was in hell. There’s a difference, don’t you think?”
“I don’t have time to decipher your cryptic comments. Why are you here?”
He stepped closer, and she gritted her teeth and made herself stand still despite the sweaty stench of his skin and the menace in his eyes. He had to weigh three times what she did, and she fought the urge to order him to back off. Showing fear would be an aphrodisiac to a man like him.
When she didn’t recoil, a grin spread across his face. “I like you, Chief. Little thing like you ought to be screaming and running for the boat, but you’re standing here like a she-bear defending her cubs.” His hand gestured to the barren area. “This place isn’t much to defend.”
“I don’t let vermin scare me. What do you want? It can’t be coincidence that you’re here.”
“I want you to call your mom and tell her to come here and face me.”
“Even if I agreed to do that, why would she listen? She’s never contacted me.”
“Because she has something I want. And she won’t want you involved.”
She was done playing games and backed up a step. “Then tell her yourself. She doesn’t care anything about me.”
“Where’d she put the stuff? You have to know.”
“What stuff? You’re not making any sense. I wasn’t with her all that much. She was always with Moses helping to manage the camp.”
Gabriel’s hands clenched. “You’re just playing dumb. I’ve gone over and over what happened, and those three days were the only time she was unaccounted for. You were with her. Where’d she take you?”
Jane shook her head. “I never spent three days away with her. You’ve got your facts wrong.”
“Lies. Always lies.” His face reddened. “I’ll show you.” He stalked off to a red tent and ducked inside, then returned moments later with several pictures in his hand. He thrust them at her. “That’s you right there. Driving off in the Jeep with your mother. You didn’t come back for three days. Now tell me another bald-faced lie.”
Jane took the pictures and leafed through them. She was clearly pregnant and looking at the vegetation and the skiff of snow. The pictures were likely taken about a month before Will was born. A month before the attack on the compound when she fled with her father, believing her son was dead.
A month before her life changed forever.
She had no memory of a day like the one in the photo though. Her mother had always busy, and Jane had often longed for even an undisturbed afternoon with her. Something that had never happened. The top picture showed her face turned toward her mother and the camera. Jane winced at her own expression of pure joy.
How could she forget something that would have been so important to her? She spied a duffel bag in the back of the topless Jeep, so they did appear to be going somewhere.
She clutched the pictures. “I’ll keep these.”
“Those are mine.”
“I don’t have many pictures of my mom, and they’re mine now.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t make a move to take them back. “So where did you put the stuff?”
“I have no idea. I don’t remember anything like this. Maybe someone altered the photo and made it look like we’d left together. We didn’t.”
“I took these photos myself. I watched you leave, and I saw you come back.” His gaze went shifty.
He was hiding something. Gabriel wouldn’t reveal anything unless he was ready.
He poked a finger at the top picture. “The picture in the rain with the top up is the day the two of you came back. These are authentic, and you’re just stalling.”
Jane couldn’t process this information with his eyes boring into her. She would have her forensic tech, Nora Craft, analyze them. Gabriel wasn’t the trustworthy sort, and Jane knew she’d never gone away with her mother for three days. Which meant these pictures were fake.
“You never answered my question about who gave you permission to camp here,” she said.
He folded meaty arms over his chest. “Out of your jurisdiction, Chief. I don’t answer to you.”
She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll make a few calls and find out if you’re here illegally. If you are, you can expect a visit from the authorities. So get packed up and ready to leave.” His smirk told her he had permission from someone.
When she turned to retrace her footsteps, he called after her, “This isn’t over, Jane Hardy. You’ll tell me what I want to know. One way