When the Dead Speak

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

"And you never looked in your father's jewelry box before?"

"I had no reason to. Everything has been packed away since his death."

"Damn." He held the pin between his fingers. "It's definitely the same. But he was too young to have been in the Korean War."

"Hap had one, Preston, Abbott, and now my father. It doesn't make any sense."

"We can't think on an empty stomach." Jake set the bowls of leftovers on the counter and they loaded their plates.

Sam picked at her food as Jake fingered the heavy silver bracelets and leather bands. He found a matching men's necklace. Her gaze swept over his muscular arms and the magnificent way he filled his blue Henley knit shirt. The room was filled with the subtle scent of his woodsy aftershave. She felt a warmth spreading rapidly through her body.

He held up a silver arrowhead on a leather cord. "Beautiful jewelry."

"Abby used to bring back jewelry from the reservation. That's how she met Alex. These are some of his earlier pieces."

"Tell me more about Alex."

"Alex Red Cloud. He's a fantastic jewelry maker, herbologist, animal doctor, does great rain dances."

Jake arched one eyebrow. "Rain dances?"

"He came here about ten years ago. Said that in a vision the spirits told him he had been chosen to protect wicasa wakan."

"What's that?" Jake retrieved two liqueur glasses from the cabinet.

"It's a holy man or medicine man, someone who speaks with the Wakinyan Oyate and heyoka, the Thunder-Beings and spirits. Abby is a wicasa wakan."

"Medicine woman?" Jake almost dropped the glasses on the counter. "Abby is a medicine woman?"

Amused by his reaction, Sam added, "Any powers I have that you try to dismiss logically were inherited not just from my grandmother, but also from my mother. Watch your thoughts around her, Jake." She smiled coyly. "She can see into your soul."

Jake seemed to be deep in thought, worry lines creasing his forehead. He snapped out of it, poured two glasses of Tia Maria liqueur and said, "Come on. I want to show you something."

She followed him into the study. They stood in front of the plexiboard.

"Who added this?"

"Guess I forgot to tell you." Jake told her about his conference call with Elvis and Phong Lee.

"And you didn't include me?"

"It happened too quickly. Then you were shooting off your mouth at Murphy. I left several messages that you conveniently ignored."

Sam walked up to the plexiboard, drew another line down from Hap's name, and wrote Preston's and Abbott's names. She drew a small lightning bolt by the three names.

Jake took the marker from her and wrote Samuel Casey's name near the date that Hap had died. He drew a lightning bolt by Samuel's name.

Sam pointed at the empty space between 1951 and 1977. "We still have to fill a pretty large gap."

"DMV hasn't been of any help," Jake said. "Records weren't computerized back in 1951. We're kind of at a standstill."

He sat down on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Tim find out anything about Preston's computer?"

"Preston's using some kind of fail-safe code. Tim found the first password-BYRON. But the program is set up so if you don't get the second password on the first try, something is executed. Tim's not sure what it is that is activated but he doesn't want to take any chances." Sam sat down next to Jake, resting her feet on the table by his.

"What about the CIA files?" Jake's arm found its way across the back of the couch behind her.

"He struck out there, too. So he focused on flight logs, but he didn't find anyone by the name of Cain. Cain probably used an alias." She could feel the heat radiating from Jake's arm and tried to focus on the plexiboard in front of her. "Tim will find a way to circumvent that password."

Sam pulled her father's pin from her pocket and studied it. "It's funny. When I first touched Hap's and Preston's pins, I got the distinct feeling that I had seen them before. Then, when I touched my father's, I saw the shapes again-drawn, sketched, traced, childlike drawings." She looked over at Jake, his chiseled features, his strong jaw line. She caught him staring at her legs and wondered if her cutoffs were too short.

She took a sip of the flavorful liqueur, then another. She felt warmth in the back of her throat. But what felt even better was Jake's protective arm. It felt good, too good. The phone rang. The portable unit was sitting on the end table. She had to reach over Jake to pick it up. His breath felt warm on her neck. The track lighting seemed to dim. The smell of burning logs permeated the air yet the fireplace wasn't on. Soft music played in the background, but the music had been turned off after dinner. It was becoming unusually warm in the room.

Jake picked up the phone and handed it to her.

"Hello?" Sam could hear someone breathing on the other end. "Hello, Casey residence." Then there was a dial tone. Sam looked at the phone and shrugged, setting it down on the coffee table.

Jake took the pin from her. "Maybe Frank's suggestion might pay off, to talk to the grandfather of one of Claudia's pupils. He served in Korea." Frank's wife, Claudia, was a part-time teacher. Frank had offered to pay the grandfather a visit. "Did you talk to Chief Connelley?" Jake asked.

"Yes. He thinks I should take a much-needed vacation. Keeps harping on how everything I do reflects on him, and he'd like Abby to tuck me away on the reservation til things blow over."

"Not a bad idea," Jake said under his breath as he set the pin on the coffee table. He moved his arm away from Sam and straightened up.

Sam checked her watch. "Where could Abby be? It's almost midnight."

"Maybe they went to a show. I'll wait for her if you want to go on up to bed."

"Maybe I will." She gave the board one last inspection.

"I think you are avoiding one crucial point."

She swung her gaze back to him. "What's that?"

"Don't you find it a little curious that Hap Wilson's death and your father's accident happened around the same time?"