by Alice Sharpe
His gaze turned stormy. “I thought a lot about this moment, too, Cassie, and in my dreams you weren’t wanted for murder while holding our unborn child hostage to my inability to react exactly how you rehearsed it.”
She started to protest and stopped. Is that what she was doing? Her head began to pound.
“Face it. You’ve gotten yourself into a real mess. You can’t stay here.”
He was right. That was the crux of the problem. Not the baby, not their marriage or their future, but the murder of an old woman and all the events that came afterward.
“Why would Banner say you took jewelry if you didn’t?” Cody added. “He must have known you’d contradict him.”
“He asked to search my suitcase before I left. I had nothing to hide, so I let him.”
“Then the jewelry was actually in your possession.”
“Exactly. There were several pieces stitched into the lining. When he found it, I panicked. The cab was right there and I just couldn’t think further ahead than getting away. I’d seen this apartment for rent during my walks and I knew it would be safe here, so I had the cab drop me at the bus station and then took a city bus back. I’d never felt like a fugitive before.”
“So someone planted the jewelry.”
“Of course. Maybe if I hadn’t bolted…oh, I don’t know. Maybe if I go back to the mansion now and talk to Robert, Mrs. Priestly’s grandson, or Donna, his sister, make them understand, they could get their father to back down. I don’t want Mrs. Priestly’s money, I’ll tell them that. I was going to talk to them this morning when I walked over there, but there were so many people—I’d forgotten about the wake.”
Cody shook his head. “Emerson Banner is aching to sic the police on you. You can’t go back there.”
She pressed her temples with her fingers. “Could you just stop telling me what I can and can’t do?”
He swore under his breath and regarded her from beneath the brim of his hat. “One last time. Come home.”
She shook her head. “Not like this.”
He stared hard at her a moment, then closed his eyes. In that moment he was so vulnerable her heart ached for him. When his eyes flickered open again, she saw he’d summoned the Westin resolve she knew so well.
“I came here ready to give you a divorce if that’s what you wanted,” he said, his gaze straying down to her belly. “It’s pretty obvious, even to me, that you don’t want to be part of my life anymore.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” she said. “I just need to finish this alone. Maybe you could return to Wyoming and let me think and maybe you could figure out how you feel about everything, too.”
“I know how I feel. What if they arrest you?”
“You’ll be my one phone call.”
Again he stared at her. She wished he would hug her and yet hoped he wouldn’t. Did he know he was one touch away from winning?
“We’ll do it your way,” he said. “Do you need money?”
“No. Mrs. Priestly paid me in cash and I hardly ever spent a dime. I’m fine for now.”
“But if the baby comes, a hospital—”
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about…us.”
He stepped close and touched her cheek. When his lips brushed her forehead, she almost crumbled.
But she didn’t.
“Don’t disappear again.”
“If I decide to slink away in the night it will be from this place and these people, not from you, I promise.” Her breath caught as his fingers drifted away from her face.
“Goodbye, Cassie.”
And then he was gone.
She moved to the window and parted the drapes a little, watching him walk down the sidewalk. It didn’t take too much imagination to picture herself beside him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders…
Go after him.
No. She couldn’t.
But she wanted to.
And yet she felt pretty certain he felt relief that she didn’t.
As she turned from the window, she spied the blue scarf. She’d bought it for herself, surprised real silk had found its way into a thrift store. Now it symbolized all the months of loneliness and indecision she’d suffered, and blue seemed an appropriate color.
She needed a walk. Dare she go outside again?
Her hand was on the knob, she was ready to open the door, but in the end she could not face all that open space. Instead she twisted the old lock and, feeling about as big and ungainly as a house, sagged on the sofa.
Cody was gone. Had he said one positive thing about their baby? Had he mentioned love? She tried to remember, but the last half hour replayed like a bunch of jumbled words and impressions, and all she could really recall clearly was the fear of Emerson Banner and the touch of Cody’s lips on her skin.
Exhausted, she fell asleep before she could think it through.
WALKING AWAY from that apartment was the worst moment of Cody’s life.
He’d found her.
And lost her. Again.
And now, of course, there was a baby. His baby. He was going to be a father whether he was ready or not. Had she planned the pregnancy to present it as a done deal and then started a conversation he’d screwed up because he hadn’t known the script?
No, she wouldn’t trick him. Wasn’t her style.
Cars were leaving the Priestly house, and there were a lot of people milling about outside. He saw Emerson Banner and his wife standing on the porch, probably saying goodbyes. There was a lot he wanted to ask them, but the police car parked in front of the house kept him moving. He took a circuitous route back to his truck, got behind the wheel and made a U-turn to avoid passing the big Victorian house.
He checked out of the motel, grabbed a bite to eat and hit the road. As he racked up the miles he grew more and more uneasy. Not for a second did he think Cassie had a thing to do with Mrs. Priestly’s murder, but why did she say she could have done things differently? The murder sounded like a foiled robbery attempt, nothing else, so why did Cassie say the old lady had been worried for days? He’d been so caught up in trying to get Cassie back into his life that he’d neglected to ask some pretty basic questions.
His thoughts immediately circled back to their baby. How did he feel about becoming a father? Unprepared, that’s how. Three hours ago, he hadn’t even had a wife or at least one he was sure was alive…
The afternoon wore on, and he tried to comfort himself with the knowledge he’d be home soon. Cattle market was over. Despite a tumultuous year, they’d done well; Adam’s conversion to an organic herd was paying off. They’d been able to stow away an excellent store of hay and grain for the coming winter. Now there were several miles of fencing along the main drive that needed to be restrung before winter, but his brother Pierce was a whiz at that and for the first time in many, many years, he was once again ranching on the Open Sky. And then there were the upcoming weddings…
What kind of man leaves a woman he cares for in the situation Cassie was in? So what if she didn’t want his help? She’d claimed he couldn’t change. Was she right?
Christmas this year would include a baby—his baby. How could he be driving away?
He suddenly realized he’d slowed to about ten miles an hour on the twisting mountain road and pulled off to the side before he caused an accident. Cassie’s voice filled his head like one of those melodies that get lodged in your brain and you can’t get rid of.
He loved her. He had since the moment they met at a rodeo, of all places. He’d been competing in a bull-riding event and she’d been there with some guy she knew from school.
Cody had been attracted to her clear-eyed beauty at first, then to the strong streak of competence and spirit that ran through her personality like a vein of gold through a gold mine. He had no idea what she saw in him. He was a loner by nature and she was always in the middle of everything. He’d grown up in a male household with a missing mother; she’d grown up with a bitter single mother and a father w
ho ran out when she was a baby.
So maybe that was what they had in common—missing parents. But while he’d coped by closing himself off, she’d opened like a flower to accept everyone and everything into her heart. He’d asked her to marry him on their second date and she’d laughed at him, but he couldn’t help himself. After that, though, she’d asked him several times how he felt about children and he’d always said someday, meaning “someday a long time from now,” when he was ready, when he figured it out.
And maybe in the back of his mind he’d assumed she’d wait forever. Wasn’t what they had between them enough? Why add complications?
Now he wondered, was she right? Had he been putting her off because he was afraid—
Afraid? Since when was he afraid of anything?
He turned around. An hour later, figuring his out-of-state license plate made the truck stand out like a white star on a black stallion’s forehead, he pulled into the alley behind Cassie’s apartment. He’d been away for four hours—it was entirely possible she would be gone…
He’d just grabbed the stair handrail when something about the garage window to his right caught his attention. It was one of those multipaned affairs, and where before it had been intact, it now had a red rag stuffed through one of the openings. He detoured to take a closer look. Sure enough, the pane closest to the interior lock was broken.
He pulled on the cloth, and as he did so, the unmistakable stench of the fuel additive the gas company adds to warn a user of a leak assailed his nostrils. This was immediately followed by the bam-bam images of glass shards on the workbench below the window and then the sight of the heater against the wall, its fuel pipe unscrewed from the stove, a crescent wrench on the floor beneath it.
He took the stairs two at a time and grabbed the knob, prepared to fling his body into the wood panel if it was locked. It was. He easily kicked in the old, flimsy panel, then followed the sound of running water and the aroma of soap into the kitchen, where he found Cassie leaning awkwardly over the sink, using the detachable faucet spray to rinse out her long hair.
He grabbed her shoulders from behind and she screamed as she turned. She was still holding the spray and it hit him in the eyes.
“Cody! What are you doing?” she screeched, as he pulled on her hands.
“Come with me. Now!”
“Wait just a minute. You can’t—”
“There’s a gas leak,” he yelled, almost carrying her to the door. She grabbed her handbag in passing and went with him willingly then, and somehow the two of them flew down the stairs in record time.
They had just hit the ground running when Cody saw the flick of a light through the garage window and registered a faint, audible click. A millisecond later, the whole building exploded.
The blast propelled them forward. He did his best to be the one who hit the ground first to cushion Cassie’s fall. A second later, burning debris rained down around them, and he sheltered her as best he could. They’d landed behind a hedge, which also helped.
They sat up when it seemed the worst was over. The garage and the two apartments above it had been reduced to a burning pile of rubble. Neighbors began to come out of their houses.
Cody helped her to her feet and pulled her back when she started to leave the shelter of the hedge. Who knew if the bomber lay in wait? They stood there a moment, gasping at the destruction. Then he turned her to face him, pushing a tangle of wet hair away from her eyes. “Someone rigged that heater, Cassie. My God, someone tried to kill you.”
“I hear sirens,” she said. “We have to get out of here.”
“But the police—”
“No, Cody, I don’t want to talk to the police. All the questions I can’t answer, the jewelry and everything— Please, I can’t face that right now. I just want to get out of Cherrydell.”
He stared down at her, at war with himself. They should stay long enough to report what happened and face things head-on. But that wasn’t what she wanted…?.
“Let’s put our personal problems on hold for a while and make sure you survive to give birth,” he said. “Come back to the Open Sky with me. We’ll talk to Sheriff Inkwell. At least he knows you.”
Eyes wide, lips trembling, she nodded.
Chapter Four
Cassie couldn’t stop turning to gaze behind them at the traffic, looking for—well, a killer. “What kind of person tries to blow up a pregnant woman?” she asked, very aware of the quiver in her voice.
“The kind who smothers an old woman to death in her sleep,” Cody said, sparing her a quick glance.
Every mile that passed beneath the truck’s tires vibrated inside Cassie’s body. Even the baby seemed aware that things were changing fast; only the periodic rolls and gentle kicks reassured Cassie that the blast hadn’t harmed him or her.
Cody had driven them down the alley with his lights off, exiting by going through a driveway halfway down the block that connected the alley to the street. He’d driven slowly and methodically, while constantly checking the rearview mirror until he announced he hadn’t seen any sign someone was following them.
But Cassie couldn’t let the hunted feeling go. Someone at the Priestly house was targeting her and, by default, her baby. Would they be able to outrun that someone?
“Who do you think did this, Cassie?” Cody asked, as they hit a major road and he picked up speed.
She shot him a look, then turned in her seat to stare ahead. Evening had given way to night, and there was nothing to be gained by staring at a bunch of headlights. “How should I know?”
“Do you have any ideas? Any gut feelings?”
“Well, it has to be someone in that house or someone connected to them, right? My money is on Emerson Banner or maybe even Victoria. They both made no bones about how much they resented Mrs. Priestly hiring me. Still, trying to blow me up? Seems a little over the top, doesn’t it?”
“What about Banner’s son?”
“Robert? Did you meet him?”
“Kind of.”
She shrugged. “He was always nice to me, you know, pleasant. More importantly, he was great with his grandmother, and she just adored him. As for his sister, Donna, she’s nice, too. A little distracted right now. Her husband disappeared a day or so after Mrs. Priestly’s murder…”
“Wait. Isn’t that suspicious timing?” Cody interrupted.
“Yes. The police were questioning Donna about him. There’s no doubt Donna will inherit from her grandmother, so it seems possible Kevin might have been involved in Mrs. Priestly’s death. But why go after me? I’ve never even seen the man.”
“Face it,” he said. “It could be any of them.”
Cassie rubbed her arms to try to shake off the chill. Apparently misinterpreting the reason she was shaking, Cody handed her a sheepskin jacket he’d stashed behind the seat, and she shrugged it over her shoulders. It smelled like him, of the earth and aftershave, and it gripped her heart with its forgotten familiarity. “Do you think the same person who planted the jewelry on me tried to kill me?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m still trying to figure out why anyone would do that.”
“All I could figure was someone stuck it in there in the hopes I wouldn’t notice. Then they planned to follow me and swipe my suitcase and recover the jewelry. That way I’d be blamed and the thief would make off with a bundle. It was really nice stuff. I told Mrs. Priestly she should put most of it in a safe deposit box, but she liked to have her things nearby.”
He spared her a long look. “That’s not a bad guess. Or maybe someone wanted to discredit you so you couldn’t inherit.”
“It’s all about money, either way.”
“It usually is. But there’s another possibility. Maybe you know something about Mrs. Priestly’s murderer, maybe something you don’t even realize you know.”
She hadn’t thought of that. What if she did? Chills that could rival the Indianapolis 500 raced up her spine. She closed her eyes. She needed to ca
lm down, take deeper breaths, channel peaceful thoughts to her baby.
But she was scared and, truthfully, not just for her well-being. Every mile took her closer to the Open Sky Ranch and the life she’d abandoned.
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead, trying to think, but the headlights drilled through the darkness ahead, creating a tunnel effect. There was the feeling if they kept going long enough, she would wind up where she’d been born and raised, in Cheyenne, clear across the state, a child again…
Back to the small house on Elder Street. Back to her astringent mother and the one treasured photograph she had of the man who had fathered her but had run off right after her birth.
“No,” she said, and hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Cody cleared his throat.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. Her father was gone, her mother was dead, the house had probably been razed in favor of a shopping mall.
They entered Woodwind a few minutes later. Less than an hour to the ranch. She would arrive home pregnant and covered with soot, her hair a tangled mess, her clothes torn and dirty.
And everyone on the ranch would be there with a million questions…
“Cody, pull over. I want to get a room here in town for the night. I can’t go back like this. I can’t face your family yet.”
He’d pulled the truck over when she asked. She hadn’t missed his quick glance into the rearview mirror, and she assumed it was to see if anyone behind them had also pulled over. She’d checked the side mirror herself.
“There’s a convention in town,” Cody said, pointing at the Welcome Wyoming Square Dancers! sign on the No Vacancy hotel billboard in front of them.
“There must be a room somewhere. I need to clean up before, well—”
“Okay, I understand. There have been some changes at the ranch you need to know about, too.”
