Rose from the Grave

by Candace Murrow

  CHAPTER 20

  As the room brightened with morning light, Kat considered packing up and heading home, but with no sleep to speak of, tattered nerves, and a million questions bombarding her, she needed to stay put. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Chance Eliason.

  Tiger stretched and yawned, jumped off the couch, and wandered into the kitchen to munch on her kibble. When Kat opened the door, she didn't have to call Tiger's name twice before the kitten jetted outside.

  While Kat was in the bedroom dressing, she kicked the rug aside. The bloodstain was exactly where she'd discovered it. She hadn't imagined it. In the natural light the stain most definitely looked swirled and messy, as if someone had hastily tried to clean it up.

  She glanced at the foot of the bed. Brianna's ghost left a shuddering memory.

  She grabbed her purse with the intent of driving to Chance's house, but it was only seven o'clock. She lay on the sofa and dozed until a knocking woke her.

  She wasn't expecting anyone, unless Chance had read her mind. Though the way she'd distanced herself from him, it was unlikely he'd come around, uninvited.

  She opened the door, half expecting to see Chance, but staring back at her wide-eyed was Lenny Faulkes, dressed in baggy slacks and a pullover sweater. His lower lids hung like sagging drapes. He held up an envelope. "Sorry to intrude, Kaaat, but this came for Brianna."

  "Aren't you making your rounds a little early?" She was annoyed he'd even come to the house.

  "It's nine o'clock, Kaaat."

  She glanced at her watch. She'd napped two hours.

  "Oh, now Kaaat, I thought you might want this. I didn't know if you were coming to the post office, and this looks important." He shook the envelope. "Feels like it might be a check. In my business I would know these things. And isn't the return address interesting. Looks like it's from one of those filthy magazines. I wonder what business Brianna had with them."

  As if he didn't know. From Kat's discovery the night before, Brianna had received others in the mail. Kat snatched the envelope away. "Thank you for bringing it by, Mr. Faulkes."

  "Lenny."

  "There's no need for you to make special trips here."

  "Oh, I don't mind, Kaaat. It gets me out of the office, if you know what I mean." He glanced past her. "This is a nice old house. I used to stop by once in a while to bring Brianna's mail. I sure miss her. It's nice having you here, though. Makes the place seem alive again. It sure does. And oh, by the way, if you ever need any help with anything, anything at all, I'm available after hours."

  "I really don't," she said, "but did you ever come here to help Brianna?"

  "Oh no, I never did, although I offered many times." He clucked his tongue. "She always seemed occupied with that Tim Holmes. I never did see what she saw in him. He is such a bad man. I warned her about him. Are you sure I can't help you? I really don't mind. I always wanted to help Brianna. I just loved her, you know."

  Kat backed farther into the house. As she began inching the door closed, Tiger squeezed inside. "No, but thanks, again, Mr. Faulkes."

  "Lenny. Please, Kaaat, call me Lenny."

  She shut the door and peeled back the curtain to watch him leave. He sat in his car and stared at the garage a long while before finally driving away.

  She pet Tiger. "What a busybody and maybe just a little bit creepy." Tiger meowed.

  Kat opened the envelope. Lenny was wrong. It wasn't a check, just a letter, an interest in Brianna's work. She tossed the letter in the trash.

  "Well, I hate to do this to you again, but I have to leave the house. And you, my little friend, have to stay outside." She replenished the kitten's dish and left Tiger on the step, greedily gobbling her food.

  Before getting into her car, she looked in the garage, wondering what was so interesting to Lenny Faulkes. She yanked on the rope, knowing full well it wouldn't budge. The metal arm was kinked. It didn't make sense to her that anyone could suffocate from carbon monoxide with a door halfway closed. Add that to the list of unanswered questions.

  On the way to Chance's house, she rehearsed what she would say to him. In a very businesslike manner she would ask him to go out to breakfast with her. After all, she wanted to discuss Brianna, not give him any false hopes. He seemed bent on starting some kind of relationship with her, and she couldn't let that happen, could she? Would it hurt if she did?

  Lost in thought, she slowed near the turn-off, anxious about initiating anything with Chance, even an innocent meal. At the entrance to his private road was the dark blue sedan, the car she'd seen at Hank's. Her heart sank. On impulse, instead of turning in, she drove past his driveway and veered right at Pine Road, made a quick U-turn, and paused at the stop sign. As the blue car passed by, heading out of town, the woman in the black dress glanced Kat's way.

  It was obvious to Kat the woman had spent the night with Chance. What other conclusion could there be? Kat's instincts were right; she knew not to trust him that way. Her cheeks burned. Why did she even care who Chance slept with? She had no hold on the man.

  She was exhausted, bizarre things were happening to her, she had mounting questions about Brianna's death, and now this. She needed time to think. Tears came easily.

  She turned left toward town. As she approached Chance's road, Rusty was waiting to turn in and waved to her from his truck, but she had no inclination to wave back.

  Guided by a force propelling her forward, she bypassed Maple Lane, turned the corner into town, passed several parked cars, and swerved, just missing a pedestrian. Near Bertie's, Doug Jones stopped talking to another man and stared at Kat. Lenny Faulkes hailed her from the post office steps. She ignored his smiling face and continued on.

  Up the hill toward the cemetery, she had to brake to make the sharp curve. Sheriff Holmes's cruiser rounded the corner from the opposite direction. As their cars met, he slowed and motioned for her to stop. She wiped away the tears and rolled down her window.

  "Headed to the cemetery?"

  "I thought I would."

  His head bobbed, and he took his time to respond. "Heard you had a little talk with my son last night, accusing him of roughing up your sister."

  She gritted her teeth, held her tongue. She wanted to lash out, tell him how she felt about it, but lacked the energy to push back. "We had a discussion."

  He jabbed between his bottom front teeth with a toothpick. "You've been on Tim's case ever since you got here, seems to me. I thought you and I had a little talk about that a while back. What are you trying to manufacture here?"

  She fought the urge to argue with him. "Nothing, Sheriff. Nothing at all."

  "Okay, then. Let's not have this conversation again, you hear?"

  She kicked the car into gear and took the curve, glad to end the exchange and be out of his sight. After parking her car, she took a cleansing breath to forget about the sheriff and concentrated on her goal of visiting Brianna's grave.

  In Rosswood everything was old, including the local cemetery. Large granite headstones dated back to the late 1800s, the town's mining era. Part of the site was overgrown with weeds, but the newest graves were well cared for, the grass around them neatly mowed.

  A modest rectangular headstone in pink granite marked the gravesite with a rose engraved next to the B in Brianna's name. Lying above her name was a real rose, a long-stemmed white rose.

  Kat knelt and let the tears flow. Her chat with the sheriff seemed a million years away. "Was that really you last night, Brianna, or just my imagination? Ever since you died, you've been haunting me, pestering me. What do you want from me?"

  The wind kicked up, swirled in a whirlwind around her, then settled down again. Though the sun warmed her, she felt the gooseflesh rise.

  She touched the tender, velvety petals. The rose was fresh, recently purchased. She knew of no flower shops in Rosswood, but she could be wrong. Perhaps there was one in Benton. "At least someone in this town still cares about you. Maybe it's Chance."

  "I
wish I could say I'd been so thoughtful."

  She started at the sound of his voice. She'd been so focused, the noise of a vehicle's engine hadn't registered. She squinted against the sunlight but couldn't see his face. He grasped her shoulders and helped her to a standing position. She was angry, frustrated, but she couldn't stop the tears. He held her and let her cry. "I wasn't even here when they buried her, Chance. I was closing on a major deal that day. I just laid down the cash and bought her a burial. What kind of a sister am I?"

  He rubbed her back with reassuring strokes. "You did the best you could at the time. Maybe closing that deal was just a smokescreen. Maybe you couldn't face seeing her put into the ground."

  Kat sobbed until the sobs turned into sniffles. He handed her a handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. "It's all my fault, you know."

  He lifted her chin. "What's all your fault?"

  "I let her come here, and for all I know, someone murdered her."

  "Murdered her. Whatever gave you that idea? She died from carbon monoxide."

  "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "But how did you find me?"

  "Rusty saw you drive past the road about the time Monique left. He said you didn't look happy. I had a feeling why. You weren't home, so I drove through town. When I didn't see your car, I stopped in at the post office. Lenny said he saw you drive up the hill. I wanted to explain."

  "About the woman? There's nothing to explain. You have your own life." She twisted out of his hold and tromped down the cement path. The heel of her boot caught in a crack, and she tumbled to her knees. He was there to help her up. "Damn boots." She stepped forward, wobbled, and broke into tears again.

  He cradled her shoulder and guided her as she limped the rest of the way to her car. He opened the passenger door. "Get in. I'm taking you home to my house." When she tried to protest, he interrupted her. "After I look at that knee of yours and do some explaining, you can tell me about your murder theory."

  "What about your truck?"

  "Let me worry about that."

  CHAPTER 21

  Kat curved into the seat and let Chance take over. The fight in her had just about vanished. Until now she hadn't realized how tense and worn out she was, thinking about her sister's death. The guilt was also a constant burden, a weight she couldn't shake off.

  They arrived at his house in her SUV, and Kat didn't even stir when Zeke bounded up to the car barking. At the sight of Chance, he quieted down and wagged his tail.

  Chance opened the passenger door and ordered Zeke to stay back. Kat let Chance saddle an arm over her shoulder and escort her into the house with Zeke trailing along. Chance left Zeke outside.

  He sat her on the couch and handed her a throw blanket. "Scoot out of your jeans. I want to look at that knee." He unzipped and tugged off her boots. Without balking, she slung the blanket over her lap and winced as she slid denim over skin. With care he lifted her leg and folded the blanket above her knee. "Looks like the beginnings of an angry bruise. There's some scraping, but it's not too bad."

  "I'll be all right."

  "I know you will, but right now you need a little TLC. Stay right there." He walked down the hallway and turned in at the bathroom.

  To Kat, the blast of water in the bathtub was a comforting sound.

  He returned, the concern still etched on his face. "I've run a nice warm bath for you, something to soothe. Besides being distraught, you look like you haven't slept a wink."

  The image of the woman in the blue sedan popped into Kat's mind, and she couldn't hide the pout. "I could say the same about you, only you had someone to keep you company."

  "I'll save that explanation for later. Right now you need to relax."

  She shrugged an apathetic response. With the blanket draped around her, she followed him into the bathroom where he left her to soak in a lavender-scented bubble bath. She sank into the water. How she'd missed this simple pleasure.

  As heavenly as it was, she couldn't stop wondering if the woman in the black dress had lingered here, enjoying the same treatment as she. When he knocked on the door, she was still thinking about the mystery woman. "What do you want now?"

  Without asking, he cracked the door open partway, and she immediately sank farther under the blanket of bubbles. He kept his eyes askance, set a steaming cup of tea on the tub's ledge, and turned to go.

  "Is this how you treat all your women?"

  He faced her, his eyes boring into hers. "I think we'll have that talk now."

  The warmth in the room chilled. She sank even farther into the water, praying the bubbles would last through their conversation.

  "You want to know about the woman."

  Of course she wanted to know, but she wouldn't say it. She felt foolish because she had no right to ask. This man was driving her crazy.

  "Her name is Monique. I've known her for years. We used to work together, but I can't say any more about the work we did." He paused. "Yesterday she showed up unannounced and uninvited."

  "Did you sleep with her?" Kat blurted and felt foolish again, like a jealous teen.

  He ran a hand over his mouth and chin, pausing a little too long for her liking. "It's not what you're implying."

  Somehow she wasn't reassured. She lay back and closed her eyes, too exhausted to think of a slick comeback. The latch clicked shut.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the water was lukewarm. No one else was in the room, thank goodness, since all the bubbles had evaporated, leaving her naked body completely exposed.

  She emerged from the bathroom in her shirt and underwear, the blanket slung around her middle and the teacup in one hand. She traipsed into the living room in search of her jeans.

  Chance was sitting on the couch with his neck cranked back, his jaw slack and his lips parted. When she set the cup on the coffee table, his eyes shot open.

  "Thanks for the tea," she said. "I think I slept a little. I'll just get my jeans and dress in the other room."

  He caught her arm and drew her down on the couch. "We need to talk."

  "I thought we did."

  "You know what I mean."

  Her blink of a nap hadn't erased the drain of the preceding night, and she wasn't in an argumentative mood, but she sat a comfortable distance away from him. "So, go ahead and talk. I'm listening."

  "Are you?"

  "I said I am."

  He sighed in frustration. "I can't tell you any more about Monique because then I would have to explain my past, and if I did that, I might jeopardize my life and perhaps yours. Do you understand?"

  "You're being vague and just a little dramatic."

  "You're going to have to trust me."

  How could she trust him? "Were you lovers?"

  "Before I moved here," he said. "But I'm going to be honest with you. We met in Seattle once and spent a night together for old time's sake. I wasn't involved with anyone back then, and this time she wasn't welcome here."

  "You're involved with someone now?" She knew it.

  "Just hear me out," he said. "Monique and I slept in the same bed, because after I put her in the guest room, I caught her snooping through my personal effects. I didn't want her out of my sight, but I never touched her in a sexual way. I hardly slept. I had to stay vigilant."

  "That sounds like such a crock. A woman like that in your bed and you wouldn't at least want to gratify yourself?"

  "There's only one woman I want, Kat, and that's you."

  Kat hugged the blanket to her body. Her head spun with the question of trusting Chance, plus her own issue of letting go. "Why didn't you send her away?"

  "Because she suffers from night blindness. It was too late."

  "How convenient. What about the motel?"

  "I made an error in judgment," he said. "I put her in the spare room and figured she'd be gone in the morning, no problem. But she wandered into my study to gather information. She lied to me about the real reason for her visit. I can't explain more than tha
t."

  "Right. Secrets and more secrets. Why should I even believe you?"

  "I care about you, Kat. You're the first woman in a very long time that I've seriously been attracted to in this way. I'd at least like to explore these feelings with you and see where they lead."

  "You don't even know me that well."

  "I know you better than you think I do. Remember, I spent a lot of time with your sister."

  "She and I are nothing alike."

  "You may have gone down different paths," he said, "but there's one thing you have in common. Brianna may have had her problems, but underneath it all she had a heart of gold. I could tell by the tender way she cared for the animals. And under all that bluster of yours, you do, too."

  "Sure I do. Look how I treated my own sister."

  "Those tears you shed at the cemetery were enough to convince me you cared deeply about her, more than you let on."

  She did care about Brianna, but caring about her hadn't changed anything. "Chance, I learned something about her that I could never have imagined her capable of. And it has to be my fault. I never should have let her leave Seattle and her support group." Kat's throat thickened. To maintain control, she took in a breath, but she couldn't stop the tears.

  He moved closer and settled his arm over her shoulder. "You're exhausted, Kat. Let me put you to bed."

  She sniffed and snorted, trying to gather her composure. She was too worn out to think.

  "Come on. Sleep will do you good." He helped her to her feet, and she dragged the blanket around her.

  He put her to bed in his room, a room with clean sheets, totally aired out of another woman's scent. With the blanket clinging to her, she slipped under the covers. She didn't fight Chance, but she fought sleep, waiting for him to leave. But he stayed close. Before she faded into sleep, she heard his soft snores.

  * * *

  Chance woke first. It was still light outside, but the braying burros alerted him to the time of day. In a minute they'd quiet down since Rusty would be tending to their dinner. He and Kat had slept all afternoon into the early evening. He hoped the animals wouldn't wake her. He wanted to keep her here as long as possible, hoping she would spend the night. He rolled onto his side, facing her, and ran his palm lightly down her arm. He could get used to this.