“Am I still a stranger?” she asked the bravest of the herd, who kept pushing his face up for attention. “I hope not for long. Maybe this spring I’ll get to spend more time with you.” She gave the big gray male a farewell pat. “But right now, I’ve gotta go, before that road ices over.”
As she turned to leave, Kelly noticed a red metal can on a nearby shelf and a kerosene lantern hanging from a nail on the adjacent post. Maybe it was a squatter, like Burt suggested, she thought as she closed the barn door and headed toward the driveway. After all, the place had been vacant since last summer. Jennifer had told her about people trying to sneak into empty canyon homes, taking up residence when they could get away with it. Maybe they started a fire to keep warm.
Trudging back to the canyon road, Kelly let all those conflicting thoughts bounce around inside her head while she trekked through the snow. Jennifer’s suspicions, Burt’s rationalizations, the bad feeling inside her gut. Was the truth somewhere in the middle? Reaching the road at last, Kelly unlocked her car and jumped inside, revving the engine as soon as she turned the key.
Come on, warm up, she urged the heater. Shivering, Kelly pulled onto the road and aimed her car down the canyon. Back home to Fort Connor. Home to hot coffee. She shook her travel mug. Empty. Rats. She could really use some coffee now. Even hot chocolate would do as long as it was hot.
Kelly briefly wondered again if she was cut out to live up here in the canyon. It was definitely colder. A helluva lot snowier, too, she thought as she steered around a gentle curve, the road ahead angling down. What would it be like to drive these icy roads all winter? she wondered. Would she be able to come into town every day? Would she want to?
The car picked up speed. What if she was snowbound up here with a blizzard? Would she go nuts with only Carl to keep her company? No friends across the way like it was now. Maybe she could keep the cottage and stay in town during the winter. Maybe she’d only go up to the canyon on the weekends. No, that wouldn’t work. Who’d feed the animals?
Her car swerved around a curve in the road, and Kelly jerked the wheel to steady it, braking to slow down. But the car didn’t slow. It kept picking up speed as the canyon road wound down the mountain. Kelly pushed hard on the brake this time. Nothing. The car kept picking up speed, faster.
What was wrong with her brakes? Kelly pumped the brakes now, again and again, but nothing happened. Her car kept picking up speed as the canyon road descended. A truck suddenly appeared in the opposite lane, and Kelly fought the wheel to avoid him and keep from heading into the ravine alongside, where trees and boulders dropped off into deep crevasses.
Oh-my-God! She panicked. Her brakes were gone, and she was going over sixty miles an hour! She had to do something fast. She grabbed the gearshift and jammed it into low gear. There was a sharp screech of metal, and the car slowed. But it didn’t stop. Down, down, down, it hurtled.
Steering around a curve, Kelly’s heart sank. Up ahead was the steepest decline of all—twisting, turning, winding curves. Her car started picking up speed again, faster and faster.
She’d never make it down the canyon. She’d crash and die. Unless . . . unless she crashed before she got to the bottom. Before the car picked up any more speed. She’d be going over ninety miles an hour by the time she reached bottom. She wouldn’t have a chance.
Spotting the boulders up ahead around the curve, Kelly froze for an instant. Good God. Could she make it around that curve? If she didn’t, the boulders would kill her for sure!
Suddenly she saw them. Thick bushes along the side of the road. Quick, over there! said the little voice in her head. Now! Crash now!
Kelly listened and jerked the wheel to the right, aiming straight for the bushes.
It happened in a flash. Kelly was in the brambles, then— wham! All of a sudden she was swallowed by a huge white marshmallow. And then she went to sleep.
“Oh, my God, Kelly! What happened?” Megan cried as she peeked around the white curtain dividing the hospital emergency exam rooms.
Kelly looked at her friend’s horrified expression. Megan’s face was almost as white as the curtain. Even though it hurt to make the gesture, Kelly beckoned Megan inside the cubicle to join the rest of her friends who circled her examining table bedside. “It’s okay, Megan. My brakes failed coming down the canyon. Thank God for air bags.”
“She’s lying, Megan,” Jennifer retorted from the corner. “She has a concussion and a broken ankle.”
“She’s damn lucky to be alive,” Steve said, standing beside Kelly. “Lots of people have crashed on that canyon road and died.”
Kelly had to agree. She was lucky. Every muscle in her body ached, her head felt like it was about to explode, and her left ankle, well . . . she hadn’t felt anything that painful since she’d slid into third base at college and collided with the baseman, cracking three ribs.
“Yeah, well, I thought I’d be one of them. That’s why I headed for the trees halfway down.” The side of her head throbbed again. Damn. Even talking hurt.
“That’s probably what saved you,” said the orthopedic resident who stood at the foot of the narrow table, carefully wrapping plaster-soaked gauze strips around Kelly’s ankle.
Kelly stared at her throbbing left ankle. It was fat and getting fatter as the stocky young man kept wrapping the strips. Damn. A cast. She’d never had a cast. Not in all her years of sports and athletic injuries. Never until now. Double damn. She’d be clunking around for weeks. She tried to scowl at the injury, but that made her head hurt even more.
A fair trade for your life, don’t you think? the little voice inside reminded her. Ohhhh, yeah, she admitted to herself, giving silent thanks once again.
Megan ventured into the small enclosure, which was filled already. “I bet your car is—”
“Totaled, yes,” Burt interrupted from where he stood beside Jennifer, frowning. Worried frowning, too. Kelly recognized that expression and felt guilty at being the cause of it.
She glanced around the circle of concerned friends’ faces. Not a smile to be seen. Steve, Jennifer, Burt, Megan, even outspoken Lisa, who normally would be all over Kelly, fussing, sat silently chewing her lip.
“It’s been towed to the dealership,” Steve added. “Since it’s Saturday night, they probably won’t be able to look at it until Monday. But I figure it’s gotta be a total loss, Kelly. I mean, the ER guys told me you crashed right through the bushes and into the tree along the ravine.” He shook his head. “Damn.”
“Okay, I think we’re just about done here,” the doctor announced, wrapping the last strip around Kelly’s ankle. Her huge ankle. “I’ll go write up a prescription for some painkillers. You’re going to need them when the anesthetic wears off for this foot.”
“Thanks, doc, but it’s my head that’s killing me right now,” she said, rubbing her left temple.
“Well, these will help your head, too,” he said, scooting back the metal stool as he rose. “Your head is going to pound for a while yet. Oh, and let me grab some crutches from supply while I’m at it.”
Kelly flinched, even though it hurt like the devil. “Not crutches. . . .”
Lisa, who hadn’t spoken a word since getting there, leaped to her feet and pointed at Kelly. “Not another word!” she ordered, her face a thundercloud. “If I see you without those crutches, I swear to God, I’ll beat you with them myself!”
Kelly had to laugh, even though it hurt so much tears came to her eyes. All her friends were laughing.
“Uhhh, I don’t think that’s the right response, Lisa, but you made your point,” Steve said.
“Looks like you’re going to have lots of help during your recovery,” the young doctor said with a twinkle in his eye. “The pain will let up after a few days when the swelling starts to go down. But your right ankle looks sprained as well. So you won’t be getting around much for a while. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, before disappearing around the curtain.
“I can stay with yo
u for the next few nights, Kelly,” Megan offered. “I don’t want you to be alone. And you’re gonna be pretty uncomfortable.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kelly countered. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
Lisa fixed Kelly with her professional physical therapist’s expression. “You’ve never had a broken ankle, have you? Well, I have, and it hurts like hell the first couple of days. Face it, you’re going to need our help.”
Now she was beginning to feel like an invalid, and Kelly didn’t like it, not one little bit. “I’ll be okay, really,” she demurred.
Lisa arched a brow. “Wait’ll you try to stand up.”
Kelly glanced about the circle of friends and saw them all nod in silent agreement. Well, damn. She guessed she really was an invalid. A temporary invalid, at least.
Just then, the young doctor slipped around the curtain again, holding a slip of paper in one hand and crutches in the other. Kelly tried not to scowl. It hurt too much.
Twelve
“Sit down here, Kelly. We’ve fixed an extra chair with a pillow for your leg,” Mimi said, gesturing toward the knitting table.
Kelly wanted to respond, but it was all she could do to make her way through the adjoining yarn room without yelping in pain. After two days, her broken left ankle had finally stopped throbbing and the pain had diminished to a dull ache. But her severely bruised and nearly sprained right ankle was supporting all her weight and sent spasms of pain shooting up her leg in protest.
“Thanks, Mimi,” Kelly managed after she’d finally clumped her way around various yarn tables and bins. She sank into the proffered chair, grateful to be off her crutches.
Who would have thought the journey from her cottage to the shop would be so exhausting? Kelly was breathless with exertion, which shocked her. She was an athlete, for Pete’s sake. She thought her stamina would make recuperation a breeze. So far, it had been an ordeal. Simply getting to and from the bathroom was a major project. Everywhere she went, she clumped around and bumped into things, and she hurt like hell. When would it stop?
“Here, you go, Kelly,” Megan said, plopping Kelly’s knitting bag and laptop on the table. “I know you want to do some client work, but my advice would be to take it easy. Stick to the knitting, okay?”
Boy, she must really have turned into an invalid. She couldn’t even carry her knitting bag. “Thanks, Megan. Go back home and get to work. You’ve nursemaided me long enough.”
Megan grinned. “Well, I leave you in good hands. Mimi will mother you, and Lisa will kick your butt if you don’t do what she says. That’s the perfect combination. I’ll be back later in the afternoon and take you home. I saw a pizza in your freezer.”
Kelly waved goodbye, just in time to see one of the café’s waitresses place a mug of Eduardo’s coffee in front of her. “You’re a lifesaver, Julie, thanks.”
“Anytime, Kelly. I’ll keep refilling it, compliments of Pete.”
Everyone was babying her. She couldn’t do anything for herself. She needed help getting dressed, getting around, going up and down steps—everything. Showering would have been funny—complete with her left foot wrapped in a plastic bag—if it hadn’t been so frustrating.
“Wow, free coffee. I should break something more often,” she said, mustering a wry smile as she took a sip.
“Now you settle in with your scarf, and I’ll keep checking on you,” Mimi said, patting Kelly on the shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Connie returned from her winter vacation yesterday. She had a fantastic trip and says she’s still operating on a Caribbean rhythm. So don’t be surprised if she starts to samba while she’s working around the shop.”
Samba, huh? I’d be happy to walk straight, Kelly thought as she retrieved the raspberry and pink yarn from her bag. Now that she was incapacitated, she could finally finish the scarf. At least she’d have something to show for her recuperation.
Kelly picked up the needles and started the knit stitch. After several moments of focused attention, Kelly relaxed into a comfortable knitting rhythm. She noticed the knitting also took her concentration off her aching ankle.
Her thoughts must have been on rhythm, because Connie sashayed into the main room then, singing some Spanish tune and swinging her hips, her arms filled with balls of yarn. Kelly grinned. She didn’t know if it was a samba or not, but Connie had made her laugh. Always a good thing.
“Hey, Connie, I hear you had a great time in the Caribbean. It sure looks like it.”
“Oh, boy, did I,” Connie said while refilling yarn bins with the colorful bundles. She half-danced her way around the table until she glimpsed Kelly’s casted foot resting on the chair. “Oh, Kelly, I’m so sorry you had an accident. That must have been frightening. Driving down the canyon with no brakes.”
“Crashing down is more like it,” Kelly quipped. “But I’m lucky to come out of it alive.”
Connie pulled out a chair beside Kelly’s resting leg. “I swear, I’m afraid to go away again. I come back and find out horrible things have happened.” A look of concern shadowed her face. “Like poor Tracy. How could someone kill her? She was such a quiet, friendly girl. It’s simply incomprehensible. And to think, I was probably the last person to see her alive.”
“Were you here that night, Connie? How late did you stay?” Kelly asked, curiosity stopping her stitches.
“Probably until around six. I was finishing up lots of stuff because my husband and I were leaving on vacation first thing Saturday morning. Tracy arrived earlier, as she had each afternoon that week, and started working on dyeing her fibers.” Connie bit her lip. “She was trying so hard to match that Aztec Blue she liked. Poor thing. I remember she came upstairs to ask me some questions before I left. She was so conscientious.”
Kelly let her knitting drop to her lap. “Connie, do you remember anything else from that evening before you left? Did anyone come to see Tracy? Did she talk about anyone? Did she get a phone call?”
Connie stared at the bookshelves, her brows worrying each other. “Now that you mention it, I do remember a phone call. Her cell phone started wiggling and buzzing on the counter and playing this funny circus music. I started laughing.”
Kelly sat up straighter, her injured extremities forgotten. She’d wondered if Tracy had a cell phone, but Burt had never mentioned one. Kelly had often thought it strange that a college student wouldn’t have a cell phone. Why hadn’t Burt said anything?
“Did she say who called?”
Connie smiled maternally. “I figured it was her boyfriend, because she was all flushed while she was talking. I even teased her about it. She must have been going to meet him because I heard her say she’d see him ’later.’ ” Connie’s smile disappeared. “Poor thing. She never got there. Those vicious animals killed her first.”
Kelly stared at Connie, her thoughts picking up speed. So, Tracy did have a boyfriend. A boyfriend she planned to see later that evening. Her cell phone would have a record of the call.
“Is Burt coming in today, Connie? You need to tell him about Tracy’s phone conversation. It may be important.”
Connie shrugged. “Sure, if you think Burt would be interested.”
“Interested in what?” Burt’s voice asked as he entered the room. “Good to see you back in the shop, Kelly. A little worse for wear, maybe.” He leaned on a yarn bin and winked at her.
“Hey, Burt, Connie was with Tracy that Friday night in the shop. She says Tracy got a phone call from her boyfriend on her cell phone.” Kelly emphasized the words.
Burt arched a brow at Connie. “I was going to say ‘Welcome back, Connie,’ but I guess Kelly has whizzed right past greetings. Were you here that night with Tracy?”
“Until at least six or so. Then I had to go home and pack. I’m not sure if I know anything that’s important.”
“How come you never mentioned the cell phone, Burt? The cops could track the boyfriend’s phone, find out who he is, find out—”
“I never mentioned it beca
use they never found a cell phone. They didn’t know if she had one or not. Dan said they looked all over the shop and downstairs in the basement just in case. Those guys probably grabbed it when they were trashing the shop. Tracy’s backpack was found tossed behind the counter, and her wallet was empty.”
“Damn,” Kelly said softly, unable to hide her disappointment. The tantalizing clue had been so close, only to disappear.
“Connie, why don’t you come into Pete’s with me and get some coffee, so we can talk,” Burt suggested. “I’ll tell Mimi you’re busy for a few minutes.” Glancing at Kelly, he added, “You’ll be glad to know the department is working its way through that north side bunch. Some of those guys are talking. Others aren’t saying much. They’re scared. One of the head guys is a pretty bad customer. He’s already done time for assault.”
That got Kelly’s attention. “Whoa, that’s scary, Burt.”
“You’re right. I’ll keep you posted,” he said as he and Connie left.
Picking up the half-finished scarf where she left off, Kelly let Connie’s comments sift through her head. That call had to be from Tracy’s mysterious no-name boyfriend. Why else would she have been blushing? And Tracy planned to meet him later . . . or . . . maybe he came over to the shop instead. Was that why Tracy left the front door unlocked? It had to be.
Kelly’s heart beat faster now than when she’d clumped her way across the driveway earlier. If only she could hop out of this chair and race into the café and tell Burt what she was thinking. She glanced around the shop, but no one was around. Rats. What she needed right now was a pair of legs.
The sound of the front bell’s jingle was followed by Lisa’s swift steps into the room. “Ahhhh, good girl, Kelly. I see you made it across the driveway, and you’re working on your scarf, too. Excellent,” Lisa rattled off as she dropped her things on the other side of the table.
Dyer Consequences Page 11
