A Dangerous Inheritance

by Leona Karr

  He decided to take her to the Buckboard Inn, which was a fancier restaurant than the name implied. The place had good food, a bar with a dance floor and a pleasant clientele. Josh had to admit that his own heavy spirits needed lifting, and he wasn’t above showing Stacy off to the locals.

  She was pleased when he slipped her arm through his as they walked across the parking lot to the entrance. Strings of tiny lights had been laced through branches of the trees surrounding the building, and they flickered like fireflies in the enveloping twilight. Josh asked for a table on the back patio.

  They ordered drinks, a martini for her and a whiskey sour for him. Not much was said as they sipped their drinks and ordered steaks from a varied menu that tempted their taste buds. When they did talk, they avoided any reference to the present situation. Stacy learned that Josh had dropped out of college to take care of his grandfather, and she admitted that she’d taken a business degree because it was expedient, not because she loved marketing.

  They were having dessert and coffee when they heard a live combo playing music inside. Josh asked her if she liked to dance.

  “Is that just a rhetorical question or an invitation?”

  He grinned. “Would you like to dance, Miss Ashford?”

  “Yes, I believe I would.” She set down her coffee cup, returning his smile. “Thank you for asking, Mr. Spencer.”

  Once they were on the small dance floor, she realized that it hadn’t been a good idea. Not only was he a smooth dancer, guiding her with slight pressure, but he had a natural rhythm that challenged her ability to change quickly from western swing dances to cha-cha and two-steps.

  “Where did you learn to dance like that?” she gasped as he whirled her around three times at the end of a musical set.

  “Not much else to do on a Saturday night. There was always a dance somewhere around when I was growing up. Plenty of honky-tonk bars between here and Denver when I got of drinking age.”

  Dancing together was a blessed detachment from the heavy burdens they’d left at the hotel, and this created a relaxed and fresh nuance between them. When the band played a slow number, she cradled into the graceful length of his body with perfect ease. He held her so close that laying her cheek against his was a given. As his superbly fit body and his pervading masculine aura filled her senses, she was lost to another world.

  “Let’s not go back tonight,” he whispered and searched her face.

  She knew what he was asking, and in retrospect, it seemed her answer had been there from the first moment she’d lain her head against his chest in a driving rainstorm.

  An hour later, as a brush of neon lights played through the half-opened blinds of the motel room, Josh looked down upon her lovely nakedness and a swell of tenderness nearly choked him. As his hands slipped over her smooth skin, his mouth found hers in a kiss that began softly and built to passionate insistence. She engaged his senses like no other woman he had ever known, and for the first time in his life, he surrendered all of himself. As she clung to him, a building rhythm of exploding sensation joined them together, and he gave himself wholly and completely to a love he’d never known before.

  As she rested in his arms, he longed to make a commitment to her, promising love and devotion, but the words wouldn’t come. Not because they lacked sincerity, but because he had little to offer her besides himself. When the sun rose, he would still be Josh Spencer, a working man from a hick town named Timberlane.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Stacy awakened the next morning, relaxed and satiated with love, she was startled to find herself alone in bed. During the night she’d slept with her back nestled against Josh, his arms around her, and the tensions and insecurities of the recent days had faded away like a fog before a warm sun. She’d experienced a fulfilling peace that radiated to the depths of her being, but as she opened her eyes and saw the empty space beside her, an empty coldness shot through her. She sat up with a jerk.

  Then she heard Josh in the shower.

  Even as she chided herself for all the doubts that had flooded through her, a sense of uneasiness remained. Where did they go from here? Nothing had changed in the circumstances that had brought them together. A compelling physical attraction had surmounted the barriers between them—but only for a night. Josh was still possessed by a consuming desire for revenge that overshadowed everything else in his life.

  If only they didn’t have to go back to the hotel, she thought. In a weird way, from the very beginning, Glenda had manipulated them from the grave. It was as if her restless spirit was seeking release.

  As Stacy eased out of bed, a sense of foreboding settled upon her like a warning. She slipped into her panties and bra, and she was removing her small cosmetic bag from her purse when Josh emerged from the bathroom.

  “You’re up.” He smiled as he came toward her with only a towel around his waist. “I was hoping you might need a little help showering.”

  The thought of his caressing hands moving smoothly over intimate parts of her body sent a spiral of heat through her, but she decided to take the offer lightly.

  “I bet you used up all the hot water,” she teased.

  “No, I took a cold shower, for reasons you might guess.”

  She flushed and avoided looking at his nearly naked masculine physique. Maybe he was used to this kind of spontaneous lovemaking, but she wasn’t. The thought of his spending the night with Marci on occasion made her move quickly past him before he could take her in his arms.

  “I’ll only be a jiffy,” she promised as if she thought time was the consideration on his mind.

  He stared at the bathroom door after she’d shut it. What in blazes? He went back over the evening before, the sensuous moments they’d spent on the dance floor, her readiness to spend the night, and the unbelievable moments of making love. They had each shared and given totally and completely to the other. Had he misread her completely? Where had he gone wrong? Had he failed to meet some kind of unspoken standard?

  By the time he was dressed and waiting for Stacy to emerge from the bathroom, he’d reined in his emotions. In retrospect, he had decided that she’d chosen the correct handling of the situation. He’d never let his feelings for a woman get out of control before, and he was even relieved at the distance she intended to put between them.

  By the time they’d finished breakfast at the motel restaurant, their relationship was back on an even keel, and Josh felt comfortable saying, “I need to take a quick run home and check on Gramps this morning. Would you like to come along for the ride?”

  Stacy hesitated. What kind of reception would the old man give her, she asked herself. Would he accept the truth that she wasn’t Glenda or vehemently lash out at her again? However, even the prospect of another ugly scene outweighed going back to the hotel and spending time alone.

  “Yes, I’d enjoy the ride.”

  “Good. If they’ve started work on the bridge, we may have to park the car and walk to the house.”

  “After yesterday’s hike, I think I can handle it.”

  He chuckled. “We may make a mountain gal out of you yet. You look great in jeans, you know.”

  She searched his face to see if there was a hidden meaning in his words, and she was strangely disappointed when he quickly changed the subject. “I’ll telephone Chester and Rob and tell them to take another day off. I don’t want them around when the coroner shows up.”

  Before they left Timberlane, he checked with the coroner’s office, and was assured Jay Hawkins and a helper would be at the hotel about three o’clock.

  “Plenty of time to check on Gramps, have lunch, and get back before then.” Mentally he began making a list of things he wanted to pick up while he was home.

  When they reached the turnoff to the house, a couple of men were working on the bridge’s bulwark. Josh pulled the truck over and parked behind their vehicle. After exchanging a few shouted remarks with the workers, Josh and Stacy headed up the road toward the house.
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br />   When he reached over and took her hand, questioning thoughts that had been weighing her down seemed to flutter away. The afterglow of the night they’d spent together was in his eyes and touch. If this was all she ever had, the memory would be worth treasuring.

  As they passed the cabins, Josh automatically assessed their condition and that of the wooded areas surrounding them. Some of those spruce and pine trees would have to come down. Fire was always an unseen enemy and clearings around the buildings were a must. He should stay at home and get ready for the next wave of campers.

  His grandpa’s greeting when he entered the kitchen echoed his guilty thoughts. “So ye decided to come around and tend to business, did ya? This place isn’t going to run itself, you know.”

  “No use asking if you’re feeling your ornery self,” Josh chided with a smile.

  “Who’s that tailing after you?” his grandfather demanded, squinting as Stacy came in behind Josh.

  She stiffened. Was the old man going to start waving his cane at her, yelling and screaming? She couldn’t tell from his stare what was going on in his mind.

  “She’s a friend, Gramps,” Josh said easily, hoping to head off an explosion. “I talked Stacy into coming along and having lunch with you.”

  Stacy stayed a few feet away as she greeted him with a forced lightness in her voice. “Hello, Mr. Spencer. I hope you don’t mind me tagging along with Josh.”

  The old man squinted at her and then snorted. “As if I have anything to say about him bringing a pretty lady to lunch.”

  Both Stacy and Josh released a breath of relief at the same time. She’d passed the first test. Apparently he was willing to accept her as a new friend of Josh’s. Now if they could keep the conversation away from any mention of Glenda, the visit might be a success.

  Mrs. Crabtree breezed into the kitchen with a smile on her round, dimpled face. “I knew there was some reason I put in a pudding cake this morning. I’ll just dump these sheets in the wash and see what I can scare up for lunch.” As she paused for a breath, she grinned at Stacy. “My, you’re a pretty one, all right. My son saw you sitting out in front of the store, wearing shorts. Land’s sake, he was ready to pack up and leave for California.” She laughed deeply and her ample stomach shook right along with her mirth.

  Thank heavens for Mrs. Crabtree, thought Josh. Her breezy good nature neutralized what might have been a tense situation.

  While Josh visited with his grandfather, Stacy set the table and helped Mrs. Crabtree make sandwiches from diced leftover chicken, chopped boiled eggs, pickles and lettuce. There was coffee and warm chocolate pudding cake for dessert.

  After lunch Josh and his grandfather walked out to the barn and the two women remained at the table.

  “Well, now, this is right nice,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed. “I’ve always been mighty fond of Josh. Never thought he’d take up with a city girl, though. It would be a darn shame to drag him off to some smog-filled place where a body can’t get a breath of fresh air.”

  “There’s little chance of that,” Stacy replied, wondering where the conversation was going. Was there a hint of last night’s lovemaking about their behavior? It was true, they’d been avoiding looking directly at each other, but maybe they’d exchanged a quick glance or two without realizing it.

  The woman had said she was mighty fond of Josh, but she omitted any mention of his sister. She must have known both of them since they were children. Stacy’s curiosity got the best of her. Maybe Mrs. Crabtree would put a different spin on what had been said about Josh’s sister.

  “What can you tell me about Glenda?” Stacy asked, boldly changing the subject.

  “The less said the better.”

  Stacy defended the question. “I’m trying to understand Josh’s feelings,” Stacy told her. “He must have loved her terribly.”

  “Lots of people did. She was a heartbreaker, that one. Didn’t matter who it was. She could twist any man around her little finger. Why, I could tell you—” She broke off and shook her head. “No, what’s past is past. No use dragging it up now.”

  The way she set her mouth, Stacy knew she wasn’t going to learn anything more. The rest of the visit was spent listening to Mrs. Crabtree talk about people and places that held little interest for Stacy.

  Stacy tried several times to bring the conversation back to Josh’s sister, but without success. Mrs. Crabtree launched into a story about the time her son and Josh had ridden horses up to the logging camp and gotten lost. They had to spend the night in one of the old deserted cabins, until morning came and they could find their way home.

  ON THE WAY BACK to Timberlane, Stacy kept going over the things Mrs. Crabtree had said, trying to read between the lines. Stacy couldn’t help wondering if Mrs. Crabtree had some pertinent knowledge or gossip that might make sense out of Glenda’s death.

  As Stacy glanced at Josh, she wondered if she should bring up the subject, but decided against it. He already had enough on his mind. With the discovery of the grave and the delay in working on the renovations, everything was at a standstill.

  They arrived at the hotel at two-thirty and were surprised to find Hawkins, the coroner, and a hefty young man waiting. They had driven an official van from the county’s forensics department.

  Josh apologized for not realizing he might arrive before three o’clock.

  “No problem,” Jay Hawkins assured Josh with a dismissive wave of his slender hand. He was a short, thin man, and energetic in the way he spoke and moved. Stacy guessed his age to be around forty.

  Josh introduced Stacy to both men. “Miss Ashford, owner of the property.”

  “This is Pete Gower,” Hawkins said. “He’s going to help me assess your find.”

  Find? Stacy was a little taken aback by the impersonal term. Even though she realized digging up the remains of a human being was probably routine to these two men, she felt herself cringing at the task ahead of them. There was no way that she was going to be a witness to it.

  Josh must have read her thoughts because he said, “No need for you to make that climb again, Stacy. I’ll show them the place.”

  She gave him a grateful look and left them, saying, “I’ll be waiting to hear.”

  “We’ll get our things from the van,” Hawkins said. He opened up the back and brought out a police radio, shovel, rake, gloves, a fold-up canvas litter and some body bags.

  “Here, let me take some of that,” Josh offered.

  “Thanks,” Hawkins said and handed him an armful.

  As Josh led the way around the hotel, he told them, “We’re going to have to hike up to the ridge. It’s not a hard climb, but a steady one.” He eyed the canvas litter that Pete was carrying. “I’m not sure there’s a body there. I just saw hand bones sticking out of the dirt.”

  “How’d you find it?” Hawkins asked.

  Josh told them how the grave had been disturbed by the falling rocks. “I couldn’t telling much just by looking.”

  When they reached the spot in the trail where Willard had his heart attack, Josh was surprised when Hawkins stopped and said, “I remember that call. Poor guy. That chunk of marble did him in. I see it’s still here.”

  “Nice piece of stone,” the younger man, Pete, remarked.

  “Apparently Willard made a trip to Marble, Colorado, and brought back several pieces,” Josh explained. “In addition to this one, there were two left in his car.”

  “What do you suppose he was going to do with it?” Hawkins mused as he stooped down and turned the marble square over. “Well, I’ll be. Would you look at that?”

  Roughly carved into that side of the slab were the words, Rest In Peace.

  “A tombstone,” the young helper said with a short laugh. “Never heard of a guy dying carrying his own tombstone.”

  A bone-deep chill crept up Josh’s spine as he stared at the inscription. Why had Willard been purposefully carrying the tombstone up the mountainside? For his own grave? Or to mark one that already ex
isted? Had he killed someone and buried the victim under that rock ledge?

  “Well now, that’s very interesting,” Hawkins said, straightening up. “This may turn out to be more than just a recovery of ancient bones.” He eyed Josh. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Josh answered evasively. He certainly wasn’t going to express his suspicions to the coroner that Stacy’s uncle might be responsible for killing and burying someone. It would be just like Willard’s craziness to want to mark the deed with a tombstone, Josh thought with a sickening dip in his stomach.

  Hawkins’ small black eyes were bright, like a hunter on the trail of prey, as he said, “I guess we’ll find some answers soon enough.”

  They climbed the rest of the way in silence. Josh was surprised at the great physical condition of both men. Obviously they spent time outside a forensics laboratory, either hiking these mountains or working out in a gym.

  When they reached the grave site, some of the things that Hawkins and Pete began to do didn’t make sense to Josh. They laid out their tools and equipment with an unhurried ease that gnawed at Josh’s nerves. They seemed to be oblivious to the shattering consequences that this discovery might entail.

  He forced himself to stand by and say nothing as they carefully looked over the adjoining terrain, as if making sure that there wasn’t anything of interest outside the grave.

  Ignoring the shovel and rake to uncover the grave, the two men knelt down beside the exposed bones and began moving the soil away with their gloved hands.

  Hawkins seemed to enjoy talking shop as they scooped dirt away from the suspected perimeter of the grave, making a kind of trough for them to kneel in. It was all Josh could do to contain his impatience.

  “You can tell a lot of things from bones,” Hawkins said casually, glancing up at Josh now and again to make sure he had a captive audience as the remains buried there began to be revealed. “Things like how long ago death occurred, the person’s sex, age, height and cause of death.”