by K. J. Dahlen
"Who are you? Where am I?" She finally asked. Her voice was low. The voice revealed her state of fear. She hadn’t raised her head. Her red hair curtained her face from his gaze.
Colton frowned. He gazed at the woman in front of him as he wondered if she was playing him. This didn’t fit with the picture Grayson Trainer had painted. He knew he couldn’t trust anything Grayson said--but if this woman had murdered anyone, he would have been surprised. She didn’t seem the type, really, given the questions she just asked. "My name is Colton Rivers. I have a ranch about ninety miles from Coven Glade, Minnesota, near a little town called Benton." He watched with interest as she frowned at the information.
"Do you know what happened to me? I mean how did I end up here?" she asked.
"I found your overturned car early this morning. You must have rolled off the road and ended up in the ditch sometime during the night." He shifted his weight to look at her. "Don’t you remember the accident at all?"
She shook her head slowly. "Do you know where I was going or where I was coming from?" Her tongue moistened her dry lips. Colton watched, mesmerized by the action. "I’m not sure I even know where this place is."
He blinked twice to clear away the fog then frowned. "What do you remember?"
She turned tearful eyes to him. "I don’t remember anything. It’s like I woke up for the first time in the bedroom over there. I’m trying, I really am, but I can’t remember anything before I woke up."
"Do you know what your name is?" He had to ask. He had been right in thinking her eyes were green. Even with tears in them they were a beautiful green.
She shook her head. The movement must have caused her head to burst into pain. She raised her hand to the wound on her forehead then groaned as she lightly touched the cut on her head. She felt the dried blood as she turned panic filled eyes toward Colton. "What happened to me?"
"You must have hit your head during the accident. When I found you, you were half in, half out of your car. The windshield was cratered; that’s what caused the bump on your forehead. I knew I couldn’t leave you there. You were cold and wet and, in case you haven’t noticed, it is snowing outside. I brought you here early this morning. You were so chilled all I could do was clean the cut on your head and try to warm you up. You’ve been sleeping almost all day. I checked on you a couple of times."
She glanced at the big picture window, and saw it was getting dark outside. The wind was still blowing the snow around. Crystals of ice were forming on the corners of the window. She shivered.
Colton decided to tell her the police were looking for her. "I had another visitor today. He was mighty interested in finding you."
She glanced at him with curiosity. "Who was he? What did he want?" She was like a child.
Colton grimaced. Her reaction didn’t make any sense to him. She should have been more afraid of someone finding her. "It was the local sheriff. The police are looking for you for questioning in a murder case over in Coven Glade." He watched closely for her reaction. "He said you were a dangerous character, you might be armed, and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me in order to avoid getting caught."
She paled. "I murdered someone? Oh my God. . ." her voice trailed off as she thought about that bit of information for a moment. She turned to Colton, "Did the police say who it was I murdered?" She didn't acknowledge the second part of his allegation. It probably didn’t make sense to her.
Colton shook his head. "No, all they wanted was information on your whereabouts. Quite frankly, I don’t think you murdered anybody." He paused, then remembered something else, "Do you know someone named Ian?"
She frowned then a blinding pain made her close her eyes. Tears welled, rolling down her cheeks. She moaned softly.
"Betty, are you all right." Colton frowned.
She opened her eyes slowly as the pain receded to a dull throbbing pain. She rubbed her temples. Colton saw the pain she was in. "What did you call me?"
"The sheriff that stopped here this morning said your name was Betty Morgan," Colton explained.
She tilted her head. "My name isn’t Betty." She frowned. "At least I don’t think it is."
Colton sighed. "You never did answer my earlier question. Do you know anyone named Ian?"
She shrugged. "I don’t know if I do or not. I wish I could say one way or the other, but I can’t even tell you what my name is. I don’t know if it’s Betty Morgan or something else."
Colton could see how scared she was--how frustrated she appeared to be. He didn’t know how to respond so he didn’t say anything. He studied her pose for a moment and decided if she was acting she deserved an Oscar. As far as he was concerned she wasn’t faking or playing up her situation. She really didn’t know who she was or what she was doing here.
He stood up and strode to the kitchen. He put food on a couple of plates then brought them back into the living room where, handing her a plate, he sat down beside her. He started eating.
She stared at the plate on her lap before picking up her fork and eating. She didn’t stop eating until her plate was clean. She gazed over at Colton. Surprised, she watched as he grinned. "Sorry, but I was hungry. The food was really great. I don’t think I’ve ever had chicken that tasted so good in my life."
"Don’t apologize. You haven’t eaten anything all day so you must have been starved." Colton took her plate and his back to the kitchen. He ignored the compliment because he liked to cook, mainly because he had to eat. As a matter of pride, he wanted the food to at least taste good.
When Colton returned he brought two cups of coffee. Handing her one he set the other one on the end table and turned on the television. From the sofa they caught the very end of a news report. It was a grizzly scene as police cars parked in front of a house in Coven Glade. Officers working behind yellow tape took up most of the picture. The house was a simple one. It was painted blue with white trim; the lawn was clipped. There were flowers in bloom in the front border that made it look like whoever lived there took care of the house.
News reporter Shay Phillips stood forward of the yellow tape. He was commenting on the crime that had taken place the night before. "Police are looking for a woman for questioning in the murder of Ian Carter. Mr. Carter was shot in the house right behind where I’m standing around 2 a.m. this morning. Police are certain a woman they are looking for is responsible for Carter’s death. They advise the woman is armed and dangerous. They are asking for your help in finding this woman. She’s about five feet two inches tall with dark red hair and green eyes. The police aren’t saying at this point what the motive behind the crime is. Please stay tuned for further details."
Colton turned the volume down glancing over at her. He was surprised to find her crying while staring at the picture of Ian on the silent screen.
"I guess we know who Ian is now, don’t we? We also know the police think I murdered him." Her words were quietly spoken, but they sounded loud in the silence that filled the room. She watched the TV screen, wouldn’t look at Colton, staring at the face on the television as if trying to remember who he was. He had a nice face. He was good looking with his blonde hair and soft grey eyes. He was clean-shaven.
"I don’t believe the news report." Colton told her. "In fact, I don’t think you killed anyone." He snapped the television off. He didn’t know what prompted him to say what he felt out loud but once he said the words he found he believed them. She didn’t look the type of woman to kill a man, not without a damn good reason.
She turned her head to look at him. "Why? You don’t even know me. How do you know I couldn’t kill a man? How do you know I’m not the person the police are looking for?"
Colton shrugged. "I’m not really sure why, I just don’t think you’re a cold blooded killer."
"But the police are looking for me." She sputtered. "You told me yourself a police officer was here this morning looking for me. I’m sure by now everyone in the area is looking for me. You told me yourself the sheriff mentioned I might be armed.
I’m considered dangerous! I’ll bet every farmer in the area is looking for me."
Colton snorted. "If Grayson Trainer is involved in this investigation, you can bet something isn’t kosher. I don’t trust him. You know you can’t believe everything you hear on the TV. Reporters only report what the police tell them. Grayson said this morning the police wanted you for questioning in a murder, not that you were a suspect in a murder."
She frowned at the name he gave the sheriff that had stopped here this morning. It rang a bell in her confused mind, but she didn’t know why. It was the same feeling she’d had when he mentioned Ian’s name before they saw the news report. She moistened her lips with her tongue again. "So what happens now? I mean you can’t keep me here, you have to call the police and tell them you found me."
"Why?" Colton asked as he sat back on the sofa.
She frowned. "What do you mean, why?"
"There’s something about this whole story that doesn’t make any sense to me. Until it does I’m not going to turn you over to anyone. "Colton told her simply.
"What about my car? Won’t the police find it? If they do, they’ll come here looking for me."
Colton shook his head. "The snow will have it buried by morning. If Grayson didn’t find it this morning, he won’t find it until the snow starts melting. That won’t be for at least a day or two. But he could come back here looking for you all the same."
"If he finds me here, you could be in trouble for letting me stay."
Colton grinned. "I’ll risk it."
"What about the news report that I’m armed and considered dangerous?" she asked.
"I’m probably more dangerous to you than you are to me right now. After all, you don’t know anything about me either," Colton pointed out.
She put her hands around her face, rubbing her temples. She was awfully tired all of a sudden. Her head was throbbing again. "I’m sorry but I think I need to lie down."
Colton nodded. "You can use the bedroom tonight. I’m going to sit here for awhile."
She stood up making her way back to the bedroom. There it was dark and quiet and she needed to be alone. The pillow felt cool to her head. As she closed her eyes she could see Ian’s face. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. Why she was crying she didn’t really know, but somehow she thought it had to do with Ian’s death.
Chapter Three
Colton was lying on the couch. He had taken off his shirt and loosened his jeans. A blanket covered his chest. All the lights were off and he was watching the fire burn down. He couldn’t help but wonder about his guest and what she had gotten him involved in. How she had gotten from Coven Glade to his back door, he didn’t know. He could only guess what really happened in Coven Glade. The house they showed on the news report didn’t look like the typical drug house. This house looked like every other suburban house. Like he told her earlier, something about this didn’t make sense to him. He needed more information on why the police were looking for her. So many scenarios were running through his head it was giving him a headache. He closed his eyes for a moment.
He awoke a little while later to the rhythmic sounds of the rocking chair. He laid still in the dark not wanting to move until he had a better feel for who was in the house. The glowing embers from the fire told him several hours had passed but still, it wasn’t hard to figure out who was sitting in the chair. There was only one other person in the house with him. Then he heard a different sound.
"Are you all right?" He asked her gently so as not to startle her. He had heard her crying in the dark and the sound tore into his heart. He couldn’t stand to hear a woman cry.
"No, I don’t think so," she told him as she stared into the embers. "Would you like to know what I remembered tonight?"
Colton frowned. "Sure." He had no idea where this was going but he knew whatever she remembered would fill in some of the mystery surrounding her.
"I remembered entering an alley. I think I was following someone but I can’t remember why or who I was following. I could hear more than one person talking, but I was too far away to understand what they were saying. I tried to get closer to the voices and I saw two men, one man was holding a gun on another man. They were arguing about something in the box one of them was holding. Then I heard a gun go off and I saw the man with his back to me fall. I remember looking down at him and I saw a red stain on his shirt. I was so shocked I couldn’t move. I remembered the man that shot him talking to someone else, but I couldn’t see the third man."
"Have you ever seen the man who was killed that night?" Colton asked.
"Yes, he was the man the police said was Ian Carter." Her voice was whispery and low. "But if Ian was murdered in the alley, why would the police say he died in the house we saw on TV last night? I don’t understand."
He wanted to tell her to go on, but he also knew the tale was a hard one to tell.
She wiped the tears away from her cheeks and after a few minutes continued with her story. "I was too far away to hear what they were saying. I only caught the tail end of the conversation. They were talking about the box Ian had in his hands. After the man shot him, I knew I couldn’t stay there. If they had seen me, they would have murdered me too. When I turned to get away, my foot kicked a bottle across the alley. The killer must have heard the noise because he called out, "Who’s there?" I was so scared I took off running. Somebody shot at me but missed. I made it as far as my car, but the killer was right behind me. I knew I had to get out of town so I got in my car and drove. I don’t remember driving this far, but I do remember seeing headlights following me the whole way. I sped up to try and lose them, but every corner I drove around they were right behind me.
"The car following me pulled up beside me, and I felt it bump mine. I almost lost control. I sped up but so did the other driver. He bumped my car again! I felt myself sliding off the road. I couldn’t see anything. I hit a tree. My forehead hit the windshield, and I was dazed.
"I remember hearing voices from above me. When I looked up, I saw headlights from another car. I saw the shadow of a man standing at the top of the rise and I felt a moment of panic. I shut off the engine and the lights then waited in the dark for the man to go away. When he finally did, I tried to get out of the car but I must have passed out." She inhaled a shuddering breath.
"Do you remember anything else?" Colton asked. "Wait a minute, you said they. Was there more than one person in that alley?"
"I think there was another man there. I couldn’t see anyone else but there must have been someone else." She shook her head. "No, I don’t remember anybody else but I have a feeling. It’s so confusing; it’s like its right there waiting for me to remember."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Have you ever had the answer to a question on the tip of your tongue? It’s like I have butterflies floating around inside my stomach, and instead of the feeling going away, it’s getting stronger and stronger."
Colton was at a loss as to whether to press her to think until she could remember everything. "I know that feeling." He shivered in the coolness of the room. He stood up to add more wood to the fire.
~ * ~
Her eyes followed him as he moved around the room. For the first time she really studied the man who had saved her life. When he bent over to throw another log on the fire, she saw the muscles in his forearm ripple as he tossed the wood on the glowing embers. His long legs and lean torso looked strong. For a moment she wanted to get up and wrap her arms around him.
Shaking her head she wondered why. When she didn’t even know her own name, she was having intimate feelings for a man she didn’t know. "I think I’ll try and get some rest now. I’m sorry I woke you."
Colton turned and smiled at her. "Hey, no problem. You needed to talk and I’m glad I was here to listen."