A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury: A Silent Terror / A Silent Fury. Lynette Eason
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“Go right ahead. We’ll be there in about an hour.”
* * *
The rest of the drive passed in peaceful silence, broken only by the sound of the video game coming from the backseat. Finally, Ethan pulled into the entrance to a small, well-kept farm. The long driveway wound around and up to the side of a large white house with black shutters.
Even in January, the grass was green, showing loving care and skill in the maintenance of the property. Two horses grazed behind the house out in the large pasture. A brown barn nestled underneath a grove of trees gleamed in the bright sun; bales of hay stacked neatly to the side brought to Ethan’s mind the one summer he’d gone to a wilderness camp. He’d been about nine years old, and he and his cabin buddies had sneaked down to the barn and scattered and piled the hay about five feet deep under the loft.
They’d had themselves a blast jumping into the mess. He’d been sent home early, and his parents had never let him forget it. But he wouldn’t have given up those rare carefree moments for anything…not even his parents’ short-in-supply approval.
Marianna’s eyes flickered open when he put the car into Park. “We’re here?”
“Yep. Safe and sound.” Thank You, God.
She gave him a small sleepy smile and his heart lurched. Uh-uh. She was part of a case. Don’t get your emotions involved with a case.
Then he wondered what their first date would be like.
Get out of the car, O’Hara.
He climbed out and Marianna followed, opening the back door for Josh. Josh put his game away and let out a squeal when he realized he was home.
As he ran for the fence that held the horses in the pasture, the door to the house opened, revealing a heavyset, gray-haired woman in her late sixties.
Grief showed on her plain face, but her joy at seeing Josh shone through. “Joshie!”
The woman smiled at him hanging over the rail petting the nose of his favorite horse. The change in the boy was remarkable as he leaned over to go nose to nose with his four-legged friend.
Then with sadness replacing her momentary joy, she headed over to him and Marianna. “Thank you so much for bringing him home. My husband fell last week and injured his ankle, so us driving over to get Josh would have been a hardship.”
Marianna reached out to hug the woman saying, “It’s no problem, Mrs. Luck. I wanted to be here for Josh and you, too.”
Tears welled but didn’t fall. “It’s hard to believe this has happened; at the height of Roland’s career, too.” She sighed, shaking her short gray curls. “But I guess it’s not always for us to understand.”
Marianna kept her own tears at bay through fierce determination. Then Josh’s grandmother waved a hand in front of her face as though swatting away a fly and said, “Come in, come in. I have a fresh pot of coffee on. Let’s sit down a few minutes.”
Everyone trudged into the kitchen, leaving Josh with his horses. He would be fine, Marianna knew. She took note of the house as she followed Mrs. Luck. Pride showed in every part Marianna could lay eyes on. From the scented plug-ins to the plethora of pictures on every available surface. Pictures on the wall, pictures on the end tables, knickknacks, family mementos. It reminded Marianna a little of her own childhood home. Maybe that’s why she liked Mrs. Luck so much. The woman resembled Marianna’s mother in a lot of ways. Marianna picked up a picture of Josh when he was about six years old and dressed in army fatigues.
Mrs. Luck saw her interest and stopped to say, “That’s Joshie, taking after his daddy. Roland served twelve years in the army along with some buddies of his that he went to school with. Most of them are in politics now.” A myriad of pictures cluttered the table, and she wished she had the time to study each one.
“I remember seeing photos Josh brought to school for Veterans Day.”
A sad smile curved the woman’s lips.
“And that one is my daughter, Lisa, and her family.” Marianna studied the picture framed in a simple black rectangle. Ethan stepped up behind her to look. His nearness sent a sudden shiver of awareness zipping along her nerves. When his hand rested on her shoulder, she noticed it felt…right. As if it belonged there.
Briefly, she met his gaze and noticed he’d felt it, too… and wasn’t quite sure what to think about it either. He let his eyes linger on hers, his fingers gave a gentle squeeze and pressure danced along her nerve endings.
Mrs. Luck intruded on the moment as she motioned them on.
Ethan let his hand drop to hers, entwining their fingers as he led her to the kitchen.
Sitting at the round table, sipping coffee, Marianna, Mrs. Luck and Ethan chatted for a few moments. Then Marianna ventured, “Well, I guess we need to see about getting a couple of hotel rooms for the night. I know the funeral is tomorrow. Can you suggest a place for us to stay?”
“Why don’t you stay here with us? We have plenty of room. All my kids are grown and…gone.” Looking away, she got a hold of her emotions once more, then offered a weak smile. “Don’t reckon I’ll ever get used to thinking of Roland as gone permanently.”
“I know it’s hard,” Ethan murmured, “losing someone you love. I lost my sister three years ago.”
“Oh, you do understand then, don’t you?” Mrs. Luck nodded. “It’s really strange, too, because he had just come home for a short visit.”
Mariana perked up at that. “Really? Josh didn’t say anything about seeing his father on the weekend.” Usually, if Josh had seen his dad over the weekend, he would come in Monday morning signing, “See Daddy. See Daddy. See Daddy.” Sometimes it was all Marianna could do to get him focused back on his work.
“No—” Mrs. Luck shook her head for emphasis “—no, it wasn’t on the weekend. It was last week. In fact it was Monday afternoon. It was so odd for him to just show up out of the blue like that. I wondered what was going on, but he claimed he was just here to visit, although it did seem something was bothering him.” The woman sniffed and wiped her nose with what was left of the frayed tissue she held. “Well, now I wonder if he had some kind of… idea…inkling that something was going to happen to him.”
Again, Marianna felt compassion sweep her. “Who knows what was going on with him? It could have simply been a bad weekend or week for him. You know how it is in politics.”
Mrs. Luck gave a watery chuckle. “Well, you’re certainly right there. I don’t guess I’ll ever know what was going through his head.” She slapped the table and stood. “Let me check on my husband and see about getting you a couple of rooms fixed up.”
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