by B. J Daniels
“What’s going on?” Alexa asked in the heavy silence she’d walked into.
“It’s Carolina,” Devlin said from the end of the table. “She’s going back to California.”
Alexa felt her heart drop. Was this because of that stupid palm reading last night?
“Look, it’s all my fault,” Jayden said. “I shouldn’t have said anything about babies. I had no idea—”
“No, if anyone is to blame, it’s me,” Archer said, getting to his feet. “I knew how badly she wanted a baby and she knew I didn’t want kids. We were bound to get to this point. It’s been coming for a long time.”
“You aren’t going too, are you?” Sierra asked.
Archer nodded his head. “She’s making arrangements, but the earliest flight she can get is the day after tomorrow.”
Alexa was glad he wasn’t going to leave Carolina alone, given what she’d seen when she’d taken the young woman’s hand last night.
“I saved you some lunch,” Landon said to his sister, letting go of Sierra to head to the stove.
She couldn’t miss the way Sierra looked at her. A mixture of anger and jealousy. She wanted Landon all to herself. But how far did that need of hers go? All the way to murder?
“Thank you, but I have a date for supper later,” Alexa said as she joined her brother at the stove.
Landon raised a brow. “With that cowboy again?”
She bristled at the way he said “cowboy.” It sounded like something Sierra would say.
“At least taste this,” her brother said shoving a spoonful of meatloaf toward her. “It tastes just like Mother used to make.”
Meatloaf was one of the few things their mother did cook. “Yes, it does taste like hers.” Her stomach roiled. She didn’t need the meatloaf—or the reminder.
“He doesn’t wait on me like that,” Sierra said as she started to clean off the table.
“Sierra,” Alexa said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I wanted to thank you for the cookies and milk you left beside my bed last night.”
“You left her cookies and milk?” Landon asked, surprise and pleasure in his tone as he stepped back over to the table.
“No,” Sierra said and blinked her big baby blues. “It wasn’t me.”
“Oh?” Alexa said. “They were chocolate chip cookies. I thought Landon must have told you about a tradition we had as children.”
Her brother was studying his wife, not quite as sure now. “You remember me telling you how Alexa would sneak me cookies? Mother hated us eating any sugar. Chocolate chip cookies were my favorite and Alexa’s.”
“You might have mentioned it,” Sierra conceded, clearly flustered. “But I didn’t leave her cookies and milk. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“Strange. I wonder who did?” Alexa said and glanced around the table at Archer, Gigi and Jayden. They all shook their heads.
“I have no idea who left them,” Sierra snapped.
“Landon, did you mention our tradition to anyone else?” Alexa asked and saw him start to shake his head. “I probably did,” Sierra said quickly. “It was so sweet, I’m sure I shared it with someone, maybe Carolina.” She turned to her husband. “It’s my day to clean up the dishes. You should see if you can help Devlin.”
“Actually,” Alexa said. “Why don’t you go see if Carolina’s all right? Landon and I will do the dishes.”
Sierra started to object, but Landon cut her off.
“It will give Alexa and me a chance to talk.”
Sierra’s face was a mask of fury, but she worked up a smile for Landon, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and shot Alexa a hateful look before she flounced out, Archer, Gigi and Jayden leaving as well.
“YOU HAVE A DATE AND ARE definitely not doing dishes,” Landon said after they were alone in the kitchen. “But I’d love it if you kept me company while I did them. I was worried about you when Gigi said you hadn’t been downstairs all day. Are you all right?”
She was touched by his concern.
He turned to face her. “I think I know what this is about. Listen, I’m sorry, sis. I love you. It wasn’t fair what I did to you, getting you here and then expecting you to—”
“It’s all right,” Alexa said, feeling awful. “I do want to help you, Landon, any way I can.”
“I know.” He gave her a hug and the two of them began to clear the table. It felt again like the way it had when they were kids. They’d been inseparable. Was that her problem with Sierra? Was she just jealous that she was no longer the most important person in Landon’s life anymore?
“I’m concerned about what is going on in this house,” Alexa said as they dumped the dishes in a tub of hot, soapy water.
She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with him, but he had to know. “Sierra probably mentioned that I was up on the third floor earlier.”
“Sis, we told you how dangerous—”
“There was someone else up there going through boxes. I didn’t get a look at the person, but whoever it was heard a noise and quickly left. Was everyone downstairs when you and Sierra returned?”
He frowned. “Everyone but Carolina. Archer told us that they’d had an argument and she was leaving.”
Why, if that were true, would she have been going through boxes up on the third floor? Was it possible the argument had been a ruse?
“What difference does it make who was up there going through boxes? Maybe they were just curious. Or maybe what you heard wasn’t even a person.”
“Landon, there is something going on that has nothing to do with ghosts. You and the others haven’t heard the Crying Woman again, have you? Someone wants you all to believe there are ghosts in this house. If we knew why, then maybe we would know why you keep having these accidents.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said quietly, checking over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “A haunted bed-and-breakfast might bring in more people than one that isn’t.”
Relief swept over her. He had believed her and given it some thought. “You think Sierra might have been behind the Crying Woman.”
“Or one of her friends. It isn’t like any harm was done,” he added quickly.
“When I found the device, someone hit me and left me lying out in the hallway, Landon,” she said.
“They obviously panicked.”
She wanted to shake him. “You suspected something or someone was responsible for your accidents when you called me to come out here. You wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t been suspicious.”
Before he could argue the point, she said, “My getting hit wasn’t the only incident. Whoever left me the milk and cookies…they drugged them. I woke up on the floor.”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t imagine who would do something like that. It wasn’t Sierra. You heard her—she swore it wasn’t her.”
Alexa said nothing as he laid the dish towel on the counter and sat down at the closest chair. Resting his elbows on the table, he put his head in his hands.
She took a chair next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s not just you someone is trying to get rid of now. We have to find out why.”
Alexa heard the doorbell and glanced at her watch. Her date. “I have to go,” she said to her brother, squeezing his shoulder. “Just think about what I’ve said.”
Landon nodded solemnly as the doorbell rang again. “I want to meet your date.”
“Yes,” Sierra said from the kitchen doorway. “We all do.”
IT WAS SHADY AND COOL in the cottonwoods along the Milk River. The river was narrow and deep where it cut through the Chisholm ranch, the water dark and surprisingly fast-moving along this section of the river.
Emma hadn’t gone far when she saw Aggie step out of the trees and onto the path.
She felt her heart leap in her chest and, as she watched Aggie reach into the shoulder bag she carried, she feared she’d made a fatal mistake agreeing to this.
For one heart-s
topping moment, Emma thought Aggie was about to pull a gun from her purse and slowed to a stop a few yards away, moving only when she realized how foolish she’d been as Aggie pulled out a large manila envelope.
“Are you all right?” Aggie asked, no doubt seeing her initial panic.
Emma nodded and joined the woman. “A little spooked.”
Aggie laughed. “You have to trust me.”
“I’m trying,” she said as the woman laid the large envelope in her hands.
She opened the envelope and took out one of the surveillance photos. It had been shot from a distance with a telephoto lens, from the look of it.
The woman in the photo was in her early fifties, lean and pretty, with medium-length dark hair that accented her dark eyes.
“Well?” Aggie asked.
Emma had seen a photograph of Laura after she’d insisted that Hoyt must have one. He’d dug out a box of old photographs from the basement.
It took him a while, but he’d finally produced one of Laura. She’d been a beautiful redhead with long, luxurious hair and big, blue eyes.
“The hair and eye color is wrong,” Emma said.
Aggie gave her an impatient look. “Hair dye and contacts. Do you really think she could have stayed hidden all these years if she had stayed a blue-eyed redhead? She would have stuck out like a sore thumb. But the way she looks now, I really doubt anyone in Whitehorse would recognize her. She wasn’t from here and few would remember her, since she and Hoyt weren’t married that long.”
Laura Chisholm had been beautiful. No wonder Hoyt had fallen for her. Emma felt a hard jab of jealousy. And she had been a redhead too.
“Look at her face,” Aggie ordered. “The cheekbones, the shape of the eyes. Here.” She reached into the envelope and brought out another photo. “It’s a computerized age-progression photo of what Laura Chisholm would look like if she were still alive. I had a friend in law enforcement make it for me.”
Emma was reminded that Aggie had a lot of friends. That was how she’d been able to avoid the mental hospital. She stared at the surveillance photo, then the computerized photo. The women could have been twins. “What is this woman’s name?”
“She goes by Sharon Jones. Her address is in the envelope. She lives in Billings—just three hours away—and guess what? Sharon Jones didn’t exist until four months ago—just about the time you married Hoyt.”
Emma felt a chill at the thought that the person who might want her dead could be just three hours away. Or, just inches away, if she was wrong about Aggie, she reminded herself.
“Do you believe me now?” Aggie demanded.
“I have to admit, there is a remarkable resemblance,” Emma said. “Aggie, you need to take this to the police in Billings,” she continued, trying to hand the photos and envelopes back to her.
“I told you, no police. We’re doing this together. It’s your life that’s at stake as well as mine. I don’t trust the police not to blow this. If Laura disappears again, the next time you see her will be the day she kills you. Me, I’ll be in the loony bin if the police don’t get a confession out of her. But you and I—” Aggie suddenly broke off midsentence.
“You didn’t tell anyone you were meeting me back here, did you?” Aggie demanded.
“No, I snuck out.”
Aggie swore. “You called the sheriff.”
“No.” Emma turned and saw several deputies moving through the trees.
“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Aggie cried, shoving the manila envelope with the photographs at her before turning to run.
“Stop!” A gunshot boomed.
Emma heard Aggie cry out as she stumbled and fell into the river. As she stared in shock, the deputies and sheriff came running up, followed moments later by Hoyt.
Emma could only stare at the spot where Aggie had gone under and hadn’t come up again.
MARSHALL KNEW SOMETHING was wrong the moment Alexa answered the door. He’d been smiling before that, but now whispered, “Are you okay?” She looked pale and her eyes weren’t their usual brilliant violet.
“Why don’t you come in,” she said tightly. “Everyone wants to meet you.”
Everyone? “Great,” he said, tugging off his Stetson, then he wiped his feet and stepped into the mansion.
He’d known it would be impressive inside but still he was taken aback by how grandiose the interior had once been. Its looks had faded, but it was still beautiful. He took the opulence all in and let out a low whistle.
“High praise,” Sierra said and stepped forward. “I’m Sierra Wellington. I’m glad you like my house.”
“Wellington Cross,” a man behind her corrected. He looked enough like Alexa that Marshall figured he was Landon even before he introduced himself.
The others were quickly introduced. Gigi, the former cheerleader, and no doubt, the most popular girl at school. Archer, the former jock. Devlin, the smug rich kid. Jayden, the odd man out. Only Carolina was missing.
He noticed that Alexa’s brother looked uncomfortable and could understand now why Alexa felt the need to protect Landon. Marshall understood it even more after meeting Landon’s wife. Under all that blond, blue-eyed, innocent exterior, Sierra was as cold as this house.
“So how many cattle do you have on your ranch?” Devlin asked.
“I couldn’t say offhand,” Marshall answered. It was impolite to ask a rancher how many cattle he ran. It was like asking someone how much he was worth.
“You probably have hired hands to do all the real work, right?” Archer asked.
“No, my brothers and I and our father work the ranch. We actually like getting our hands dirty,” Marshall said.
“I apologize for them,” Alexa said after they were seated in his pickup.
“You don’t need to apologize for them,” he said. “They aren’t your friends.”
“No,” she agreed quickly.
“They’re not your brother’s either.”
She glanced over at him. “You felt that as well?”
He nodded as he started the pickup and drove toward town.
“I keep telling myself they’re young.”
“Not that much younger than us. They’re spoiled rich kids. I got the feeling your brother doesn’t like them any more than you do.”
“Does it show?”
He laughed. “No, you both hide it well. So that bunch is remodeling the mansion?” He couldn’t help sounding skeptical.
“Apparently, though they work odd hours. They must work late at night since no one gets up early. I really don’t know what they’re doing.”
He saw her frown. “Something else happen?”
She turned toward him, her expression softening. “Last night someone left me milk and cookies. I thought it was my brother because there was a note there from him and chocolate chip cookies and milk were a tradition when we were kids. They were drugged. I woke up on the floor—a couple of hours ago.”
“Alexa,” he said, unconsciously hitting the brakes as he reached over for her.
“I’m all right. They didn’t give me enough drugs to kill me so I’m pretty sure they are just trying to scare me off.”
He swore, terrified of what they might try next. He said as much to her as he saw Whitehorse in the distance, the tall cottonwoods marking the Milk River’s trail past the small Montana town.
“That’s why I have to know as much as possible about the Wellington family history. It doesn’t make any sense why anyone would want me out of that house unless…”
“Unless?” he asked.
“My sister-in-law seems to be rather jealous of my relationship with my brother.”
“So much so that she drugged you?”
“Possibly. I saw Jayden, the single man at the house, with one of the wives. It could have been Sierra, which would explain why she might want to get rid of my brother. That and his inheritance. And I have a feeling Sierra hasn’t been honest about her past.”
Yep, a viper’
s nest, Marshall thought as he pulled into the yard of an old house on the river on what locals called Millionaire Row. The houses were modest by most standards, two to three stories and wood framed. This one had a large shop next to it, where he figured they would find the owner.
“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked as Alexa rubbed her temples.
She nodded, although he could see it hurt her head to do so.
Marshall led her toward the large metal shop building to meet a friend of his father’s who had roots that ran back to before the railroad cut across this part of Montana.
“Hey, Little Chisholm,” Dave called as they stepped into the cavernous building. He’d been calling all six of the brothers that since they were kids and his father used to bring them here on visits. He wiped his hands on a rag and stood from where he’d been working on a large lawn mower.
Marshall used to love to come over to Dave’s shop in the winter to sit by the woodstove and listen to his father and Dave talk hunting and fishing, the weather and what was going on locally. Dave usually knew everything going on. Marshall recalled many tall tales that got kicked around this building over the years.
“Dave, this is my friend Alexa Cross,” he said by way of introduction. “She is interested in the Wellington family.”
DAVE, A WIRY OLD MAN WITH a shock of white hair and intense blue eyes, smiled. “You one of them staying out there at the mansion?”
Alexa nodded, even though it hurt to do so. “Anything you can tell me would be greatly appreciated.”
He studied her for a moment as if sizing her up, then invited them to sit in one of the mismatched chairs around a desk at the back. “You’re not a relation, are you?” he asked as he walked over to an antique soda pop machine. “Coke or Dr. Pepper, those are your choices.”
“No, I’m not a relative,” Alexa said.
“I’ll take a Coke,” Marshall said and looked over at Alexa. She nodded. “Alexa will too.”
“Wouldn’t want to tell you anything if you were,” Dave said with a shake of his head as he brought them each a Coke and a Dr. Pepper for himself. “Nasty business, those Wellingtons.”
