She wheeled herself into the bathroom. Foolish thoughts from a foolish mind, she told herself. It took her only minutes to scrub her face and brush her teeth. Then she whirled her wheelchair around to reach for the nightgown and robe that she always kept on a hook on the back of her bathroom door. Neither were there.
She frowned at the empty hook. What was going on? Part of the way she functioned independently was by being a creature of habit, by having a place for everything and everything in its place.
So where were her robe and nightgown? She gazed around the bathroom in stunned disbelief. Tilly hadn’t been in to take them off the hook for laundering. Just like she hadn’t been there that day to move the teakettle, Melanie reminded herself.
She wheeled herself out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom, feeling as if she was losing her mind. She always hung her night things on that hook. So why weren’t they there?
She spied her nightgown, a blue puddle on the floor, next to the chair that sat by the window. She wheeled over and picked it up. A few minutes later she found her robe hanging on a hanger in her clothes closet.
Returning the robe to the hook in the bathroom, she wondered if she was going crazy. Had she tossed her nightgown toward the chair that morning, when she’d dressed? She certainly didn’t remember doing it, just like she didn’t remember hanging her robe up in the closet.
But nobody else had been in her bedroom all day. She must have done it. As she climbed into bed, her heart beat an unsteady rhythm.
Was it possible that the malfunction in her leg had more far-reaching consequences than she’d initially thought? Was it possible that the neuropathy wasn’t just in her leg but was somehow worming its way into her brain? It was a frightening thought that kept her awake deep into the night.
* * *
Adam awakened the next morning with the decision to go ahead and put the railings up on the ramp he’d built. The railings would make the ramp safer for Melanie if she decided to use it alone and he was encouraged by the fact that she’d already used it once to go to the Cowboy Café with him.
The night before had been magical. Melanie had appeared more relaxed than he’d ever seen her and he’d loved the sound of her laughter as the evening progressed.
As he showered, he tried to focus on the task ahead rather than think about her. He didn’t want to overanalyze things. Last night she’d been open and fun, but he also knew that she could just as easily go back to isolating herself.
One day at a time, he told himself as he got dressed for the day. Although he recognized that his feelings for her deepened each minute they spent together, he also recognized that ultimately he was her tenant, not her boyfriend.
He was vaguely disappointed when he went down to the kitchen and found that the coffee had been made but there was no sign of Melanie and her bedroom door was closed.
Maybe she’d made the coffee and then returned to her room to get dressed for the day. He poured himself a cup and carried it to the table and sat, his mind working to make a mental list of the supplies he’d need to buy for the railings on the ramp.
By the time he’d finished his second cup of coffee, he realized Melanie didn’t appear to be inclined to make a morning appearance. He rinsed out his cup and placed it in the dishwasher, then grabbed his hat and headed out the front door.
The early morning sun was unusually warm on his shoulders as he headed to his truck. It was going to be a perfect day to do a little carpentry work outside.
He couldn’t help that his thoughts went back to Melanie as he drove to the lumber store. Last night it had felt so right, cooking with her, eating across from her and then later talking and laughing together.
He felt as if he were walking a tightrope where she was concerned. He didn’t want to screw up his living arrangement but he also wasn’t satisfied just being her tenant.
He had to allow her to take the lead, and for the first time in his life Adam wished he were the one in control, wished he held all the cards in what might come next between him and his lovely landlady.
He parked in the lumber store parking lot and got out of the truck, eager to get the required materials and get started on his task.
As he headed inside, he saw Thomas Manning just ahead of him. “Tom,” he shouted in greeting.
The tall, thin man turned around and offered Adam a pleasant smile. “Hi, Adam.”
“Got a project planned?” Adam asked as the two went through the front door of the store together. He looked at Thomas curiously. Although he was pleasant enough, he stayed to himself, even when dining at the café.
“Not a project. Just some handyman things that need to be taken care of around the house,” Thomas replied. “What about you?”
“Have a little outdoor project to complete and figured I’d better get it done before the weather turns,” Adam replied.
“Definitely nice weather for anything outside,” Thomas agreed.
The men parted ways as Thomas headed for the hardware section of the store and Adam went toward the lumber. As he picked up the items he’d need to build the railings, his thoughts lingered on Thomas.
Adam had never heard much about the man. Nobody seemed to know what he did for a living, and he was rarely seen outside his house unless he was dining at the Cowboy Café. He lived alone and seemed to like it that way.
He wondered if Cameron had thoroughly checked out his background. The murders of the two waitresses hadn’t occurred until after Thomas had moved to town.
He frowned and told himself he was certain that Cameron was on top of things and everyone in the entire town had come under close scrutiny after the murders.
It was almost ten by the time he got back to Melanie’s.
He’d just started unloading the lumber when Kevin
Naperson came walking toward him.
“Whatever you’re doing, I’d be glad to help for a little cash,” Kevin said.
Adam’s first instinct was to tell the kid no, that he didn’t need any help. But Kevin looked so eager and Adam knew he’d had a tough time since the death of his girlfriend, Candy, especially since he’d initially been Cameron’s number one suspect in the murder.
“Never mind,” Kevin said, as if he could feel Adam’s hesitation. “I guess if I’m going to find work, I’m going to have to leave town.” He started to walk past, but Adam stopped him.
He offered the kid a fair wage for helping with the railings and together they got to work.
“Life been tough?” Adam asked as they unloaded the lumber from the back of the truck.
“You have no idea,” Kevin replied. “I mean, at first I understood why I was a suspect in Candy’s murder. I was her boyfriend, we’d had a fight at the Corral that night and I was the last person to see her alive. But everyone forgot somehow that she was my girlfriend, that I was crazy about her, and I didn’t even get a chance to feel bad about her death before everyone came at me, believing I killed her.”
“And you didn’t.” Adam made it more of a statement than a question.
“Candy and I had our issues, but I loved her. I would have never hurt her, but half the people in this town still look at me like I’m some crazed madman.”
Adam remembered how he had felt in the weeks following Sam’s arrest, as if everyone was staring at him, as if he was responsible for Sam’s actions.
Cameron had never been able to tie Kevin to either Candy’s murder or Shirley’s and there was something in the young man’s eyes that made Adam believe he was innocent.
It took nearly two hours to get the railings up, and during that time the more Adam talked with Kevin, the more convinced he was that he was yet another victim of the killer. Kevin was virtually an outcast in his hometown just because he’d fallen in love with a young woman who’d been murdered.
Finished with the job, Adam went inside to get some lunch. He found Melanie seated at the table.
“I saw that you put up the railings on the ramp,” she said in
greeting. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“No thanks necessary,” he replied. It took him only a minute to read her mood. Withdrawn, distracted. He sank down in a chair across the table from her. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she replied, although neither the tone of her voice nor the shadows in her eyes convinced him. “Wasn’t that Kevin Naperson out there helping you?”
“Yeah. I kind of feel sorry for the kid. He seems kind of lost and he told me he feels like everyone in town has turned their backs on him.”
“From what you told me, he was a major suspect in the murders. What’s your gut instinct about him, Sherlock?” Although she said the words teasingly, the shadows in her eyes didn’t lift.
“Actually, my gut instinct is that he didn’t have anything to do with the murders, but for all I know, he pulls the legs off puppy dogs in his spare time and is a sadistic killer.”
“That’s a cheerful thought,” she replied dryly.
“Speaking of cheerful, you don’t look so happy today.”
She leaned back in her chair and raked a hand through her hair. “I guess I’m battling a little absentmindedness. The teakettle wasn’t where it belonged again this morning, and it took me forever to find my favorite tea, which is usually right next to the kettle. I finally found the tea bags in the refrigerator.” She shrugged and gave him a rueful smile. “A mind is a terrible thing to lose.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just a temporary thing.” He fought the impulse to lean across the table, to cover her hand with his. There was something about her posture, about the set of her shoulders that warned him to do so would be a mistake.
It wasn’t until much later that night that Adam realized that talking to Kevin, letting the young man work on the railings with him might have been a mistake.
If Kevin was the person who had killed two helpless women in Grady Gulch, then by allowing him to help with the ramp, Adam had drawn his attention to the fact that inside the house was another woman who might be an easy target.
Chapter 7
Melanie awakened slightly cranky and more than a little bit groggy the next morning. She’d had a bad night with her leg. The pain had been unrelenting and she’d finally broken down and taken not only one, but two of the pain pills to gain some relief.
What she had gotten was some easing of the pain in exchange for horrible nightmares. She’d dreamed of slashing knifes and being chased down a dark street in her wheelchair. But the most disturbing had been her dreams of dancing puppets with broken legs and ballerinas leaping off cliffs.
The morning sun had been a welcome sight and after a long, hot shower some of the grogginess had been sloughed away. She’d dressed and gone straight into the kitchen, where gratefully she found her teakettle and tea just where they were supposed to be.
As she sat at the table and enjoyed a hot cup of the plum-flavored tea, which was her favorite, she thought about the crazy events of the day before.
Maybe it was just a case of her being distracted. She hadn’t been paying attention to where she was putting things. And her distraction had a name—Adam.
The man invaded her thoughts no matter what she was doing, making it difficult for her to concentrate on anything. She found herself alternating between wanting to run to him and to run away, seek out his company and isolate herself from him.
He had her topsy-turvy with warring emotions and she didn’t seem to be able to gain control of them. She told herself she wanted nothing more than a friendly landlord-tenant relationship, but when his lips curved up in one of his sexy smiles, when his eyes took on that delightful twinkle, she wanted more.
Was it any wonder she was putting things in the wrong places and feeling like she was losing her mind? It was his fault for being so darned sexy.
She took a sip of her tea and stared out the window, grateful to have a few minutes alone before he made his morning appearance. He filled the room when he entered it, bringing with him that male vitality, that familiar scent that stirred her on a decidedly pleasant level.
Drat the man, anyway, she thought crossly. It would have been easier had he been a drunk with bad manners who had to be tossed out on his ear.
She glanced at the clock and realized it was after nine. Adam was either sleeping really late or he had gotten up very early and had left the house. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left. She knew he occasionally got up early and headed for the ranch to eat breakfast with his brother’s family.
Tilly called to tell her that she wouldn’t be over that day and Melanie assured her she’d be fine on her own. Grabbing her sketch pad from the bedroom, Melanie returned to the kitchen, deciding that a bit of drawing would keep her mind occupied.
She stopped at noon and made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then returned to her sketching, happy to lose herself in her own little world without thoughts of Adam or her absentmindedness to intrude.
The next time she looked up from her work was when she heard the door open and close and realized Adam must have returned home. She was stunned to realize it was almost five o’clock. She’d spent the entire day at the kitchen table.
“Hi,” she greeted him as he entered the kitchen. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah, I went out to the ranch and helped Nick with some fencing that needed to be repaired.” His eyes were dark, cautious. “How about you? How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Why?”
“I just wondered if maybe you were still in the midst of the temper tantrum you must have had last night, after I went to bed.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Temper tantrum? What are you talking about?”
“The pictures in the living room.” There was an edge of tension wafting off him.
“What about them?”
“The glass is broken in all of them. Didn’t you see them?” He frowned at her.
“No, I haven’t been in the living room today.” And the truth was she consciously didn’t look at the pictures of herself dancing whenever she was in that room. It hurt too much.
She now wheeled past him into the living room, and as she looked at the wall of photos, her breath caught painfully in her chest. The covering glass on each and every photo either had been broken, leaving the picture still intact, or had shattered and fallen to the floor. Some of the shards sparkled on the floor in the late afternoon sunshine drifting through the window.
She was aware of Adam standing at the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. “They were like this when I got up this morning,” he said. “I just assumed you’d gotten angry or hit a depressive low or something and did it sometime in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t do this,” she said, although it was more of a question than a statement. She remembered her disturbing dreams of the night before.
“I certainly didn’t do it,” he replied with a hint of indignation in his tone.
“And you didn’t use my teakettle and put it away in one of the upper cabinets?” she asked, her mind whirling with horrible suppositions.
“No.”
She stared at the broken glass, her heart beating a frantic rhythm. Was it possible she’d gotten up in the middle of the night, slid into her wheelchair and come in here to destroy the pictures?
Was it possible she herself had placed the teakettle in the upper cabinet? That she’d hung her robe in the closet and thrown her nightgown on the chair? She certainly didn’t remember doing any of those things, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t done them.
The idea that anyone else had somehow come into the house to break the pictures or hide her teakettle was ludicrous and she knew by the perplexed expression on Adam’s face that he wasn’t responsible for the mess.
That left only her. Had the pain pills addled her mind so much that she had attempted to destroy the physical evidence of who, of what she’d once been? Of who she would never be again?
She wrapped her arms around her shoulders to stanch the chill that threatened to suffuse her. She’d written it all off to the fact that she’d been distracted, but now she had to face a new possibility.
Maybe she was going insane.
* * *
It was almost two hours later that Adam sat across from Melanie at the kitchen table. He’d cleaned up the glass mess in the living room while she’d fixed a pot of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.
They had spoken very little while they’d each gone about their separate tasks. He’d been concerned when he’d left that morning after seeing the glass all broken, but afraid of stepping over the line, especially since the kiss, he’d left without checking in on her. He’d reminded himself that what she did in her own home was really none of his business, but he’d definitely been unsettled by what he’d seen.
He had spent most of the morning helping out Nick and then had gone to the sheriff’s office and talked to Cameron about what he needed to do to become a deputy for the town. He was surprised to learn that all he needed was to be over the age of twenty-one, have no criminal past and a valid driver’s license.
He’d filled out an application, and Cameron had told him he’d put it on file as at the moment Cameron had a full force and no funds to hire any more deputies.
In the meantime he’d suggested that Adam take a few courses in criminal justice at the community college and spend as much time as possible at the firing range on the outskirts of town.
But as he now sat across from Melanie, the events of his own day were the last things on his mind. He wished he knew her well enough to read her mind, to know what words would take the darkness away from her eyes.
They ate in an awkward silence, the only sound the scrape of their spoons against their bowls as they ate the warm soup. He had so many questions about what had happened the night before. He finally couldn’t stand it any longer. He set his spoon down and gazed at her.
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