capturing those special moments when they were together as a family, and Robert had bought him scrapbooks to save his drawings in.
I’m not imagining this. Not a chance in hell…
Being careful not to tear the taped edges, he removed the picture from the door and folded it before sticking it in his pocket. If he ended up dying tonight, at least he’d have something to take with him.
After he locked up the house, he drove in search of a quiet dark place where he could eat some dinner and think.
CHAPTER 10
Jared Horn had not always filled his neighbor’s hearts with such hatred. For years he’d led a quiet, idyllic existence just outside Wrath Butte.