Kitabı oku: «Boots And Bullets», sayfa 3

Chapter Five

“Do you like the bracelet?” Kate asked as she joined him at the glass case.

For a moment, Cyrus couldn’t find his voice. He told himself there had to be hundreds, thousands of bracelets just like this one. But even as he thought it, he could see that this wasn’t costume jewelry.

“It looks old,” he said as he stared down at the delicate string of tiny silver sleigh bells and tried to still his thundering heart. He saw that it had been made by a jeweler with an eye for detail. “It’s incredible workmanship.”

Kate beamed. “My grandfather was a silversmith. He made the bracelet for my mother’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Your mother?” he asked, his voice sounding strained to his ears.

When she didn’t say anything, he said carefully, “There’s no price on it.”

She laughed softly. “Because it’s priceless,” she said as she unlocked the case and gingerly lifted out the bracelet. The bells tinkled softly, sending a chill through him. He’d heard that sound before. A memory, unfocused and distant, tried to surface.

“The items in this case aren’t for sale. I just like them where I can see them,” Kate said, pulling him out of the memory. “It makes me feel closer to my mother. I can’t bring myself to wear the bracelet. I like that she was the last person to wear it. Silly, I know.”

“No,” he said, looking over at her and thinking he couldn’t be more enchanted by this woman.

“It’s really quite heavy,” she said, surprising him as she laid the bracelet in his palm.

The silver felt cold against his flesh and sent a memory of another palm clutching this bracelet ripping through his mind. He quickly handed it back to her and started to ask more about her mother when the front door jangled open and three women came in with a gust of cold air. Wind whirled golden leaves around the steps before the door closed again.

“Good afternoon,” Kate said with a smile as she greeted the shoppers. Cyrus watched her quickly put the bracelet back in the case and lock it. “Maybe I’ll see you later at the Fall Festival,” she whispered as she passed him to go offer the women a cup of hot spiced cider.

He stood for a moment, staring at the bracelet, before he noticed the women glancing back at him with obvious curiosity.

As he left his mind was awhirl.

The bracelet he’d seen in his dream was real. That had to mean that the woman wearing it had also been real—and murdered in the hospital nursery just like he’d known from the moment he’d awakened from his coma.

If the bracelet had belonged to Kate’s mother, then she had to be the woman he’d seen in the nursery. The same woman who’d switched the babies.

WHEN THEY’D BEEN interrupted by the three local women entering the shop, Kate had felt as if Cyrus had wanted to ask her something more.

As she gave the women a tour, she was again struck with that uneasy feeling she’d had when she’d met Cyrus at the old hospital. He hadn’t just stopped by her shop out of curiosity. He wanted something from her and she suspected it was more than a date.

As more women entered the shop, Kate replayed the moment when Cyrus had seen her mother’s bracelet in the glass case by the door. At first she’d thought he was taken with it. But now that she thought about it, he’d seemed shocked to see it, almost as if he’d recognized it.

Her heart began to beat a little faster. Was it possible he knew something about her mother?

Now she wished she didn’t have to work on the haunted house tonight. She would make sure she saw Cyrus Winchester again. Unfortunately, she had no idea where he was staying or how to reach him. She would have to make a point of catching up with him at the festival tonight—if he went.

Kate thought he would go and be watching for her. Apparently he was as anxious to see her as she was him.

Another group came through the door, then a handful of singles. Kate was busy showing them around her shop when she heard the bell over the front door ring again. She turned, half expecting to see Cyrus coming back through the door because she’d been thinking about him.

But it was her friend Andi Blake Jackson.

“What is going on?” Andi asked as she stepped in out of the cold. Andi was the local reporter for the Milk

River Examiner, the only newspaper for miles. She used to be a famous television newscaster in Texas, but she’d moved to Montana and fallen in love and as they say, the rest was history. Andi had become a permanent Whitehorse resident when she’d gotten hitched to Cade Jackson, who ran the local bait shop and raised horses on a place out by Nelson Reservoir. His family went way back in Whitehorse.

Kate and Andi had met when Andi did a story on Kate’s purchase of the old library building and her plans to open Second Hand Kate’s. They’d become fast friends.

“I was down the street and I couldn’t help but notice people coming and going in the shop. I thought ‘what is she selling?’ And then I found out. You know why business has been so brisk, don’t you?” She didn’t give Kate a chance to guess. “Cyrus Winchester. The talk around town is that he stopped by your shop. Everyone is dying to know what he bought.”

Kate had to smile. Andi had been born to be a reporter, with her natural curiosity and ability to ferret out news.

“Is that the man’s name?” Kate asked, pretending to play dumb.

Andi cocked a brow at her suspiciously. “Give it up. Jasmine already told me that you met him at the old hospital earlier. What was he doing here?”

She shrugged. “I think he was just looking.” Looking for what, though? Cyrus’s interest had been less in Second Hand Kate’s and more in Kate herself. Had it not been for his interest in the bracelet, she would have been flattered at the attention. It had been a while since she’d taken an interest in anything but getting her business going. Cyrus Winchester interested her. Now more than ever.

“He didn’t buy anything?”

“Nope.” Kate stepped behind the counter to sort through some new stock she’d purchased at one of the last of the season’s garage sales.

“Then why … “

Kate had shared only the basics of her past with her new friends in Whitehorse. There were some things she’d never told anyone. But she knew Andi and knew she would keep digging if she thought there was something going on. “Cyrus asked me out to dinner.”

Andi narrowed her gaze. “Get out of here. You do know what he’s doing in town, don’t you? He’s been asking a lot of questions about a murder.”

Kate checked her expression before she looked up from her garage-sale finds. “Murder?”

“This is where it gets really weird,” Andi said, looking around to make sure no one was within earshot. “There wasn’t a murder. The night he spent in the old hospital he thinks he walked down to the nursery and found a nurse murdered there, but he couldn’t have because he was in a coma the entire time and never left his bed.”

“So he dreamed it?”

“He doesn’t think so.”

“How do you know this for a fact?” Kate demanded, not liking that this was what everyone in town was talking about.

“I have a source at the hospital,” Andi whispered. “Her office is just outside the administrator’s and she hears everything.”

“So who did he think he saw murdered?” Kate asked, hating being part of the gossip and yet wanting to know more about Cyrus. Feeling as if she needed to know more about him and why he might be interested in her—and her mother’s bracelet.

Andi shrugged. “All he said was that it was a nurse who worked at the hospital. And get this, he thinks there were two babies in the nursery that night.”

“But there weren’t any babies in the nursery.”

Andi’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“Because I was there that night. Martha Ingram’s father, Wally, was in the hospital and at her suggestion I stopped by to discuss buying some of the furnishings. You know she’s on the hospital board. I think she thought talking about that would keep her mind off the fact that her father was dying.”

“So did you see or hear anything?”

Kate shook her head.

“You didn’t see Cyrus Winchester?”

“No. Martha and I talked out in the hallway. I saw the nurses behind the desk down the hall. Now that I think about it, I saw one of them go into the room next to the nurses’ station to check on the only other patient.” With a start she realized that had to have been Cyrus Winchester. “I just remember it was kind of weird with the hospital being so empty that night.”

“Creepy,” Andi said. “What if there really was a murder there that night?”

“I thought you said there wasn’t?”

Andi shrugged. “Still, you have to admit, it’s interesting that he is so determined there was a murder that he came all this way to check it out for himself. Clearly he’s mistaken, since there was no murder victim found and no babies in the nursery that night.”

Kate nodded, remembering the empty nursery she’d passed as she’d left that night three months before.

Interesting? Or very odd? “I wonder why he’s so convinced?”

“Maybe he’s got a screw loose after being hit in the head or he just imagined it. You know he spent three months in a coma and only recently came out of it.”

He was in a coma that long? Kate thought about how pale he’d looked when she’d seen him in the old hospital hallway earlier. He hadn’t looked well. She was reminded that she’d thought then that he’d looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Well, I would imagine he will give up and go back to wherever he’s from soon,” she said.

“Denver. He’s a private investigator in Denver with his twin brother, Cordell. They’re the grandsons of Pepper Winchester, a recluse who lives on a ranch forty miles south of here. He’s never been married.”

Kate laughed, thinking now she really did have his life history. “You left out his shoe size and that he’s quite handsome.”

“You noticed? I thought you didn’t have time for men?”

Andi had tried to set her up with several eligible bachelors when she’d first come to town, but Kate hadn’t been interested. “So are you going out to dinner with him?”

“I’m busy tonight, but I might if he asks again.” Kate realized that something had drawn her to Cyrus Winchester, something more than his good looks, as if they had some … connection—even before she’d seen his strange reaction to her mother’s bracelet. As Andi had put it, creepy.

“I’m not sure you should go out with him,” Andi said. “What if he is crazy? Jasmine said when you met him earlier at the old hospital he was looking for his room?”

“I was loading up the last of the furniture I bought at the auction. He said he wanted to see the room where he’d stayed that one night.” But he hadn’t been searching for his room. She got the feeling he’d gone straight to it.

“He came back to the scene of the crime?”

Kate realized that was probably exactly what he’d been doing. In fact, he’d said something to that effect. She shivered now at the memory.

Another group of women entered the shop on a fresh blast of cold air and autumn leaves. “I wonder if there ever have been any murders at the old hospital?” Kate whispered as the women disappeared into the back of the shop.

“None that I know of,” Andi said, thoughtfully.

Kate knew her friend. If anyone could track it down, it was Andi. “Let me know what you find out.”

A COUNTRY-WESTERN BAND played on a flatbed trailer parked along the main drag. Fall Festival was in full swing by the time Cyrus got there. He hadn’t seen Kate Landon, wasn’t even sure she’d show up.

Seeing that silver bracelet in her shop had thrown him for a loop. Then when she’d told him it had belonged to her mother …

He’d gone back to his hotel room and spent most of the afternoon trying to make sense of it, as if any of this made any sense. Maybe seeing Kate and the bracelet was just a coincidence. Just like the murder had been nothing more than his overactive imagination at work.

His head hurt and he tried to put all of it out of his mind as he walked along the crowded streets clustered with booths offering everything from crafts and home-grown pumpkins to Christmas-tree ornaments and baked goods.

A mixture of alluring scents floated along the street: burgers, chocolate, coffee, hot apple cider, barbecue, cotton candy. But one scent in particular drew him until he found the booth where women were making frybread.

He breathed in the delicious aroma, remembering another fall when he was five and his father brought him and Cordell into town for the Fall Festival.

“Two?” the woman behind the counter asked.

Cyrus started. Did he look as if he needed two frybreads? That’s when he noticed Kate had come up beside him and was doing the same thing he’d done, breathing in the wonderful aroma.

Her eyes were closed as she breathed in the scent of the frying bread, her expression one of unmitigated pleasure. He smiled to himself, guessing he’d had the same look on his face just moments before.

“Two,” he confirmed as Kate Landon opened her beautiful green eyes. He couldn’t believe how happy he was to see her and that happiness had nothing to do with his reason for coming to Whitehorse. “I take it you like frybread,” he said with a grin.

“I love frybread. This is why I wasn’t about to miss the Fall Festival or miss seeing you again.” She seemed to blush as her last words came out. As he handed her one of the confections covered with sugar and cinnamon, she said, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to buy mine.”

“My pleasure,” he said, taking his own and motioning to one of the picnic tables in the small park by the railroad line that still took passengers as far as Seattle or Chicago and all points beyond.

“How is the haunted house coming along?” Cyrus asked as he took a seat across from her.

“Slowly but surely. I’ve been so busy with getting all the furnishings out of the old hospital and opening my shop that I’m behind.” She took a bite of her frybread, emitting a soft satisfying groan.

He watched her, smiling as she licked the sugar and cinnamon from her lips, making it hard for him to concentrate on the questions he wanted to ask her.

“So are you a Whitehorse native?”

She opened her eyes and shook her head. “West Yellow stone.”

“That’s quite a change, from a tourist town surrounded by mountains to a prairie town on the Hi-Line just miles from Canada. How did you end up here?” he asked. It was an odd place for a single woman to open a business—unless she came with a husband or a lover, or had family here, he thought.

She chewed for a moment. “You know how some people spin the globe, close their eyes and pick a spot at random?”

He nodded. “I understand that’s how a lot of towns along the Hi-Line got their names—Malta, Zurich, Glasgow.”

“Well, it wasn’t quite that impulsive, but close.”

“So you don’t have any family here?”

“I didn’t know a soul when I arrived four months ago, but people are friendly here and I’ve settled in fairly well.”

“You must like it if you started a business.”

“Now that was impulsive,” she admitted with a laugh.

“I just happened to hit town during an auction. As you might guess, I’m a sucker for auctions and garage sales. When I saw that old library building was being auctioned off, it was love at first sight and the price was dirt cheap. Of course it needs work ….” She shrugged, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled.

He thought she couldn’t look cuter with a few grains of sugar and cinnamon at the corner of her mouth, her emerald eyes sparkling and that smile on her lips.

“How about you? Other than visiting your former hospital room, what brings you to Whitehorse?” she asked.

He realized she’d just been waiting for her turn to ask him questions. He figured she hadn’t been kidding earlier about knowing his life history and wondered what in particular she wanted to know. “Originally, it was because of my grandmother. She’d been a recluse for twenty-seven years so I haven’t seen her since I was seven. I got a letter from her lawyer, saying she wanted to see me and the rest of her family.” He shrugged. “Pepper Winchester is … well, there is no one like her. She’d make a great wicked witch for your haunted house.”

Kate laughed, a wonderful, light sound that made the night feel even more magical. “Was she really that bad when you saw her?”

“I haven’t seen her yet. I got waylaid in June when I drove up to see her.”

“The coma,” Kate said, sobering. “What happened?”

He gave her an abbreviated version of what he’d been told by his brother and had read in the local paper. He got the feeling she might have already heard some of it. What he didn’t tell her was that he now knew why his grandmother had asked him and the rest of the family to come back to Winchester Ranch.

It had to do with his uncle, Trace Winchester. Trace was the youngest son of Pepper and Call Winchester and Pepper’s favorite. Just recently it was discovered that Trace was murdered twenty-seven years ago.

Before that he was believed to have taken off, running from a pregnant wife and a poaching charge.

Cyrus’s grandmother, it seemed, believed that a member of the family might have been involved in Trace’s murder. She was getting everyone back to the ranch to question them.

She particularly wanted to question her grandsons after discovering they might have witnessed something from a third-floor room at the ranch—a forbidden room that had once been used as punishment.

“It sounds like trouble has a way of finding you,” she said, studying him. “My instincts tell me to give you a wide berth. Tell me I’m wrong about that.”

“I’d listen to your instincts,” Cyrus said, sounding and looking serious.

Kate wished she could. But her instincts also told her that this man knew something about her mother.

Not just that. She’d noticed when he told about how he’d ended up in a coma, that he’d left out the part about how he’d saved Raine Chandler’s life.

After helping Jasmine finish the ghost costumes, Kate had made a point of reading the article about Cyrus her friend Andi had been kind enough to print out for her. She’d remembered most of the articles about the child molesters from several months ago, but hadn’t put the names together.

Cyrus had almost lost his life. As it was he’d lost three months. The man was a hero, an honor she saw he didn’t wear comfortably.

Was that why she feared—even though the odds were against it—that he really had seen a murder at the hospital? But how could that have anything to do with her mother or her bracelet?

She finished her frybread, wiped her fingers on the napkin and dabbed at her mouth. She knew she was taking time to screw up her courage and it wasn’t like her. She thought of herself as being fearless—at least most of the time.

“I need you to tell me why you reacted the way you did earlier when you saw my mother’s bracelet,” she said bluntly.

Just as she’d expected, she caught him flat-footed. He didn’t seem to know what to say.

“I know you think you saw a murder at the old hospital the night you were a patient there,” she continued quickly. She’d heard concern in his voice, and when she looked into his dark eyes now she saw worry for her there. There was a connection, just as she’d feared.

“It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?” she said. “That’s why you looked as if you’d seen a ghost when you saw me at the old hospital, why you came by the shop and why you were so upset when you saw my mother’s silver bracelet.”

He stared at her in surprise and maybe a little awe and she knew she’d connected the dots correctly. Her heart hammered in her chest. She’d hoped he’d ask her what the devil she was talking about. Or at least try to convince her she had gotten it all wrong.

“Are you sure you want to hear about it?” he asked quietly.

Her pulse thundered in her ears at the gravity in his voice. “Yes.” She’d gotten this far in life by meeting obstacles head-on. She couldn’t stop now. Taking a breath, she asked the one question she feared the most. “Does this have something to do with my mother?”

“Why would you think what I have to tell you might involve your mother?”

She shook her head. As far back as she could remember, she’d had a feeling that her mother hadn’t died the way her grandmother had told her.

“I have my reasons,” she said.

He just looked at her. She could tell he didn’t want this to be about her mother any more than she did.

“Do you have a picture of her?” he asked finally.

“Back at the shop.” As she pushed to her feet, her legs felt weak as water. After all these years, was she finally going to find out what really had happened to her mother? Or was it just as her grandmother had told her and everything else was nothing but a child’s overactive imagination?

She hated questioning the stories her grandmother had told. Would she be questioning her mother’s death now if it wasn’t for that postcard she’d found in her grandmother’s jewelry box?

ON THE WALK BACK, Cyrus asked about her mother and the bracelet.

“My grandmother told me she died of pneumonia just after I was born.”

“You don’t believe that?”

She shook her head, clearly not wanting to get into her reasons.

“What about your father?”

“He was in the military, killed before I was born in some training exercise that went wrong. They were to be married when he came home on leave. He didn’t even know my mother was pregnant with me when he died.”

She’d never known either of her parents? Cyrus thought about his own mother, who’d hung in with his father just long enough to give birth to her twin boys before she’d split. He’d never gone looking for her, though sometimes he thought about it.

“My grandmother, Dimple, raised me.”

“Dimple?”

She laughed. “A nickname. She had these wonderful deep dimples when she smiled and she smiled a lot.” Her own smile faded. “She passed away four months ago.”

Four months. Right before Kate had come to Whitehorse.

“So Landon was your mother’s name as well as yours.” He could see that talking was taking her mind off the reason they were walking back to her shop.

“Yes.”

Cyrus was as nervous as she was about seeing photographs of her mother. Kate’s resemblance to the woman he’d seen murdered was too much of a coincidence, then throw in the bracelet … Still, he reminded himself that everyone in town swore there had never been a murder. But for his own sanity, he desperately needed to know why he’d dreamed all of this.

THEY HAD ALMOST REACHED Second Hand Kate’s when Cyrus asked, “How old were you when your grandmother gave you your mother’s bracelet?”

“She didn’t.” Kate still felt the betrayal. Why hadn’t her grandmother given it to her? “I found the bracelet after my grandmother died. It was hidden in the back of her jewelry box.” Along with the postcard.

“Hidden?”

“I don’t think my grandmother could bear seeing it.” Or didn’t want Kate to see it for some reason, she thought. Just like the hidden postcard.

They stopped at the bottom of the wide concrete stairs that led up to the front door of the shop. Suddenly Kate was afraid to go inside. All these years she’d told herself she wanted to know the truth. But did she? What if her mother had simply run off and her grandmother’s story was only to protect her?

“I don’t see what any of this has to do with the bracelet or my mother. She couldn’t be the woman you saw in your dream. How would that be possible?”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

So why was she so frightened? She knew the reason. “The woman you saw in your dream resembled me, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

She took that news like a blow even though she’d suspected as much given his reaction to her at the hospital. She looked into his handsome face and saw real concern for her. He was as scared as she was that somehow the murder he’d seen involved her.

“Let’s get this over with.” Kate pulled out her keys, her fingers trembling as she tried to get the key into the front-door lock.

Cyrus gently took the key ring from her and opened the door.

“Thank you.” He handed the keys back. She stepped past him to turn on a light and heard him close and lock the door behind them. A car went by with a burst of teenagers’ laughter. In the distance, Kate could hear the low hum of activity at the festival, but the deeper they moved into the old library building, the more deafening the quiet became.

“If you’ll wait here, I’ll go up and get the photograph album,” she said and hurried up the stairs. She hadn’t invited him up because she needed a moment to herself. At the top, she had to stop and catch her breath. The weight of what was about to happen sat like a boulder on her chest.

The album was where she’d put it in the hall closet. Taking it down carefully, she hugged it to her. These were the only photographs she had of her mother and like the bracelet, they were priceless to her.

When she felt a little steadier, she headed back downstairs. She told herself that Cyrus Winchester’s dream couldn’t possibly be about her mother. Because her mother hadn’t been in Whitehorse three months ago. Because in her heart, she knew her mother was dead. But what scared her was that she also knew her mother hadn’t died the way her grandmother had told her.

As she came down the stairs, she found him waiting where she’d left him. She motioned to a Victorian velvet couch and carried the album over to it to sit down.

Cyrus joined her. He looked as nervous as she felt as she opened the album to the photographs of her mother taken thirty years ago.

“This is Elizabeth, my mother.” Carefully, she slid the album over to him and held her breath.

CYRUS GLANCED DOWN at the young woman in the snapshot. She was holding a baby in her arms and smiling at the camera. She had auburn hair and wide green eyes and her resemblance to Kate was disturbing—Elizabeth Landon had looked just like her at about the same age.

He could practically hear Kate holding her breath next to him. “She’s not the woman I saw murdered.”

Her breath came out on a sob. She stumbled to her feet and stood with her back to him for a moment. He thought about going to her, trying to offer her some comfort, but feared it would not be welcome. He was the one who’d put her through this pain. And for what?

Cyrus looked down at the photo album in his lap, studying the woman and baby for a long moment before turning his attention to the other photographs.

He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach and must have made a sound because Kate turned to look at him.

“Who is this woman?” His voice sounded odd even to him.

Kate made a swipe at her tears as she looked from him to the album in his lap. His tone must have warned her because she stepped almost cautiously back to the couch and stood looking down at the open photo album.

“What woman?” she asked in a desolate voice.

“That one.” He pointed to another young woman. In the photograph she sat in a corner chair holding a baby. Kate, he assumed. What was haunting was that her features were nearly identical to Elizabeth Landon’s, but he had known at a glance that they were not the same woman.

Her hair wasn’t auburn but bleached blond. The wide blue-green eyes were unmistakable, although there was a sadness in them as well as in her expression.

“That’s Aunt Katherine, my mother’s older sister,”

she said in barely a whisper. “I was named after her. People used to say they looked so much alike they could have been twins.” Kate raised her gaze as she said it. She bit her lip, her eyes flooding with tears as she lowered herself to the couch. “Aunt Katherine is the woman you saw.”

He hadn’t had to answer. She’d seen his expression and was already shaking her head. “That’s not possible. Katherine’s been dead for thirty years. She died just before I was six months old. She’d always had a weak heart … “

Cyrus stared down at Aunt Katherine’s photo, wondering what in the hell was going on. This was the woman he’d seen lying in a pool of blood in the old hospital nursery. This was the woman who’d switched the babies just moments before her death and what had weakened this woman’s heart was the scalpel that had stabbed her in the chest.