by Alice Sharpe
“No kidding. Maybe you could tell the sheriff and he could ask her.”
“Maybe.”
Bonnie jumped up beside them, her fur covered with snow. Echo patted her and sighed. “I can’t wait to get a dog of our own,” she said. “And I really can’t wait to be a mother.”
Cassie put her arms around Bonnie’s neck as the fir tree finally crashed to the snow.
ECHO AND ADAM CONTINUED on up the mountain to look for another tree for their own house. They would drag it behind one of the snowmobiles, Adam announced. Laughing, the two of them took off while Cody helped Cassie into the cat. The trip back to the ranch was still subdued. Cody knew enough to sense something was wrong but he wasn’t sure what it was. Stress? Apprehension? The baby?
He started to ask Cassie how she was feeling and stopped himself short. If she wanted to be quiet he would do his best to respect it.
That worked for a few minutes.
“Where do you want to set up the tree?” he asked, which was a dumb question. The tree always went in the living room where the tall windows made an inverted V.
“In the living room by the windows,” she said.
“I’ll get Mike to help me put the lights on it.”
“Mike has a hurt back, remember?”
“He can do it sitting down. He told me was bored; this will keep him occupied. Jamie can haul it into the house. The decorations are in the barn—”
“No they aren’t. I packed them in the attic last year.”
“That’s right.”
Silence fell as completely as a curtain at the end of a performance. Minus the applause.
He stopped at the house to let Cassie off, and even though he got the distinct impression she could manage fine without him, he followed her up the stairs in case they were icy. Bonnie darted ahead and round the deck, her nose apparently picking up a scent.
“Cassie, wait,” he said, as she reached for the door handle.
She turned to him, eyes as blue as an Alpine lake. “What?”
“Something has happened,” he said.
She looked away.
“I thought we weren’t going to keep secrets.”
“So did I,” she said, looking back at him. There was a challenge in her gaze, and he reminded himself that underneath the very pregnant skin of his wife beat the heart of a fierce woman with a mind of her own.
“Cass—” he began.
“Don’t,” she said, and now her eyes were all but pleading.
“Last night you said you needed time and I gave it to you. But I’m not a fool. I can see that you’re preoccupied and upset. If you can’t be forthright with me, then who—”
“You’re a fine one to talk about speaking your mind,” she said, eyes flashing.
Her comment, which made no sense to him, was punctuated by a dog bark. They stared at each other for several seconds, trying to ignore Bonnie, but she was persistent. The bark got closer as the dog rounded the corner of the house, saw them, stopped dead in her tracks and yipped. Then she ran back the way she had come.
There was something urgent in her manner. Cody took off after her, aware Cassie followed behind. Now what?
The pond he’d built Cassie was up ahead. It looked as quiet and dormant as it had the day before and the day before that. He saw nothing that would explain the dog’s behavior.
Bonnie stood at the far end of the pond where the rocks overhung the bank and the bright yellow leaves of a small aspen tree hovered low over the water. The dog barked again. As Cody moved closer to her, Bonnie leaped into the pond and paddled toward the deepest of shadows.
“Bonnie, get out of there,” Cody called.
“Ssh,” Cassie said, holding a finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”
He listened for a second, but all he heard was the splash of the water as the dog paddled around like a beaver.
And then he heard a stifled cry.
Cassie moved closer to him. “What is that? An animal or what?”
“I don’t know.” Pulling off his boots and shrugging off his jacket, Cody lowered himself into the water, pushing the dog out of the way, vaguely aware that she swam past him to the edge and hauled herself out. The water was chest high and very cold. He moved aside branches until a shocked white face appeared in the dim light, staring through the branches, eyes wide with terror.
“Sally!” he said, moving quickly now to get to her. The right side of her face was covered with blood, her fair hair matted. How long had she been in the water? He asked her this as he worked to loosen her hands from her stranglehold on the tree and rocks, but she could do little more than shake. At least the way she’d wedged herself into the branches kept her shoulders and head out of the water.
“Call Jamie for help,” Cody yelled over his shoulder. “His cell number is by the phone in the kitchen.”
As he yelled this, he finally managed to pry Sally’s hands free and unhook her elbow, then floated her gently toward the side, being careful to keep her head as dry as possible. He knew what to do in these cases—one did not grow up surrounded by cold water without learning the basics. He could hardly believe it when he heard pounding steps and looked up to find Jamie already approaching, moving pretty damn fast for a guy over sixty with bowed legs.
“I was in the office looking for that blasted invoice for the pump— Lord Almighty, is that Sally?”
“Help me lift her out,” Cody called. “Keep her horizontal,” he added. “Hear me, Sally? Don’t try to stand.” He was unsure if she understood him, but he’d read that jerking the heart back into full action too quickly could overstress a muscle suffering from hypothermia.
Cassie showed up, carrying blankets, and stood by as Cody and Jamie lifted Sally out of the water, keeping her flat. Together, the two men carried her inside the house, the ends of her long hair and her clothes dripping as they moved through the kitchen to the dining room and beyond into the living area.
Jamie and Cody gently laid Sally on the leather sofa. Cassie was right behind them, and she immediately covered Sally with blankets, tucking them close around her quaking shoulders and wrapping one around her head.
“I’ll build up the fire,” Jamie said, as Cody grabbed an extra blanket and ran into the kitchen. He found Bonnie camped out on her pillow and hurriedly floated the blanket over her wet fur.
Warm tap water went into one of the red mugs kept on the counter. By the time he got back to the living room, Jamie had called for an ambulance and was now trying to reach Sally’s fiancé. Cassie had all but buried Sally under a mountain of warm blankets and held a towel on her face. Bright red blood seeped through the cotton.
“We need ice,” Cassie said softly, glancing up at him. “There are at least two wounds on her scalp and it looks as if her ear was nicked. I think we should keep them cold.”
He gave Cassie the mug and went back for an ice bag, wishing Echo or Pauline were around. Both of them knew a lot more about where things were kept than he did. The dog watched him with grave brown eyes from beneath the tent of her blanket as he opened every cupboard and drawer. Eventually he found the ice bag, filled it and returned to the living room.
As Cassie held the bag on Sally’s facial wounds, Cody sat down on the edge of the big table.
“What happened?” Sally asked through chattering teeth. “Ethan?”
“Was he here?” Cassie asked, and Cody heard the fear in her voice. Did she flash on a sudden image of Sally’s fiancé laying on the bottom of the pond with a smashed skull? That couldn’t be. Cody would have run into his body when he moved through the water.
Sally tried to shake her head and winced. “No. He…he didn’t come.” Tears spilled from her eyes.
“Can you remember anything else?” Cody asked.
She closed her eyes as if trying to think. Finally, lashes fluttering against her cheeks, she whispered, “I went to sit…by the pond…to…to wait for him.”
“And you fell in—”
“No.” Her blue eyes opened
wide and she looked up at Cassie. “Burning on my head. I…I started to turn. Another hit. The water…so cold. Footsteps…”
“You heard footsteps so you hid under the aspen branches?” Cassie said, her voice a whisper. Sally nodded.
“What happened next?”
“Shoes.”
“Shoes?” Cody repeated.
“You saw shoes?” Cassie asked.
Sally nodded. “White…running…”
“White running shoes.”
Another nod. “And a…a…gun. White…grrr…”
“Grip?” Cody asked, exchanging a quick look with Cassie. “It had a white grip?”
Sally nodded again.
Emerson Banner’s gun!
“Was it a man or a woman?” Cassie asked.
She shook her head gently. “I don’t…”
“That’s okay,” Cassie said soothingly.
“I heard…an…engine.”
“That might have been me coming back from the parts store,” Jamie said. “That damn pump is out again.”
“When did you get back?” Cody asked.
“Twenty minutes ago, maybe?”
“Right before we returned,” Cody said. That meant Sally probably hadn’t been in the water that long. “Did you see anyone else around?” he asked Jamie.
“No one. ’Course, I wasn’t looking, and if a fella ran around the deck and left from the back, I wouldn’t of seen ’em.”
“Someone shot her,” Cassie said, her voice soft. “Sally, do you have any idea who would want to hurt you?”
“No,” Sally whispered, as though the gunman might be close by. Her hands suddenly struggled under the blankets and she clutched at her throat. A second later Cody helped her pull loose a sodden length of blue silk from under the covers.
“That’s my old scarf,” Cassie whispered.
Cassie’s blue scarf…
Cody’s gaze met Sally’s and then Cassie’s, and he saw in both women’s eyes the same conclusion that he’d reached himself.
Sally wasn’t the gunman’s intended victim.
Cassie was.
Chapter Twelve
Sheriff Inkwell looked worn out. He was always a little on the scruffy side, but the long afternoon had taken a toll on him. Even his unruly hair seemed to have wilted over his forehead.
Cassie told him about the dead man in the Idaho river, and he’d assured her it wasn’t Kevin Cooke. Donna had reported her husband had one tattoo, and that was on his left wrist. It was a heart with her initials in it.
And she’d also told him Sally’s description of the gun. Ivory grips.
“Sounds like Banner’s stolen piece,” he’d agreed, and then he’d gone with Cody to drain the pond.
Cassie found someone had retrieved the boxes of ornaments and stacked them near the tree on which Jamie, bless his heart, had strung a thousand little white lights. She’d opened a box and settled her frazzled nerves by hanging the glass balls and spiral icicles on the branches.
The EMTs had also checked out Cassie before taking off, and that had been at Cody’s insistence. She was fine, the baby was fine, everything and everyone was fine, except no one was fine.
After she answered a few of the sheriff’s questions, she stared into her distorted face, courtesy of the reflection in a silver ball, and got lost in thought.
Someone had tried to kill her again, only this time they hurt Sally. Blond hair, blue scarf—she supposed it was possible from the back the shooter could have mixed them up. Not from a front view or the side, however, so whoever had done this had come across Sally after she sat down on the bench.
Cody said it was an example of the same ineptness that had plagued her would-be assassin from the start. But sooner or later, the odds were this person would get it right.
The sheriff had announced they’d found two bullets in the pond, which had now been drained. The casings matched those Cody had discovered up on the hill after the first attempt. Same gunman. Or woman. Same poor choice in a weapon. Ballistic tests would be run if they ever recovered Emerson Banner’s gun, but the fact was he had a damn good alibi this time—he was in jail.
Someone touched her shoulder and she shivered. Echo stood behind her holding a mug with a spoon propped up in it. “The tree looks wonderful. I can’t wait to put ours up. Adam wants to decorate it with things from the forest, you know, like pine cones and thorns.” She handed Cassie the mug. “Pauline made you chicken soup. She said it’s Pierce’s favorite.”
“The kind with little dumplings?” Cassie asked, as she took the mug and settled herself in a chair by the fire. “It smells heavenly.”
Echo perched on her heels to hang ornaments on the lower branches Cassie couldn’t bend to reach. As Cassie ate her soup she was overwhelmed with how comfortable it all seemed.
The phone rang, and Echo popped to her feet to get it. Cassie tried not to be envious. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d popped out of a chair.
Echo spoke briefly into the receiver and then brought it to Cassie, mouthing It’s Donna as she handed it over.
Cassie was really glad she knew the dead man wasn’t Donna’s husband. But she couldn’t imagine what Donna wanted. “Hello?”
“Where’s my ring?” Donna demanded.
“Not that again,” she groaned.
“That ring means a lot to me. It’s worth a ton of money.”
“Like I told you, I addressed the envelope to your parents. Ask them where it is.”
“Mother said Father opened the package.”
“Your father was embezzling money from your grandmother, Donna. He isn’t the most honest person on the planet.”
There was a long pause before Cassie heard a gruff “Maybe not, but maybe you aren’t, either!” Then Donna hung up abruptly.
Echo looked up from her task, a ten-inch crystal snowflake dangling from her fingers. “What did she want?”
“She’s still positive I stole that ring from her. That whole family is crazy.”
The phone rang again as Cassie set it down. She answered it with another hello. Caller ID had informed her the area code was Idaho, though the rest of the number was unknown to her. She just hoped it wasn’t Donna calling back to throw more accusations.
“Is Cassie there?” a male voice asked.
“Is that you, Robert?”
He paused for a second. “Cassie. I didn’t recognize your voice. Is everything okay?”
“It’s been a long evening,” she admitted. “Someone shot at a friend of ours. What can I do for you?”
“I talked to my mother about why she was outside that night. Remember, you asked me to? Her excuse is a little far-fetched.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she’d read in the paper that some comet was going to be visible in the middle of the night and she could see it better down where the branches in the garden didn’t obscure the sky.”
“A comet?”
“I know.” He laughed without mirth. “I didn’t believe it, either, but here’s the thing. I checked and there was one.”
“But it was overcast and raining, remember?”
“Mother insisted it was clear for a few minutes, and that’s why she went down there.”
Was that possible? Cassie had been asleep before Mrs. Priestly’s summons for help. Maybe the sky had cleared for a while. “Do you believe her?”
“To tell you the truth, right about now I don’t know who to believe.” He paused for a second before adding, “I have a huge favor to ask.”
She didn’t like the sound of that and was pretty sure where he was headed. “I’ve searched everywhere for the jewels,” she said, hoping to preempt his request. “I simply don’t have them. Not the emerald or any diamonds—”
“No, no, not that, I told you, they seem like small potatoes to me right now.”
“Well, they’re not small potatoes to your parents or your sister. I’d just as soon not give birth in a jail cell.”
&nb
sp; He laughed again. This time it was brittle. “That’s not going to happen,” he insisted. “But my favor is pretty big considering everything, and I can’t think of a single reason you should agree to it except I really need you to help me. I need to talk to you. Things are so dismal around here I can’t get away…I know you’re very pregnant, but will you come to my restaurant tomorrow? I’ll treat you to a nice lunch.”
She hesitated long enough that he continued. “I know you’re not my sister, but I can talk to you and I can’t talk to Donna, not about this.”
“Why? Is it about her?”
This time he hesitated, and then it sounded to Cassie as though he closed a door. His voice dropped a notch. “Yes, it’s about Donna. You know her husband is still missing, right?”
“I assumed.”
“I’m not sure he is missing.”
“She just called here, right before you,” Cassie said. “If you know she’s done something, tell the police.”
“No, no, I may be wrong. I need a clear head. Too much is happening. Please, Cassie. I know you’re not family, but it’s hard to overlook the way your life is mixed up with ours. Will you come?”
She started to say no, but just then Cody crossed the room on his way to the den, Bonnie trotting along behind him. The anxious look he darted her way irritated the heck out of her. Before overhearing his conversation with Adam, she’d assumed his anxiety was for her safety and that of their baby. Now she wondered if it was more about himself. He was stuck…
She whispered “Okay” into the phone.
“That’s great. Around noon?”
“Isn’t that a busy time for you?”
“Not lately. See you tomorrow.”
She clicked off the phone and got to her feet to resume trimming the tree with Echo. As she took care of the branches she could easily reach, she made a mental list of the reasons she would likely cancel the visit when sanity reasserted itself in the morning.
Number one: Could she drive that far? Did it make any sense at all to chance such a thing?
Number two: Could she trust Robert?
Number three: Someone was trying to kill her. No reason to make it easier on that someone by parading around by herself, and in Cherrydell of all places.