“That’s right, doll,” May said, putting an arm around my shoulders and giving me a hug. “You stay here with us. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Everyone started chattering at once, assuring me that things would turn out just fine and not to worry. Mary came over to take my order and Judy paused with a pot of coffee to squeeze my shoulder. I smiled up at her and patted her hand before she hurried away. I asked Betty and Jeff how their vacation plans were going to visit their daughter in Vancouver, and conversation resumed. Now I could have a quiet talk with Steve.
“What’s going on with the test results from the O’Cleary ranch?” I whispered.
He finished chewing a forkful of potatoes before answering. “They put a rush on the blood test. It was easy since we already had a sample from your ex. It was his blood in the lounge alright, Anna.”
I was silent as this information sunk in. “Okay,” I said, “so now we know where Jack was killed.”
Steve nodded. “We won’t get the other test results back for a few days, so we’ll just have to hang tight. One good thing I can tell you, though. The forensics guy said he didn’t think there was any blood in Ben’s car.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. At last, some good news. Mary came back with my breakfast, and I waited while she set my food down before me. The moment she left, I leaned toward Steve. “Who’s the witness who saw Ben’s car, Steve?”
He looked at me, and then bit into a piece of toast. “I’ve already said more than I should, Anna. I can’t tell you that. It’s illegal.”
I shook my head. “I don’t care if it’s illegal or not, Steve. Tell me. You know I’ll never tell anyone else.” He looked down at his plate, still chewing his food. I took hold of his arm. “Please Steve?” He paused for a moment without looking at me before cutting another piece of steak.
I watched him fork the meat into his mouth before sinking back into my chair. I felt totally adrift. Steve had been so good to me throughout this whole ordeal, but I had gone too far, and now he wouldn’t help me anymore. I looked at my own plate of food and lost it. My breath caught in my throat, and I started to cry.
May turned to me in alarm. “What is it, doll?” she asked. She put an arm around my shoulders and I started to sob. I couldn’t help it. After a moment, I felt a hand on my arm and looked up. Erna stood beside me with a purse-sized package of tissues.
“Thanks, Erna,” I gulped, pulling two or three out of the package and blowing my nose. As I dried my tears, I realized that the whole room had gone silent. I glanced at the people at the next table and saw that they were staring. They noticed me looking at them and turned away, talking quietly amongst themselves again.
I had never been so embarrassed before. I jumped out of my chair. “Got to go,” I said, fumbling under the table for my purse.
“Anna, are you alright?” Erna asked, her hand on my back.
I nodded. “Fine, fine.” I opened my wallet and threw a twenty on top of the table, my face feeling hot and sticky.
“Please stay with us, dear,” Erna said.
I flashed a fixed smile at her. “No, thanks, I really have to go. See you all later.” I stumbled over my chair and fled out onto the street. The outdoor air was fresh, and I paused to let it cool my face. I had just started down the street when the restaurant door opened and a voice shouted, “Anna!”
I turned. It was Steve. He caught up to me in a few strides. “It was Jessie Wick,” he said, breathlessly.
I was stunned. “Jessie? It can’t have been Jessie. That doesn’t make sense. I thought it was Karen Quill trying to get back at me. Why Jessie?”
“The O’Cleary ranch is on the way to her brother’s ranch. She said she saw the car parked there on her way home from work the day that Jack was murdered.”
“Well, she was wrong, Steve. I know she didn’t see Ben’s car there. Why would she lie?”
I turned to go and Steve grabbed hold of my shoulder. “If you tell Tremaine that I gave you Jessie’s name, he’ll kill me. He’ll have me brought up on charges.”
I seized Steve by his shoulders and kissed him hard on the mouth. He looked startled when I broke away from him.
“Thanks, Steve, I’m really, really grateful. I swear I won’t tell Tremaine, not even if he tortures me.” I turned and started running down the sidewalk, my brain ticking like a tightly-wound clock.
Steve shouted after me, “Anna, you be careful now. Don’t go doing anything you know you shouldn’t!”
The minute I got home, I took called Amy. “Hi Amy, it’s Anna,” I said, struggling to sound casual. “How’re you doing today? Feeling alright after that big upset with Connie last night?”
“I’m so-so Anna. Still feeling a bit shaky. I cancelled my hair appointments for today.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that, Amy. I promise you, I will find some way of getting that gun back to Connie without him thinking you had anything to do with it. I’m so grateful to you for not telling Connie or Steve that I took the gun. I owe you big time for that. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, Anna. I didn’t want to get you into trouble, too.”
“You’re the greatest, Amy. Meanwhile, I have a teensy question about Jessie Wick. I just wondered if you happen to know whether or not she’s working today?”
“No, they’re only shooting with the principals this weekend.”
“Hmm. Would you happen to know if Jessie’s staying at her brother’s ranch these days? Erna Dombrosky gave me a run-down on her family history, so I know that she leaves her cabin to stay at the ranch when she’s helping out with the family business.”
“Well, I did overhear that she was helping her brother move some of the cattle to different pasture this week. But why do you want to know about Jessie, Anna?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just keeping tabs on her. I’d like to know more about her – that’s all.”
“You’re not going to try to follow her the way you did Connie and Karen, are you, Anna?”
“No, of course not. Nothing like that.”
Amy paused and I could practically hear the wheels whirring in her head. “Anna, you’re not planning on searching her cabin, are you?”
I sighed. “No, Amy, I’m not going to search it. I just want to have a look at it from the outside.”
“Oh, Anna, I wish you wouldn’t. It’s too dangerous. Remember what happened with the Primos? What if Jessie shows up and catches you?”
“You just told me that she’s busy on her brother’s ranch. Look, Amy, don’t worry. I’ll just peek in the windows. I wouldn’t dream of going inside, unless she’s left a key hidden somewhere obvious. No one will catch me this time, I promise. I’ll be really careful.”
“You’re crazy, Anna. You’ve got to stop this – it’s too dangerous. Let Sergeant Tremaine take care of it.”
“Come on, Amy, what’s the worst that could happen? Jessie’s not going to shoot me even if she catches me spying on her cabin, now, is she?”
“Oh, Anna, promise me you won’t go! Please. Jessie Wick is a lot more dangerous than Karen and Connie.”
“Now why would you say that, Amy?”
“I don’t know. It’s the way she acts, I guess. She says things like ‘I’d never take that kind of crap from any man.’ She seems so tough.”
“Come on, Amy, I’m not going to do anything stupid. Just forget I ever called. Go see a movie or do some shopping or something. Everything will work out just fine. You have a good weekend, now. Bye.”
“Anna, please don’t.”
“Bye Amy.” I disconnected before she could say another word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was on the road headed to Jessie’s cabin within the next thirty minutes. The sky had cleared, and sculpted white clouds drifted across an azure blue sky. As I drove west on Highway 22X, the blue-grey mountains appeared before me on the horizon. The leaves on the trees were a vivid green, and blue and yellow spring wildflowers w
aved alongside the two-lane highway. This was my favourite time of year. I rolled down the windows a few inches, enjoying the cool air that blew through my sunny car.
The road climbed and twisted as I drove into the mountains and Kananaskis Country. I checked the directions Erna had given me from time to time and sang along with the radio. It felt good to be doing something proactive about the woman who had lied to the police about my son.
After about forty-five minutes, I turned off the highway and onto a secondary road. The road crews hadn’t gotten to the potholes that had opened during the bitterly cold winter, and I navigated around them at reduced speed. I was watching for a one-lane bridge that would take me over the river. The road twisted a couple of more times before I spotted the bridge up ahead. It was a short with concrete buttresses supporting it. The water was moving fast between the river banks, swollen with the winter runoff. I bumped over the bridge and steered onto a gravel road on the other side. A side-road immediately diverged into the trees, but I stuck to the shoreline and watched the river sparkling in the sunlight until it curved away out of sight. Just another minute or so, Erna had said, before I should see a wagon-shaped mailbox marking the laneway to Jessie’s cabin. I slowed down until I spied the mailbox, and then parked a little way beyond it on the shoulder of the road. The overhead branches masked my car, although I couldn’t imagine there’d be much traffic going by to see it.
I locked the car and walked back up the road to the laneway. Looking around to ensure that no one was watching me, I turned in, walking on the grassy verge next to the gravel. I could hear water flowing close by, but the dense trees bordering the driveway hid the source. I listened for sounds of movement, but the only thing I heard was birdsong. A magpie startled me as it burst from the trees, scolding me for invading its territory. After a couple of minutes of walking, the trees thinned into a clearing. Suddenly, I could see the house.
What a beautiful spot! The log cabin was perched on a rocky slope overlooking the river. The side of the cabin nearest the river had floor-to-ceiling windows, making the most of the view. The river formed a mini-rapid just below the slope, crashing over rocks and spraying white mist into the air. I enjoyed the scene for a few moments before heading up the drive to the cabin.
The place looked deserted, as if it hadn’t been aired out for spring yet. The prairie garden out front of the house was littered with leaves and the dried stalks of last year’s grasses. The window boxes beneath the two front cabin windows were draped with shrivelled black plants. A couple of Adirondack chairs were tipped back against the wall on the small front porch.
I climbed the three low stairs leading up to the porch and peeked in one of the windows. The sun shone through the side windows, illuminating a great room that combined kitchen, dining and living room space. A black wood-burning stove was tucked inside a wide stone hearth, a couch and rocking chair facing it. Two doors led off the great room, presumably into a bedroom and bath.
Backing away from the window, I tried the front door, but it was locked. I stretched up on tiptoe to feel for a key around the door frame, but couldn’t find one. The dense fibre mat in front of the door didn’t yield up a key, either, nor did the window boxes. I left the porch to follow the drive along the front of the house.
The far side of the house had a carport attached to it with a padlocked wooden shed. I glanced inside the shed window, but saw only garden tools and a riding lawnmower. I followed along the side of the house, walking on yellow-green grass and dried leaves. Peering in the kitchen window, I admired the espresso-coloured hardwood floor, granite countertops, and an island complete with a built-in grill. The kitchen had all of the latest bells and whistles.
There was a deep wooden deck spanning the back wall of the cabin. I climbed onto it and looked inside the two sliding glass doors. One opened into the kitchen; the other into the bedroom. The bedroom door was draped in a luxurious fabric, a kind of golden, flowered tapestry. The bed was king-sized with a tufted blue headboard piled high with pillows. Soft, plush white carpet lay on the floor on either side of the bed. A beautiful white vanity table with a scalloped mirror and an upholstered stool caught my eye. The bedroom had a feminine, pampered appearance, and while it was very different from my own decorating style, I would have loved to own such a room.
I tore myself away from the door and began searching for a key. The deck contained a covered barbecue and some overturned wooden planters, but no key.
I was about to give up and go home when I heard something. It sounded as if someone were knocking on the front door. I froze, and someone shouted, “Anna, where are you?” After a moment, I heard, “Anna, I know you’re here. I saw your car parked out on the road. Don’t play games with me.”
I couldn’t believe it – it was Tremaine! How had he known that I was here? Amy must have ratted on me, the fink!
I could hear him rustling through the leaves along the side of the house, getting closer all the time. I couldn’t let him catch me spying a second time, but I was trapped. The only way out was the narrow strip topping the slope beside the river, but I was afraid to go that way.
“I warned you, Anna. I can’t believe you’re doing this again. Anna, answer me!” I pivoted, looking for a place to hide, but the back lawn was too deep and I didn’t have time to run into the woods.
He rounded the cabin, dressed in his usual suit and tie. His mouth was compressed into a tight line and his eyes flashed with anger.
“There you are,” he said, starting toward me. I panicked and took off at a run for the other side of the cabin. “Don’t be stupid,” he shouted, chasing after me.
Wild rose bushes grew in a patch along the edge of the slope. I stumbled over a root and almost lost my footing.
“Be careful!” he yelled, springing forward and catching hold of my arm. I whirled and jerked my arm out of his grasp. The abruptness of my movement unbalanced him. He tripped backward, lost his footing, and fell over the side. I stared in horror as he tumbled down the slope in a shower of stones and dust and dropped into the river. He didn’t reappear for a few agonizing seconds until I saw his head break the surface. He coughed and sputtered before the river snatched him away.
“Tremaine!” I screamed, running to the front of the house and down the driveway. The river would be freezing with the runoff, and even if he managed to stay afloat in the fast-flowing water, the cold would kill him. I tore down the gravel road at top speed, following it through the trees. After what felt like an eternity, the road ran parallel to the river again. I slowed and loped through the stones along the river bank, not wanting to twist an ankle. My chest was heaving from all of the running. I paused to look up the river for a glimpse of him.
I was afraid that he had already swept by, but I saw him coming toward me. His blond head was smooth as a seal’s, bobbing up and down in the water. He tumbled past me. My only hope was to catch him at the bridge. I turned and ran again, past the spot where the other road branched off, pushing myself forward until I reached the bridge.
He was still upstream from me, thank God. He was draped over a boulder in the middle of the river, his head resting on top of his arm.
“Tremaine, over here,” I shouted, jumping up and down and waving my arms. I wasn’t sure that he could hear me over the water’s roar, but he raised his head and seemed to see me. I waved again and waded into the water, my right hand pressed against the first concrete buttress.
The water was shockingly cold. I had never been in water so cold before. I shuddered convulsively. How could Tremaine bear it? I forced myself in deeper, feeling the slippery riverbed beneath my shoes, the water coursing against my calves.
“Oh dear Lord, please don’t let me fall in the water,” I prayed. I knew that we would both be goners if I did.
I waded in further, pressing one hand against the second column, until the water was waist deep. I could feel the river catching at me as it rushed past, and I was desperately glad for the solidity of the concrete b
uttress beside me. I turned and flattened my back against it, looking toward Tremaine. I screamed his name again and again, but this time his head did not rise from the boulder.
“Come on, come on!” I shouted, frantic that he might be unconscious. Then I watched as he slipped off the boulder. The current carried him forward, his face in the water. When he was within a few feet of me, I strained forward and snagged him by the shirt collar. The pressure of the racing water almost tore him away, but I dragged him back with all of my strength and clasped him to me. His long body lay draped over mine, his head drooping on my shoulder.
I bent my mouth to his ear. “Tremaine, can you hear me?” I shouted. He didn’t answer. His eyes were closed. He seemed to be unconscious.
“We’re going to wade ashore now. Try to walk with me, if you can.”
His body was a dead weight on top of mine as I inched through the water, my back pressed against the second buttress. I was terrified that I might lose my footing on feet numb with cold. Glancing up, the shore still seemed so far away. How was I going to make it? Then I heard a miracle, a woman’s voice shouting. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on, help is on the way.”
I looked over Tremaine’s shoulder and saw a woman running down the shore toward us. She held a rake in her hand, and her longish skirt flapped open to reveal knee-high rubber boots. I had never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. She ran to the water’s edge and splashed in up to her calves, holding the rake handle out to me.
“Here, take hold of the end.”
I had to edge across the space between the two columns to reach it, the weight of Tremaine’s inert body pressing me down while the water clawed at us. She took a step in deeper, her flowered skirt floating on the water. I stretched forward and managed to grab the handle.
“Very good, you’ve got it. Take another step – and another. Come on, nearly there. Got you!”
She grabbed my wrist and dragged me forward. I tripped on a rock and splashed onto one knee, still clinging to Tremaine. The woman drove the rake handle into the riverbed and grasped the back of my shirt with her free hand. She hauled me to my feet and pulled the two of us into her arms.
Framed For Murder (An Anna Nolan Mystery) Page 18