by B. J Daniels
“But how can that be?” Helen asked. “I never saw her with a child, and she certainly never talked of children.”
Clancy felt a surge of hope. “Then you did know her fairly well?”
Helen chuckled. “It’s a small island, dear. Everyone knew her. But it sounds like you know more about Lola than I do. I didn’t even know she had a son.”
“Oh, I thought you might have befriended her,” Clancy said.
“What would make you think that?” Helen asked as she turned to take a peck into the oven at her roast.
The smell was enough to make Clancy drool. “I remembered that you were both involved in the Flathead Community Theater Company in Bigfork that summer.”
Helen laughed. “I just did some of the makeup and helped with costumes.”
“Didn’t Lola star in one of the plays right before her death?” Clancy asked.
Helen frowned as she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of salad. “It’s been so long, but now that you mention it, I think she did. Why do you ask?”
“I remember the play,” Clancy said, suddenly hesitant. Earlier her theory had made sense. Right now it seemed silly. “I wondered if you knew what happened to the necklace she was wearing opening night?”
“A necklace?” Helen asked in surprise. She wheeled over to the dining-room table by the window with the salad. Clancy noticed the table settings for the first time. Fresh flowers, cloth napkins, candles and fancy china?
“Is it your anniversary?” Clancy asked, even more ashamed for interrupting Helen’s cooking.
“Oh, dear, no.” Helen smiled. “I just wanted to spoil my husband tonight. He’s been a little under the weather lately.”
Clancy felt tears pool in her eyes. They threatened to overflow and spill down her cheeks.
“I’m so fortunate to have a man like Johnny,” Helen said, straightening the napkins she’d folded by each plate. “We’ve been married for almost thirty years. We were childhood sweethearts, you know.” She turned and seemed surprised to find Clancy near tears. “Are you all right, dear?”
Clancy hadn’t thought much about true love, marriage or love-ever-after. Not since Jake had left the island ten years ago. Dex certainly hadn’t made her realize what she’d been missing. But standing here, smelling pot roast, seeing this romantic dinner scene, having earlier kissed her own childhood sweetheart—
”What’s wrong?” Helen asked again.
Clancy made a swipe at her tears. She was exhausted. Overstressed. Overemotional. But then, why wouldn’t she be? She was a suspected murderer who wasn’t even sure she was innocent, and a dead man was after her. That would make anyone a little teary at unexpected moments. “I’m fine.” She wondered how many more times she could say those two words before she started to scream.
“You’re not fine,” Helen said, taking her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Clancy found herself pouring out her heart. From Dex’s death, to the hand coming out of the water and scraping her ankle with the silver watchband, to Jake.
Helen smiled kindly when she finished. “It sounds like Jake being back might be putting even more stress on you. You have feelings for him, haven’t you?”
Clancy tried to deny it and couldn’t. She brushed away her tears, feeling relieved to be able to talk to someone who believed her. “Thanks for listening to me.”
“Anytime, dear. I’ll always have a strong shoulder for you to cry on. Now, what can I do to help you?”
“Was there anyone else involved in the theater company that summer who might still be around?” Clancy asked.
Helen seemed to think for a moment. “Frank Ames. I believe he helped with some of the scenery.” She straightened one of the place settings. “Why are you looking for a necklace of Lola’s, dear?”
Clancy knew it sounded ridiculous. What could a string of tiny blue beads have to do with finding Dex’s murderer? “I just thought she might have given it to a friend. Or left it with someone for safekeeping.”
“You thought I was that friend.” Helen smiled kindly. “I was probably as close as anyone to Lola, but I wouldn’t say we became friends. I’m sorry, dear.”
Johnny came in then. “Clancy, what a nice surprise. Something sure smells good. I hope you’re staying for dinner.”
“Pot roast,” Helen said, sounding pleased. “Wash up. I tried to get Clancy to join us, but she can’t. I want her and Jake to come to dinner soon.”
“Real soon,” Johnny called as he headed down the hall.
“What did this necklace look like?” Helen asked.
“Tiny blue beads. Like hippies used to wear. There was a small handmade dark blue ceramic heart at its center.”
Helen seemed surprised. “I thought maybe it was diamonds. You made it sound so important.”
Clancy knew she must seem irrational, worrying about a string of beads at a time like this. “Dex had it the day he was killed. I just wondered where he might have gotten it.” And where it was now.
“I wish I could have helped,” Helen said.
Clancy thanked her and made a hasty goodbye, promising she’d come back soon. Once on her bike, she headed for home.
The air felt cool against Clancy’s flushed cheeks. It had been hot in the kitchen, she assured herself. She wasn’t flushed and embarrassed about her silly behavior. Crying over nothing. As she rode through the shadowy trees, she made excuses for her tears back in Helen’s kitchen. They had nothing to do with Jake Hawkins. Nothing at all, she told herself.
* * *
JAKE REACHED THE TOP of the ridge and stood for a moment, scanning what little of the island he could see through the dense pines, disappointed Clancy was nowhere to be seen. Down the mountain at the resort, an American flag snapped above the treetops in the wind; whitecaps dotted the water beyond the bay. Jake wondered if Clancy had gone back to the resort. Or if she was just out riding and thinking. Or maybe making a run for it?
He’d tried not to think on his hike up the mountain. It made his head hurt, trying to put together pieces of a puzzle he’d spent ten years trying to solve. Worse yet was worrying about Clancy. And that latest stupid kiss.
Not that he regretted either kiss. Unprofessional, yes. Totally out of line, unquestionably uncalled for. And yet he couldn’t get either one out of his head, let alone out of his blood. He’d planned to do more than kiss her when the opportunity arose. But the kiss on the dock had been as unexpected for him as it was for her. The real problem, however, was the effect it had on him.
Now he was out wandering in the woods looking for the most frustrating woman in the world. Stubborn. Hell-bent determined. Too brave for her own good. Grudgingly, he admitted he admired her.
Under normal circumstances. But now he worried that Clancy might not have just gone for a bike ride. He worried she might have taken off. Tricked him again.
There was one way to find out. If she’d run, she’d need a boat to get her off the island. As he hurried down the trail, he realized he’d spent most of his time on this case chasing that woman.
At the resort office, the clerk assured him that no one matching Clancy’s description had rented a boat.
Jake used the phone to call the lodge, hoping Clancy had returned by now. He hadn’t seen Tadd since they’d split up to search for her. Aunt Kiki quickly informed him that neither Clancy nor Tadd had returned.
He hung up, more worried. Unless he missed his guess, Clancy was still on the island. The question was where?
As he started to leave the phone booth, he remembered the Bransons and dialed their number.
“Clancy was here, Jake, but she left just a little while ago,” Helen told him. He could hear the clatter of dishes in the background and apologized for interrupting her dinner. She assured him they were just finishing. “I invited Clancy to join us, but she said she had to get home.”
He hung up, wondering why she’d gone to the Bransons’, and started back up the trail. So she was headed home. That was a good si
gn. He told himself he’d known she hadn’t taken off again, at least not far. But he still felt a sense of relief that lifted his spirits. All right, maybe he’d started to trust her a little and he was glad she hadn’t broken that trust by skipping the island to parts unknown.
Come on, Hawkins. When are you going to be honest with yourself? You desperately want to believe in Clancy’s innocence. You’re such a chump, you even want to believe she didn’t perjure herself at your father’s trial, that maybe there’s another explanation.
Jake cursed his own foolishness. As he topped the mountain and started down the other side, he spotted Liz Knowles. Two things struck him as odd. One was the way she was dressed. The other was her hurried pace. He went after her on the side trail she’d taken, wishing he had enough time to tail her secretly and find out where she was headed in such a hurry.
“Hello,” Jake said, catching up to her.
She jumped, startled. Scared, too, he noticed. Like a turkey on Thanksgiving morning. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was the cause of her fear. Or someone else. After all, if the cabin girl was right, Liz had spent some quality time with Dex right before his death.
“You haven’t seen Clancy, have you?”
“Clancy?” She wore a freshly ironed shirt with matching shorts and sandals. Her hair was pulled up, her lips painted pink, her cheeks flushed with blusher, and she smelled of perfume. He figured she had a date and must be meeting him on the trail somewhere since there was nothing but rocks and trees the way she was headed. She seemed a little overdressed for a roll in the pine needles.
“Clancy Jones, the woman you said you overheard threaten Dex Westfall on the day he died,” Jake said through gritted teeth.
“Why would you ask if I’d seen her?” The drone of a dirt bike broke the stillness. Liz glanced up the mountain, her look agitated. He was keeping her from something. “I don’t even know the woman. Of course I haven’t seen her.” When she looked again at Jake, she seemed all the more anxious to be on her way.
He decided to let her go. She started down the trail, turned once to see if he was following her, then took a side trail that headed off to the west. He had a feeling that wasn’t the way she’d intended to go, that she’d changed her plans because of him.
Jake headed down a trail that would eventually lead him back to Clancy’s lodge. As he walked, Clancy crowded his thoughts. Flashes of her making pancakes. Lounging in the boat with that silly fishing hat hiding her eyes. Standing in his arms. Looking up at him, her eyes filled with—He stumbled and swore. Love.
* * *
CLANCY HEARD THE BUZZ of a dirt bike coming up the mountain. The engine whined, the bike bucking as it climbed the steep terrain. The sound grew louder. She felt a chill and realized how dark the sky had gotten. Shadows hunkered in the pines. A wind blew up from the lake, swaying the tops of the trees. She pedaled faster through the growing darkness of the approaching storm, anxious to get back to the lodge. And Jake. Her sense of security ebbed with the light.
She was almost at a trail that dropped down to her lodge when she heard the dirt bike behind her, saw its headlight flicker in the trees in front of her as the bike gained on her. The bike was coming up behind her fast. Too fast. Didn’t he see her? She took a side trail, stopping partway down the narrow path, waiting for the motorbike to go by.
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she heard the biker stop. Clancy looked up to see a figure wearing a shielded dark helmet standing astride an old motorbike. She couldn’t see his face behind the helmet, but she could feel him staring at her. Her heart thundered at the thought of whose face was hidden behind the shield.
She jumped on her bike and took off down the tree-lined trail, wanting only to get home. Above her on the mountainside she heard the bike motor rev. In horror, she realized he was chasing her. Panic tore through her. She pedaled as if the devil himself were at her heels. But when she stole a glance back, the trail behind her was empty, and she could hear the whine of the dirt bike dying off into the distance.
Clancy’s heart thumped wildly in her chest. Paranoia. Maybe Jake was right. She was imagining things. Her legs felt weak and shaky from her scare. What had made her think that biker was chasing her? Was it the same thing that had made her think someone had tried to drown her? The same thing that made her think she saw a tight in the lodge last night? Made her think she saw Dex?
The sky darkened to charcoal overhead. In the distance, she heard the rumble of thunder. The wind picked up, whipping the tops of the pines. Ahead, the trail forked, the trees opened a little. The path to the left circled up the mountainside to the east end of the island, the one on the right dropped rapidly in a series of switchbacks to the beach and her lodge. Clancy relaxed. She’d be home soon. An image of a furious Jake filled her mind. Even he would be a welcome sight.
A bolt of lightning splintered the sky above the treetops, making her jump. Thunder boomed, drowning out the sound of the dirt bike.
The biker appeared in a flash of movement. Leaping from the pines. All she saw was a blur. All she felt was the bike hit hers. A scream caught in her throat. The ground came up to meet her. She hit it hard, knocking the air from her lungs. Then she fell, tumbling down the steep mountainside.
Chapter Thirteen
As Jake wound his way through the dense pines, he heard the unmistakable whine of the dirt bike again. It cut through the softer evening sounds, irritating his already fried nerves. He cursed himself with each step. He was handling things poorly. He should have stashed Clancy with her aunt Kiki. Or had her bail revoked. At least if she was in jail, he wouldn’t have to worry about her. And right now, he was worried.
One of his faithful hunches pounded at the back of his brain to a little ditty that had started the moment Kiki Talbott Conners had set one high-heeled foot on the dock beside his boat in Galveston. It reverberated like the thunder overhead and promised a darkness far beyond the storm bearing down on the island.
* * *
THUNDER RUMBLED and the sky darkened like night. Clancy’s skin was cut, scraped and gouged as she fell, plunging down through brush and branches, dirt and rocks. She fought to find purchase, grabbing at anything, everything, to keep from tumbling all the way down the steep mountain to the beach below. Finally, when she thought she’d never stop, she plunged over a large, old fallen log, decayed from the years, dropped into a hole rimmed by a thicket of fresh new pines and slammed to a halt.
That’s when she felt the pain. It shot through her, making it hard to tell if she was seriously hurt or not. She tried to get to her feet, but her body screamed with pain for her to lie still a little longer.
Overhead, thunder clapped with a startling closeness. She glanced around to see that she’d fallen into a hole below the rotted log. Squirming away from the prickly pines, she leaned back against the warm earth, stared up at the blackened sky above her, and assessed her injuries. None fatal, few that required more than a bandage. She’d been very lucky. Again.
She replayed the accident over in her head. Then slowly she sat up, her heartbeat accelerating to breakneck speed. It had been no accident. The biker had waited in the pines and deliberately hit her. But why? And where was he now?
She glanced up the mountainside but couldn’t see past the fallen log blocking her view. Suddenly the day seemed too quiet. In that deafening silence before the storm, she heard a sound above her that congealed her blood. The soft scuffle of footfalls, half stumbling, half sliding, coming down the mountain.
A flash of lightning electrified the sky and illuminated the darkness. The light died in an instant, leaving thunder to rattle across the treetops. Dirt showered down on her, cascading over the log, as someone drew closer. The biker. Her mouth went dry, her pulse pounded so loudly she feared he could hear it.
She didn’t move, just waited, knowing that any moment he would peer over the log and see her lying there.
A voice in her mind, which sounded a lot like Jake’s,
yelled for her to move under the log. And yet she waited, with a sickening sureness that he’d find her before she could move. Then the lightning splintered the sky; thunder boomed. Clancy scrambled under the log, wedging herself into the small, narrow space between rotting log and earth. She held her breath and waited.
A boulder cartwheeled over the top of the rotted log with a resounding thump, then crashed through the new pines below her and on down the mountainside to the rocky beach below. It was followed by the thud of boots on top of the hollow-sounding log. She could almost feel him standing up there, looking down the mountainside, looking for her. To finish the job?
Rain splattered on the ground next to her, large, hard drops that pummeled the earth. Clancy closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t come any farther down the mountainside. If he did, he’d surely see her and—She squeezed her eyes tighter, concentrating on Jake’s handsome face, the sound of that soft southern drawl, the feel of his arms wrapped around her. She prayed for Jake, clinging to the log and hope as she waited.
* * *
THE FIRST DROPS OF RAIN pelted down, angry and wet, as Jake would soon be. He told himself that when he found Clancy, he’d wring her neck. He’d bodily carry her to her aunt’s for safekeeping. He’d take her over his knee and—
The dirt bike. It took Jake a moment to realize why the sound had pulled him from his frenzied thoughts. Its engine. Revved to the max. He looked up to see the headlight coming out of the blackness of the storm. The light flickered wildly as the bike roared down the pine-lined trail. Jake had only a moment to realize its rider didn’t see him, couldn’t see him in the rain and the darkness. He leaped from the path as the bike sped past.
Jake watched it go, not surprised to see Liz Knowles on the back of the bike, her russet hair blowing in the wind.
He cursed the biker and his close call. Then he turned and headed down the trail, following the path he knew would take him directly to Clancy’s lodge. He hadn’t gone far when something glinted in the trail ahead.
Dread clamped down on his heart as he thought he recognized the object at the edge of the trail. His breath caught as he drew closer. A bicycle, broken and twisted. His legs forced him forward, his mind arguing it wasn’t Clancy’s. Couldn’t be hers. Clancy’s ruined bike lay mangled at the edge of the steep drop-off in the rain.