Page 63 of Cougar Point

The call ends.

Ronnie asks, “Does Dad know about this one?”

“I came and got you as soon as the call ended.”

Ronnie says, “No secrets. We have to tell him.”

“But not Lucas,” I say. “Not yet, at least.”

Rebecca is gripping the phone hard enough to break the screen. “He said there’s another gift. Oh, God! What do we do?”

Victoria might have been forced to give the kidnappers information about security at the house, but she couldn’t tell them who was doing what. Either the kidnappers are watching the house, or they have someone that is keeping tabs on us and Lucas.

“Rebecca, you and Ronnie check the mail and search the front of the property.”

Ronnie asks, “What are you going to do?”

“Give me your phone, Rebecca.” She does. “I’m going to talk to Jack. He needs to get the money. They’ll call again. They’re greedy. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s in his office. He hasn’t come out this morning.”

The call Rebecca just received reminds me of a warning I’ve been receiving. Someone calling themselves “Wallace” has been sending emails to my work and my personal accounts. The emails are becoming increasingly threatening. I’ve made some enemies since becoming a detective, but these threats are to expose my past. A past that if ever exposed, would be the end of my career. The end of my relationships. The end of me. I’d have to start over again. New name, new appearance, new apartment, new job. No friends. The thought makes me feel ill. Whoever Wallace is, he doesn’t want me to let the past go. He wants to punish me with it. He doesn’t seem to realize that my past should be a warning to him. Much like the warning given in the phone call to Rebecca. I still wonder if these threats are not payback of some sort for whatever Jack has done.

I remember my stalker’s last email:I doubt you know what it’s like to be hurt so deeply you’ve lost part of yourself. I know what it feels like. Soon, Rylee, you will too.

Jack knows what it’s like to be hurt so deeply he’s lost. But he knows more than he’s telling. He’d already talked to Lucas and tried to shut Rebecca down. He was too calm when Rebecca told him about the first call threatening his wife if we didn’t stop looking into her disappearance. He only came clean about the photos and the ransom demandafterhis wife’s finger arrived. Why? What does he know?

The calls may be made to Rebecca but directed at him. To make him afraid. To make him suffer. Maybe Jack did some bad things in his past and is being punished for it now. The kidnappers, a man and a woman as far as we know, may want more than money. They may want revenge. But for what? Because the Marshes are wealthy? If so, why Victoria? Why not Rebecca? I’m sure Jack is the target. He’s the one with the power. And the money. I’m still not convinced one hundred percent Jack’s not behind this.

I knock on Jack’s office door. He doesn’t answer but I’m sure he’s in there. I knock more insistently, and Jack says, “It’s unlocked.”

Jack’s office is spacious with every wall covered with shelves of books and pictures and paintings. One wall is full of legal tomes, some look ancient, some new. He’s also an art collector. Leaning against the shelves are a dozen or more water paintings. Most are of the bay with sailboats and suns. I notice they are laid out in the order where you see the sun at its zenith and sequentially sinking toward the horizon. The last painting is of a beautiful sunset with reds and golds and blues saturating the striated clouds.

“You have quite a collection.”

“Those are Victoria’s. She has a small studio downstairs.”

“They’re beautiful. Does she show them?”

“She’s given some away. But not these. She did these for me when we first moved into the house. I plan to hang these someday. She’s quite talented.”

He’s sitting behind a mahogany desk, a bay window behind him, a credenza below the window. “You should hang them in order on the wall leading to the window. You can watch the sunset from here and it will be like going back in time.”

A sad look crosses his face. “If only.” He’s quiet for a moment and I take a seat beside his desk. “I take it you’ve found something.”

“Yes. Rebecca just got another call.”

I wonder if he’s heard me but then his eyes widen. “Oh my god! Is she dead?”

“We don’t think so, but there’s bad news. First I want you to tell me why your wife has been sleeping in her reading room.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you. I suggest you leave that avenue for the real authorities.”

Asshole. “Ronnie and I have been deputized by your friend. Sheriff Longbow. Wearethe real authorities. Your daughters are doing everything they can to find your wife while you sit here looking out the window. Don’t you care?”

His expression is one of anger but his eyes are wet. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You’re only here at the invitation of my daughter. You’re staying under my roof. If you persist in insulting me, I’ll call your sheriff and you’ll be home before you can say you’re sorry. Do you understand me?”

I lean forward on the desk. “I’ll speak to you any way that will bring you back to doing what you should be doing. What the police should be doing. What you have the resources to scour the state to do. I understand where you’re coming from Mr. Marsh, but now you understand me. I’m going to find your wife. I won’t stop until I do. And if you’ve harmed her in any way, you’ll findyour ass sitting in prison and not among your wealth. Got it? If you’re holding something back that causes her death, I’ll make you…sorry.”Get it under control. He’s not the enemy.

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