by Dana Mentink
The room was stuffy, but still he sat.
When Rita finally let herself into the lodge at a few minutes to nine, he was ready. She was moving unhurriedly, carrying no packages or a camera, just a pack big enough for her cell phone and keys.
“Good evening,” he said.
She jumped. “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you there.”
“Sorry I startled you.”
“What are you doing sitting all alone?”
He kept his tone neutral. “I like to be sure all the guests are safely returned for the night.”
Her eyes gleamed the same dark color as her braid. “That’s pretty good service. From what I heard, you had to take a hiatus from your hotel duties.”
“I’m back now.”
Her sharp gaze roamed his face. “The gossip is they had to free you on a technicality, something about mishandled evidence.”
He tensed at her boldness. “I didn’t kill her.”
She flashed a Mona Lisa smile. “Does anyone in this Podunk town believe that?”
He swallowed a flash of anger. “The people that matter believe it. What are you doing here right now? Late to be out, isn’t it?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my night photography plans weren’t successful, so I drove around for a while.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m getting some tea before I head to bed.”
He wasn’t in the mood for coy, not with Laney and the baby in danger. “Why are you here at this hotel? Now? No family, no interest in the park, and you seem to know all about what happened to Pauline.”
Her hand went to her hip. “Everyone in town knows what happened, and my reasons for coming to Furnace Falls are my business. Do you always interrogate your guests like this?”
“When my wife gets a rock thrown at her head.”
Rita’s expression was inscrutable. She showed neither surprise nor guilt. Had she known? Had she been a part of it? “When did that happen?”
He ignored the question. “Are you working for Kenny Sanderson?” he blurted. Bull in a china shop in more ways than one.
Her eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?”
There was the smallest something in her voice that didn’t ring true. “Pauline Sanderson’s brother, but you’re so well-informed you know that already, don’t you?”
“I may have heard the name.” She flipped back her braid. “But I don’t work for him. I don’t work for anyone in this town. I’m my own boss.”
“And what exactly is your line of work?”
She laughed. “I don’t have to stand here and get the third degree, especially on my vacation. Good night, Mr. Duke.” She strolled to the door, fingering the keys to her room. He wished they’d had enough money to change to the more secure card entry.
After a pause, she looked over her shoulder at him. “For what it’s worth, I do believe you’re innocent of Pauline’s death. So maybe you should treat me better. Seems like you could use an ally around here.”
He twitched. Her tone was sly and calculating. Was she toying with him? Did she have information about what had really happened to Pauline? He got to his feet, wanted to press harder, to force her to come clean, but all he could do was watch her go. Why did she believe him innocent? Because she knew the guilty party?
His blood chilled. Or maybe she was the guilty party?
* * *
Exhausted as Laney was, she tossed and turned, twisting the sheets and earning a bleary blink from Admiral, who was curled next to her on the bed. Snatches of nightmares disturbed her mind when she did manage to doze off. Finally, well before sunrise, she heard the sound of hooves striking hard-packed earth. Throwing on clothes, she left Admiral snoring and stepped outside into the blessedly cool air.
Levi Duke, a leaner, ginger-haired version of his cousin Beckett, was on foot guiding two horses across the property. He ducked his head shyly when he saw her, probably hoping she had not noticed him. He still limped a little, a leftover from an accident a few months before. He was fortunate to have survived. While he’d recovered from his injuries, he’d taken over as manager of the stables on the adjoining land and was on the cusp of buying the stables outright with a friend of his. He appreciated being able to cut across the hotel property. Theirs was a mutually beneficial arrangement, as many of the hotel guests enjoyed riding adventures in and around Death Valley during their stay.
Lately, Levi had taken to riding a few of the more difficult horses at night to train them. Besides, she thought, in the wee hours he didn’t need to stop and talk to anyone. He was becoming solitary as an oyster, as Aunt Kitty would say.
Clearly, he’d meant to pass on by in his taciturn way, but she called out to him quietly, so as not to startle the horses or awaken the precious few guests on the property. “Good morning, Levi.”
He stopped and thumbed his cowboy hat back on his head. “Can’t sleep?”
“No. I have a terrible craving for lemonade. I could drink a gallon of it right this second.”
He quirked a grin that pulled at the healing scar curving from the corner of his upper lip. “That’s better than your other craving for peanut butter and olives. I’ll stable these horses and fetch you a glass.”
“No need. Just walk me to the kitchen, okay?” She felt silly asking, but Beckett would read her the riot act if she took chances of any kind. Thinking of that rock sailing so near her temple made her shiver. If she wasn’t pregnant she might have ignored his advice out of stiff-backed pride, but there was another life to consider now besides her own. It wouldn’t hurt to exercise some extra caution for a while.
Levi didn’t seem to find her request for an escort unusual, which told her Beckett had filled him in already about his concerns.
He led the horses by their reins with one hand and offered his elbow to her. She took it gratefully, since the path was a bit uneven and the sun had not yet risen to illuminate the dips. Siblings Levi, Austin and Willow were a tight-knit clan, as close as the family should be. Jude, their cousin, was as close as a brother. They all accepted her, for the most part, and tried to support her as best they could when their cousin Beckett was arrested. But did all the Duke cousins truly believe, like she did, that Beckett was innocent? She thought they did, with the exception of Jude.
They didn’t speak as they walked, both lost in their own thoughts. Levi stayed on the rear porch while she let herself into the kitchen, smack-dab in the middle of a conversation between Jude and Beckett. They both jerked toward her, and she sighed. Bad timing for sure. She should have waited on the lemonade until the coast was clear. Too late to back out.
“Good morning,” she said brightly.
“You didn’t...” Beckett started.
“No, I didn’t. Levi escorted me here. I needed some lemonade.”
He blinked and handed over her cell phone. “At five o’clock in the morning?”
She was going to answer, but Jude interrupted. “It’s called a craving. Pregnant women get them.” The rest of his comment was implied. If you’d been around, you’d know that.
Beckett’s expression was caught between guilt and wonder. The raw vulnerability there made her look away.
“Oh, I... Right,” he said, marching to the fridge.
There was no sense insisting she could do it herself, as he poured her a glass of lemonade from the jug.
She took it and tried not to gulp it down. Beckett alternated staring at her and glaring at Jude. Whatever she’d walked in on didn’t seem to be breaking up anytime soon. The awkward quiet became too much for her to stand. She fidgeted with the glass. “Herm will be here soon to start on breakfast. Are you two going to help crack eggs, or is there some other reason why you’re taking up space in my kitchen?”
Jude didn’t smile at her teasing tone. “I dropped by to tell Beckett that the teens booked here were accounted for last night. They were pl
aying video games at the time someone threw that rock at you. Their parents and the housekeeper both confirmed it.”
“Okay. Might have been someone from town, then,” she said, halfway through her lemonade.
By his furrowed brow, she could tell Beckett did not agree, but he was clearly focused on a different issue. “Jude was about to tell me about Kenny.”
“Yeah.” Jude tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. “I’m only sharing this with you so you don’t get ideas of butting in.”
“Tell me what?”
Jude let out a breath. “Got a report from a coworker at the gas station where Kenny is employed. She said she saw a knife in his backpack.”
Beckett’s hands fisted. “Parole violation. Can you arrest him?”
“First we’ll do a search of the premises,” Jude said. “You know, that pesky evidence thing.”
“Funny.”
“Parole officer’s in court today, so we’ll handle the search.”
Laney felt the lemonade burn in her stomach.
Beckett glowered. “You sent a unit?”
“Yeah. No sign of life at the trailer. Windows are dark. I have a cop standing by, waiting for me. I’m going to check it out right now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. Cop business.”
Beckett put his hands on his hips. “I’m going anyway, Jude.”
“I’ll arrest you for interference.”
“Do what you have to do, but I’m going. I’ll stay out of the way. I want to see him for myself. All I need is one look at him and I’ll know if he was the one who threw the rock.”
Jude scoffed. “You can read minds now?”
“No, but he’s got a hot temper, from what his buddies said. If he sees me, he won’t be able to keep his intentions under wraps. Kenny’s a grenade ready to blow. Let me see if I can pull the pin.”
“This may turn out to be nothing more than an error. We may have no grounds to arrest him for a parole violation if we don’t find that knife.”
“Then I want to see that for myself too.”
Laney saw the slow burn kindling in Jude, in direct proportion to the cement-like stubbornness rising in Beckett. It was like being dropped in the middle of a spaghetti Western. She could practically hear the tumbleweed blowing.
Beckett broke the silent standoff first. “He had his pals beat me up in prison. They could have killed me, but they didn’t. Instead they did something that would hurt worse—they threatened Laney. How do you think that feels?”
He and Jude exchanged a long look and something passed between them. Was it a glimmer of understanding? Jude had loved a woman deeply and lost her. Was he sympathizing? She had no idea. Why were men so stupendously hard to read? As the silence grew, she was not sure if she should finish her lemonade, start cracking eggs or go fetch Levi in case the two men started a wrestling match right there in the kitchen.
There was a tap at the door and Laney hurried to open it. Beckett got there first and looked through the window, opening the door to a startled Dr. Irene.
She wore a jogging suit, her black hair swept into a messy ponytail, glasses perched on her sweaty nose. Her small home was along the same road as the hotel, and Laney gave her carte blanche to snitch a cup of coffee after her regular early-morning run.
“I’m sorry,” Laney said. “I haven’t got the coffee going yet. There have been some distractions.”
Irene looked from Beckett to Jude to Laney. “I just bumped into Herm a minute ago near the chicken coop and he told me about the rock throwing. Are you okay?” She searched Laney’s face. “Please tell me you are not hurt. Herm said you were fine, but I need to hear that from you because men tend to miss details.”
Laney smiled. “I am not hurt. Really and truly, but I am glad to see you, especially now. There’s too much testosterone filling up this kitchen.”
Irene smothered a smile with her hand.
Beckett relaxed a notch. “I’m glad you’re here, Doc. The rock didn’t hit her, but she’s under stress, so maybe her blood pressure needs checking?”
Irene chuckled. “Somehow, Beckett, I think maybe you are adding to that stress.”
“Thank you,” Laney said. “That’s the truth.”
He pulled a sheepish look. “Aww, well...maybe. Can you stay with her until I get back? I have to go with Jude.”
“Certainly.”
“Not necessary,” Laney said at the same moment. “I’m here to help Herm start breakfast just like every day. I don’t need a babysitter, and Irene has a medical practice to attend to.”
Irene grinned. “Well, Herm is walking slow today, his arthritis, I expect, so how about I help you crack some eggs while you’re waiting for him? I can scoot out when he gets here and the meal is under control. My first appointment isn’t until ten. You and I need a chance to chat anyway. Is that scenario agreeable to all parties?”
“Perfect,” Beckett said. “Thanks.”
Jude looked more resigned than pleased as he turned to Beckett. “If Kenny shows, you’re not to be involved, understand me, Beck?”
“Yes.”
Irene gaped. “Kenny? Isn’t that the name of...?”
Beckett nodded. “Pauline’s brother. He’s made threats against Laney. I think he’s behind the rock throwing.”
Her eyes rounded in shock. “He’s close? I read in the paper that he was paroled before Pauline was murdered, but I didn’t imagine he would settle here.”
“Like I said, he’s promised payback for what he thinks I did to his sister, and he’s not the type to shrug off a vow like that.”
“But I thought...” She blushed. “Well, I mean, since you were released from jail, I figured the whole thing was over.”
Beckett didn’t answer. With one final glance at Laney, he followed Jude out.
Irene’s face was still suffused with pink. “That was tactless of me.”
Laney filled the coffee machine with fresh grounds and added water before she pushed the brew button. “It’s okay. You walked into a mess, for sure.”
Irene washed her hands and fetched her favorite pink mug from the cupboard where Laney left it for her. “Are you okay? Truly? I can’t imagine how it feels to have Beckett reappear in your life after he’d asked you for a divorce.”
Laney watched morosely as the coffee began to drip into the carafe. “I haven’t had time to get used to it. He showed up yesterday, out of the blue. First I find a rattlesnake in the van, and then there he is, telling me Kenny is out for revenge. My head is spinning.”
Irene put a palm on her shoulder. “And...does he know about the baby?”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Yes, I had to tell him. I guess he has a right to know, but he promised to leave after this threat is dealt with.”
“Is that what you want?”
Laney’s chin went up. “Absolutely. The bond we had is broken. He’s not my husband any longer, except on paper.”
Irene hesitated before filling her cup with coffee. “People make mistakes, Laney, terrible mistakes. This could be a second chance for you. Why don’t you wrestle with it awhile and see if you change your mind?”
“I won’t.”
Irene sipped her coffee. “All right. I’m a doctor, not a counselor. The most important thing right now is taking care of you and the baby. Is the Monday checkup time still okay for you?”
Laney nodded. The same terror flooded in before every appointment, the worry that her baby might not make it, like the other tiny life she’d lost. At nineteen, she’d made terrible choices, desperate for love and protection, which had resulted in a pregnancy with a young man who’d dumped her as soon as he found out. Even though she’d been horrified to learn she was expecting, the miscarriage a month later left her with a bone-deep ache to be followed by the blow of discovering a uterine
malformation would preclude any future pregnancies. And here she was...pregnant again. Though she would not breathe her fear into words, the surge of terror that she might lose this baby too was ever present.
Irene seemed to read her thoughts. “Everything is right as rain with the pregnancy.”
Laney nodded. Right as rain. The tension in her chest eased a bit. “Yes. I’ve been eating well, hydrating and taking my vitamins, just like my doctor recommends.”
Irene smiled. “Well, you do have an amazing doctor, but you have dark circles under your eyes. Expectant mommies need lots of rest.”
“Maybe expectant mommies who don’t run hotels.” Laney shook her head. “Don’t start fussing like Beckett.”
“Things must be strange for him too.” She paused. “When I heard he was back, I thought your situation might change. I figured he could start fresh now that he’s been released, and maybe you could too.”
The lemonade suddenly turned sickly sweet in Laney’s mouth and she set the glass down. Would it ever be over now? With Pauline’s killer free and her brother Kenny out for revenge? She had the disturbing feeling that a monstrous desert storm was about to bear down upon them again.
Over? Not by a long shot.
SIX
Beckett was careful not to crowd the back of Jude’s police vehicle as they headed east on Highway 374 to Beatty. He kept the window open, breathing in as deeply as he could. After being caged like an animal, he didn’t suppose he’d ever be able to get enough of wide-open spaces and clean desert air, the smell of freedom. He tried not to remember the raucous jail noises, the nauseating scent of sweat and industrial cleaner, the taste of cafeteria food he had to force himself to swallow.
That’s behind me now. But was it really? Was there some other enemy waiting to drop the next bombshell in addition to Kenny? Again he wondered if he would always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for the next explosion. It was not what Laney deserved, not that it mattered. Nothing had changed in that regard. He would forever be seen as a murderer, and he could not trap her in that same net.
