Nightchild

Chapter 56

"God, I'm glad you're home," Heathe said, greeting Nate at the kitchen door. "I was getting' worried you might of run into some problems. Hungry?"

"Thanks," Nathan said, sitting at the table and accepting the bowl of chili before going on. "No problems, just decided to play it safe, so I wasted a lot of time renting a car. I didn't want to take the chance of mine being spotted if I did run into trouble." He looked up from his food. "Where's Blythe?"

"Been locked in her room most of the day. I'm sorry, boss, but she knows

about Weber's letter."

Nate pushed his bowl away, his appetite gone. "Whadaya mean knows about it? She didn't read it, did she? How the hell did—"

"Don't know for certain," Heathe broke in, joining him at the table. "But she had enough time." He was reluctant to relate what had happened and was relieved when his friend brushed it aside, saying it was unfortunate but couldn't be helped.

"It's my fault. I should have gotten rid of the damn thing. Where's the letter now?" Nate asked, sounding wary at the thought of having to deal with Blythe over this latest issue.

"Ashes."

"Good! That's what I should have done with it in the first place."

The blonde nodded his agreement. "Actually, I made a copy of it and put the original in the safe in case we need it. But I let Blythe see me burning the copy. Did you do any good?"

Nate shrugged. "Getting' in was easy. The door was left unlocked, just as if I'd been expected. But I went through Weber's house with a fine-toothed comb and never figured out what I was lookin' for. Then I swear, Conan, it was like fate. I was sitting there on the couch, thumbing through an old photo album for the third time when this one picture caught my eye. It was of Blythe with her brother and Scott. She was up in a tree, laughing down at them. Must have been eleven or twelve...just starting to blossom, no makeup, her hair pushed under a baseball cap showing her fresh freckled face.

"The boys must have been seniors or older. They had letter jackets on. Anyway, I couldn't get over the similarities. I'd seen it before when I met Phil. But this was different. Seeing them in the picture together still young, Blythe's face before it took on refined feminine qualities, the resemblance was remarkable, except for one thing that's hard to put into words." Nate tilted his head at Heathe and smiled. "Ya know that stubbornness, the vivaciousness, the strength? It was there even then, shining from bright intelligent eyes. But there was something dull, indolent in Phil's. You know, like he was doomed to live in the shadow of this little girl years younger than himself."

"I know the look," Heathe affirmed. "So, what was the fateful part?"

"Something kept drawing me back to this picture next to it. It was of Phil and Scott again, this time, without Blythe. They were a couple of years older, taller, more mature looking. They were each holding...well, hell, see for yourself." Nate withdrew a crimped photo from the jacket he'd tossed over the back of his chair and held it out. Heathe leaned close, peering at the tiny spot where Nate pointed. "Right here, see on his hand, the ring."

The blond studied the picture of the two friends each proudly holding a string of nice-sized catfish. The tip of Nate's finger almost covered Scott Weber's hand and he pushed it out of the way in order to see what he was talking about then shot him a dubious look. "That could be anything, especially a class ring."

"Yeah, but it's red. See the way it reflects the light?"

"That could have been from the flash."

"Could have, but not in broad daylight. No, it's a red ring and I know for a fact their school colors are, and always have been, gold and blue. Besides, look closer. There's somethin' going through the middle."