Westin Family Ties
Alice Sharpe
Cody Westin had been a man on a mission since the moment his wife, Cassie, walked away under a cloud of secrecy. She had her reasons, but a Westin never gives up without a fight.So when, after six long months, he was reunited with the woman he'd sworn to love, honor and cherish, it was her very pregnant belly and the fact that she'd been accused of unspeakable crimes that made him realize just how much had changed. Knowing she'd be safer by his side, they headed back to Wyoming and the life Cassie seemed desperate to leave behind. Unfortunately, danger followed, and now Cody not only had a marriage to protect, but the lives of those who mattered most. Would the trouble bring them closer together–or tear their newfound family apart?
All these months he’d anticipated this moment.
For one interminable moment, he stared into Cassie’s startled sky-blue eyes and couldn’t have felt more winded if a runaway horse had tossed him to the ground and landed on top of him.
But in the end, nothing had prepared him for the almost physical punch in his heart that came with the first glimpse of her face. The creamy skin, the gently arched brows, the too-wide mouth and slightly long nose, attributes that saved her from cuteness and transported her to true beauty.
And then his gaze dipped lower and everything changed forever.
The simple gold band he’d given her three years before still circled her ring finger.
What was new was the bulging belly beneath where her hand rested. She was pregnant.
And not just a little bit.
Westin Family Ties
Alice Sharpe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to my mother, Mary Rose LeVelle.
I will miss you forever.
Many thanks to Kellie Waggener who shared not only her
expertise, but also her passion and excitement for the animals and
lifestyle that define family ranching.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.
Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 755, Brownsville, OR 97327. An SASE for reply is appreciated.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Cody Westin —The oldest of the Westin brothers, he thinks he knows why Cassie left him but he’s in for a surprise. Now he must not only plumb the very depths of his heart to understand himself, but also foil the relentless killer who is after her—and their future.
Cassie Westin —She’s been living in limbo with a broken heart and an explosive secret. Can she can rebuild her marriage—or will her recent past exact an excruciating price on everyone she loves?
Vera Priestly —What does this wealthy, elderly woman really see the night she peers out her window into the dark?
Dennis Garvey —This rebellious teen has plenty of reasons to feel vengeful toward the Westin family. Is he angry enough to target the most vulnerable member for ultimate destruction?
Victoria Banner —Vera’s daughter likes the good life. When that is threatened, she goes on the attack and it doesn’t appear anyone is safe from her wrath.
Emerson Banner —He’s been handling his mother-in-law’s finances for years but she’s on to his cheating ways. How far will he go to protect himself? Who will he destroy in the process?
Robert Banner —After his grandmother’s death, this successful restaurateur begins to implode. Is his grief fueled by family troubles or are there other factors at work?
Donna Cooke —She’s under a lot of stress, but there’s one thing she knows for sure: what’s hers is hers.
Bennie Yates —What part, if any, did he play in the events that resulted in death and destruction?
Kevin Cooke —He disappears the day after a murder. Now it seems he’s everywhere but in plain sight. What is he up to? Can anyone find him before it’s too late?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Late October, Saturday Night
Her new name, spoken in a whisper, woke her from a troubled sleep.
“Laura?”
She glanced at the clock as she reached for the monitor button. Two o’clock. Before she could respond, the voice continued.
“Come quickly. Don’t turn on any lights. Hurry.”
Untangling herself from the rumpled bed sheets, Laura grabbed her robe off the end of the big four-poster, fumbling in the dark.
No lights? Why?
Her employer’s suite was through a connecting door, and Laura took the familiar steps quickly, concern for Mrs. Priestly making her heart race. The old lady wasn’t well, and after the stress of the evening who knew what had happened?
The bed seemed to be empty. Fearing a heart attack or a broken hip, she scanned the Persian carpets. “Mrs. Priestly?”
The responding voice crackled with undercurrents of distress. “Over here, by the window.”
Laura finally made out Mrs. Priestly’s frail shape enveloped in the chair that overlooked the riverside garden at the back of the house. In the daylight hours, the view was one of Mrs. Priestly’s favorites.
But this was the middle of a fall night and not a typical night, either, not even for Idaho. A storm had broken earlier that evening, and all that was visible through the window now were shifting shadows thrown by wind-whipped branches and shrubbery. “You shouldn’t have gotten up without calling for my help,” Laura said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Mrs. Priestly grabbed Laura’s arm. “I think I just witnessed a murder!”
“What! Where?”
The old lady pointed a gnarled finger at the window. “Right out there by the fountain. Can you see a body?”
Laura peered into the night, but the shadows were too deep. “No. Can you?”
Mrs. Priestly craned her neck but finally shook her head. “No, not now.”
“Tell me what happened,” Laura coaxed, hoping the act of talking it out would convince Mrs. Priestly she’d been having a nightmare.
“Well, I just couldn’t sleep. You know when your mind just keeps racing and racing and you wish you’d said this or you hadn’t said that?”
“Oh, yes,” Laura said, kneeling beside the old woman’s chair with some difficulty. “Yes, I know that feeling.”
“Well, I decided I could make it as far as the window without bothering you. You do need your sleep, you know. So I sat here for a while, and then I guess I dozed. I don’t know what woke me, but I swear I saw movement out by the fountain, so I stared harder. It looked like two people. One turned toward the river and took a few steps. I think it was a man.
“The next thing I knew, the other person struck him to the ground, but when I looked again it all seemed to dissolve. That’s when I called you, Laura. I hate to admit on tonight of all nights that I need Victoria and Emerson’s help, but I guess I do. You’ll have to go awaken them.”
Every protective bone in Laura’s body recoiled at the thought of involving Mrs. Priestly’s son-in-law. She’d witnessed Emerson Banner sneering behind Mrs. Priestly’s back more than once before tonight. And then there was the argument she’d overheard after dinner. Mrs. Priestly had been shaking when she finally allowed Laura to help her into bed.
“I have an idea,” Laura hedged. “Before we disturb Mr. Banner or your daughter, let me go outside and make sure you didn’t see a falling tree limb or something else equally ordinary. It’s really stormy out there and the light is tricky.”
“I know what I saw,” Mrs. Priestly insisted, but a second later, doubt crept into her voice as she added, “Would you really do that for me? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“We have to look out for each other, don’t we, dear?”
Laura smiled and gave the old woman an impromptu hug. “You bet we do. I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”
“Just don’t take any chances. You see one little thing out of place and we’ll call the police. Okay?”
“Of course,” Laura agreed, sincerely hoping it didn’t come to that. She grabbed a throw off the bed and tucked it around the old lady’s thin shoulders. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “Don’t move.” She was rewarded with a shaky hand that gripped her arm for a moment.
Laura detoured through her own room to slip on shoes and grab a flashlight, then hurried down the hall. The huge old house was very dark, but thankfully the steep stairs were lit by well-placed lights.
In the kitchen she opened the door leading to the back garden. The outside lights refused to go on—something that had happened a couple of times before since Laura took this job. At least the rain had stopped.
There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind when she made the offer to conduct a search that Mrs. Priestly, still upset from the evening’s altercations, had confused a dream with the images of the stormy night. But now a sense of urgency grew more acute as she hurried down the brick path toward the fountain. She shined the flashlight everywhere as she moved, illuminating the gloom ahead, anxiety raising the hair on her arms and tingling her spine.
The fountain was a huge circular affair that towered over her head. Atop it, a trio of marble fish spouted water. Tonight, the wind caught the water and sprayed it into a fine mist.
Using the flashlight, Laura investigated the fountain and the area around it. There was a broken paver near the base, but it could have been that way for years, as others were cracked and one was even missing. There was no sign of foul play, nor, miraculously considering the weather, any downed branches, though leaves and yard debris flurried across the ground.
The rain started falling again as she looked up at the house, zeroing in on Mrs. Priestly’s dark bedroom window. Big drops splashed against her bare head and face. She moved her search farther afield and checked the gate that opened to the path running along the river, as she could hear it banging against the center post. Impossible to tell how long it had been open—the latch was rusty. Propping the flashlight between her chin and shoulder, she used both hands to tug it closed.
A figure appeared on the path outside, looming in the dark. Hands reached out, grabbed the gate and shook it. Startled, Laura dropped her flashlight to the ground and backed into the yard.
“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice demanded, and a second later a small flashlight flicked on. Its light hit Laura in the eyes, then lowered. “Laura? What are you doing out in this weather? Open the gate at once.”
Laura bent to pick up her flashlight as she placed the voice—Victoria Banner, Mrs. Priestly’s middle-aged daughter. “I’ll hold it open for you,” she said as she fumbled with the lock.
Victoria, swathed in a rain slicker with a hood, came through the gate like royalty. She paused as Laura secured the latch once again. When she spoke, her voice was sharp. “What’s going on?”
Laura wasn’t about to tell the truth, not yet anyway. “I was looking for your mother’s shawl out in the garden when I heard the gate rattling.”
“What would Mother’s shawl be doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“I thought I might have left it outside earlier, before the weather turned. She may need it in the morning.”
“We’re not paying you to be careless. Be sure to lock the kitchen door when you come inside.” And with that she was off, her heels clicking against the stones, the small light she held in front of her disappearing into the gloom.
Victoria Banner wasn’t paying Laura, period; her mother was. Besides, what was she doing out this late? And why had her hands been shaking when she grabbed the gate? Laura shook her head and knew she would never have the answers.
As she was getting wetter and colder by the minute, she forced herself to stop speculating and turned her attention back to the task at hand. She scanned the rain-soaked lawn, searching the grass for a sign someone had been dragged across it or had crawled away.
“Laura?”
This voice came from the back of the house. Now what? She turned her light onto an approaching figure who carried a light of his own, and with some relief she recognized Mrs. Priestly’s grandson, Robert Banner. She’d forgotten he’d come for dinner and stayed to visit with his parents, who also lived in Mrs. Priestly’s mansion, something he did one or two nights a month.
“I saw a light out here when I went to close my window. Then I ran into Mother on the stairs. She said you were out here looking for a shawl. Need help?” He was dressed as she was, in pajamas and a robe the wind whipped around his legs. “You’re very wet,” he added. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
“There actually isn’t a lost shawl,” she admitted. “I lied.” She pushed long strands of wet hair away from her eyes as she told him about what his grandmother thought she’d seen.
Robert immediately began a search of his own. When he discovered, as she had, there was nothing to see, he took her arm. “The weather is getting worse. Let’s go inside.”
They hurried back to the house. Robert stepped into the laundry room as Laura fought off a chill that didn’t have a whole lot to do with being cold. He tossed her a dry towel.
“I have to tell your grandmother she was mistaken,” Laura said, as she dabbed at her face. “Since there were no fallen branches to explain what she saw, she’ll want to call the police.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray how uneasy that thought made her. And then she had a thought.
“Remember a couple of months ago when I brought your grandmother to your restaurant for lunch? I took a wrong turn somewhere in the back hallway and ended up running into a guy outside your office. He introduced himself as your friend. His name was different. Taipan, that’s it. Detective Taipan. If we have to contact the authorities, maybe you could call your friend and ask him to investigate unofficially so your grandmother isn’t humiliated if she’s mistaken.”
Robert was a nice-looking man creeping toward forty, with fair hair and light eyes, the kind of guy who would look young his whole life. But what warmed him to Laura’s heart was that he made the time to visit Mrs. Priestly on a regular basis, and that couldn’t be easy coupled with the demands of running a successful restaurant.
“I have a better idea,” he said. “I don’t know how much of our family dynamics you’ve gathered since you’ve worked for Grandma…”
“I try to mind my own business,” she said.
“Yeah, well, the truth is my father and Grandma’s own lawyer are doing their best to prove she’s incompetent so they can take over her affairs.”
Laura had suspected as much. She’d picked up on several innuendos. She suspected Mrs. Priestly had, too.
“I know Grandma is well over ninety and failing in many ways, but she seems perfectly lucid to me,” Robert continued. “Everything kind of hit the fan tonight when she got a good look at her investment portfolio. She accused Dad of mishandling her accounts. She went so far as to threaten an audit.” He raked a hand through his wet hair and sighed. “If she insists she saw a murderer, Dad and that shyster Gibbons will use it to argue her mind is slipping. And if they get power of attorney, they’ll call all the shots.”
“But your mother and sister would never agree to that.”
“Mom will do whatever Dad tells her to do. And Donna is great, but her husband has sunk all her assets in that string of auto-repair shops, and I hear things aren’t going well.”
“Donna is over here all the time. She’s very sweet with your grandmother.”
“Still, right now she has other things on her mind.” He took a deep breath and regarded Laura with anxious eyes. “I don’t think my grandmother is senile, do you?”
She met his gaze. “No, I don’t.”
“Good. You spend the most time with her, so if she was slipping—”
“I haven’t noticed anything like that.”
“Okay. Let’s go talk to her together. Maybe she saw a couple of kids having a fight. If she’s still sure she saw a murder, then we’ll call the authorities. How does that sound?”
Laura nodded, relieved for his help. One way or another, Robert would take care of things now, which suited her fine. She wanted no one in an official capacity to look into the nonexistent past of Laura Green. She wasn’t ready for that yet. A few more weeks…
They hurried upstairs, careful to make as little noise as possible.
Thursday Afternoon
CODY WESTIN had already decided this meeting with his detective in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, would be the last one. Two other times he’d come running from the family ranch in Wyoming when Smyth dug up leads. The first had been in March, soon after Cassie left him. That time had proven to be a false sighting. The next had been a couple of months ago, only they’d found the woman using Cassie’s identification and driving her car had actually stolen them. The theft hadn’t been reported, which left Cody wondering if Cassie was dead or alive. He knew Smyth had a new lead, but Cody wasn’t counting on a miracle, not anymore.
“I have a name for you,” Smyth said. He was about Cody’s age, late thirties. While no one would ever look at Cody and peg him for anything but exactly what he was—a guy who spent a lot of time out in the weather riding horses, mending fences and herding cattle— Smyth had a street look that made him fit in just about anywhere. He was dressed as Cody was, in boots and jeans, but he sported a Giants baseball cap instead of a dusty brown Stetson.
“I just received solid information that Cassie was seen at the home of a local woman four months ago,” Smyth said. “The lead was a little late coming because the woman who stole your wife’s things lied about when and where she stole them. Since the DA struck a deal with her, she swears the theft took place in Coeur d’Alene, so I looked harder at Cassie’s background. Turns out her older cousin graduated from a very small high school and one of the cousin’s closest friends married and settled here.”
“You talked to Lisa about Cassie? She won’t answer any of my phone calls or emails.”
“I didn’t talk to her. I snooped around behind her back. It’s what you pay me for. Anyway, the friend’s name is Emma Kruger, who employs a cleaning service. One of the women on the team that cleans the Kruger house swears she saw Cassie in a car with Emma Kruger. This is the address.”
He slid a piece of paper across the table and Cody picked it up. This was his first time in Coeur d’Alene, so the street address meant nothing to him but the timing did. “So as of a few months ago, and well after the theft of her identity, Cassie was alive.”
“It looks that way,” Smyth said. “We’ll know in a few minutes when we drive out there and talk to Emma Kruger and make sure this isn’t another red herring.”
Cody pocketed the paper. “I’m going to handle this myself,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Smyth didn’t sound too surprised.
Cody nodded once as he took from his pocket a cashier’s check made out to the investigator. “This is the end of the line for me. If Cassie is alive and still avoiding me, then it’s time to call it quits. I need to put my energy back into our ranch. My father and brothers need me there. They’ve covered for me enough.”
The detective took the check, looked at it and then folded it in thirds. “If you find her, what then?”
“I just want to know what happened,” Cody said, but internally, he was enough of a man to wince. You know what happened, he told himself. You know why she left you.
Wishing he was already back in Wyoming tending to business, he got to his feet and picked up his hat. He started to take out his wallet to pay for the late lunch, but Smyth held up a hand. “It’s on me. Good luck, Mr. Westin.”
EMMA KRUGER TURNED OUT to live in a very large, very white lakeside home complete with its own pier, dockage and what appeared to be a sunning island accessible by a walkway. Cody glimpsed this from the road that curved around an inlet of the lake. The driveway itself emptied out in front of the house, where a black BMW was parked in front of a closed garage. At four o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, the only sign of life was a gray-and-white cat stalking a bird on a patch of grass.
He rang the bell and waited for a minute or so until he heard running footsteps and the door opened. A woman a few years younger than himself stood there panting. She wore black leggings and a purple racer back tank. A stretchy band circled her forehead and kept wispy strands of brown hair from getting in her eyes.
“You caught me midworkout,” she said a little breathlessly. “What can I do for you?”
Subtlety wasn’t in Cody’s nature. He took off his hat and produced what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile. “I’m trying to locate my wife. I was told you might be able to help me.”
The woman looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. Oh, wait, are you one of Nathan’s football coaches? Laci’s husband, maybe?”
“No, Ma’am. My name is Cody. My wife is Cassie Westin. Cassandra. You were a good friend of Cassie’s cousin, Lisa Davis, back in high school. I have a photograph—”
Her thin lips compressed. “I don’t know any of those people,” Emma said, and started to close the door.
He caught it in one hand. “I don’t know what Cassie told you about me and I guess I don’t care. I am simply what you see here in front of you. A slightly burned-out cowboy who wants to wrap this thing up and go home to his dog and ranch where he belongs. Any help you can give me will be deeply appreciated.”
Emma looked into his eyes, started to shake her head, then seemed to reconsider. She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “I have a napping toddler inside, and I need to go pick Nathan up from football practice in about twenty minutes,” she said, as she folded her arms across her chest. “The truth is I promised Cassie I would never, ever tell you where she is but I’ve been worried about her, so I’m breaking my promise.”
The first flush of joy at finally having a solid lead evaporated and he stepped closer. “What do you mean you’ve been worried about her?”
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and stared at him. “You still care about her, don’t you?”
“You want the truth? After six months of being yanked around, I’m not sure how I feel except she’s legally my wife and I don’t want to see any harm come to her.”
“Fair enough,” Emma said. “Okay, this is what I know. Cassie was really strung out when she got here. Someone had stolen her old clunker with her purse and suitcase in the truck, which meant she lost all her clothes and ID and she didn’t want to go to the police. I guess she remembered Lisa telling her I lived here now, so she managed to scrape enough together to call Lisa, and Lisa called me, and I went into town and got her and brought her back to the house.”
“And this was when?”
“About four or five months ago. School had just let out for the summer. Cassie stayed with us a few days but she was restless. She wanted a job, she wanted a life.”
“She had a life back in Woodwind, with me,” Cody said, and wished he hadn’t. He shook his head. “Don’t mind me, I’m just kind of perplexed about all this.”
“Well, what I’m about to say isn’t going to help that much. See, my mother has a distant relative who has a great-aunt, and that great-aunt has a friend who lives in a small town outside of Idaho Falls,” Emma continued. “The old woman was looking for a live-in aide because she doesn’t walk much anymore. She’s quite elderly, but I gather she has more money than she could spend in fifteen lifetimes and intends to live out her days in her mansion. Other relatives live there, too, but the old lady wanted some independence from them. Mom’s friend made a few calls and Cassie got the job. I drove her there myself.”
“That was nice of you,” Cody said woodenly. He took a look around him. This was as close to Cassie as he’d been in months, but it all had a terrible sense of unreality to it. “So, why do you say you’re worried now?”
“Because we worked out that she would call here once a week. Lisa asked her to do that so they didn’t lose touch, especially now, and she thought it would be better to go through me because Lisa is out of the country on work-related trips so often, and Lord knows with two kids, I’m never gone, never. So Cassie just calls and says, ‘I’m fine,’ or something like that. We agreed I wouldn’t call her.”
“And?”
“And Cassie didn’t call this week. So that’s why I’m telling you now where she is. Lisa is in South America for weeks and weeks, so she’s no help.” She bit her lip before adding, “You know, Cassie never said a mean word about you, and she didn’t act like she’d been abused or anything. I’m going to go inside and get you the address. If she’s really mad when you show up, tell her I wouldn’t have broken my word except I’m worried about her. You know, considering everything.”
Without waiting for his response, she slipped back inside the house. Five minutes later she returned, this time with a yawning toddler in her arms and a purse slung over her shoulder. The door clicked shut with a security beep as she handed him what appeared to be her husband’s business card. Greg Kruger, M.D.; a hastily written name and address on the other side of the card was of more interest to Cody:
Vera Priestly
210 Riverside Drive
Cherrydell, Idaho
Chapter Two
Cody arrived in Cherrydell too late to do anything more than drive through a relatively small community built on a river. The downtown area was old but gave the impression it might have become something of a tourist destination with restaurants, boutiques and salons dotting the streets. He made his way to the house where Cassie had apparently spent the past few weeks.
Towering and dark, surrounded by huge trees, the gingerbread Victorian nestled on what appeared to be a half acre of fenced property right on the edge of a river. The rest of the neighborhood was equally scenic, though none of the surrounding houses had such large lots or were half as big.
He drove past twice, wondering if Cassie was in there, wishing it wasn’t too late to ring the bell. For a second or two he thought about rousing the household anyway, demanding to see his wife, but he knew he wouldn’t do it. Showing up on Cassie’s doorstep was going to catch her off guard and no doubt create a scene. Stuff like that was best left for the light of day.
He found himself a motel room a few blocks away and tried reading, but it was no good; the words of the novel barely imprinted themselves on his brain. He finally turned off the light, but then he found himself checking the glowing numbers on the bedside clock every few minutes.
Why hadn’t Cassie checked in with Emma Kruger? The obvious answer was Cassie’s cousin Lisa got wind a detective was asking questions about her. Lisa could have alerted Cassie directly before leaving for South America. If that happened, Cassie would already be gone and he’d be too late.
He awoke at eleven the next morning and bolted out of bed like a horse with a burr under its saddle, appalled he’d overslept on this of all mornings. He took a shower and put on clean clothes while drinking a cup of the coffee he made in his own room. The motel coffee made the stuff he brewed in a pan over a campfire taste like gourmet.
He paused as he picked up the small black box that he’d been carrying in his pocket. Popping open the lid, he studied the contents for a moment, then snapped the lid shut. Leaving it on the dresser, he went back for it at the last moment and slipped it in with his loose change. It wasn’t a bribe, it was a promise. All he had to do was find Cassie.
Back in the truck, he drove to the house again.
What a difference a few hours made.
The driveway and street on both sides were now jammed with cars. A few people could be seen standing out on the large porch—they appeared to be smokers relegated to the chill of October to feed their habit.
Cody found a parking spot a few blocks away and walked back to the house. He looked the place over as he threaded his way between the parked cars in the driveway. It had to cost a fortune to keep a mansion like this one operating, but there were signs maintenance had slipped. The house needed painting, for instance. Plants had overgrown the landscaper’s original vision and weeds grew in the sidewalk cracks.
There were two smokers on the front porch and they both nodded at him. As he climbed the short flight of stairs, the front door opened and a woman and man came out. The man held the door open for Cody so Cody decided to go with the flow.
The inside of the house gave the same impression as the outside: elegance and expense slightly worn around the edges. The foyer was crowded with people dressed in dark colors, all holding something to eat or drink, all ignoring him after a cursory glance. By the preponderance of dark clothes and hushed conversations, Cody thought it pretty likely somebody had died.
The motel coffee burned his gut like cheap whiskey. Please don’t let it be Cassie. Anything but that. He chose a man standing alone to sidle up to. “Excuse me. Do you know—”
“Emerson and Victoria are in the parlor,” the man said, moving off to talk to a woman who had motioned to him. Cody had no idea who Emerson and Victoria might be, but guessing they were connected with this house in some way, he moved in the indicated direction, entering another equally crowded room.
Through the sea of bodies, he spotted an athletic-looking middle-aged woman seated on a brocaded sofa, her graying hair falling softly over her forehead. She was surrounded by other women, one of whom patted her hand. A man of about the same vintage stood off by a window, alone.
There was something about the two that linked them in Cody’s mind, a certain air of aloofness mixed with privilege. They were extremely well-dressed in tailored dark suits, their grooming beyond reproach. Both looked like they spent a lot of time on a tennis court or golf course.
A uniformed woman wearing an apron and carrying a tray, asked if he would like a canapé and started naming the offerings in a broad Cockney accent.
“No thanks,” he interrupted, adding quickly, “Do you know the woman who owns this house? Her name is Vera Priestly.”
“Know her? Oh, you mean, did I know her,” she said. “I worked for her for five years, now, didn’t I? It’s shocking what happened to her.”
“What exactly happened?” he asked.
She cocked her head to one side as her voice fell to an ominous hush. “You don’t know? Oh, now, mister, it’s terrible. Mrs. Priestly weren’t all fur coats and no knickers, if you take my meaning. She was a lady through and through. You ask me it was that new girl who took over for me. Run me out of a posh job, she did, and her being all—”
“Bridget? I think some of our other guests may need attention,” the man Cody had noticed by the window said. He’d approached so quietly he caught both the maid and Cody off guard. The maid immediately dipped her head and scurried off. The man looked down his patrician nose at Cody, which wasn’t easy as Cody was easily five or six inches taller. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you,” he said. “I’m Emerson Banner. Exactly how did you know my mother-in-law?”
Up close, Banner’s face was crisscrossed with fine lines, his eyes were a pale, icy blue and his chin was slightly receded. He was the kind of man that raised Cody’s hackles.
“I didn’t know her,” Cody said, taking off his hat. He’d completely forgotten he had it on. “I just heard she passed away. I know this is a terrible time to bother you, but I’ve traveled a distance. I’m looking for my wife. Her name is Cassie—Cassandra, sometimes. I was told she was employed here to help care for an elderly lady named Vera Priestly. If Mrs. Priestly died recently then it figures Cassie will be out of work.” He’d been digging in his wallet as he spoke and offered a photograph of Cassie taken the year before.
Emerson Banner glanced at it, did a double take, then glared at Cody. The old saying If looks could kill… flashed through Cody’s mind.
“I think you’d better leave,” Banner said, his voice as cold as Rocky Mountain snow. He tossed a surreptitious glance at the woman on the couch. Her gaze met his and she furrowed her brow.
“I’ll be happy to go,” Cody said. “Lord knows I’m needed in Wyoming a lot more than I’m needed here. Just tell me where Cassie is.”
Banner’s voice took on a vicious undertone. “Have you no decency?” he hissed. “This is Vera’s wake, of all things, and you have the audacity to barge in here.” He grabbed Cody’s elbow and maneuvered him through the crowd.
A younger guy with a pleasant smile intercepted them. “Dad? Is there a problem?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, Robert. Do me a favor and find your sister. Have her go sit with your mother, okay?” The next thing Cody knew, he was ushered out the front door.
While he couldn’t begin to fathom what had brought on this reaction, he hadn’t put up a fuss because people inside were grieving. But the front porch was empty now and he’d had about enough. He tore his arm away from Banner’s grip and stared down at the older man.
“Where in the hell is my wife, and don’t bother saying you don’t know her because it’s obvious you do. What’s going on?”
Banner straightened his shoulders. “The woman you claim is your wife presented herself to us as Laura Green. I was very much against hiring her as Vera’s caregiver. The girl was not bonded nor did she have experience or references, but Vera could dig in her heels when she wanted and she was determined to help this girl out. She’d heard about her from a friend of a friend—your typical hard-luck story. Totally inappropriate.
“It turns out my suspicions of her were right on the money. We caught Laura or Cassie or whoever she is trying to run off with my mother-in-law’s jewelry yesterday. And today we find there are several additional pieces missing. Who knows how much is gone? The police—”
“Where is Cassie?” Cody interrupted.
“She took off in a cab that dropped her at a bus station. No one saw her after that, but trust me, the police are looking.”
Cody couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“And not just for theft,” Banner added with a tight little satisfied smile.
“What exactly does that mean?”
“Vera altered her will right before she was killed,” Banner said. “She bequeathed one-fourth of her assets, which amounts to over a million dollars, to your wife. She even included a phrase that covered the fact your wife was using an assumed name. If any of the others contest it, they lose their share. How do you imagine that came about?”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“No it doesn’t. And that was just hours before someone broke into Vera’s room in the middle of the night and smothered her during a robbery attempt. For all I know, you were part of it, too.”
“Listen, mister,” Cody said, stepping close and lowering his voice. “There’s such a thing as slander, you know. Unless you have proof, you’d better watch your mouth. You said my wife was caught stealing jewelry? If she knew she was inheriting money, why would she bother? You don’t make any sense. I can’t believe we’re even talking about the same woman.”
“Though there are obvious differences now, as I’m sure you’re aware, the woman in the photo you carry and the woman calling herself Laura Green are either identical twins or the same person. I am not mistaken. Now, please leave before I call the police. On second thought, that’s not a bad idea. What did you say your last name is?”
“I didn’t,” Cody said. He pulled on his hat and turned. Behind him, he heard the door open and close. Banner was gone.
The guy was calling the cops? This Laura Green had to be some other woman, someone else who stole Cassie’s identity in a more subtle way than using her credit cards and flashing her driver’s license. And that meant Cassie’s fate was still unknown.
He took a deep breath, unsure what to do now. Go home? Wait for the cops to arrive and see if they knew something? Cassie’s fingerprints would be in the house if she’d been here…
Across the street and down at the corner, he caught sight of a woman in the process of turning away from him. Because of all the cars parked on the street, all he could see of her was from the shoulders up, but there was something about what he saw that spoke directly to him. Maybe it was the glisten of her gold hair in the weak autumn light. Maybe it was a glimpse of her profile his conscious mind had barely registered. Something.
He hurried down the stairs and the driveway, then had to wait for a line of cars to pass by on the street. By the time he got to the point on the opposite sidewalk where he’d seen the woman, she was gone.
He began walking in the direction he thought she’d taken. What had she been wearing? What color? He closed his eyes as he walked, trying to picture—
Blue. She’d been wearing something blue, up by her face, at least. A scarf, a collar, a jacket…
He was traversing a residential neighborhood filled with stately homes set back from the sidewalk. The leaves were turning, asters and dahlias were blooming. There were cars here and there, but few people.
After a very long block, the road hit an intersection and he was given a choice of three directions. He peered down each street. Two old people walked a poodle down one, the other was empty, and on the third a figure walked away from him at a pretty good pace.
He went in that direction. It was a woman, he could tell that much, and there might be something blue around her neck. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get that far ahead of him.
What was he doing? Why would Cassie have come back to that house after the accusations that must have been thrown right in her face? Banner said she went to the bus station. The chances the woman up ahead was actually Cassie were astronomical and yet he kept walking, forcing himself not to rush her, knowing such an action would spook any woman no matter who she was. And the only thing he knew for sure was he had to know the identity of this woman.
She turned left at the next corner. He waited until he was sure she couldn’t turn and see him, then ran to make it to the corner before she disappeared.
Too late. She was gone.
He walked fast now, looking closely at each house in turn. Still, he almost missed the door closing at the top of a flight of stairs that led to what appeared to be an apartment built over a detached garage. As he stood there, the drapes closed over a window.
The house that occupied the same property had an Apartment for Rent sign in its window. He walked up the path and knocked. The door was opened almost at once by an older man carrying a stack of books and a big set of keys.
“I’m here about the rental,” Cody said.
The man handed him the keys as he stepped outside. “My hands are full, so help me out. Take the blue one off the loop and give yourself a tour, okay? It’s the back unit I’m renting. You get a real nice view of the alley. I rented the front one to a little gal yesterday. You’re welcome to look at the place, only don’t bother my new tenant. When you’re done, slip the key in the mail slot here by my door. If you’re interested, my number is on the sign, call me this afternoon. No, wait, today it’s my turn to work at the library until closing time. Better call me tomorrow or drop by the library if you want. Ask for Stew. I’m running late.”
This was all said as Cody worked the blue key free. “Thanks,” he said, handing back the other keys.
“No problem.” The man hit the electronic button on his ring and the garage door rolled up. The garage itself looked huge, split into two sections. One side was laid out as a woodworking shop with a lot of nice equipment, a long workbench along the outside wall, and a heater for the cold winter months. The other side sheltered a vehicle. The man threw the books into the backseat of a vintage 1957 Chevy and took off, the garage door rolling closed after him.
Cody had no intention of touring the back apartment. He found the mail slot and slipped the key through the opening where it clinked as it landed inside the house.
He’d intended to show the homeowner Cassie’s photo, but it had all happened too fast; the fact that a lone woman had rented the place the day before fit. There was only one way to make sure, of course, so taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for another heaping dose of disappointment and walked toward the garage.
The stairs were pretty steep and ran against the side of the garage up to a landing. At the top of the stairs, you could either stop at the door of the front unit, or keep moving away from the street toward the unit in the back.
There was no peephole in the door, which meant whoever lived here had no way of knowing who was knocking. He rapped a few times and all but stopped breathing.
And as he waited he thought of the accusations Emerson Banner had leveled at Cassie. Lying, manipulating, stealing, murder. It was absolutely impossible to imagine Cassie doing any of that.
So, if the woman he hoped was his wife was actually someone else, was he about to come face to face with a murderer? And if it was Cassie? Had she changed so much she was capable of these terrible things?
His heart jammed in his throat as he heard footsteps sound inside. “Who is it?” a woman’s voice called. Impossible to tell whose voice, but the underlying tension rang out clear.
He mumbled, “Landlord,” and in that moment a jolt of doubt hit him so hard it was all he could do not to reach out and grab something for support.
What was he doing here? Why had he pursued her? She’d obviously left him behind, and yet he’d moved a piece of heaven and a whole lot of earth to find her while all the while she’d known exactly where he was. She could have come home if that was what she’d wanted.
Or could she have? Had he slammed the door that firmly in her face?
The door opened, catching on a chain after two inches, and he didn’t know who he hoped would peer out and see him. A stranger or his wife or maybe a murderer. Or maybe a woman who had managed to become all three?
The chain slid away and the door opened wider.
For one interminable moment, he stared into Cassie’s startled sky-blue eyes and couldn’t have felt more winded if a runaway horse had tossed him to the ground and landed on top of him. All these months he’d anticipated this moment.
But in the end, nothing had prepared him for the almost physical punch in his heart that came with the first glimpse of her face. The creamy skin, the gently arched brows, the too-wide mouth and slightly long nose, attributes that saved her from cuteness and transported her to true beauty.
And then his gaze dipped lower and everything changed forever.
The simple gold band he’d given her three years before still circled her ring finger.
What was new was the bulging belly beneath where her hand rested. She was pregnant.
And not just a little bit.
Chapter Three
“Cody,” Cassie said softly.
Her heart had been beating fast when she heard the knock: for the past twenty-four hours, she’d been expecting the police.
Instead, Cody.
There wasn’t a thing about him she didn’t know by heart. Not the way one eyebrow tended to lift when he spoke, not the exact shape of his lips or the dark brown of his eyes.
And not the shock that flashed in those eyes as he took in her changed appearance and began processing what it meant.
This was the moment she had tried so hard to avoid, the moment she’d had nightmares about. The moment when he saw her condition and undoubtedly leapt to one conclusion.
She cleared her throat. “How did you find me?”
“I saw you across the street from the Priestly house,” he said after a moment. “I…I followed you.”
She looked behind him toward the street. “Did anyone else see me?”
“I don’t think so. You didn’t call Emma Kruger when you said you would. She got worried.” His gaze once again dipped to Cassie’s protruding belly and the silence between them stretched tight. “Cassie? Can I come in?”
Cassie. Not Laura, not anymore. “Yes, of course,” she said. As she stepped aside, she once again scanned the empty street before hastily closing the door and turning back into the room. And then her gaze met Cody’s again.
She’d wondered, of course. How would she feel when she saw him again? Would the magic between them be gone, a victim of their fight? She folded her fingers into her palm as she steeled herself for what came next.
But why, why hadn’t she dressed nicer that morning? Why hadn’t she washed her hair or stuck on some lipstick? For something to do, she took the blue scarf from around her neck and looped it through the strap on her oversized hobo bag, her fingers trembling.
He finally cleared his throat. “When is the baby due?”
“A little over a month.”
His voice grew hesitant. “Is it…mine?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know about it when you left?”
“You mean did I know I was pregnant when I told you it was time we start our family? No, I didn’t know.”
He swore softly, took off his hat and looked around the apartment. She knew what he saw. The place was a furnished dump, there were no two ways about it, but she’d arrived the day before in a panic and all she’d wanted was a refuge, no questions asked, four walls and a locked door.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, turning his steady gaze on her again.
How many times over the past few months had she scanned the faces of strangers, looking for him, wondering if he’d followed her, half-hoping he hadn’t, half-hoping he had? No one else looked like Cody Westin, though, not even his brothers, Adam and Pierce. There were family resemblances, to be sure, but Cody was the one a woman’s eyes strayed to. The perfectly balanced strong body, wide shoulders and clear-cut features all added up to a great-looking package, but it was something else, too, some sense of reserve and privacy about him that made a lot of women, women like her, melt inside.
Face it; he was so masculine it confused her. In fact at times during their marriage they had seemed like foreigners thrown together on the stagecoach of life, seeing each other, touching, but not speaking the same language.
“Do you know the police are looking for you?” Cody asked.
Her heartbeat doubled as her hands clenched at her sides. “I wasn’t sure. I guess it doesn’t surprise me. How do you know?”
“I spoke with Emerson Banner.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. “Did you tell him your name? Did you tell him mine?”
“Just our first names. He claims you had something to do with his mother-in-law’s death.”
Talking about Emerson Banner made the hairs rise on Cassie’s arms. “He’s a greedy, nasty man,” she said with a shudder. Those cold eyes of his had drilled into hers too many times for comfort. “His wife isn’t any better. They know I wouldn’t harm Mrs. Priestly. She was so kind to me. Did he tell you how worried she was the last few days of her life? Maybe I should have done things differently, I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure it out.”
The tears that welled in her eyes were unwelcome reminders of the stress that had been building since that night when Mrs. Priestly had sent Cassie to check out the garden. It had culminated two days later when she went to awaken the elderly woman and found her window open, a pillow over her face and signs of a weak struggle before she lost her life. The monitor had been disabled. Cassie had slept ten feet away in the adjoining room while Mrs. Priestly died.
“Banner also told me they caught you trying to steal jewelry,” he added.
She raised her gaze to his. “You believe him?”
“Hell, no, I don’t believe him. Of course I don’t.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“Nothing good.”
She had the distinct impression he was holding something back. “Just say it,” she coaxed. “I can take it.”
“Vera Priestly changed her will the day she died. She added you to her list of beneficiaries. You’re going to be a wealthy woman.”
Cassie inhaled dry air. “Why would she do that? Who told you this?”
“Her son-in-law, and who knows why she’d do it, but it sure provides a hell of a good motive for murder, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Yes, if she cared about money, which she didn’t. Still, to all the people in Cherrydell, especially the Banners, she must appear a penniless pregnant woman living in the shadows and desperate for every penny.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on,” Cody demanded. “Explain why a woman who didn’t know you that well left you a fourth of her estate.”
His tone of voice cut through her anxiety. “Wait just a second,” she said. “You don’t understand what’s been happening here, and I’m not going to stand by while you speak to me like I’m a stubborn idiot.”
Cody pulled his hat back on in a way always guaranteed to start a slow throb in her groin. “Pack up your stuff. It’s only a couple of hours back to Wyoming. We’ll call Sheriff Inkwell when we get home.” He dropped his hands and turned to the door. “I’ll go get the truck—”
“Cody, stop,” she said.
He turned back to her.
“Just stop. You can’t just throw me in the back of your truck. I’m not a stray heifer. We’re going to have to have an actual conversation about this, unless you want to continue to ignore it.”
“I’m not ignoring it,” he said, “I’m trying to prioritize. We have to get you away from here. If I’m going to have a child, I’d rather it wasn’t born in prison.”
“If? Listen, Cody Westin, there is no if.”
“I’m not the one who ran away.”
“Have you forgotten why I left?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. But things are obviously different now.”
“Because having a baby is no longer an academic question? It’s a done deal so you’re going to step up to the plate, right?”
He narrowed his eyes.
She sighed deeply. They were right back where they started, except now another human being was involved. “We reached an impasse, Cody, you know that as well as I do. I wanted a family. You wanted to wait. Indefinitely. You asked me if I wanted a divorce and I said I’d think about it.”
“And you ran away instead.”
“No, I left to think about it. I packed a bag and drove away. What choice did I have? It was your ranch, your family—”
“Yours, too, Cassie.”
She took another deep breath. “I know. But that wasn’t enough for me, and you knew it when we got married.”
“But then you didn’t come back. You didn’t tell me where you were. You just disappeared.”
“That wasn’t the original plan,” she said, pacing because she couldn’t bear to stand still. “I just needed a few days to think and make some kind of decision. But then I discovered I was pregnant, and after our argument I didn’t know how to go home.”
“You could have driven down our road. That would have been a start.”
“And presented you with the one thing you made it clear you didn’t want?”
“I can’t believe this. I am not your father. I am not the kind of man who turns his back when things don’t go his way. You know that.” He narrowed his eyes again. “You didn’t think I could change, did you?”
She stared at him a second, then she nodded. “That’s not exactly true. I just knew if I came back pregnant you’d have to change, so I couldn’t trust that the change would be real.”
He rubbed his jaw as he stared at her, another gesture imprinted on her heart. “I seem to be in a no-win situation. All I really know for sure is you should have talked to me. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”
“I’m sorry about that, I truly am. I took the chicken way out.”
“When my detective reported someone else was using your car and identification, what was I supposed—”
He continued on but she couldn’t hear him over the roar in her ears. He’d hired a detective to find her? Of course—how else would he have found out about Emma Kruger? The news that he hadn’t sat on his pride ’til hell froze over as his father would have done came as a shock, and on top of all the other shocks of the week she felt her knees buckle.
And then his hands were under her elbows, supporting her, and his eyes showed concern. “Maybe you should sit down—”
“Maybe you should leave,” she said, stepping away from him, holding on to the back of a chair, unwilling to sit.
The silence stretched on until he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Come home with me now, Cassie. Let me help you through the next couple of months.”
“I know you want to help, but don’t you understand? I don’t want to raise a family with someone who resents me. I don’t want this baby to be my mistake and your burden. He or she deserves so much more.”
She turned away from him to give her eyes a rest. Looking at him was agony. To love him, to want him, and yet to know he didn’t really want the very center of her heart, the essence of her life…
Had she always wanted things Cody couldn’t give? Had she always been blinded by her own feelings?
“I don’t know what else to say,” he murmured.
“You’ve already said everything,” she said, turning back to face him. “It’s funny, I guess. I dreamed of the moment you would find me so many times. That you would hold me in your arms and beg me to come back, thrilled I was carrying your child. But you aren’t asking me to come back to you; you’re telling me I’m an obligation. You want me to come back so you’ll feel better, not because it’s what’s best for us.”
His gaze turned stormy. “I thought a lot about this moment, too, Cassie, and in my dreams you weren’t wanted for murder while holding our unborn child hostage to my inability to react exactly how you rehearsed it.”
She started to protest and stopped. Is that what she was doing? Her head began to pound.
“Face it. You’ve gotten yourself into a real mess. You can’t stay here.”
He was right. That was the crux of the problem. Not the baby, not their marriage or their future, but the murder of an old woman and all the events that came afterward.
“Why would Banner say you took jewelry if you didn’t?” Cody added. “He must have known you’d contradict him.”
“He asked to search my suitcase before I left. I had nothing to hide, so I let him.”
“Then the jewelry was actually in your possession.”
“Exactly. There were several pieces stitched into the lining. When he found it, I panicked. The cab was right there and I just couldn’t think further ahead than getting away. I’d seen this apartment for rent during my walks and I knew it would be safe here, so I had the cab drop me at the bus station and then took a city bus back. I’d never felt like a fugitive before.”
“So someone planted the jewelry.”
“Of course. Maybe if I hadn’t bolted…oh, I don’t know. Maybe if I go back to the mansion now and talk to Robert, Mrs. Priestly’s grandson, or Donna, his sister, make them understand, they could get their father to back down. I don’t want Mrs. Priestly’s money, I’ll tell them that. I was going to talk to them this morning when I walked over there, but there were so many people—I’d forgotten about the wake.”
Cody shook his head. “Emerson Banner is aching to sic the police on you. You can’t go back there.”
She pressed her temples with her fingers. “Could you just stop telling me what I can and can’t do?”
He swore under his breath and regarded her from beneath the brim of his hat. “One last time. Come home.”
She shook her head. “Not like this.”
He stared hard at her a moment, then closed his eyes. In that moment he was so vulnerable her heart ached for him. When his eyes flickered open again, she saw he’d summoned the Westin resolve she knew so well.
“I came here ready to give you a divorce if that’s what you wanted,” he said, his gaze straying down to her belly. “It’s pretty obvious, even to me, that you don’t want to be part of my life anymore.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” she said. “I just need to finish this alone. Maybe you could return to Wyoming and let me think and maybe you could figure out how you feel about everything, too.”
“I know how I feel. What if they arrest you?”
“You’ll be my one phone call.”
Again he stared at her. She wished he would hug her and yet hoped he wouldn’t. Did he know he was one touch away from winning?
“We’ll do it your way,” he said. “Do you need money?”
“No. Mrs. Priestly paid me in cash and I hardly ever spent a dime. I’m fine for now.”
“But if the baby comes, a hospital—”
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about…us.”
He stepped close and touched her cheek. When his lips brushed her forehead, she almost crumbled.
But she didn’t.
“Don’t disappear again.”
“If I decide to slink away in the night it will be from this place and these people, not from you, I promise.” Her breath caught as his fingers drifted away from her face.
“Goodbye, Cassie.”
And then he was gone.
She moved to the window and parted the drapes a little, watching him walk down the sidewalk. It didn’t take too much imagination to picture herself beside him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders…
Go after him.
No. She couldn’t.
But she wanted to.
And yet she felt pretty certain he felt relief that she didn’t.
As she turned from the window, she spied the blue scarf. She’d bought it for herself, surprised real silk had found its way into a thrift store. Now it symbolized all the months of loneliness and indecision she’d suffered, and blue seemed an appropriate color.
She needed a walk. Dare she go outside again?
Her hand was on the knob, she was ready to open the door, but in the end she could not face all that open space. Instead she twisted the old lock and, feeling about as big and ungainly as a house, sagged on the sofa.
Cody was gone. Had he said one positive thing about their baby? Had he mentioned love? She tried to remember, but the last half hour replayed like a bunch of jumbled words and impressions, and all she could really recall clearly was the fear of Emerson Banner and the touch of Cody’s lips on her skin.
Exhausted, she fell asleep before she could think it through.
WALKING AWAY from that apartment was the worst moment of Cody’s life.
He’d found her.
And lost her. Again.
And now, of course, there was a baby. His baby. He was going to be a father whether he was ready or not. Had she planned the pregnancy to present it as a done deal and then started a conversation he’d screwed up because he hadn’t known the script?
No, she wouldn’t trick him. Wasn’t her style.
Cars were leaving the Priestly house, and there were a lot of people milling about outside. He saw Emerson Banner and his wife standing on the porch, probably saying goodbyes. There was a lot he wanted to ask them, but the police car parked in front of the house kept him moving. He took a circuitous route back to his truck, got behind the wheel and made a U-turn to avoid passing the big Victorian house.
He checked out of the motel, grabbed a bite to eat and hit the road. As he racked up the miles he grew more and more uneasy. Not for a second did he think Cassie had a thing to do with Mrs. Priestly’s murder, but why did she say she could have done things differently? The murder sounded like a foiled robbery attempt, nothing else, so why did Cassie say the old lady had been worried for days? He’d been so caught up in trying to get Cassie back into his life that he’d neglected to ask some pretty basic questions.
His thoughts immediately circled back to their baby. How did he feel about becoming a father? Unprepared, that’s how. Three hours ago, he hadn’t even had a wife or at least one he was sure was alive…
The afternoon wore on, and he tried to comfort himself with the knowledge he’d be home soon. Cattle market was over. Despite a tumultuous year, they’d done well; Adam’s conversion to an organic herd was paying off. They’d been able to stow away an excellent store of hay and grain for the coming winter. Now there were several miles of fencing along the main drive that needed to be restrung before winter, but his brother Pierce was a whiz at that and for the first time in many, many years, he was once again ranching on the Open Sky. And then there were the upcoming weddings…
What kind of man leaves a woman he cares for in the situation Cassie was in? So what if she didn’t want his help? She’d claimed he couldn’t change. Was she right?
Christmas this year would include a baby—his baby. How could he be driving away?
He suddenly realized he’d slowed to about ten miles an hour on the twisting mountain road and pulled off to the side before he caused an accident. Cassie’s voice filled his head like one of those melodies that get lodged in your brain and you can’t get rid of.
He loved her. He had since the moment they met at a rodeo, of all places. He’d been competing in a bull-riding event and she’d been there with some guy she knew from school.
Cody had been attracted to her clear-eyed beauty at first, then to the strong streak of competence and spirit that ran through her personality like a vein of gold through a gold mine. He had no idea what she saw in him. He was a loner by nature and she was always in the middle of everything. He’d grown up in a male household with a missing mother; she’d grown up with a bitter single mother and a father who ran out when she was a baby.
So maybe that was what they had in common—missing parents. But while he’d coped by closing himself off, she’d opened like a flower to accept everyone and everything into her heart. He’d asked her to marry him on their second date and she’d laughed at him, but he couldn’t help himself. After that, though, she’d asked him several times how he felt about children and he’d always said someday, meaning “someday a long time from now,” when he was ready, when he figured it out.
And maybe in the back of his mind he’d assumed she’d wait forever. Wasn’t what they had between them enough? Why add complications?
Now he wondered, was she right? Had he been putting her off because he was afraid—
Afraid? Since when was he afraid of anything?
He turned around. An hour later, figuring his out-of-state license plate made the truck stand out like a white star on a black stallion’s forehead, he pulled into the alley behind Cassie’s apartment. He’d been away for four hours—it was entirely possible she would be gone…
He’d just grabbed the stair handrail when something about the garage window to his right caught his attention. It was one of those multipaned affairs, and where before it had been intact, it now had a red rag stuffed through one of the openings. He detoured to take a closer look. Sure enough, the pane closest to the interior lock was broken.
He pulled on the cloth, and as he did so, the unmistakable stench of the fuel additive the gas company adds to warn a user of a leak assailed his nostrils. This was immediately followed by the bam-bam images of glass shards on the workbench below the window and then the sight of the heater against the wall, its fuel pipe unscrewed from the stove, a crescent wrench on the floor beneath it.
He took the stairs two at a time and grabbed the knob, prepared to fling his body into the wood panel if it was locked. It was. He easily kicked in the old, flimsy panel, then followed the sound of running water and the aroma of soap into the kitchen, where he found Cassie leaning awkwardly over the sink, using the detachable faucet spray to rinse out her long hair.
He grabbed her shoulders from behind and she screamed as she turned. She was still holding the spray and it hit him in the eyes.
“Cody! What are you doing?” she screeched, as he pulled on her hands.
“Come with me. Now!”
“Wait just a minute. You can’t—”
“There’s a gas leak,” he yelled, almost carrying her to the door. She grabbed her handbag in passing and went with him willingly then, and somehow the two of them flew down the stairs in record time.
They had just hit the ground running when Cody saw the flick of a light through the garage window and registered a faint, audible click. A millisecond later, the whole building exploded.
The blast propelled them forward. He did his best to be the one who hit the ground first to cushion Cassie’s fall. A second later, burning debris rained down around them, and he sheltered her as best he could. They’d landed behind a hedge, which also helped.
They sat up when it seemed the worst was over. The garage and the two apartments above it had been reduced to a burning pile of rubble. Neighbors began to come out of their houses.
Cody helped her to her feet and pulled her back when she started to leave the shelter of the hedge. Who knew if the bomber lay in wait? They stood there a moment, gasping at the destruction. Then he turned her to face him, pushing a tangle of wet hair away from her eyes. “Someone rigged that heater, Cassie. My God, someone tried to kill you.”
“I hear sirens,” she said. “We have to get out of here.”
“But the police—”
“No, Cody, I don’t want to talk to the police. All the questions I can’t answer, the jewelry and everything— Please, I can’t face that right now. I just want to get out of Cherrydell.”
He stared down at her, at war with himself. They should stay long enough to report what happened and face things head-on. But that wasn’t what she wanted…?.
“Let’s put our personal problems on hold for a while and make sure you survive to give birth,” he said. “Come back to the Open Sky with me. We’ll talk to Sheriff Inkwell. At least he knows you.”
Eyes wide, lips trembling, she nodded.
Chapter Four
Cassie couldn’t stop turning to gaze behind them at the traffic, looking for—well, a killer. “What kind of person tries to blow up a pregnant woman?” she asked, very aware of the quiver in her voice.
“The kind who smothers an old woman to death in her sleep,” Cody said, sparing her a quick glance.
Every mile that passed beneath the truck’s tires vibrated inside Cassie’s body. Even the baby seemed aware that things were changing fast; only the periodic rolls and gentle kicks reassured Cassie that the blast hadn’t harmed him or her.
Cody had driven them down the alley with his lights off, exiting by going through a driveway halfway down the block that connected the alley to the street. He’d driven slowly and methodically, while constantly checking the rearview mirror until he announced he hadn’t seen any sign someone was following them.
But Cassie couldn’t let the hunted feeling go. Someone at the Priestly house was targeting her and, by default, her baby. Would they be able to outrun that someone?
“Who do you think did this, Cassie?” Cody asked, as they hit a major road and he picked up speed.
She shot him a look, then turned in her seat to stare ahead. Evening had given way to night, and there was nothing to be gained by staring at a bunch of headlights. “How should I know?”
“Do you have any ideas? Any gut feelings?”
“Well, it has to be someone in that house or someone connected to them, right? My money is on Emerson Banner or maybe even Victoria. They both made no bones about how much they resented Mrs. Priestly hiring me. Still, trying to blow me up? Seems a little over the top, doesn’t it?”
“What about Banner’s son?”
“Robert? Did you meet him?”
“Kind of.”
She shrugged. “He was always nice to me, you know, pleasant. More importantly, he was great with his grandmother, and she just adored him. As for his sister, Donna, she’s nice, too. A little distracted right now. Her husband disappeared a day or so after Mrs. Priestly’s murder…”
“Wait. Isn’t that suspicious timing?” Cody interrupted.
“Yes. The police were questioning Donna about him. There’s no doubt Donna will inherit from her grandmother, so it seems possible Kevin might have been involved in Mrs. Priestly’s death. But why go after me? I’ve never even seen the man.”
“Face it,” he said. “It could be any of them.”
Cassie rubbed her arms to try to shake off the chill. Apparently misinterpreting the reason she was shaking, Cody handed her a sheepskin jacket he’d stashed behind the seat, and she shrugged it over her shoulders. It smelled like him, of the earth and aftershave, and it gripped her heart with its forgotten familiarity. “Do you think the same person who planted the jewelry on me tried to kill me?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m still trying to figure out why anyone would do that.”
“All I could figure was someone stuck it in there in the hopes I wouldn’t notice. Then they planned to follow me and swipe my suitcase and recover the jewelry. That way I’d be blamed and the thief would make off with a bundle. It was really nice stuff. I told Mrs. Priestly she should put most of it in a safe deposit box, but she liked to have her things nearby.”
He spared her a long look. “That’s not a bad guess. Or maybe someone wanted to discredit you so you couldn’t inherit.”
“It’s all about money, either way.”
“It usually is. But there’s another possibility. Maybe you know something about Mrs. Priestly’s murderer, maybe something you don’t even realize you know.”
She hadn’t thought of that. What if she did? Chills that could rival the Indianapolis 500 raced up her spine. She closed her eyes. She needed to calm down, take deeper breaths, channel peaceful thoughts to her baby.
But she was scared and, truthfully, not just for her well-being. Every mile took her closer to the Open Sky Ranch and the life she’d abandoned.
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead, trying to think, but the headlights drilled through the darkness ahead, creating a tunnel effect. There was the feeling if they kept going long enough, she would wind up where she’d been born and raised, in Cheyenne, clear across the state, a child again…
Back to the small house on Elder Street. Back to her astringent mother and the one treasured photograph she had of the man who had fathered her but had run off right after her birth.
“No,” she said, and hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Cody cleared his throat.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. Her father was gone, her mother was dead, the house had probably been razed in favor of a shopping mall.
They entered Woodwind a few minutes later. Less than an hour to the ranch. She would arrive home pregnant and covered with soot, her hair a tangled mess, her clothes torn and dirty.
And everyone on the ranch would be there with a million questions…
“Cody, pull over. I want to get a room here in town for the night. I can’t go back like this. I can’t face your family yet.”
He’d pulled the truck over when she asked. She hadn’t missed his quick glance into the rearview mirror, and she assumed it was to see if anyone behind them had also pulled over. She’d checked the side mirror herself.
“There’s a convention in town,” Cody said, pointing at the Welcome Wyoming Square Dancers! sign on the No Vacancy hotel billboard in front of them.
“There must be a room somewhere. I need to clean up before, well—”
“Okay, I understand. There have been some changes at the ranch you need to know about, too.”
“Your father? He’s okay, isn’t he? And Adam?”
“Yeah, they’re good. Dad’s knee is better—the limp is all but gone. And Adam’s shoulder was wounded, but it’s mended now. He has other news, though.”
“And Bonnie? How is Bonnie?”
He laughed softly. “She’s fine. Follows me around everywhere but I think she’s looking for you. She may technically be my dog, but we both know where her heart is. No, trust me, the changes are good. Let’s check for a room on the outskirts, away from the convention center.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They finally found a Vacancy sign displayed at the Woodwind Inn, located near a shopping plaza that was currently closed. Cody parked directly under the overhead lights and unnecessarily reminded Cassie to lock the doors of the truck behind him while he went inside and registered.
She locked the doors and scanned the shadows, her gaze returning at once to the strong, retreating figure of her husband.
Was it too late for them? Had her pride cost her a husband? Worse, had it cost her child a complete family?
She suddenly realized she’d been scratching her head and it wasn’t because of deep thoughts. Caked soap and ash—what a sight she must be. Although she was pretty sure she’d left her brush beside the sink, didn’t she have a comb somewhere?
She flicked on the cab light and opened her hobo bag. She found the comb after a little digging. She also found a half of a candy bar and realized how hungry she was—had Cody forgotten about dinner? She knew she had, but now she was suddenly ravenous and quickly devoured a few bites of chocolate and peanuts.
Patting around inside for the snack package of crackers she was almost positive she had, she detected something bumpy on the zippered side and angled the bag toward the light to see what it was.
She saw nothing and was about to investigate further when Cody beeped the locks open and once again slid behind the wheel.
“They only had one room,” he said, as he handed her a small courtesy package that included a toothbrush and toothpaste. “I think that’s better anyway. Considering everything, I mean.”
“One room is all we need,” she said, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the thought of hanging out all alone with him in a small room with no diversions. Still, that was better than laying awake all night by herself waiting for someone to break down the door and throw a hand grenade into her room…?.
JUDGING FROM THE UNEASY glances the girl at the front desk had thrown at him as he registered, Cody had to assume he looked as charred and tired as Cassie did.
The room was unexpectedly nice, with lots of extras like fluffy linens and even a small gas fireplace, which he ignited as Cassie took the first shower. He dug his novel out of his duffel and sat near the gas fire, the flickering flames immediately reminding him of the aftermath of the explosion.
Setting the book aside, he dug the small jewelry box out of his pocket and opened it again. Should he give it to her?
He could have lost her today, finally and irrevocably. And he could have lost a son or daughter he’d known about for less than twelve hours.
Who would try to kill Cassie and why? He needed to know what she knew—why was the old lady upset before her death? A premonition? And why did Cassie say she wondered if she should have done things differently? What, exactly?
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t hear the shower go off and was surprised when the door opened and Cassie emerged, a towel wrapped around her head, a white robe, compliments of the inn, belted above the baby bump.
His hand closed around the little box and he slipped it into his pocket as he got to his feet. With everything that had happened, the miracle of being in the same room with Cassie was hard to grasp. For several seconds he just stood there staring at her until he finally mumbled, “I’ll take a short shower, then we can hit the hay.”
“What about dinner? Aren’t you hungry?”
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