No one could ever know why Frank Sullivan had to die...
Once at the Thunderbird, Rosalind shoved a hand into her pocket but came up empty. She checked the other pocket, withdrew what looked like a slip of paper, then thrust the thing back where she'd found it. Her frustration was evident. She must have lost her keys.
Seeming torn for a moment, she hurried back toward the bluff's edge.
The last mistake she would ever make.
THAT HER KEYRING HAD SLIPPED from her pocket while she and Skelly had been rolling on the ground was the only conclusion Rosalind could come to. Without the darned car keys, they would be on foot again. Exactly what she needed. Another S.O.S. to the gas station.
Though she'd prefer waiting until Skelly could come with her, she also knew that might be some time if Cavillo actually showed. And if it rained hard, the keys could wash right into the Mighty Mississippi never to be seen again.
She had no options.
Once again a weird sensation made her look behind her. People were now straggling through the parking lot toward their cars, though they paid her no mind.
Her imagination.
Rosalind hiked herself through the timbers of the fence. On the other side, she carefully began retracing her steps. Descending was a bit easier than climbing, though she had to sit her way down in several places...one danger reminding her of another.
But no one had sabotaged her car this time, she assured herself, even as a big fat rain drop splashed the tip of her nose. The problem was entirely hers. In the heat of passion, she'd managed to lose her keys.
So why couldn't she shake the ominous feeling that stuck to her like a shadow? Once she found the key ring, Rosalind vowed, she'd return the safe way, would take the stairs back to the lodge. Forget the sweater.
If only she could forget the impending rain. Drops hit her with increasing regularity.
She was thankful when she touched down on the open path and hurried toward the trysting spot. And yet her nerves wound tight as the sounds around her amplified. Leaves rustling. A stone shooting down the incline. Water lapping at the bluff's base. Sounds that had been there all along, she was certain. Being alone was scaring her.
Not wanting to lose her nerve now, she kept on while replaying bits and pieces of the moments in Skelly's arms to distract herself from darker thoughts. How weird fate could be. If he hadn't done the story on Lily, she never would have burst into his office to challenge him, and they wouldn't have ended up together in Galena.
They never would have met at all.
But they had met, and Rosalind knew her life would never be the same. A few short days and Skelly had become essential. He made her laugh. He turned her on. He banished her loneliness and made her feel safe.
If only she felt safe now...that creepy feeling was sneaking up on her again.
The sky had closed except for the steady drizzle that forced her into hurrying, the faint glow from the lodge and parking lot lights her only orientation. When she had a sense of the foliage on the rim side above becoming denser, she knew this was the place. She slowed, barely able to make out the familiar clearing against the thicket of bushes and small trees.
Exposed skin now slick with rain, damp clothes clinging to her flesh, Rosalind took the few steps to the wet grass. There, she dropped to her knees, hands blindly searching the ground, quickly covering the area where she and Skelly had shared those intimate moments.
Unfortunately, she came up empty-handed.
Sitting back on her haunches, Rosalind took a deep breath. “The keys have to be here somewhere. Don't panic or you'll never find them. Concentrate, damn it!"
For part of her continued to be distracted by something she couldn't see.
She began again, slower this time, more methodical, her senses attuned not only to the search but to her surroundings and that elusive shadow. The grass yielded no cache other than a few rocks. Could the keys have flown farther than she'd thought? She widened the search area to include the pockets of earth beneath the bushes. She even checked the base of several small trees.
All she got for her trouble was wet.
Wetter, she amended, getting to her feet even as she heard a sound she couldn't put a name to.
Chilled to the bone from both rain and nerves, she wrapped her arms around herself and backed off. No sense in denying the inevitable. She knew when she was beaten. Jarvis Wiggs to the rescue.
Better him than the bogey man she kept conjuring, Rosalind thought, hurrying.
The slippery mud caught her off balance, and she did a fancy dance to stay upright. In the process, her foot struck an object that shifted with a muffled sound.
Could it be?
Back on her knees, she felt the rain-soaked path around her feet with both hands. The muck oozed around her fingers until she grazed something unyielding. Something not a rock. Hooking the ring, she rescued her keys from the mud and shoved them deep into her pocket.
Triumph died an immediate death, however, when she heard a sucking sound behind her. Her heart skipped a beat. A shoe pulling free of the mud? Adrenaline-charged, she tried shooting to her feet.
Whoever was behind her was faster.
Hit hard in the middle of her back before she could straighten, a horrified Rosalind screamed as she shot out into nothingness.
Chapter Ten
HEART POUNDING WITH MISGIVING, he leaped down the slick incline, by some miracle avoiding the rocks and staying on his feet.
What could Roz have been thinking?
Instinct pushed him to speed up. And when he heard a woman's terrified scream, his blood ran cold. He ran like hell, trusting luck rather than sight...
KEELIN WHIPPED STRAIGHT UP in bed, fists locked around the covers, her body drenched in sweat.
"Skelly!" she whispered.
She'd been dreaming through his eyes. Her cousin was in desperate straits...rather the woman was.
Not knowing where they were or what to do, she closed her eyes, determined to see more. Normally the visions came to her without warning. Without welcome. Without involving someone she loved. Thank God she'd learned a bit about lucid dreaming.
Seeking a light hypnotic state, she concentrated...
FEAR THREATENED TO CHOKE HIM when he heard the sharp slap-slap of feet running away. His chest squeezed tight until a faint cry from the river side assured him that Roz was alive. He had to get to her and fast. Envisioning her in free fall and plunging into the Mississippi made his stomach twist in knots.
Nothing could happen to her.
Not to the woman he only just found.
He called out. “Roz, where are you?" Though she had to be close, he barely heard her over the heaving of his own breath.
"Can't...hang on..."
Bile welled in his throat. He pushed it down.
"You hang on, or so help me, the entire country will know what a wimp you turned out to be!"
He hoped to make her mad enough to want to hit him. Mad enough to hold on so that she could.
The rain was letting up and his eyes were adjusting. He got a vague impression of the clearing even as he heard a series of twig-like cracks followed by a swallowed scream coming almost directly from his left. Wasting no time, he threw himself down face first, his stomach skimming the ground as his head and shoulders thrust over the edge. Her pale shirt caught his eye – she was directly below him.
He could hear her panting...her body slipping...her fingers scrabbling to keep her tenuous hold.
He pushed forward as far as he dared – his shoulders and upper torso hanging over the edge.
"I'll get you!" he yelled.
But the clump of shrubbery she hung onto broke free of the wet earth. She started to slide. His arm shot toward her, his hand clamping around her wrist. Though he was bracing himself, he wasn't ready for the power of her weight jerking at him. Searing pain stunned him, and his shoulder felt as if it were torn from its socket, but he hung on to her for all he was worth.
"Roz, you've got to help me!"
"...trying...”
Though her body was flush against the slope, the pitch of the incline was so great that she might have been dangling free.He knew she was fighting gravity, valiantly seeking a hold of some kind. Gritting his teeth, he took a mental step beyond the pain. Finally her jerky movements subsided. For a moment, they remained immobile, panting in unison.
"Found a toehold," she gasped out. “What now?"
"Now I switch arms."
He wasn't certain how a limb could be both numb and throbbing with such pain at the same time. Tricky business, transferring her substantial weight from one hand to the other.
"Find something to grab onto above your head," he ordered.
He knew the last thing she wanted was to move, but she was no quitter. He felt her carefully adjusting, sliding. Heard her hand clawing, fingers digging in.
"It's more slippery mud than rock."
"It'll hold you," he assured her. It had to. “Do the same with your free foot."
More desperate noises. Not a particularly religious man, he prayed like he never had before. He vowed to go to mass every Sunday...participate in novenas...make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Anything if only she would be all right.
Finally, she croaked, “Got it!"
"You push up and I'll back off. Together!"
He managed to retreat several inches, enough to give himself more leverage. Hope lent him strength he hadn't known he had. They repeated the process until he could grab both of her wrists and maintain his balance. Pain meant nothing as he dragged her up and onto him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung to him as if she'd never let go.
He'd never had such reason for thanks in his entire life.
THE VISION DISSIPATED and Keelin opened her eyes, feeling as if the burden had been hers in truth. Her heart was thumping, her breath short. The room was near dark, the glowing hands of the clock on the mantel reading half-past ten.
"Keelin?" came the sleepy voice next to her. “What is it?"
"A dream."
Tyler immediately sat up and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “What sort of dream?"
Though she was certain he didn't have to ask. A normal dream wouldn't upset her so. “Skelly."
"He's in trouble?"
"Aye. Desperate trouble. Though he's safe for the moment."
Certain that the woman hadn't merely fallen, Keelin had no way of knowing whether or not someone was waiting to finish them both off. The uncertainty was the hardest part to bear.
Tyler pulled her close and stroked her hair. Keelin snuggled into him, thankful she wasn't alone in her hotel room. They'd shared hours of passion before falling asleep. She wished he could stay with her, hold her all night, but she knew he had to get home for Cheryl's sake.
"When did the visions start?" he asked.
"This is the first." She'd already told her husband-to-be about Skelly's call of the night before. “He's been on my mind all day. I tried lucid dreaming to tune into him several times, alas to no avail." Because he hadn't been in danger then. Only the strongest of emotions made the connection. “But now I have...and I wish..." She couldn't say that she wished she hadn't seen through her cousin's eyes when she might make a difference. “I'm afraid for him, Tyler. And for the woman. He cares about her...as much as I do you."
"Moira strikes again," he said softly.
Gran's words were burned into her memory.
Dreams are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the heart.Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours...
Keelin wondered if part of the bargain was that all of them – her cousins as well as her own siblings – would be tested by great danger before happiness was within their grasp. She certainly had been. And now Skelly. What was to say they all would come out unscathed?
At the moment, she could take no comfort in The McKenna Legacy.
Glad as she was that Skelly had the dream within his grasp, she prayed God that his life wouldn't be forfeit. Once again, she felt the burden of her special inheritance weighing down her very soul.
What to do?
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, coming back here alone in the dark?" Skelly asked, his tone calm, though he was feeling anything but.
His good arm wrapped around Roz's waist as they took the easy route back toward the lodge, he kept glancing around, peering through the continuing drizzle, trying to spot anything untoward. Just in case.
"That if I didn't find my car keys, we'd be doing some serious walking tonight," she returned. “The next time you roll me around on the ground, we'd better check to see if anything is missing before you let me up."
Her voice was shaky, and yet she was trying to joke. He couldn't believe she had a sense of humor after what she'd been through. Or maybe she was clinging to anything that would prevent her from breaking down.
Aware that, had he arrived on the scene thirty seconds later, he might have lost this woman who'd stormed his heart, Skelly tightened his hold on her. Had he known of the real dangers awaiting them, he never would have agreed to investigate. At least he hoped he had that much sense. Her life for his promotion was not an acceptable trade.
What he'd like to do was tell Roz the deal was off and insist on driving her back to Chicago now, but he figured the gesture would be futile. With or without him, she wouldn't stop digging for the truth. At least if he stayed around, he might be able to protect her.
Thinking about driving made him ask, “Did you ever find those keys?"
Roz patted her pocket and let out a long breath. “Still there, thank goodness."
"Did it even cross your mind that you should have waited for me to come with you?"
Sounding defensive, she said, “I was trying to get to the keys before the rain got to them. We might never have found them later. How was I to know that someone would take the opportunity to help me over the edge?"
Skelly had already figured out what happened, though hearing Roz say the words made him sick to his stomach all over again. “I heard someone running away, but I couldn't see anything in this weather. What about you?"
"Afraid not. I'd barely found the keys and bam! There I went," she said, trembling renewed. “How did you know to come looking for me?"
Skelly held her closer, wanting in the worst way to take her in his arms and kiss away her remaining fears. But how could he when the villain was on the loose?
"I was waiting near the doors," he said, “keeping one eye out for Cavillo, the other on you. I couldn't believe it when you crawled through that fence. I waited a couple of minutes, assuming you'd be right back. Then I had this really bad feeling and came after you."
"Thank God for weird feelings. Now if only I'd listened to mine..."
Skelly remembered she'd thought someone was watching them in the crowded lobby. Perry Nesmith? A member of her own family? Anthony Cavillo himself? Though neither of them had seen a familiar face, anyone could have been hiding within the horde, keeping out of their line of sight.
A few minutes later, they climbed back into the now empty cul-de-sac. The rain had stopped but it had done its damage. They sloshed through puddles and huddled together against the chill of the wind. With its bright lights and aura of warmth and safety, the lodge beckoned to him.
He only hoped the place was safe.
For, being in no shape to go anywhere wet and filthy and as exhausted as they both were, Skelly insisted, “We should stay here for the night."
"If rooms are available, which I doubt," Roz agreed more readily than he'd expected. “I hate the thought of going home looking like this. Grandfather and Aunt Hilary would have heart failure if they saw us."
He noticed she didn't include her mother in the statement. He knew Claudia's reactions weren't necessarily what one might expect, but did Roz really believe her mother wouldn't care if she were hurt? As problematic as his relationship with his only parent was, Skelly couldn't imagi
ne his father not being affected if something were to happen to him.
They dragged themselves up the stairway and into the lodge, arms supporting each other. Guests and staff alike stared at them as they made their way to the reception desk, yet the providence of Miss Jerina.
"My goodness, what happened?" the wide-eyed brunette asked.
"We had a little accident out on the bluff," Skelly told her. “We'll live but we need to get cleaned up and warm. You wouldn't have two rooms available?"
"I'm afraid not. We've been booked solid for...wait a minute. “Miss Jerina went to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard. A moment later, she nodded. “That's what I thought. One of our guests is very late...but it would be on my head if he showed up after I gave you his room," she said with an indecisive grimace.
Voice shaking with cold, Roz said, “Maybe we'd better leave. We can be home in half an hour."
Knowing she needed to get warm and dry quicker than that, Skelly fetched his wallet and pulled out a wilted fifty dollar bill, which he slid across the desk.
"Would you get in trouble if someone accidentally overbooked?"
Miss Jerina's sympathetic gaze shifted between them, then darted around the area before she covertly took the bribe. “All right, I'll take a chance," she said quietly. “I'll enter an extra reservation into the computer. Hopefully, no one will question it."
"Maybe the other guest won't show at all."
"That's what I'm counting on."
Pressed against him, Roz shivered. “Thank you."
Skelly asked, “Can you have someone see my friend to the room while I register?"
"Of course." Miss Jerina pressed a buzzer. “A bellboy will be right out."
He hugged Roz. “So you're going to get in a hot shower and stay there until you warm up, right?"
"Anything you say."
He arched his eyebrows at her. “I'll remember that."
A uniformed bellboy materialized from the back and grabbed the keys to their room. While his expression reflected his surprise at their disheveled appearance, he didn't say a word as he led Roz toward the north wing.
The McKenna Legacy Trilogy Page 34