by B. J Daniels
Printed on the side of the box were the name C. Porter and the date: Dec. 24, 1980. He set it down in front of them on the floor.
“I figured her sister might have wanted what she left behind,” Harkin said.
“Sister?” Kate said, her voice breaking.
“Her sister was here visiting her. Only visitor I ever saw her have except for that other nurse, now that I think about it. Sarah. Sarah Welch Barnes now. I heard she’s visiting her sister down in Old Town.” He seemed to shake himself. “Where was I? Oh, her sister. She was staying here but left after… I thought she’d come by for Candace’s things, but she never did. I’m afraid that’s all she left behind,” he said in conclusion.
They thanked him, promised to stop by sometime and left. Cyrus put the box in the back of the truck as Kate climbed in. As Cyrus joined her, his cell phone rang.
Cyrus was surprised to see that the call was from his grandmother. He shouldn’t have been. Whitehorse was a small town. Of course she would have heard that he was back and out of his coma. He felt guilty for not calling her.
“I was hoping you’d come out to the ranch,” Pepper Winchester said. “I would love to see you. Bring your friend.”
“My friend?” he asked as he glanced over at Kate.
A slight chuckle, then, “Kate Landon. You didn’t really think I hadn’t heard about the two of you, did you? My ranch is remote. It’s not on another planet. Maybe you could come out for dinner. Your aunt Virginia is here.”
Aunt Virginia. He remembered her only too well as being mean when he was boy.
“Tomorrow would be good. I’ll have Enid make something special.”
He was still amazed that his grandmother’s housekeeper and cook was still alive. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“I really do need to see you, Cyrus.”
He felt a stab of guilt. Three months ago he’d been on his way to see her before he’d been put into a coma. “All right.”
“Bring Kate.” It sounded like an order as she hung up.
“That was my grandmother,” Cyrus said, snapping his phone shut. “She wants us to come out to dinner. Tomorrow night.”
“Us?” Kate asked in surprise.
“Apparently the Whitehorse grapevine is in fine working order. Do you mind?”
“No, I told you I’ve been wanting to meet her.” She smiled over at him. “I’ve kept you from seeing her and I’m sorry. My problems have taken over your life.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been the best thing about all this.”
THE WELCH RANCH was outside of Old Town Whitehorse, the original settlement back when Whitehorse had been nearer to the Missouri River. But when the railroad came through, the town migrated ten miles north, taking the name with it. Old Town Whitehorse was now little more than a ghost town, except for a handful of ranches and a few of the original buildings.
A woman in her sixties opened the door, wearing an apron and a smile. Kate could hear country-western music playing in the background and the scent of chocolate-chip cookies baking wafted out the open door into the crisp fall air.
“We’re looking for Sarah Welch Barnes,” Cyrus said.
“You’ve found her and you’re just in time,” she said. “The cookies are still warm.” She ushered them into the kitchen and introduced the slightly older woman scooping dough onto a baking sheet as her sister Mary. “What would you like to drink? I have some apple cider.” She looked at each of them, smiling, as she opened the refrigerator and took out a gallon jug of cider. “This came from our trees.”
“Sarah, we’re here about someone you used to work with at the hospital,” Cyrus said. “I’m—”
“I know. You’re Cyrus, a private investigator from Denver, and you’re Kate, you own a shop in Whitehorse that everyone is talking about.” She smiled. “Agnes Palmer stopped by this morning. She sees things. She told me you would be stopping by so I told Mary we should bake some cookies.” She handed each of them a glass of cider. “Sit. Help yourself to some cookies.” She motioned to the cookies cooling on the racks on the table. “I’m not sure what I can tell you about Candace, though.”
Kate shot Cyrus a glance. “I’m sorry, you said a woman told you we would be stopping by?”
“Agnes Palmer. It’s the darnedest thing,” Mary said. “She’s psychic. Seriously, she just knows things. I don’t think she likes it, but she says it must be God’s will since it all started last year when she was struck by lightning out in her garden trying to save her tomatoes. She grows the most beautiful tomatoes.” Sarah smiled. “But you want to know about your aunt.”
As Kate sat down at the table, she realized she hadn’t mentioned Candace was her aunt.
“I liked Candace. I befriended her, I guess you would say. I felt a little sorry for her. She just seemed so…lost.” She slid a rack of cookies toward them as Cyrus pulled out a chair and joined Kate. “You really should try them while they are still warm.”
Kate took a cookie, as did Cyrus. “What do you mean…lost?”
“I just had a feeling that she’d had a hard life. We weren’t close friends. I worked her shift sometimes for her when she didn’t feel well.”
“Was she ill?” Kate asked, alarmed.
“More like depressed. I got the feeling that she’d struggled. I know she didn’t have much money. She didn’t own a car and the one time I stopped by her apartment, it was clear she didn’t have much.”
“Any idea who might have wanted to harm her?” Cyrus asked.
Sarah shook her head. “And it’s sad because I had the feeling that her life was just starting to turn around. She just seemed…happier.”
Kate wondered if that had to do with Elizabeth being there.
“She was even dating.”
“Dating?” Cyrus asked.
“Well, I should say, she’d been out a couple of times.”
“Do you know who the man was?” Kate asked.
“Audie. Audie Dennison. They met at the hospital.” She smiled. “Audie is the nicest man you’d ever want to meet. His older sister Marie raised him after their parents died. She’s a lot older than Audie.” She sobered. “I heard she isn’t well. I’m sure Audie is looking after her the way she looked after him when they were kids.”
“Was he a patient when he met Candace?” Cyrus asked.
“No, his sister, Marie, was. She had a rough pregnancy because of her age, so she was in the hospital for the last few weeks before her son was born.”
Kate shot Cyrus a look.
“She gave birth to a son?”
Sarah smiled. “Jace. A beautiful boy.”
Cyrus took a cookie. “Was Jace born before Candace was killed?” He took a bite of the cookie. “Umm, these are wonderful.”
Sarah beamed. “Thank you. Jace was born that night. I remember because it was just crazy around the hospital. Marie had some complications. We were all so afraid all during her pregnancy that she would lose the baby. Then in the labor room, the baby was breech.” Her smiled brightened. “But he turned and was finally born. Well, it was nothing but a miracle, since Marie never thought she’d have a baby and she’d wanted one so badly. She would have done anything to have a baby and then to have Jace…”
“Was that the only baby born that night?” Cyrus asked.
Sarah laughed. “No, that was what made that night so crazy. The other mother in labor was…well, she was a screamer, demanding, nothing like Marie, and what made it so hard was that she gave birth within minutes of Marie. We really could have used more help.”
“Do you remember the name of the other mother?” Kate asked.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “I sure do. I still feel guilty about it because I gave her to your aunt, who ended up delivering the baby since the doctor was busy with Marie. I think it was Candace’s first birthing. I remember the way she looked at that baby boy. It was heartbreaking. I really think she would have liked a baby of her own and maybe she would have had one with A
udie, if things had been different.”
“You said you remember the name of the woman who gave birth to the second boy that day?” Cyrus asked again.
Sarah hesitated. “Agnes warned me it had to do with the night Candace was killed and those two babies. I suppose it’s all right to tell you. After all, it’s been thirty years. I mean, this can’t be about a lawsuit, because I can tell you that Candace did nothing wrong. That baby was as healthy as could be when he was born.”
“Are you saying the second baby died?” Kate asked, her heart in her throat.
“I thought you knew,” Sarah said, looking confused. “Sudden infant death. We still don’t know what causes it. There wasn’t an autopsy done, but maybe the baby had a weak heart. With all the confusion, the doctor didn’t get to take a good look at the babies before Candace took them down to the nursery.”
Kate couldn’t speak. Had her aunt known that the baby wasn’t well? Is that why she’d agreed to switch the babies?
“Sarah,” Cyrus said. “We’re just trying to find out who killed Candace and why.”
“I am sorry, dear.”
“Thank you,” Kate said. “I was wondering. Did Candace ever wear a silver bracelet?”
“With tiny bells on it,” the woman said, brightening. “Wore it all the time. The patients loved it. That little tinkling sound. They could always tell when she was around. Oh, I am so glad this isn’t about Virginia. It would be just like her to be looking for someone to blame for the death of her baby, even after all these years.”
“Virginia?” Cyrus said and Kate heard something break in his voice.
“Virginia Winchester.” Sarah must have seen his expression. “She had the other baby that night. Do you know her?”
“VIRGINIA WINCHESTER IS MY AUNT,” Cyrus told Kate the moment they were in his pickup headed back to town.
“Did you know she had a baby?”
“No. As far as I know she was never married or even dated, for that matter.”
“That’s terrible about the baby dying,” Kate said. “But what if the baby that wasn’t well was the other woman’s and my aunt knew it?”
Cyrus had thought of that. Given what Sarah Barnes had said about Marie Dennison, her advanced age, her desire for a baby and the problems she had giving birth, he could see how anyone would want to see her leave the hospital with a healthy baby boy—especially if Virginia was unwed and, well, Virginia. She had a way of rubbing people the wrong way.
She’d certainly made a negative impression on Sarah Welch. He could well imagine she hadn’t been popular with Candace, either. For all he knew, Virginia could have been planning to give the baby up, which would have made it even easier for Kate’s aunt to agree to switch the babies.
“Do you think Jace Dennison is your cousin?” Kate asked.
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen him. We left here when I was seven, and as far as I know my family didn’t even know the Dennisons.”
He’d never imagined that this would hit so close to home. But given that he’d dreamed it while in a coma, he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.
“What are you going to do?” Kate asked.
Cyrus looked over at her. Her concern touched him. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Do you mind if we swing by my hotel and pick up the rest of my things? I’d like to stay with you at the shop.”
She nodded and he quickly added, “I thought I could sleep in one of those bedrooms you have made up in the shop, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Thank you. I have to admit I feel a little spooked knowing there is a killer still out there.”
She wasn’t the only one.
Cyrus ran into the hotel, leaving the truck running and Kate waiting. It only took him a few moments to get the rest of his belongings. He wondered why he hadn’t checked out before they went to West Yellowstone. Hadn’t he known he was going to stay with Kate until this was over?
In his room, he noticed something he hadn’t before. The place had been searched—just as Kate’s place had been gone through. He’d had so little to search, he hadn’t paid any attention when he’d stopped by here on the way to West Yellowstone.
As far as he could tell, nothing had been taken because, he suspected, the intruder hadn’t found what he or she had been looking for.
He made an inquiry at the desk, but of course he was told that no one had asked for him and no one had let anyone into his room.
But clearly someone was worried that he and Kate knew more than they did.
KATE HADN’T BEEN able to hide her relief when Cyrus asked to stay with her. She really hadn’t been looking forward to spending the night alone—not after the nightmare she’d had last night.
She’d told Cyrus she didn’t remember it. She hadn’t wanted to worry him. But she did: in the dream, someone had tried to kill her. She feared telling Cyrus about the dream would only make him more determined to keep her out of this investigation.
Once they reached her shop and apartment, Cyrus had checked to make sure no one had been there. He’d changed the locks before they’d left, but he said he wanted to make sure there hadn’t been another break-in. There hadn’t.
“I need to check the basement,” he said.
“Thanks.” She could tell he was upset about what they’d learned and probably just wanted to keep busy. That and he wanted to keep his distance from her.
“Would you mind fixing that cable down there?” she asked. “Halloween is day after tomorrow and the haunted house opens at five o’clock, right after I close the shop.”
He looked like he might argue that she should cancel the haunted house. She didn’t give him a chance and hurried off to get a shower. From upstairs she could hear him working. It was a comforting sound.
She’d always felt she could take care of herself. Now, though, she felt uneasy. Knowing there was a killer still on the loose—a killer who she feared had been in her shop and apartment—had her feeling vulnerable. She hated the feeling and was determined to go back to loving this place and her life here.
But even as she thought it, Kate knew that it was more than just catching the killer and finding out the truth. It was Cyrus. This place would never feel the same once he was gone.
It was late by the time he finished. Cyrus showered while she made them a snack. She wore a skirt, knit top and ballet shoes, and it felt good to be home, especially with him here.
“I baked cupcakes,” she said when he came out of the bathroom. “But if you’re hungrier than that, I could make us an omelet.” He smelled heavenly and his damp hair curled at the nape of his neck.
She hardly ever saw him when he wasn’t wearing his Stetson. She’d thought he couldn’t look any sexier than in it, but she’d been wrong.
Standing there, freshly showered in a T-shirt and jeans, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. He looked almost shy as he thanked her, but passed, saying he wasn’t hungry.
“Are you afraid of my cooking?” she asked, only half joking. She had a pretty good idea that it wasn’t the cupcakes he was passing on. She sensed he was anxious to call it a night.
She tried to hide her disappointment. She’d hoped they would sit around and talk for a while. “Kate—”
“Not to worry. The cupcakes will keep until tomorrow.”
“I’m leaving after this is over.”
His words hit her hard, even though she’d been expecting them. “I know.”
“I can’t leave my brother to take care of our business forever,” he said.
“No, of course not. I realize that I’ve kept you from your work in Denver, your life—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he said, taking a step toward her. “Kate,” he said taking her shoulders in his hands.
“Thank you for staying as long as you have,” she said quickly, afraid of what he was going to say.
“I care about you,” he said, his voice rough. “Too much. Being with you…” He shook his head and let go of h
er. “I can’t do this.”
She told herself this would be worse if they’d made love and felt her eyes burn with tears from the lie. “It’s late,” she said pointedly and started to step past him.
Cyrus grabbed her arm, stopping her.
Desire spread through her, centering at her core, making her ache for him. “Please,” she said, pleading, but not for what he thought.
He quickly let go of her. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He strode out of the room and down the stairs.
She stood, fighting the need to call him back, knowing how much harder it would be for him if she did.
IT WAS DARK by the time Roberta reached her house. She’d bought a place up on the hill overlooking Whitehorse. It was the part of Whitehorse people moved up to when they had enough money.
The way the house was situated she had a lot of privacy, something else she liked. She’d planted a hedge along each side and trees formed a shelter at the front and back.
She knew her neighbors, but she made a point of not being too friendly. When she came home, she wanted to be alone and unwind.
Roberta knew that people in town talked about her. The problem with Whitehorse was that everyone knew your business and most people had been around long enough to know everything about you from the time you were that poor little Roberta Thompson.
Marrying Mark Warren had been the smartest thing she’d ever done. He had been sixteen years older. She’d married him for his money and for what he could give her and he’d never tried to renege on their agreement. She liked being married in name only, liked being Mrs. Roberta Warren.
She’d wanted an education. He’d seen that she got it. What she hadn’t told him was that she planned to leave Whitehorse in the dust once she was finished with her schooling.
But it hadn’t turned out that way. Mark had gotten sick and she had to come back to take care of him. She’d gone to work at the hospital when she’d found out that her husband didn’t have any money and had mortgaged the ranch to the hilt to pay the bills. He had a gambling habit she hadn’t known about and had borrowed against the ranch.
