Ursula looked down before meeting his eyes. “You’re right. I’ll apologize.” To Chris, she asked, “So, what’s the deal with this father of yours? Why did you run away from home?”
Chris gave her the same story he’d given Sam and Dana. “So nobody knows for sure what went on in that bar the night it burned down, but considering my father’s reaction to my finding my birth certificate, I have to assume the worst.” He shot a glance at Sam. “That’s why I’m having trouble accepting any inheritance from him. I don’t believe it’s his money to leave. It should be Sam’s, but he won’t take it.”
Ursula tapped her finger on her chin. “What if you could find a witness? Would it matter?”
“Yes, it would matter.” Chris stood up straighter. “What witness?”
“Give me a day or two. I’ll let you know if she actually saw anything.”
“Who?” Sam demanded.
Ursula looked away. “If she’s willing to talk, I’ll set up a meeting once you’re out of the hospital. In the meantime, I have a humble pie to bake. Excuse me.”
* * *
AFTER A HOT SHOWER, Dana felt slightly better. According to the nurse she talked to on the phone, Sam was out of surgery and recovering. Dana longed to see him for herself, but maybe Ursula was right. Maybe it was better if she wasn’t there, bothering Sam.
Maybe when it came to Sam’s family, the Raynotts were some sort of curse. She still didn’t believe her father could be a murderer or a thief, but she couldn’t dispute the fact that Sam had spent his childhood in poverty while her father’s business flourished.
The sound of a key rattled the front door. Finally, Chris had arrived. The door opened, and Ursula walked in.
Dana’s eyes opened wider. “Is Sam okay?”
“He’ll be fine. The surgery went well, and the antibiotics are working. The doctor says he’ll probably keep him through tomorrow and let him come home the next day. Chris is with him now.”
“Good.”
Ursula gave a sheepish smile. “In fact, Sam was feeling well enough to make it clear he didn’t appreciate me jumping to conclusions. He told us you got him to the plane and probably saved his life. You left out that little detail.”
Dana shrugged. “It was still my fault he got hurt.”
“He says it isn’t.” When Dana started to protest, Ursula cut her off. “I tend to believe what Sam says. He’s not in the habit of lying.”
“No.” Dana hadn’t known Sam long, but she would bet her last dollar on his always being honest.
“So, I came to apologize, and to thank you. Sam means the world to me, and you kept him safe.”
Dana grimaced. He wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t goofed up in the first place. “Anyone would have done the same thing.”
“I doubt that. Sam thinks you’re extraordinary, and I tend to agree. When did you learn to oar a boat?”
“This morning.”
The lines around Ursula’s eyes crinkled. “You must be incredibly sore.”
Dana rolled her shoulders. “Like you would not believe.”
“Did you take anything yet?”
“No. I just got out of the shower.”
Ursula walked to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of aspirin from the cabinet. “Showers are fine, but you need a good soak. Here, take two of these, then go to Sam’s bathroom and get into the whirlpool for a while. It will help you sleep. I’ll be in the spare room downstairs. I promised Sam I’d get you to the hospital in the morning.”
“Sam wants me there?”
“Oh, yes. Sam wants you there.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, Dana woke to the scent of cinnamon rolls. Ursula must have risen at the crack of dawn. Well, maybe not quite that early since sunrise happened at about four, but close.
The soak had done wonders for her muscles, although she was going to be stiff for a few days. She’d stayed in the whirlpool until her fingers pruned up, reluctant to leave the luxurious swirling water and the comforting scent of Sam’s bodywash. She couldn’t wait to see him, to make sure he was really okay. She wondered what time visiting hours started at the hospital. Or did they have visiting hours anymore?
She drifted to the kitchen, where Ursula was frosting the rolls with a white icing. Cream cheese, she guessed.
“Those smell incredible.”
“I make them at the inn when I think someone might be tempted to sleep in too long. It usually gets everyone out of bed.”
Dana laughed and settled on a barstool. “Well, it worked with me. Can we sneak one into the hospital for Sam?”
“I believe so. I made enough to bribe the nurses.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a few minutes later Chris appeared, his curly hair in a wild tangle. “Cinnamon rolls? No fair. I was trying to sleep.”
He walked over and wrapped his arms around Dana’s shoulders. “Hey, short stuff. I hear you did some pretty fancy boating out there.”
She shrugged. “I doubt it was pretty, but it got us there.”
“I thought you were on your way home to Kansas.”
“Sam offered to let me tag along on his float trip, and I couldn’t resist. I may never be in Alaska again, after all.”
“Right.” He moved around the bar and kissed Ursula’s cheek. “Good morning, Auntie.” He stuck a finger into the icing she was spreading and she slapped his hand.
“Let me finish. You’re not going to starve to death in the next five minutes. Go pour your sister a cup of coffee and sit.”
Dana envied the easy way they teased each other. She didn’t have that kind of relationship with anyone, not since Chris left home. A tear formed in her eye and she blinked it away impatiently. Chris was right here, handing her a cup, and instead of enjoying his company, she was feeling resentful of all the time they’d missed. Ridiculous.
She smiled her thanks. “What time did you get home last night?”
“The nurse ran me out about midnight or one. She said my snoring was disturbing the patient.”
“When can I see Sam this morning?”
“As soon as you can convince Ursula to take you. I’m going to grab a little more sleep.”
“You’re not going back to work?”
“Not yet. I want to wait until Sam comes home.” He turned to Ursula. “Have you done any more checking with that person you mentioned?”
“I’ve hardly had a chance yet.” Ursula set a plate with a gooey roll in front of each of them. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”
“What are we talking about?” Dana asked.
Chris and Ursula exchanged glances before Ursula explained to Dana, “Chris told me about the bar in Fairbanks that burned.”
Dana broke off a piece of cinnamon roll, but set it on her plate without eating it. “I admit it looks bad, but you didn’t know my father. He wasn’t an affectionate person, that’s true, however this... I can’t believe he would do something like this.”
Chris shook his head. “You don’t want to believe it.”
Ursula frowned. “Maybe it’s better if we never know.”
“No.” Chris’s voice was firm. “It’s always better to know the truth.”
Ursula raised her eyebrows. “This from the man who hid his identity for so many years?”
“And see how it bit me in the butt? Sam’s still irked. If you can find out something, I want to hear it.”
“What can she find out?” Dana asked.
“She says she might know of a witness who was at the bar the night it burned.”
Dana stared at Ursula. Maybe this witness could vindicate her father. But... “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“It’s complicated. I’m not sure she saw anything. If I
can reach her, I’ll find out today.”
* * *
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the hospital, Sam was sitting up in bed. A green cast covered his left arm, and an IV line ran to his right elbow. He was using the tines of his fork to pick at something unnaturally yellow on his plate.
“More powdered eggs?” Dana smirked.
The smile that lit his face when he saw her convinced her he was well on the road to recovery. “They’re not as good as yours.”
“Then it’s a good thing Ursula sent this.” Dana opened her bag and pulled out a plastic-wrapped cinnamon roll.
“Oh, man. I love these things.” Sam broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm. Where is Ursula?”
“At the nurses’ station, giving them rolls and checking up on you. You look a whole lot better than you did yesterday.”
“I feel a whole lot better, too. The doctor says I can go home tomorrow.”
“Great.” Which probably meant it was about time for her to go home, too. But she didn’t want to think about that yet. Not until Sam was completely out of danger.
“Good morning.” Ursula bustled into the room, patted Sam’s cheek and slid a hand to his forehead. “No fever.”
He grinned. “Yeah, the numbers on the monitor there could have told you that.”
“I prefer the hands-on method.” She glanced down. “Eat your roll.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sam stuffed a bite into his mouth.
Ursula turned to Dana. “I need to run an errand. Will you be okay here for a while?”
“Absolutely. Anything I can help you with?”
Ursula shook her head. “No. I just need to look up an old friend. Call me if you need me.” A little line formed between Sam’s eyebrows as he watched her go.
This must have something to do with the conversation this morning about a possible witness, and Dana guessed from his expression Sam knew it, too. “Chris says Ursula might know someone who has information about the bar fire.”
“That’s what she said.”
“I wonder why she didn’t mention it when the subject first came up.”
“I suspect she’s protecting someone.”
“Who?”
Sam shrugged, more as in he didn’t want to answer than he didn’t know.
“Ursula never lived in Fairbanks, right? How would she happen to know someone with that sort of information? The odds of her randomly meeting someone who witnessed what happened with your father have to be—”
“Astronomical.” Sam nodded. “Exactly.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, it took Sam a ridiculously long time to put on the fresh clothes Dana had brought. It had taken him twenty minutes just to get the T-shirt over both his cast and his head. Maybe a button-up shirt would have been better, assuming he could manage buttons with one hand. But eventually he was dressed, he had prescriptions and instructions from the doctor and Ursula had gone downstairs to pull the car around while Dana waited to accompany him out.
The only thing delaying them was Sam’s reluctance to follow hospital procedure. After all, it was his arm that had been broken, not his legs. He could walk. But the nurse was having none of it.
“Get in the wheelchair or get back into bed. Those are your choices.” She obviously wasn’t backing down. Dana grinned as Sam yielded to the inevitable and settled into the chair. He felt like an idiot being wheeled around, but if that’s what it took to get out of this place, he could handle it.
Dana walked beside him on the way to the elevator and down to the lobby. Ursula’s car was waiting outside the front doors. Before the nurse could embarrass him further, Sam got up from the chair and climbed into the passenger seat. Dana settled into the seat behind him.
Ursula pulled the car onto the street and stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. She gave him an odd look before she spoke. “Looking forward to going home?”
“Sure am.” He was especially looking forward to a night in his own bed, with nothing beeping at him and nobody dropping by to poke him every few hours.
“Do you want to go straight home or are you up to a little visit with someone who might have some answers for you?”
Sam paused before replying, studying Ursula’s face. She didn’t meet his eyes. “Who are we visiting?”
“You’ll see.”
It had to be her. Did he really want to do this now? Definitely not. But she was the only one with the information they needed. “How long have you known where she is?”
In the back seat, Dana shifted and leaned forward. Sam was sure she wondered what they were talking about, but he wasn’t ready to go into long explanations.
Ursula looked straight ahead, not answering his question. The light changed to green. “Are we going or not?”
“I guess we’re going.” Sam closed his eyes and rested his head on the seat. To his relief, Dana held her tongue.
“Good. Chris is meeting us there.” So Sam really hadn’t had a choice. As usual, Ursula thought she knew what was best for him. And she was probably right. She drove toward the tall buildings of downtown. “She called me about a year ago. She’d seen one of the flyers for the inn and recognized my picture. She wanted to know how you were.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.” Ursula parked at the curb in front of a medium-sized hotel. It had obviously seen better days, but looked to be in good repair.
Sam frowned out the window. “This is that place for homeless alcoholics who won’t give up drinking.”
“Yes.” Ursula sighed. “But some of them have reduced their drinking now that they have a place to live.”
“Some of them?”
Ursula put her hand on his. “I don’t know, Sam. But I talked to her on the phone a short while ago, and she sounded sober.”
A knock at the window startled him. Seeing Chris peering into the car, Sam rolled down the window.
“Is this the place?”
Sam shrugged. “Apparently.”
“So, you ready?”
Sam looked at Ursula and she nodded. Then he twisted in his seat to catch Dana’s eye. She’d been protecting the memory of her father all along, refusing to believe the worst about him. Chris, on the other hand, refused to believe in his innocence. If Chris was right, what would that do to Dana, to her image of her father? Sam didn’t want her hurt. “What do you think? It all happened a long time ago. Does it really matter now?”
There was fear in those eyes of hers, but also determination. She nodded. “Let’s see if we can get to the truth.”
“Okay.”
They all climbed out of the car and followed Ursula inside and up the stairs to a unit at the end of the hall on the second floor. Ursula knocked. A moment later, the door opened a crack and familiar blue eyes peered at them. Her face had grown haggard, aged beyond her years. She seemed shorter, but then Sam was a foot taller than the last time he saw her. Her posture drooped, and her shoulder-length hair was the texture and color of straw with gray-streaked roots showing at the part. Ursula gave an encouraging smile and she straightened a little.
She looked past Ursula’s shoulder and her eyes found his. She drew in a breath. “You look just like your father.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Of course, thanks to Chris’s photo, he knew she was right, but she’d never even shown him a picture of his father. At his icy tone, her shoulders sagged. Well, what did she expect from him?
“Come in. Ursula says you need some answers, and heaven knows you deserve them. I haven’t given you much of anything else.”
They followed her into a small apartment, obviously converted from two hotel rooms. This room contained a tiny kitchen at one end. The rest of the room held a small table with four chairs, a sofa, a coffee tab
le and a low bookshelf with a television on top. Through an open doorway, Sam glimpsed a double bed, carelessly made up.
She was staring at his cast. “Ursula said you got hurt in a rafting accident. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Uh—” She looked helplessly at the group and at the sofa. Chris grabbed chairs from the dining table and set them around the coffee table. The woman turned toward Dana. “Hello. I’m Ruth.”
“Dana R—”
Sam broke in. “These are my friends Dana and Chris.” He raised his chin a fraction and met Dana’s eyes. “Ruth is my mother.”
He saw the momentary shock before she hid it behind a friendly smile. Dana offered her hand. “Hello.” Ruth’s hand shook as she reached out to shake Dana’s.
Ruth shook hands with Chris, too. “Please, sit down. Can I offer you something to drink?” At Sam’s frown, she elaborated. “A glass of water?”
“I’d like one.” Ursula gave her a smile. “Thank you.”
Ruth filled two glasses with tap water and handed one to Ursula. Her gaze traveled to the others. “Anyone else?”
“We’re fine, thank you.” Sam sat stiffly in his chair. He wasn’t here for a reunion, just the facts as she knew them. Once they had the information, they could go. “We won’t take up much of your time.”
“All right.” She sat beside Ursula on the sofa across from him and set her glass on the scarred coffee table. “What do you need to know?”
“Is it true you were a witness to what happened the night my father died?”
“I...” Her breath came faster and her eyes darted around the room. “I was...”
Dana sat perfectly still, almost blending into the background. Chris seemed to be trying to do the same. Ruth looked at them quickly, then darted a glance at Sam and winced as though his gaze burned her.
Ursula leaned toward her and offered a comforting smile. “Let’s start at the beginning.” Her voice was soothing. “How did you meet Roy?”
Ruth settled and stared past Ursula at the wall, where a dark square in the paint indicated a picture had once hung. “My father was a preacher in a little church at the end of a dead-end road in Fairbanks.” She offered a wry smile. “He wasn’t a very successful preacher. The congregation was tiny. Papa said it was because we were so far out nobody could find us. He did odd jobs to make ends meet, and I worked at the fountain in a drugstore in town. Anyway, one day we saw some activity at an old building about a half mile up the road. Papa asked around and found out a couple of men were fixing it up to make it into a bar. He was livid. I swear, the man turned purple, he was so mad.”
The Alaskan Catch Page 18
