Deadly Fall

by Elle James

  Andrew stiffened. His grandfather had told him stories of the antics of the pair with whom the Stratfords were rumored to be related. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “News articles dating back to the late 1920s followed the exploits of the Malones. They were crafty rumrunners who transported kegs of whiskey from British Columbia to San Francisco.”

  “And you’re looking for a lost shipment of whiskey kegs?” Andrew shook his head. “That’s a lot of research for old barrels.”

  Joe shared a grin with his brother. “That’s not all they did.”

  Andrew knew the stories. His grandfather had repeated them time and again as they’d sat on the back patio watching the sun set on Cape Churn. But he let the twins tell their version, their eyes bright, their bodies tense with excitement.

  Jared leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. “The Malones were also jewel thieves. One shipment of whiskey was supposed to be delivered to a wealthy San Franciscan, Willard Jameson, who owned a number of speakeasies and jewelry stores.”

  Joe picked up the story. “Rumor had it the man paid off the local law enforcement. They seized the shipment as soon as the Malones pulled into port. The Malones escaped, learned of Jameson’s betrayal and vowed to get their revenge.”

  Jared glanced around the room and spoke in a hushed voice. “They broke into one of Jameson’s jewelry stores, took all of the most precious of gems, including the Star of Nairobi, a special diamond Jameson had imported to make a wedding ring for his fiancée.”

  Joe jumped in with, “They stole one of Jameson’s fastest yachts and headed north in the middle of the night. Reports from the coast guard indicated a light flashing by during the night as far north as the southern tip of Oregon, but the authorities never spotted the yacht during the daytime.”

  “A friend of a friend of the Malones wrote a fictional account of the couple and published it.”

  “Fictional?” Andrew asked.

  Jared nodded. “Only we think it was based on the truth. It was published years after the theft occurred. The Malones disappeared after that last run, never to run rum again.”

  “The newspaper from that time reported that Jameson offered a reward for anyone with any information leading to their arrest.” Joe shuffled through a file and pointed to a photocopy of an old newspaper report. “In the editorial comments, an anonymous writer said Jameson had put a price on their heads for anyone who would assassinate them.”

  “Others say Peg got pregnant and they went into hiding, changed their names and started over.” Jared sat back. “But the Star of Nairobi never surfaced.”

  “And how did you end up in Cape Churn searching for the Malones?” Andrew asked.

  “In the book, the author referred to the Malones as Margaret and Percival. We researched court and church records and went online with ancestry sites looking for people who fit the age and description of the Malones.”

  “And?” Andrew prompted.

  “And we found Margaret and Percival Mason. Here in Cape Churn. They had one daughter, Rowena Mason, who married Thomas Stratford.”

  “Of the Stratford mansion on the cliff,” Jared finished.

  “And you think Stratford might know where the Star of Nairobi can be found?” Andrew asked.

  Jared shook his head at the same time as his brother. “We think they hid the jewels and forgot about them. The Masons died in a car crash when Rowena was twelve years old. She was raised by members of the church.”

  Dix and Leigha emerged from the back of the café and started toward them.

  Andrew wrote his phone number on a napkin and passed it to the Kessler twins. “You can reach Stratford at that number. He doesn’t like trespassers, so be sure to call ahead before you enter his property.”

  “Thank you,” Jared said. “But what is your name?”

  “Andrew.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Andrew Stratford.”

  Dix and Leigha arrived at that exact time. The twins scooted their chairs back to their table, grinning and talking quietly.

  “Did we interrupt something?” Dix asked.

  Andrew shook his head. “No. How was the fishpond?”

  “Great!” Leigha said and then told him all about the different colored koi she’d spotted.

  Dix’s eyes narrowed and her gaze alternated between Andrew and the two men sitting at the table beside them.

  He’d fill her in later on the treasure hunters. He wanted her take on them. Would she think they were dangerous? Could one of them have been the one to push Andrew over the cliff?

  He didn’t think so, but then, he really had no idea who might have done it. He didn’t know many people in the area, as evidenced by Nora Taggert’s mistaken assumption that he was new to town. He had to fix that, for Leigha’s sake. And as soon as they caught the man responsible for pushing him off the cliff, he might consider letting Leigha go to the public school in Cape Churn. She needed friends to play with. Andrew felt like a fish out of water when it came to parenting.

  He would ask Dix if she knew of a manual that could help him figure out what he was supposed to be doing.

  Chapter 9

  Dix polished off a healthy slice of Nora’s famous meat loaf and would have had a beer, but felt she needed to have all of her wits about her, so she’d opted for ice cream instead. Being a bodyguard to a little girl was a huge responsibility she couldn’t take lightly. The nudge of the handgun strapped to her thigh reminded her to stay alert.

  The two young men who’d been talking with Stratford eventually packed up their maps and left the café, waving to her client as they walked out the door.

  Now that they were gone and Leigha was happily licking her cone, Dix posed the question. “What were you talking to those two guys about?”

  Stratford sat back in his chair and studied the rounded mound of ice cream on his cone. “Treasure.”

  Dix frowned. “Your ice cream as treasure, or are those guys searching for treasure?”

  “Both.” He licked the cone and sighed. “We need to come have dinner here more often.”

  “Yes, please.” Leigha licked her cone, getting a spot of chocolate on the tip of her nose.

  Dix’s attention latched on to the way Stratford attacked his cone, studying it carefully before licking it in just the right spot. That look of intense concentration from his incredibly blue eyes and the long, deliberate stroking of his tongue on the creamy dessert made a tingle ripple through her body and pool low in her belly. She licked her own suddenly dry lips and cleared her throat. “Care to explain what you mean?”

  He shook his head and tilted it slightly toward Leigha. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Her curiosity and everything else in her body piqued, Dix worked her way through the rest of that chocolate cone, anxious to get back to Stratford House to get to the bottom of that tongue—er, story.

  Her cheeks heated. Even though she hadn’t spoken her slipup aloud, she’d thought it. Was she insane? Daydreaming about a client’s tongue couldn’t possibly be one of the duties of a good bodyguard. She averted her gaze, staring out at all of the patrons of the café, wondering if one of them was the person who’d pushed Stratford off the cliff.

  At that thought, she went from hot all over to a cold chill. She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Maybe a little. Must be the ice cream.” Or a creepy feeling the culprit was watching them as they enjoyed their dessert.

  Leigha finished her cone and licked her fingertips. “I’m sleepy,” she announced and leaned back in her chair. “Can we go home now?”

  “You bet.” Stratford finished the last bite of his cone and waited at the cash register while Dix took Leigha to the ladies’ room to wash the chocolate off her fingers.

  “An
drew Stratford?” a deep voice called out behind him.

  Andrew tensed as he turned. “Yes.”

  A gray-haired man stood behind him, wearing nice trousers and a button-down, long-sleeved shirt. He held out his hand. “Nelson Clayton. I grew up with your mother.”

  Andrew held his hand up, displaying his stitches. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Nelson.”

  “Mr. Clayton,” he corrected.

  “My apologies.” Andrew dropped his hand to his side. “How can I help you?”

  “Heard you were back in town. Just wondered for how long. Seems you only ever came for the summers.”

  Andrew nodded. “You are correct. I came to spend summer vacations with my grandfather. When I was a child.” He started to tell Nelson he was there for good, but Nora Taggert hurried over, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Mr. Stratford, I hope you enjoyed the meal.”

  He smiled at the woman. “We all did. And the meat loaf was excellent.”

  She beamed, took his credit card, ran it through the machine and handed him the slip to sign. “I hope you won’t be such a stranger. We’d love for you to come back.”

  “You can count on it.”

  “Good.” She handed him the receipt with a smile. “So, are you staying for the summer? Or are you here for good?”

  “We’re here for good, Mrs. Taggert. Thank you for dinner.” He turned to Mr. Clayton. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Clayton.”

  The older man nodded. “Your mother is a special woman. We hated to see her leave Cape Churn.”

  Andrew didn’t know how to respond to the man’s remark and was saved from doing so by the sight of Leigha and Dix walking toward him. “Excuse me.”

  Clayton stepped aside, allowing him to pass.

  He walked to the door and waited for Dix and Leigha to catch up. “Ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dix said.

  He opened the door for her and Leigha. As Dix passed, he leaned close and said, “Please don’t call me ‘sir.’ My name is Andrew.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said automatically and then added, “Andrew.”

  He shook his head, his heart lighter than it had been in a very long time. What was it about Dix that made him feel things he hadn’t felt for years? He touched his hand to her back, a shock of electricity running up his arm. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t. “That’s the military in you,” he said, reminding himself she was a tough woman who was there to work.

  “Hard to beat it out of a person,” Dix said.

  He stared at her, wondering what she meant by her remark. He started to ask, but he didn’t get the opportunity.

  Dix pushed her shoulders back and marched to the SUV like a good soldier.

  “Dix, you’re hurting my hand,” Leigha said, pulling her out of her musings and back to the present.

  Dix released the little girl’s hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She bent to the child’s level and rubbed her little fingers. “Better?”

  Leigha nodded and raised her arms to Dix.

  Scooping her up, she carried her the rest of the way to the SUV. After she’d buckled Leigha into the SUV, Dix straightened.

  “Dix?” Leigha called from inside the vehicle.

  Dix bent to look at the little girl.

  Leigha patted the seat beside her. “Will you sit with me? Please?”

  Andrew could imagine the look Leigha was giving her, with those big blue eyes that could melt the hardest heart. He gave Dix two seconds to think about it before she caved to Leigha’s strong suit—mental manipulation. She could guilt anyone into doing exactly what she wanted.

  Only one second had passed when Dix straightened again and captured Stratford’s glance.

  He nodded, pressing his lips together tightly to keep from grinning.

  Score for Leigha.

  Dix climbed into the backseat, next to Leigha, and took her hand.

  Andrew slipped behind the wheel, started the engine and shifted into Reverse. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see two blond heads tipping toward each other. Again, he was reminded of how much they looked alike. He checked through the rear window and shifted his foot off the brake and onto the accelerator. No sooner had he started moving than a big white pickup darted behind him and stopped.

  Andrew slammed on the brakes, bracing himself for the impact. When he didn’t hear the sound of metal crunching into metal, he checked his side mirror and released the breath he’d caught and held. Then he pulled forward again, shifted into Park and got out of the SUV, anger burning through his veins.

  The truck driver pulled into an empty parking space and got out.

  Andrew walked up to him, fists clenched. “What the hell do you think you were doing?”

  The man wasn’t as tall as Andrew, but he made up for it in size. He had to be at least two hundred and fifty pounds or more. He puffed out his chest and snorted like a bull in a ring. “It’s a free country. I have as much right to be in this parking lot as you rich folks.”

  “Not at the speed you were going.”

  The jerk made a show of looking around. “Don’t see no speed limits posted.”

  “You don’t need speed limits in a parking lot—you need common sense. People bring their children here. You could have run over one.”

  The man stepped around Andrew and shouted over his shoulder, “Then those people should keep their brats on a leash.” He pushed the door to the Seaside Café open so hard Andrew was surprised the glass didn’t break.

  Sheriff McGregor and his wife stood just inside the door. The sheriff put out his hand and stopped the belligerent man as he entered. “Slow it down, Clayton, before someone gets hurt.”

  “You gonna give me a ticket for walking fast?” Clayton demanded.

  “No, but keep it up and I will give you a ticket for destruction of property.”

  Clayton shook the sheriff’s hand off his arm. “Either give me a ticket or leave me alone.”

  Andrew was halfway to the door, prepared to come to the sheriff’s defense.

  Taggert started to say something but Nora leaned close and whispered in his ear. The sheriff snapped shut his mouth, his eyes narrowing as Clayton stepped past him and walked into the café.

  As Andrew reached the door, he asked, “Are you two okay?”

  The sheriff nodded. “Yeah, but I got a real itchin’ to take that fool down a notch.”

  “Tom,” Nora warned. “I can handle him.”

  The sheriff turned to his wife and brought her hand to his lips. “If he gives you even a hint of a hard time, don’t serve him, and call me.”

  She smiled. “I will. Now go on and let me do my job.”

  The sheriff glanced once more at the man he’d called Clayton and stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the café. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy.”

  “That boy” had to be at least thirty years old and he was bigger than a defensive football player. “Who is he?” Andrew wanted to make friends in Cape Churn, but not with that one. He needed to know whom to watch and avoid.

  “That’s Dwayne Clayton. His father is your neighbor, Nelson Clayton. They live on the other side of the ridge from you. Saw Nelson talking to you inside.”

  “My neighbors?” Andrew hadn’t known that. With Stratford House surrounded by forty acres of forest and rocky shoreline, he hadn’t run into anyone other than the man who’d pushed him over the cliff. He stopped to think about the size of his attacker. It had been so foggy, and happened so quickly, he couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think the man had been as big as the younger Mr. Clayton. Though he wouldn’t put it past Dwayne Clayton to push a stranger off a cliff. He’d have to make sure Leigha didn’t stray onto Clayton property. The young Mr. Clayton had no love of children.

  * * *
/>
  After her heartbeat settled to normal, Dix sat in the backseat of Andrew’s SUV, holding one of Leigha’s hands and resting her other hand on her full belly. Nora’s meat loaf had been the best she’d ever had, and she’d loved her own mother’s meat loaf. Up until that rude redneck nearly caused an accident, she hadn’t felt that relaxed since before she’d gone to Ranger training.

  Not long after they left town, Leigha nodded off, her head lolling to the side. She was a beautiful child with a sweet disposition. How anyone could hurt someone so precious was beyond Dix’s comprehension. Every protective instinct inside her stood at the ready to defend this little bit of sunshine.

  Dix leaned back and stared out at the sparkling night sky. She hadn’t seen many stars in Vegas. The multitude of neon lights eclipsed nature’s beauty. Here, along the Oregon coast, big, fluffy clouds chased the stars around the moonlit sky as a breeze blew in from the west, stirring up tiny white-capped waves in the cape.

  “What a huge change from the city that never sleeps to a sleepy town on the West Coast,” Dix said.

  Andrew snorted softly. “Sometimes it can be too quiet. In New York City, all the noise drowns out the little things. Here, you can hear yourself breathe, and sometimes you think the house is alive with all the creaks and groans.”

  Dix smiled. “Vegas was like New York City. Noise and light all night long.” She sighed. “You must love living here.”

  Andrew nodded. “I didn’t realize how much I missed my summers with my grandfather until I came back. I wish I’d spent more time as an adult visiting him. He was an interesting man.”

  “What about your grandmother?”

  “I never got to know her. She passed before I started coming to Oregon to visit my grandfather. I think she made him promise to get to know his grandson. My grandfather didn’t talk much about her. I got the impression he missed her terribly. He never remarried. I went with him once to visit my grandmother’s grave. He laid a single red rose on it and stood for a very long time.”

  Dix’s heart squeezed hard in her chest. “He must have loved her so much. How did she die?”