“Do you have a room available?”
“You’re in luck. We still have the suite available, even though Mr. Russo cancelled your second night.”
“He had reservations for two nights?”
“Yes, he said he couldn’t stay the second night because of business.”
Nan paid and then followed the porter to the suite. The room was cozy with warmth and someone had started a fire in the grate. After the man set her bags in the bedroom and left, she walked over to sit and stare into the fire. Why had Adam lied to her? He had led her to believe from the beginning the trip would be short and end after only one night. When she got back, she’d call and find out. Why? You aren’t going to be seeing him. He’d said he had important business that needed his attention. She sighed. Knowing wouldn’t change anything, so why bother?
Pulling her mind back to the important reason she was back in Keystone, she thought she’d better retire for the evening. She would need to get up early and find out the details of what had happened.
* * * *
“Hello, this is Nan Thomas. Is Charles Deveraux in?” she asked for the contact given to her. After a few minutes, a man answered the phone. She listened while he gave her the address where the children were waiting. The fire had been away from the town and she would need to travel to a farmhouse where a family took care of them.
Children were always frightened in situations like this. The loss of their parents could be devastating, but it was worse when they watched them die in a fire. She’d learned through years of experience what was needed to calm them and let them know she was there to help. She threw some essentials in a bag and left her suite. She stopped by the front desk on her way out.
“Hi, Cindy, do you think you could give me some directions?” she asked the receptionist at the desk who had introduced herself the day before.
“Sure, Ms. Thomas, let me see.”
“Thank you.”
Cindy bent her head over the paper she had handed her, and as she read, her brow wrinkled. “This is way out in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure this is the right address?”
“Yes, there was a fire and a nice family at that farmhouse is taking care of the children until I get there.” At the bewildered look on Cindy’s face, Nan explained what she did for orphans, finding them homes.
“I didn’t hear about a fire,” Cindy replied.
“You didn’t? Well, an agency for children’s welfare called me in on the case.”
“Maybe because it’s so far out, the story was put on the back page and I missed the article or something. I can send you in the right direction, but it’s in the middle of cornfields and the addresses aren’t really marked.”
Cindy drew a map for Nan, figuring that would be the easiest way to get her to where she needed to go. Nan thanked the girl and left. The hairs on the back of her neck were pricking, and she couldn’t shake the sense she was walking into something terrifying. Why hadn’t there been anything in the paper about the fire and why were the children being kept out in some god-forsaken farmhouse in the middle of cornfields? Well, she wouldn’t know the answers until she got there.
After twenty minutes of driving, following the map, she was indeed out in the middle of nowhere. As Cindy had promised, there were no addresses at all, and no sign of life anywhere. As far as the eye could see, only fields of corn waved in the slight breeze. Turning off the engine, she pushed the door open and climbed out of the car. Maybe if she stood she could see better.
Shading her eyes, she looked in all directions. In the distance there were some large machines, but that was all. Somewhere she remembered reading October was harvest time. Every way she looked, the same—nothing resembling a farmhouse. Regarding the map again, she confirmed this was the right road.
A buzzing caught her attention and she turned in time to see a plane coming toward her. No, it wasn’t coming toward her, it was swooping over her. Reaching for the handle of the car, she tugged. Before the door opened, a spray from the plane covered her.
Something sticky and very smelly blanketed her body. A gag bubbled up, and she covered her mouth with her hand, quelling the rising bile. Instead she bent at the waist and emptied her stomach. Shuddering, she leaned on the car for support to straighten and watch the old biplane fly away.
What on earth? They haven’t used planes like that since the fifties. What’s going on? She’d better get out of here. No telling if the plane would come back or not. She wasn’t about to stick around to find out.
Nan crawled back in the car wondering what the stuff was. Her stomach bubbled with nausea again. One thing for sure—her instincts of earlier had been correct. Someone had lured her to this spot. She drove back to the bed and breakfast as fast as she could, without attracting the attention of the highway patrol—she didn’t need a speeding ticket.
Back in her room, she showered in her clothes, not wanting to get the gook on anything. Leaving her outfit draped over the shower curtain to dry, she dressed in jeans and a sweater and then tried the number for the agency again.
This time, a woman told Nan she had no idea who Charles Deveraux was, that there was no one there by that name. And as far as the woman knew, no one had called her about a fire. In fact, to her knowledge, there hadn’t been a fire in the area. The woman asked her what time she had called that morning. Nan told her she had called early, about eight, and that she had called the night before and left a message.
She was informed the agency didn’t open until nine each morning, and they’d received the message but thought the caller had dialed the wrong number. Nan thanked the woman, apologized for bothering her, and hung up.
She walked over to the chair by the fireplace and sat down. Again, the question of what was going on crossed her mind. When the urgent call from the state agency had come to her, she hadn’t had time to check. Her brow wrinkled in thought. Had checking occurred to her? Since she’d thought the call had come from the South Dakota Division of Child Services, why would she?
Pondering what to do next, she remembered Adam asking her if she’d still wanted to take a trip with him. The newspaper had said two women had been murdered after spending the weekend with him. She had believed the tragedies to be coincidence. A chill ran down her spine—maybe they weren’t. Was someone trying to kill her? The sticky stuff dropped on her in the cornfields hadn’t harmed her though, it seemed more a prank than anything. She’d call Adam just in case.
The phone rang several times then went to voicemail. Great! She’d have to settle with leaving a very detailed message and hopefully Adam would know what to do.
Briefly, she thought of calling the police, then decided they’d think she was nuts. After all, she had washed all the damn evidence down the shower drain. There’d be no way to analyze the chemicals. Now she wished she’d gone straight to the police covered in the gunk the old-fashioned crop duster had sprayed on her.
Nan had done all she could. The evening stretched ahead of her. She didn’t want to sit alone with her thoughts. She might as well drive to the monument to spend more time at the museum. There hadn’t been time to appease her curiosity the day before when she’d been with Adam. They’d hurried so they wouldn’t miss the lighting ceremony.
She lost track of time as she browsed the exhibits she’d missed the previous day. Her stomach grumbled a reminder that it had been a while since she’d eaten. At least she was hungry and not nauseous. Her mouth watered thinking about the stew she’d shared with Adam yesterday. Making up her mind, she headed for the Buffalo Dining Room.
Even though she had to eat alone, the food had been just as tasty. Nan didn’t want to gain any extra pounds from the heavy carbs she’d consumed the past two days. Blue skies above afforded a beautiful view of the presidents’ faces. The presidential trail would be a perfect way to walk off the calories. According to the brochure, the path was the closest viewpoint of the faces.
Soon dusk would fall. Glancing at her watch, there was enough time
. She’d worn sturdy shoes. In her college days, she’d been in a hiking club. How she missed those days. She didn’t have time for hiking with her business. The trail wasn’t a hike by any stretch of the imagination, but the workout would feel good.
The sweet scent of the ponderosa pine trees that lined the trail reminded her of vanilla and butterscotch. She’d always loved the smell of the outdoors. At the end of the trail, she stretched and looked in every direction to enjoy the view. Not ready to go back yet, she breathed in the fresh air and took pleasure in her surroundings. Her hiking group had always said their weekend trips were communing with nature. Sadly, this was the first opportunity she’d had in a long time.
The sound of pebbles bouncing on the path startled Nan. She looked back, but no one was around. A chill ran up her spine. She rubbed her hands up her arms to warm herself. Untying the jacket from her waist, she slipped it over her shoulders.
After several minutes, no one joined her at the end of the trail. Looking around again, she shrugged. The sound must have been a small animal scurrying up the side of the mountain. She’d read that Ponderosa pines were a source of food for the squirrels and chipmunks.
Even with the happy thought about wildlife, an eerie feeling danced along her nerves and settled over her. The sun started to sink over the horizon. With a sigh, she realized if she didn’t want to follow the trail in the dark, it was time to go back to the center.
She turned on the path and froze. A hooded figure, dressed completely in black, blocked her way. The fading light reflected off a knife, or something that looked very close to one, in the stranger’s hand.
She rubbed damp palms down the front of her jeans, more to buy time and collect her thoughts about this unexpected threat than anything else. Her heart pounded an uneven rhythm against her ribs, and the chill turned to white-hot heat. She clenched her jaw, swallowed, and told herself to stay calm.
The hood obscured the face and Nan couldn’t tell if the person was a male or female. She took a reflexive step back and stumbled on the loose rock. Maniacal, high-pitched laughter floated toward her on the night breeze, sending another shudder up her spine.
“You’re not going back tonight, Ms. Thomas.” The figure’s voice had a singsong falsetto quality.
The person knew her name. Drums of pain pounded behind her eyes, until dots danced, obstructing her vision. A low hum started in her ears. She wasn’t sure if her shaking legs would hold her much longer. Pull yourself together, Nan.
“Who are you?” She meant to demand, but her words came out in a breathless whisper.
“I’m your worst nightmare. I tried to get you earlier in the plane, but that idiot misled me about the poison. You got the chemical washed off before the element had time to take effect.”
The voice grated, shredding her nerves. Nan clamped her lips together. Without turning her head, she tried to look around for an escape route. The monument was behind her, loose rocks littered the base, and the only way would be around the side. There were signs posted everywhere warning people not to venture off the path. The hooded figure didn’t give her a choice. Please God, let one of the park rangers notice her and come to investigate.
“Don’t even think about going around. You wouldn’t get very far. I’d be right behind you.” The unnaturally high voice sounded eerie in the growing darkness.
“Do you think I’m just going to stand here and let you come at me?” Nan asked incredulously, gaining some of her strength back. This was not the time to be timid. Anger fueled the heat that had started to boil through her body. How dare he?
“You have no choice. You stopped having choices the minute you said ‘yes’ to one of Mr. Russo’s famous weekends.”
“You’re the person who killed those other two women! Why?”
“Because he’s already taken, and I can’t have any of you getting your hooks into him,” the phantom said.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Then Nan realized the person behind the hood wasn’t exactly sane. She’d be better off trying to hike around the monument than standing here arguing with a mad person.
Nan quickly turned and raced off to the side of the mountain. The pounding of her heart matched the sound of her steps. She saw a ravine that led around the region of Washington’s bust. Before long she was climbing over boulders. Her anger fueled her adrenaline. She was up to the task. She kept herself in shape. Dislodged rocks followed in her wake. Hopefully they were raining over the monster behind her. But the prickles at the back of her neck told her he was close. Hopefully not gaining on her, though.
She paused a moment to catch her breath and looked back to locate the black figure. There had been no path, and luckily no one followed.
Fully dark now, and she was away from the light that illuminated the faces on the mountain. Her hopes of a ranger coming to her rescue dwindled. No one could see her. You’re made of stern stuff. You’ll get yourself out of this mess.
A hand on her shoulder startled a scream out of her. She turned and saw the gleam of metal coming toward her face. She jerked back, stuck her hands out, and shoved as hard as she could. The hooded figure stumbled back and fell off the boulder. Nan didn’t waste any time. With a deep breath, she scrambled toward the back of the monument.
The rustle of her pursuer dogged her steps. The creep was in better condition than she’d first thought, which gave her no time to stop and plan her escape. She couldn’t rest until she reached safety, away from the maniac trailing her.
Hours seemed to have passed while she’d been hiking and crawling up over dirt, boulders, and through the pines. Ponderosa would forever be associated with the horror in her mind. Reaching up, she grabbed an outcropping of rock. Muscles she never knew she had strained as she pulled herself up and over the summit. She was at the top of the monument. The view over the valley and the Black Hills area would have been something to behold, under other circumstances. Her pounding heart and labored breathing blocked any sounds of pursuit. She couldn’t continue. She had to rest. She glanced over the side and didn’t see the hooded figure. Where could he be?
From the opposite side of the rock bust, the sound of rocks sliding echoed through the night. She whirled to watch in horrified fascination as the figure climbed onto the plateau with her. She faced her worst nightmare on the head of Washington. She took two running steps toward Jefferson’s bust. Firm hands shoved, their imprints seemed to burn a hole in her back as her body rushed toward the edge. She dug her heels in, but her feet slid on the slick forehead of the great first president.
Her heart hammered in her chest. Her hands flailed, trying to grab and hold onto the surface. Anything to prevent her from disaster. She glanced down for an instant, then wished she hadn’t. God, this can’t be happening. She’d never survive if she couldn’t stop her fall.
Noise ceased. Time stood still. The only thing she could hear was the blood pounding through her veins, along with her labored breathing. She fought to find purchase, but as the seconds slowly passed, nothing stopped her steady descent down the smooth rock.
Suddenly there was nothing under her hands. She clawed at the air. Weightless, her body hurtled through the crisp night air. This is what a bird must feel like. Her head struck the ground and a piercing pain shot through to her toes. The world went black.
* * * *
“I just love that movie.” Katie sniffled into her tissue.
“My mom always loved a good tearjerker. Brigadoon is one of the best classics.” Adam stood and stretched. As much as he hated to leave, the hour was late and he wanted to be at the office early.
“You can’t leave yet.”
“I can’t?”
“No. We haven’t had those delicious pastries you brought for dessert.”
Adam had forgotten all about them. He walked into the kitchen with Katie and watched her grind the beans for the coffee. He remembered the plates were in the cupboard to the left, pulled two out, and placed a chocolate treat on each.
&nb
sp; “Let’s take our dessert back to the living room and relax while we indulge.” Katie didn’t wait for an answer, just led the way back to the couch.
Adam finished his last bite and looked over at Katie. He tried to stifle it, but the laugh escaped anyway. God, she was cute. She had chocolate on her nose. With the tip of his finger he reached over and wiped it off, then put the frosting to his lips. Before he could lick, Katie grabbed his wrist. She pulled his hand toward her own lips and gently licked off the sweet confection, then slowly put her mouth around his finger and sucked. Electrical bolts shot directly south, an instant reaction sprang. One he couldn’t hide.
He kept his eyes glued to Katie’s and placed his hand on the back of her neck, holding her while he leaned into her. He let his lips gently touch hers. Then he allowed his tongue to nudge them apart. Before the kiss could deepen, a ball of fur hurtled into the middle of the two. Adam let his hold slip and jumped back in surprise. Oscar sat innocently staring at Adam as if to ask what he thought he was doing with his mistress.
“Oscar!” Katie tried to move the mutt, but he wasn’t budging.
Laughing, Adam ruffled Oscar’s fur. The dog had saved the day. He wasn’t ready to take things where they had been headed. He needed to get home and get his traitorous body under control.
“I want to be in the office early, so I’ll see you in the morning, Katie.”
“Okay, do you need to call a cab?”
“No. I called Brady when I took Oscar out while we waited for the coffee to brew.”
“Oh, well I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Katie wondered what to do. Should she get up and go to the door with him, or sit there like a bump on the couch? She’d already been forward with the finger thing.
Adam solved the dilemma for her by telling her he could see himself out and she should stay put. Then he was gone and Katie stared at the door. After a few minutes passed, she got up and locked the deadbolts.
“Thanks a lot, Oscar.” She glared at the dog, but he ignored her and put his head on his paws.
Martinez, Mary - Classic Murder: Mr. Romance (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 18