He decided he had a great deal in common with Josiah Kessinger—he felt an instinctive need to protect Sable, and in doing so he had downplayed his fear. Whoever had tried to kill him might be—probably was—planning to kill Sable after she led them to the object, or objects, of their search. If she didn’t realize this yet, she would soon.
Audrey greeted them from the sofa when they stepped through the front door.
“At last.” She got up. “For a while I thought I’d been deserted. Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know about the others,” Murph said, “but we were out in the—”
“Murph!” The older woman rushed toward him, reaching up to touch the side of his face. “What on earth happened to you?”
Murph winced and stepped back. “A limb hit me. I’ll live.”
“A limb? I knew it would happen. These storms are deadly. We need to get some ice on that right away. I’ll get a towel. Sable, would you bring some ice in from outside? I’ll be right back—”
“Audrey,” Sable interrupted, “was anyone else outside recently? We wouldn’t want more injuries.”
“Nobody I know of,” Audrey said. “It’s a pretty sure bet Perry wouldn’t try it. He barely made it to the outdoor privy this afternoon. Took him thirty minutes to get there and back, and I saw him fall twice. I think he’s taking a nap now. He has decided to pump and haul water for the indoor facilities.”
“And Simmons?” Murph asked.
Audrey shrugged. “Haven’t seen him, don’t want to.”
Before Murph could ask about Craig, the basement door opened and Craig stepped through it. He switched off his flashlight and set it on the shelf behind the door. “The furnace is filled,” he said. “To capacity. How’d you do out there, Murph? Do we have enough wood to last us a few days?”
Murph paused. “Not as much—”
“Craig, can’t you see he’s wounded?” Audrey exclaimed. “Anybody who goes outside ought to wear a helmet. Surely you can make what we have last until the ice stops breaking the branches.”
Craig’s surprise and concern appeared genuine to Murph, but there was no time to think about it before the door to the family room opened across the hallway from the kitchen.
Bryce ambled out with a book in his hand. “Hey Sable, can I borrow this? There’s no electricity for a TV or computer and I’m getting bored.”
Sable stopped to talk to him and Murph followed Audrey into the kitchen before anyone else could ask questions about his accident. He needed to be the one asking questions. He needed to know where the others had been while he was being bashed in the head.
Chapter 15
Firelight flickered against the paneled walls with a muted glow. Usually at this time of the afternoon the sun filtered in through the long bay window, enhancing the subtle floral colors of sofa, chairs and window treatments Sable had chosen so carefully last summer. All looked gray this afternoon.
Sable turned from the window to the fire. The sounds of chatter and laughter drifted from the family room where Audrey, Jerri, and Bryce played a spirited card game. Murph was upstairs lying down.
The guests had been scattered throughout the house when Murph was attacked and no one had seen a thing.
Even the colors worn by Murph’s attacker gave her no clue—there were always two or three green coveralls and a couple of red knit caps in the mud room, used often by the family in the wintertime. Murph’s assailant had obviously found the mud room.
Murph had left firm orders for Sable to stay near the others, and when she couldn’t do that to keep Dillon with her. Sable had in turn given firm orders for him to rest and to let her know immediately if he noticed any changes in his vision, dizziness, or worsening of pain. He knew the drill. She had checked on him twenty minutes ago.
Simmons was in the dining room with a cup of coffee and an old copy of Field & Stream. Craig had returned outside to round up more wood despite Audrey’s dire warnings of the dangers involved.
Dillon lay at the hearth, his ears pricking forward every time someone entered the room.
Sable paced in front of the fire and paused at the old rock collection on a low shelf beside the staircase.
Before marriage, Grandpa had traveled extensively throughout the United States, hitching rides on boxcars. He’d always loved to share stories about the places he visited. This small display of stones was the only thing remaining from his travels.
Sable knew the shape and color of every mineral specimen and the story that went with each. By the time she was ten she had known more about Grandpa's collection than he knew himself. Something had seemed odd to her last night when she glanced at the shelf, and now, as she studied the collection, she realized that some of the mineral chunks had been switched around.
She picked up a lump of coal Grandpa had carried from Pennsylvania, and studied the position of the rose quartz. Hadn’t there been a chunk of galena between them? The galena was now at the far corner where the sphalerite used to be. Sable had never labeled them because she had known them by heart. But now—
“That dog seems to like you,” Audrey’s voice drifted quietly from the hallway.
Sable turned from the display case. “I like him too.”
The older woman's sherry brown eyes filled with sympathy as she ambled toward the sofa. “I was so sorry to hear about your grandfather. We haven’t had much time alone to talk. Would it be too intrusive to ask what caused his death?”
“He was in an automobile accident.” Or rather, that was the official determination.
“I’m so sorry.”
A noisy thump on the stairway caused both women to turn. Perry Chadwick had changed into a tan dress shirt and a pair of slightly wrinkled brown slacks. His thin pale brown hair clung to his scalp. The scant light from the window revealed a red blotch on the second fold of his triple chin.
“You're going to have a nasty bruise there,” Audrey said. “You should have let me put a vinegar poultice on that.”
“What happened?” Sable asked.
“I fell on the way to the outdoor privy,” Perry said. “Which is why I’m carrying water to the bathrooms.”
“He can't stay on his feet long enough to get wood from the porch into the house,” Audrey said. “Perry, you are so uncoordinated. If you'd gone to help chop in the forest, they'd have had to carry you back in a stretcher.”
Perry nodded. “It's the feet, you know. They aren't big enough to balance the weight of my body.” He grimaced. “That might change if we’re here for long. I’ve been looking over the food supplies.”
“Naturally,” Audrey said.
“Lots of good canned stuff, lots of meat.” Perry shook his head. “But there are quite a few people in this house and we don't know how long we'll be here.”
“We won’t starve,” Audrey said.
“Speak for yourself. You don’t need as much fuel to keep you alive. This may be the diet to end all diets for me.”
While the two exchanged mild barbs, Sable thought again about the case that Perry had guarded with such fierceness. What could be inside?
Perry gave up the discussion and strolled in the direction of the kitchen.
Audrey chuckled as he disappeared. “He reminds me of my grandson, the rascal. Always hanging around the kitchen underfoot. I took the liberty of preparing some stew this afternoon. Every time Perry returned for more water he had to sample the food, offer suggestions for seasoning, make a nuisance of himself. He can be amusing when he isn’t busy worrying about that silly suitcase of his.”
“I'm glad somebody has a good attitude about all this,” Sable said. “I'm also glad he's carrying the water. That's quite a job. I wouldn't want it.”
“You're in good physical condition, you don't need help getting into shape.”
Sable gave Audrey a quick once-over. “You’re in pretty good shape, yourself.”
“I try to keep busy. Time to check on Perry. Can't let him ruin dinner—or eat it all up.”<
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Sable waited until she heard Audrey and Perry arguing in the kitchen, then she glanced up the stairs. Her crazy thought wouldn't go away: What had the snoop found in Perry’s suitcase?
But it had nothing to do with her…did it? Perry was barely able to navigate outside, much less did he possess the nimble precision it would take to hover over a cliff edge and target Murph’s head with a limb. If he had been the one to push her last night, he would most likely have fallen with her.
But what if he was faking? She couldn’t dismiss any possibility at this point. What could be so important to Perry that he would lug a heavy suitcase all the way from the bus last night and protect it as if it were precious cargo? She’d heard him mention that he’d had other luggage on the bus, yet he’d chosen the one piece that contained only one change of clothing.
The rise and fall of the voices in the kitchen told her Audrey and Perry they were still embroiled in their good-natured argument. Except for Murph, the others were either downstairs or outside. If she wanted to snoop, this was the time. She gestured silently for Dillon to follow her.
The sewing room that Perry had claimed was down the hall to the right of the staircase. Directly across from that was the room that Murph and Simmons shared. The sewing room had two tall wide windows that allowed a surprising amount of light through, considering that the window at the far end of the room faced the mountainside.
Sable opened the door and glanced into the room. She hesitated. The case was surely locked, especially since Perry was convinced someone had broken into it this morning. Still…she took a step inside.
The door across the hallway opened suddenly. Icy needles of tension shot in streaks of electric current beneath her skin.
“Stop it, Sable,” she muttered to herself. This was her home, not Perry’s. If she wanted to be in this room, that was her right.
“Doing some dusting?” came Murph's dry voice.
She sagged against the doorjamb. “It's no use, I can't do this. It's crazy.”
“Dusting is crazy?” He came closer.
“I was going to find out what's in Perry's overnight case.” She automatically turned to check the injury on Murph’s face. For the amount of abuse his face and neck had sustained since last night, he looked surprisingly good. But she’d discovered that her perception of Murph was not that of a patient.
“That isn’t an overnight case, it’s a steamer trunk,” Murph said. “Don't let me stop you. I'd like to see inside for myself.”
“Feel free to open it. I was just chickening out. Remember how Perry said he hates snoops? This might be my home but his suitcase isn’t mine.”
Murph pushed the door open wider, coming so close she could feel the caress of his breath against her forehead. “We're both in on this one,” he said. “After you.”
Sable hesitated. “But should we be doing this?”
“I tossed etiquette out the window when you told me you’d been pushed. The limb smashing into my head sealed the deal.” He turned to Dillon. “Stay and watch, boy. Warn us if anyone starts up the stairs.”
The German shepherd sat.
Sable checked the upstairs landing once more, then quickly returned to the room. “Perry will have a seizure if he catches us. You saw how angry he was earlier.”
“I don’t care. Do you?”
She shook her head. Not really. “When I borrowed some toiletry supplies from Craig, he told me Perry had asked to use them too. So what’s in the case if not clothing or toiletries?”
They saw a laptop on the cot. That would count for a couple of pounds. Sable found the suitcase beneath the cot. She tugged at the handle to pull it out and lost her grip. “Wow. That thing is heavy.”
Murph reached down, pulled out the oblong, hard-sided black case, and set it on the thin mattress beside the laptop.
“Can you pick locks?” Sable asked.
“Yes but first let’s try the old fashioned approach.” He pushed against the metal latches and they snapped open.
Sable stared at it.
He lifted the lid of the case to reveal the heavy—and colorful—contents.
Nestled in the old worn suitcase, which Perry Chadwick had carried so protectively in the ice storm, were several volumes of books with pictures of food on their covers.
“Cookbooks,” Sable whispered.
Murph pulled out a large hardback. “Master Chefs.”
“Really? He carried these on the ice?”
Murph chuckled.
She picked up another heavy tome. “Real Man Diet. At least we know Audrey wasn't the one who snooped earlier. She still won’t let Perry near the food.” Eager to retreat, Sable replaced everything as she’d found it and closed the case.
Murph lifted it and placed it back beneath the cot. “Let's get out of here. We don’t want to jumpstart another temper tantrum.”
Sable hurried out toward the window at the end of the upstairs hallway. Murph closed the door behind them and joined her. Even in the dim light she could see the deep red mark at the side of his face.
Without thinking she reached up and gently touched the swollen welt. “How do you feel?”
His jaw tensed.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I know it hurts.”
A comfortable smile spread across his face. “Pain suddenly isn’t an issue right now. You’ve got the healing touch, Doc. I think I’m going to live.”
“If I thought otherwise I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you for saving my life.”
“You’re still one up on me.”
“It’s not a contest.”
“You’ve rescued me twice now.” She thought about those rescues and shivered. “Have I told you I’m scared?”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “We’re sane. Of course we're afraid.” He placed his fingers on the base of her neck and massaged it with slow moves. “I don’t see anything wrong with fearing for our lives.”
She closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch for maybe five seconds. Instead of relaxing her, however, automatic warning signals shot through every nerve in her body. This was different kind of danger. She stiffened and stepped away.
He released her immediately. “I apologize.”
She smiled up at him, most likely sending mixed messages, but she wasn’t exactly thinking straight right now. “I don’t want to further complicate an already complicated mess. You’re an easy man to like.”
He didn’t move away. Though he didn’t touch her again, he silently drew her gaze.
“I don’t need to become involved in more than one dangerous situation at a time.” She kept her voice light and teasing but she meant exactly what she said.
His grin was open and guileless. “I’m not dangerous.”
Oh, he could be very dangerous. “Fear can trigger emotional decisions one wouldn’t ordinarily make. Those can be the wrong decisions.”
“So if I understand what you’re saying,” Murph said, “you’re afraid that if our friendship were to grow into something that resembled a relationship I would suddenly become a different person from the one I am now.”
“I think we need to get through this situation alive without allowing mutual attraction to cloud our judgment.”
He inclined his head. “That makes sense. We’ll get through this situation.”
She turned and walked toward the stairs.
“Afterwards we can concentrate on the relationship,” he added.
She stopped. “That isn’t what I meant.”
Murph caught up with her and seemed to stop short of enfolding her in his arms. “What did you mean?”
She looked up at him and felt her pulse quicken at the serious expression in his eyes. This was no light flirtation. He was sincere. And he was so very attractive.
But this wasn’t the time. She wasn’t sure there would be a time, attractive as he was. She’d seen first-hand how relationships caused pain and loss. She’d seen her
grandparents struggle in their marriage, and she knew how badly her mother had been devastated by Dad’s death.
“Careers and romance don’t always seem to mix,” she said. “I’m focused on my career.”
“Sorry, but as trite as this may sound, your actions speak a different language. Seems to me I’ve picked up on a little more than professional interest,” he said.
“You don't have a problem with self-confidence, do you?”
“Actually,” he said, then paused thoughtfully, “when it comes to you, I feel extremely insecure. With something that could become important to both of us, I think it would be a mistake to turn tail and run.”
She blinked in surprise. Transparent honesty? Wow.
“Besides which,” he continued, “come to think of it, you did tell me in so many words how concerned you were about my welfare. Remember? Up on the hill?” He gingerly touched the welt on his cheek. “I think I can take that personally.”
“You're too pushy, Paul Murphy. It could land you in trouble someday.”
She caught a glint of humor in his expression. Feeling a smile attempting to take over her face again, she swung back toward the staircase.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Downstairs to warm up and check on the food. I’m cold and hungry. Arguing with you isn’t helping.”
“If it's okay with you I'd like to look around the attic. I know you said your grandfather put all his important things in an impossibly locked safe, but it doesn't hurt to keep trying. Maybe I can even figure out the combination.”
Sable hesitated.
“Do you need me to go downstairs with you for some reason?” he asked.
“No, I…”
His expression changed and all the teasing lightness in his eyes vanished. “You don't trust me alone in the attic.” There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
“I trust you but you could be attacked up there as easily as outside.”
“Oh.” Some of the lightness returned. “Then keep watch. Everyone’s downstairs, right? Make sure they stay there. And keep Dillon with you.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I'll see you later.”
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