by Laurie Paige
“What should we do?” Kelly asked, volunteering for duty. She grabbed an apron and tossed one to Chelsea.
Chelsea had no choice but to smile, don the apron and get to work. Jim assigned her to slicing tomatoes and onions while Kelly set out condiments and bags of chips.
Pierce had been laughing and talking when the women arrived. Now he was silent. Chelsea felt like an intruder.
“Hey, Doc,” a male voice called. Holt Tanner separated himself from a crowd of friends and came over. “I heard you finished the autopsy yesterday.”
Chelsea admitted she had.
“Will the report be ready tomorrow?” he asked.
Around Pierce’s age, the lawman shared the same intense intelligence and curiosity that Pierce had displayed about the case yesterday.
“Yes. In fact, it’s ready now. I printed it out this morning,” she told him.
“Great. Let’s go get—”
“You’re off duty this evening,” Pierce broke into the conversation. “The report can wait until tomorrow.”
The quick warning glance he flashed Chelsea told her he didn’t want the news about Harriet Martel to be disclosed today.
“Holt, how about meeting in my office at nine in the morning?” He flicked another glance her way. “Dr. Kearns, will you be available?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ll discuss it then.”
“I’d better tell the sheriff,” Holt said, peering around the lake. “He’s interested in the case and would probably want to attend the meeting.”
“I don’t want anyone there but you and Chel— Dr. Kearns.”
Deputy Tanner stared at the mayor for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be there. See you, Doc.”
Chelsea had met the lawman Monday afternoon when she arrived in Rumor. He’d told her of the arrangements for her work at the morgue and directed her to the lake house Kelly had put at her disposal. Chelsea had liked the deputy’s no-nonsense directness and his easy mannerisms.
After he ambled off, Pierce looked her way. “Is the cabin satisfactory? You have everything you need?”
“Yes, it’s a lovely place. I’m quite happy there.”
“Good. Call the office if something doesn’t work. They’ll send a man over.”
She realized the cabin must belong to the resort, rather than to Kelly and Jim as she’d thought, and therefore to Pierce. He was her host for the duration of her vacation.
“Thank you,” she said, and smiled graciously while her heart jumped in alarm. This could get complicated.
Pierce gave her a keen glance as if noting the lack of real warmth in her thanks, as if he knew she wouldn’t have accepted accommodations there had she known it belonged to him. His gaze hardened.
Kelly gave him a poke in the ribs. “I hate to mention this, oh great chef, but the hot dogs are burning.”
He moved the blackened ones to the back of the grill. “Ring the dinner bell, smart mouth,” he ordered.
Chelsea smiled at the teasing between the two. Unlike her family, the Daltons were closely knit. Their father had died when Pierce was thirteen. He and Kelly had pitched in to help their mom make ends meet on her housekeeping earnings. Kelly and Pierce had made being poor sound like an adventure. Chelsea knew it must have been hard.
Her own family had been split by divorce when she was four. Each parent had remarried and had two other children, leaving her the odd man out in each family.
Poor, pitiful me, she mocked the odd sorrow she couldn’t quite shake.
The ringing of the bell brought a flock of hungry kids and parents to the table where she and Kelly toiled for the next two and a half hours, keeping everyone supplied with napkins, paper plates, tons of chips, mustard, relish and mayo while the men served an equal amount of meat.
“Hey, the end of the line,” Kelly sang out in relief. “We can fix a plate and sit down.”
Chelsea had to admit she was happy for a respite, too. Holding a soda can in one hand and a full plate with the other, she glanced around the picnic area.
“Come on,” Pierce told them. “There’s a table on my deck where we can sit.”
His house nestled in the trees that screened the resort from view. Like hers, it was made of stone on the bottom and logs on the top half with lots of windows to let in light. The deck wound around several trees near the edge of the creek. They settled in padded chairs at the patio table.
“Hi, Dr. Kelly,” a little boy called out.
“Hi, Dr. Kelly,” a girl around the same age echoed.
“Two of my favorite patients,” Kelly said, waving at the pair. “They’re twins and just full of mischief.”
Chelsea noted the longing on Kelly’s face as she watched the twin brother and sister run across the lawn and join a man and woman at a table by the lake. They looked like a happy family.
“Shall we tell them our surprise?” Kelly asked her husband.
“Sure.”
“Jim and I think we’re going to become parents in about eight months,” Kelly said softly.
Chelsea’s throat closed up at the exchange of gentle glances between husband and wife. Kelly was also thirty-four. It was time they were starting their family.
“Congratulations,” she said, truly glad for them, but envious, too. They’d married right after Kelly got out of medical school. Her residency had been hard on the marriage, but they had gotten through the tough times. Now they radiated quiet happiness as they shared their news.
Pierce laughed. “Wait till Mom hears she’s going to be a grandmother. She’ll buy out the toy stores by Christmas.”
“We’re thinking of adding on another bedroom to the house,” Jim said. “You think your construction crew could work us in?”
“Sure. You need to finish replacing the plumbing in that old barn, too. And the wiring. How about moving to one of the cabins and letting us do it all at one time? It’ll save you money in the long run.”
“Talk to your sister,” Jim said.
“Sis?”
“You know I hate moving,” Kelly wailed.
Chelsea knew the family had lost their home after their father had died. Finding places they could afford to rent had been touch-and-go during those early years until Pierce got out of high school and started working full-time.
He’d gotten his real estate license and started his own construction company by the time he was twenty-one. At twenty-five, he’d moved his mother into a brand-new home of her own, and she’d never had to move again.
When he’d bought the lake property, he’d built this marvelous home for himself two years ago. When Kelly had told her about it, Chelsea had thought he would be bringing a bride to his secluded retreat soon.
Why hadn’t he ever married?
She stared into the distance as she contemplated the question. No answer came to her. After a bit she watched the scene by the lake while she finished the meal. Seeing the twins, she smiled as they organized a game of tag with several other kids, the brother and sister ironing out the rules between them, while the others waited for the final decision. Born leaders, they were.
Her eyes misted over. She wasn’t getting any younger, but a family wasn’t in the cards. Her gaze swung around like a magnet pointing to the lodestar.
Pierce was watching her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t look away. Then she did and hoped he hadn’t detected the longing that filled her to the point she hurt someplace deep inside.
Life was what it was, she reminded herself. She hadn’t time for adolescent yearning. She had a job to do—help the police find the person who would take the life of a woman and her child, then hide it as a suicide.
A local, she’d concluded. A stranger would have simply left the area. Only someone who lived there would need to cover his or her tracks. She wondered if Pierce had figured that out.
Chapter Two
Chelsea didn’t want to be at his house, Pierce realized when she announced she shou
ld get back to the other cabin. She didn’t want to be around him, period.
For some reason that made him angry. It also stirred up a demon that made him want to make sure she was as aware of his presence as he was of hers.
He cursed long and silently, but it did no good. All the old feelings she’d once evoked in him were on a rampage. He wanted to kiss her, to yell at her, to…to… Hell, he didn’t know.
“You can’t leave,” Kelly insisted. “We have to stay for the fireworks.”
“We’ll have to move closer,” Pierce said. “The trees screen us from the east side of the lake.”
His sister had an answer for that. “Let’s go over to Chelsea’s place. It has a perfect view of the entire lake.”
Before anyone could protest, Kelly was on her feet and leading the way. Pierce gritted his teeth. He knew his sister when she was in her full-speed-ahead mode.
“Another beer?” he asked Jim.
Jim cast him an amused but sympathetic glance. “Yes, thanks.”
Pierce retrieved a couple of bottles from his fridge and followed the other three across the stepping stones in the creek to the other house that was basically a smaller version of his own. He didn’t know what Kelly and Chelsea were planning, but he wanted no part of it.
Eight years ago she’d chosen a residency in forensic pathology at a prestigious university hospital back east over a future with him. Who could blame her?
For a moment he recalled how she’d looked—her eyes shining and filled with awe that she’d been accepted in the program. Then had come an expression of uncertainty, as if she didn’t know what to do with him. He’d wished her well and made it clear he’d never been interested in a long-term relationship with her.
So what was she doing back in Montana? Knowing his sister, the answer wouldn’t be good news for him.
Heaving a rough sigh, he carried the beers over to the deck bordering the lake and settled in a chair already in place for him…next to Chelsea.
“Good timing,” Kelly said. “The fireworks are just starting.”
Seeing Chelsea slap at her arm, he recalled that she seemed to attract every mosquito for a mile around and developed big lumps from their bites. “I’ll get some bug spray,” he told her.
“I have some.” She went into the cabin and returned in a minute, smelling of citronella. She waved the spray can at them. “Anyone else?”
Kelly held out a hand. “Yes. Honey, I’ll spray your back, then would you do mine?” she said to Jim.
Pierce observed while the couple took care of each other. When he glanced at Chelsea, she, too, was watching, a quietness about her that was unsettling.
Huh. She’d chosen her career over all else. If she regretted it, that was just too bad.
Pleased that he was able to maintain the right psychological distance from her, he relaxed, took a swig of beer and enjoyed the first burst of fireworks over the lake.
Chelsea woke fully alert and ready to get on with the day. She had three hours before the nine o’clock meeting in Pierce’s office. Plenty of time for a swim and workout.
She donned a bathing suit and headed out the back door to the deck. The lake wasn’t deep enough to dive in at this point, but she could wade out to waist deep, then swim some laps. She set her waterproof watch for twenty minutes.
The air was already comfortably warm, an indication that the day would be another scorcher. What had happened to those cool Montana nights?
She waded into the lake, then laughed as chills raced along her thighs. The water hadn’t warmed up. She plunged in up to her neck, sighted a cottonwood as a marker and swam steadily up and down the shore between the deck and the tree for twenty minutes.
Finished, she raced for the deck and the towel she’d left behind. “Oh,” she said softly upon seeing Pierce standing there in snug jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
He tossed her the towel, his gaze colder than the icy water of the lake.
“Good morning,” she said, determined to be cheerful around him. It was time to get over the past and move on.
“That is the skimpiest bathing suit I’ve ever seen,” he told her.
She looked at her two-piece suit. It was cut high on the legs as all of them were, but it wasn’t a string bikini or anything like that. “Surely not,” she said airily.
Uh-oh, wrong thing to say. He looked as if he would like to choke her.
“That outfit might be modest for the city, but around here, folks dress more circumspectly.”
She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.
Pierce glared at her.
She laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, not at all sincerely. “It’s just that you sound so pompous and indignant, not at all like the Pierce who dared me to go skinny-dipping in the pool at my apartment building at three o’clock on a January morning.”
He looked rather taken aback that she would bring up the passionate past, but she’d realized last night that they couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.
“I’m not here to discuss the past,” he informed her. “I have other things to do than watch out for you.”
“No one asked you to look after me.”
Gesturing toward her outfit, now hidden by the towel, he stalked toward her. “If some of the guys working here see you like that, they’ll take it as an open invitation to visit. I won’t have them distracted by a siren from the city.”
Chelsea rubbed the end of the towel over her dripping hair. She’d never been called a siren before.
“If it’s for my benefit,” he continued, “you’re wasting your time. I have more important things to do than get mixed up with you again.”
Astounded at this proclamation, she stared at him. The situation was no longer amusing. Anger flamed. “Pompous and egotistical,” she murmured loud enough for him to hear. “You have changed in eight years.”
His gaze drifted all the way down to her feet and back to her face. “You’re on my turf now. Watch yourself.”
With that sage advice, he strode off, heading back to his house in a manner that suggested a charging bull. She leaned against the railing and frowned at his back, her temper unappeased.
“You’d better watch yourself, too,” she called to him. “City sirens are hard to resist.”
His shoulders stiffened, but he stalked on.
Feeling that she’d gotten the last word in, she shivered and hurried inside to a warm shower. The day was off to a good start. She could hardly wait to see how the rest of it went.
“I don’t believe it. Miss Martel?” Holt Tanner said when Chelsea related her findings.
“Nevertheless, it’s true.”
“Four months,” he repeated. “Who was the father?”
“He didn’t leave a calling card.”
Pierce shot a warning glance at her flippant remark. He still wasn’t very happy with her. Fine. She could live with that. In fact, it made things easier. There would be no more dreams of hot kisses and roaming hands—
“And you can definitely rule out suicide?”
She nodded to the lawman.
Holt paced to the window. “I don’t want the news of a pregnancy to get out. It’s the only thing we know that the killer also knows. Maybe he’ll slip up sooner or later.”
Chelsea was pleased that the deputy was on the same mental track with her. “He’s local.”
“Yeah, I realized that as soon as you said she was pregnant. Do you think she was blackmailing him—demanding money for her silence?” The lawman stared into the middle distance, deep in thought.
“Or demanding marriage,” Pierce suggested. He rubbed a hand over his face. “What else don’t we know about the mysterious Miss Martel, gruff and reclusive librarian that she was?”
Holt turned a chair around and straddled it, his forearms crossed over the back. “I’ve been checking her records and accounts. By Rumor standards, she was rich.”
“Harrie
t Martel?” Pierce was obviously startled at this new disclosure.
Holt nodded. “She’d been investing her money for years. There’s a sizable inheritance.”
“Who gets it?”
“I don’t know if there’s a will. The only relatives are her sister, Louise Holmes, and Louise’s son, Colby. Gossip has it that Colby is denying his aunt would have killed herself.” Holt frowned. “The thought of murder makes people nervous.”
“It could scare off the tourists, too. The city council is planning another event after the success of the Crazy Moon Festival last month. It’ll be a bust if no one shows up for it.”
Chelsea listened quietly as the men discussed the case and the consequences for the small town that depended on tourist dollars for cash flow. Murder spread a wide ripple across a narrow pond in a community such as Rumor.
Holt snapped his fingers. “In a murder case in one town, they tested every male’s DNA. We could do that.”
Chelsea grimaced. “The perp paid another man to take the test for him, so the results didn’t do any good.”
“Not until the man’s conscience finally got the better of him and he confessed. The perp was then tested and found to be guilty,” Holt reminded her.
Pierce dismissed the idea. “The court would have to agree it was necessary, too, else it’s an invasion of privacy. I don’t think a judge in the county would condone widespread testing.”
The men were silent as they sought another avenue to pinpoint the murderer.
“Chelsea, can you help out?” Pierce asked.
“Of course. What do you have in mind?”
“Holt, do you mind if Chelsea looks over all the evidence? I can vouch for her discretion,” he added when the lawman shot her a troubled glance. “You can take her out to Harriet’s house and let her poke around. Maybe she’ll find an angle we’ve overlooked.” He smiled grimly. “Harriet was murdered on Saturday night, during the last weekend of the festival. Six days ago. We need this case wrapped up.”
Holt stood. “Are you available now? I’m free this morning, but I have to present evidence at a hearing this afternoon.”
“Yes,” she said.