by Laurie Paige
Twelve
Hope spotted Meg as soon as she entered the Hip Hop. Meg saw her, too, and motioned for her to join her and two other women at a table. Hope recognized Lily Mae Wheeler, widow—also divorcée, although Lily Mae didn’t mention that often—and the main branch of the town grapevine. The other woman was Winona Cobbs, who ran a junk shop called the Stop-n-Swap. Winona was the local psychic.
Forcing a smile, Hope joined the three women. After ordering elk hash, the usual Tuesday special, she asked after her favorite person. “How’s Gabe? Did that other tooth come in?”
“Yes. He’s fine. Jordan is teaching him to play checkers.” Meg rolled her eyes, then grinned. As if seeing the worry in Hope’s eyes, Meg added, “He’s really wonderful with Gabe. And to me.”
Hope nodded. Maybe her father was truly in love with Meg. Maybe he would marry her and start a new life apart from Baxter Development Corporation and the lawsuit. If that happened, she could leave with a clear conscience…
Stunned at the thought, she lost track of the conversation while she tried to figure out what she meant. Was she going to leave Whitehorn or just Baxter Development? Perhaps she would open her own office. The possibilities suddenly seemed endless.
Would she, could she, go to Collin? Or were his words but empty promises, used to gain her trust as her father so contemptuously told her.
She bit her lip against a sigh of longing. Saturday seemed so long ago. Three days. Forever.
When she was with Collin, it was easy to believe everything he said and all it implied. In his arms, she dreamed impossible things. That they could marry and have beautiful, inquisitive little boys like Gabe. That her father would forget his grudge against the Kincaids. That they could be one big happy family…
“I say he’s guilty as sin,” Lily Mae said emphatically.
Hope, jarred out of her introspection, looked at Meg inquiringly.
“Gavin Nighthawk,” Meg explained.
The scandal surrounding the trial had replaced the feud between the Baxters and Kincaids as the main topic of conversation among the local population.
“He’s innocent,” Winona stated.
“I guess you got one of your vibes,” Lily Mae said, looking disgruntled at being contradicted.
Winona smiled and tucked a silver strand of hair back into the coronet of braids forming a halo around her face. Turquoise earrings brought out the pale blue of her eyes. “I think he’s telling the truth. It’s just a feeling, but very strong. Crystal thinks so, too.”
Winona was probably in her seventies, a mysterious little woman who caused as much speculation and disagreement among the townsfolk with her “visions” as the murder trial was doing. Her niece, Crystal, had caused some consternation among the local police when it was discovered she had used her psychic abilities to help Sloan Ravencrest, one of the investigating officers in the case. It was Crystal whose vision, insight, or whatever one might call it, had helped Sloan find Christina’s body.
“Winona was right about the baby being alive and well,” Meg reminded Lily Mae.
“The evidence points conclusively to Dr. Nighthawk,” Lily Mae insisted. “Baby Alyssa was proven by DNA testing to be Gavin’s child. She mysteriously appeared at her aunt Rachel’s house with a note to take care of her until the father could come for her. That note was written by Gavin. He’s confessed to everything but the murder, including being in the woods with her and delivering the baby.”
“But,” Hope said, “there’s one other person not accounted for.”
The three women looked at her.
“The twin. Emma’s twin.”
“Huh,” Lily Mae snorted. “If there is such a person.”
“There is,” Winona said.
Hope nodded. “There has to be. The DNA tests comparing Emma’s gene profile to that of the person whose blood was found on Christina could only come from an identical twin.”
“So where is this twin? And why haven’t we noticed her walking around town, looking exactly like the Stover girl?” Lily Mae demanded, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
That was the question the newspaper articles had asked over and over. No one had an answer. The fact that a woman had been present sometime shortly before or during Christina’s ordeal didn’t prove the woman had killed her. That was why the police had gone ahead and arrested Gavin on circumstantial evidence.
“You’re an attorney,” Lily Mae continued. “What’s your take on the situation?”
“The evidence against Dr. Nighthawk is strong,” Hope admitted. “He had opportunity. He certainly had motive.”
“Christina was foolish to meet him in the woods,” Lily Mae asserted. “When she confronted him with her pregnancy, he probably lost his head. Maybe she demanded marriage or a lot of money so she could leave town. She knew her father would kill her—”
Hope smiled grimly when Lily Mae broke off, realizing where her runaway tongue was taking her.
“Another suspect?” Hope suggested. “Her father found out she was pregnant and, in a fury, hit her, causing her death? He then took the body to the woods and dumped it?”
“But she wasn’t dead,” Meg said, taking up Hope’s scenario. “Gavin found her and delivered the baby, took it to Lettie Brownbear, then returned. But Christina had encountered someone else, fought with him, or her, and been killed by having a rock bashed through her skull, according to reports leaked to the newspaper. How gruesome,” she said with a shudder.
“Ellis Montgomery would have been furious and upset, but he wouldn’t have hurt his youngest child,” Winona said. “But neither would Gavin Nighthawk kill anyone. He’s taking the blame for someone else.”
“Tangled webs,” Hope murmured. “This is one of the most complicated cases I’ve ever seen. We’ll have to wait and see what additional evidence is revealed in court.”
While her own life seemed mixed up beyond resolution, at least no one had murdered anyone. Yet.
She forced down her qualms about the upcoming hearing on her father’s suit. She and Kurt would be facing off with Ross Garrison who was getting advice from Elizabeth Gardener. Gardener had also been hired by Garrett Kincaid to defend Gavin Nighthawk at the urging of Summer Kincaid, Collin’s cousin.
Hope didn’t know why the famous criminal attorney had actually taken the small-town doctor’s case, but chalked it up to the Kincaid powers of persuasion.
Thinking of Saturday and how she’d gone off alone with Collin, she worried that she had allowed herself to be seduced by that same charm—not to mention the sizzling passion between them—and the seeming sincerity of Collin’s words and manner.
The psychic, seated to the left of Hope, suddenly reached over and laid her hand lightly on Hope’s arm. Hope started, then moved her arm.
“Wait,” Winona requested. She closed her eyes and touched Hope again.
“She’s getting something,” Lily Mae said sotto voce, very seriously. “Be still.”
The hairs rose on Hope’s neck, but she didn’t move. Meg and Lily Mae watched Winona with varying expressions of curiosity and interest. Hope studied the psychic with something akin to fear stirring inside her.
“Take nothing at face value,” Winona said just then, as if confirming Hope should be worried about the situation between her and Collin.
“I don’t—”
Winona opened her eyes and looked directly at Hope. “Believe half of what you see and nothing of what you hear,” she said, breaking into Hope’s reply.
Hope’s heart began a loud, insistent pounding. “What do you mean?”
Winona shook her head. “I don’t know. I only know that’s a message for you. You’ll have to interpret it according to what is happening in your life.”
“It’s something to do with the Baxter lawsuit against the Kincaids,” Lily Mae said, butting in with her own interpretation of the psychic’s message.
“Maybe.” Winona gazed thoughtfully at Hope. “No, I think it’s personal. Or maybe both
.”
Everyone knew of the lawsuit, but Hope wondered if Winona knew she was personally involved with Collin. She sighed. There was no use dwelling on the situation. It only made her head hurt and her heart ache.
“Follow your heart,” Meg said suddenly. “I’m trying to get Jordan to listen to his.”
“Any success?” Hope asked, and couldn’t help the cynical doubt from coming through.
Meg’s eyes were kind. “I hope so.” She suddenly laughed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a lot tougher than your father. When I get through with him, he won’t know whether he’s coming or going.”
Amazed, Hope could only stare while Lily Mae and Winona laughed uproariously at the outrageous statement.
After the luncheon, Hope returned to her office with the psychic’s advice playing over and over in her mind.
Take nothing at face value. Believe half of what you see and nothing of what you hear.
What did those words mean to her?
Nothing, Hope concluded at seven that evening while she stretched her weary back. They were old clichés, easy to dispense as if they had deep meaning. That was the ploy fortune-tellers used on clients, who then applied the sayings to their own lives as though the psychic were astute.
Leaving her office, she headed for the ladies’ room before returning to burn the midnight oil. She had a lot of work to do before she left for the evening.
Passing by Kurt’s door, which was ajar, she wondered if she should have accepted his offer of dinner. She needed a distraction. She’d been restless and unable to sleep well since Saturday.
Heat spread through her in torrid waves as she recalled the interlude with Collin. And that Kurt had seen them upon their return to town. Apparently he hadn’t told her father. At any rate, Jordan hadn’t berated her for seeing Collin again, so she assumed he didn’t know.
A few steps past Kurt’s door, she came to a halt, her heart pounding. She listened intently. Nothing.
Odd, but she thought she’d heard Collin’s voice in the other attorney’s office. Hearing nothing else, she walked on, blaming her overactive imagination. She returned to her tasks.
At nine Kurt stopped by and told her good-night. “You’re working too hard,” he scolded, his expression concerned.
“I’ll be finished soon. See you in the morning.” She smiled until he withdrew, then leaned back in the chair and, swiveling, observed the night sky.
The wind was blowing from the south, bringing clouds from the Beartooth Pass. She felt the loneliness of winter creeping across the land. And into her heart.
At midnight, she locked her desk and hurried out of the office. Taking the steps rather than the elevator to the ground floor, she thought of the odd incident earlier when she’d thought she’d heard Collin’s voice inside Kurt’s office. She stopped on the second floor.
Believe half of what you see and nothing of what you hear.
What did that mean to her? There was only one point of controversy in her life involving aural evidence—the tape her father had played of Collin and his grandfather planning their strategy on the lawsuit and using her in their plans.
Thoughtfully, she retraced her steps. Going to her father’s office, she unlocked it and went inside. A minute later, master keys in hand, she opened the door to Kurt’s office. Going in, she closed the door behind her and flipped on the light. The cleaning service wouldn’t disturb anyone working late.
She briefly examined the desk and credenza. No, not there. An elaborate bookcase was built along one side of the room. She tried keys she found in the desk until the locked cabinet door of the bookcase opened.
Inside she found an expensive tape-to-tape system. Tapes were filed neatly beneath it. She turned the unit on, read through the tapes and played parts of several. Reviewing the titles again, she frowned in frustration. Apparently she was wrong in the suspicion she’d entertained about Kurt.
She started to close the cabinet. One tape labeled Christmas Party caught her eye. Kurt Peters was not what she would call a sentimental person. Why would he make, much less keep, a tape of the company Christmas feast?
What if it was a tape of another party, a private orgy from the holidays?
Feeling only slightly foolish and guilty for intruding into what might be embarrassing situations, she put in the tape and pressed the Play button.
Collin’s voice came eerily through the speakers. His grandfather answered a question, then asked one. They discussed the roundup at the Elk Springs ranch, then the happenings with the family members in Whitehorn.
The tape was three hours long. She listened to every word of illegally taped conversation between Collin and his grandfather. She realized one or the other of the two men was speaking from a cell phone each time.
Looking at the equipment secreted behind the cabinet door, she realized one of the pieces was a radio receiver, the kind people used to listen in on police calls. She also recognized the conversations that had been used to piece together the tape her father had played for her.
None of the conversations referred to her, except one regarding a change of venue in the lawsuit. Just as Collin had said.
Her father had lied.
She had trusted him all her life, believed every word he’d told her. And he had lied.
She had denied the man who loved her in favor of her father. And he had lied.
Ice encased her heart as, her hands trembling, she removed the tape and put it in her briefcase. After locking up, she checked her watch.
It was almost four in the morning. She had time for a shower and meal, time to compose her questions, before meeting with her father in his office at seven. She would invite Kurt to the meeting.
No. She wanted to see her father alone. And there was only one question, really.
“Jordan is ready to see you,” her father’s secretary informed her at two minutes after seven.
“Thank you.”
Hope hung up the phone and picked up her briefcase. She walked down the hall and entered the CEO’s outer office.
“Would you like some coffee?” the secretary asked, giving her a welcoming smile.
“No, thanks.” In the past three hours she’d had enough caffeine to keep her awake for a week. “Good morning, Father,” she said upon entering his office. She made sure the door closed completely behind her.
He nodded to her, finished reading a report and laid the paper on his desk. “You were in early this morning,” he said, approval in his voice and smile.
“Yes.” She removed a portable tape player from the briefcase and placed it on a side table. After plugging it into a wall socket, she turned to him. “I have something you might be interested in.”
She’d already set the tape to the sections she was interested in. She pushed the Play button. Collin and his grandfather held their conversation about a birthday present for Collin’s sister, a filly Collin was training. They then discussed the price of beef and other ranching interests and hung up.
“Notice that neither my name nor the lawsuit was mentioned once,” she said.
She fast-forwarded to another section. During a fifteen-minute conversation of Kincaid affairs, the possible change of venue was mentioned only at the end. Garrett referred to her as the “young lawyer gal” but there was nothing deprecating in his tone. She played a couple of other sections that didn’t mention her at all.
“Here’s the last one,” she said, clicking the tape on when her father stirred restlessly.
“I don’t want to see you hurt, boy,” Garrett said.
“I’m okay,” Collin replied. “I’ll be in Whitehorn in another hour. Who’s at the ranch this weekend?”
Garrett ignored the change of subject. “If you love that little gal, you’d better go after her.”
“She has to come to me. I’ve told her how I feel.”
Hope flinched at the bitterness in his quiet voice. It hurt her someplace deep inside.
“Tell her again,” his grandfather u
rged. “Women get strange notions when left on their own.”
“Or when they’re lied to by the person they trust above all others,” Hope said into the silence at the end of the recorded conversation. She looked at her father. “Why?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It was for your own good, bumpkins. I saw you falling under the Kincaid spell. I couldn’t let you be taken in that way.”
Fury shook her from her head to her toes. “You wanted me taken in by you, by your lies. I should turn you and your faithful partner-in-crime over to the district attorney.”
Her father had the grace to blush. “Leave Kurt out of this. He did me a favor by recording those conversations.”
“They were all innocent. He doctored the tape to make it sound as if they planned to use me. Did you know that when you played it to me?”
“Not then,” he admitted. “Later I figured it out.”
“But you didn’t bother to tell me.”
She packed up the tape, retrieved the doctored one and put them both in her briefcase. She headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” her father asked warily.
“To Collin. I’m going to ask his forgiveness for doubting him. On my knees, if necessary. Then, if he loves me as much as I love him, I’m going to ask him to marry me. I want children, Father, his children, and a life with him. If he’ll have me.”
Jordan flushed a dangerous red. “You go to him and you’re out of here. No position. No inheritance. Nothing.”
She gave him a pitying glance as she opened the door. “There’s nothing for me here. There may be nothing for me at the Kincaid ranch, either, but I’m going there to see.” She gestured to the briefcase. “I won’t give these to Collin to use against you, but don’t expect anything else from me. Not ever.” She hesitated. “Goodbye, Father.”
He didn’t answer.
The secretary kept her eyes on her desk as Hope left. At her office, she picked up her purse and a box of personal items. She told a wide-eyed Selma goodbye and walked out.