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“Maybe.”
“Do you have any reason to suspect that it was Danny in your room that night?”
“I don’t remember enough about him to make that call.”
“I can see it for you.”
“No.”
“If a Quileute was involved, I’m sure I’ll be able to sense that. The reason my vision worked so well with Beth St. Regis, that TV host, is because it turns out Beth was Quileute herself. It might tell us what we want to know, Jim.”
“I think I already know it. I don’t need further confirmation, especially at the risk of harming you.”
Slicing her hand through the air, she said, “It doesn’t harm me.”
“It’s not a bed of roses for you, either.”
“Beds of roses are highly overrated. Look at you.”
His brows shot up. “Me?”
“Your life hasn’t been easy.”
“That’s an understatement. You don’t think I wanted it otherwise?”
“Sometimes we don’t get to choose. What you went through—all of it—made you the man you are today.”
“A wreck?” His lips twisted.
“Jim Kennedy, you are the strongest man I’ve ever met. Sure, you’re battered, bloodied, beaten up—but not defeated.”
“So, you’re saying you’re glad I went through hell?”
She smacked his arm. “Of course not. You know what I mean. I’m saying, if you can endure, I can endure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Let’s see what your grandmother has to say first. If we spill everything we suspect, she might be able to fill in some details.”
“But we won’t find any drugs at the reservation. There’s no way your brother could’ve hidden them there, and he wouldn’t have wanted to.”
“You’re right about that.” Jim drummed his fingers on his knee. “If the beginning was the attempt to kidnap me, maybe he hid them on our property.”
“And maybe that’s why he was stabbed. One of Danny’s guys came looking for the drugs and Dax wouldn’t tell him where they were.”
When Scarlett pulled up to the cabin, the yellow police tape crisscrossed over the porch was a stark reminder of his brother’s condition and the seriousness of their quest. Who would’ve guessed Dax Kennedy would turn out to be one of the good guys?
Jim opened the car door and turned to Scarlett. “Wait here. I’m going through the back and it’ll take me two minutes to change.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I leave the engine running...just in case.”
“You mean you’d leave me behind?”
“I mean in case someone approaches the house, so I can shift into gear and run him over.”
“Oh, in that case.” He flashed her a quick smile, but somehow he had the feeling she was dead serious.
It probably took him less than two minutes to exchange one pair of jeans and a T-shirt for another set and glance at the bloodstained entryway. If only Dax had confided in him. They could’ve handled this together. Dax still had the mind-set that he needed to protect his baby brother—just like he’d tried to protect him from their father during their childhood. Dax had played the role of the bad boy to allow Jim to be the good boy because the old man had needed—no, demanded—one son to follow in his criminal footsteps. Dax had sacrificed himself to spare him.
Jim swiped the back of his hand across his tingling nose.
He went out the back way and hopped in the running car. “You didn’t see anything unusual?”
“No.” She backed the car out of the driveway. “Unless you count stillness as unusual. The forest seems hushed today, like it’s holding its breath.”
“That’s your hypersensitivity kicking in. Let’s just hope you’re off base this time and there’s no impending tragedy waiting for Timberline.”
“If there is, we’re on the path to divert it.”
Scarlett drove to the reservation as if the answer was waiting for them there, but Jim didn’t think it was going to be that easy.
He tapped her thigh. “Slow down, lead foot.”
“I actually have my foot on the brake. It’s speeding up downhill.”
