Angels Fall

by Nora Roberts

  before?

  "So. when did the painting start, exactly?"

  "Eleven. And you'd think that Reuben would be too tired to flap his lips in here today after working till three in the morning."

  Casually now, Reece warned herself. Very casual. Just making conversation. "Is that when they came in, eleven?"

  "Didn't I just say so? Reuben and Joe and Brenda."

  "Brenda? Hotel Brenda? I thought her brother was on the crew."

  "Dean had something else to do, so she said. She's better at the cutting in anyhow."

  Reece began to cook, and as she cooked she tried to imagine Reuben or Lo, Dean or Joe behind sunglasses and an orange hat, outside Brody's kitchen window.

  AFTER WORK, Reece snagged a ride home with Pete.

  "I appreciate you taking me to Brody's."

  "Not far, no problem."

  "Pete, what do you suppose Lo was up to last night?"

  "Some woman's skirt. Never can think without thinking with his dick—beg pardon."

  "I guess if that's so, he must've had more than his share of trouble with women."

  "Usually sweet-talks them out of kicking his balls into his throat__beg pardon again. But he won't have an easy time sweet-talking our Linda-gail. She's a tough nut."

  "You're right about that. Now take Reuben, for instance." Casually again, Reece reminded herself. "You don't see him with women, at least not right and left."

  "He gets around. He's just got the sense to be discreet." Pete slanted his gaze over to Reece, gave a quick, gap-toothed grin. "Had himself a red-hot fling last winter with a snow bunny. A married one."

  "Really?"

  "Kept it pretty quiet, but it ain't easy slipping in and out of a woman's hotel room without somebody noticing. That Brenda's got a nose for that sort of thing. Even if, as i heard, he came in through the basement entrance."

  " The hotel basement," she murmured.

  " Then word got out altogether when they had a hell of a row one night. Her yelling and throwing things. Beaned him with some sort of perfume bottle, it seems. He ended up hightailing it out of there, face all scratched up, boots in his hand."

  "What did she look like?"

  "What?"

  "The snow bunny, the woman. I guess I'm just curious."

  "Good-looking brunette, as I recall. About ten years older than Reuben's what I heard, too. Called him up at the ranch off and on for weeks after, crying, yelling, spitting. Reuben, he confessed to me one night over a few beers how the experience put him clean off married women."

  "That would do it." They were already turning toward Brody's. "I guess Brenda's brother. Dean, had a hot date last night."

  "Or a poker game." Pete clucked his tongue. "I tell you a fact, that boy's got ten dollars in his pocket, he's going to stake himself to Texas Hold 'Em with it. That's why he's broke more often than not, and shining up Brenda for a loan. Gambling's bad as heroin you don't know how to handle it."

  He stopped his truck in front of the cabin. "Heard you had some doings out here last night."

  "I guess everyone's heard by now."

  "Don't you let it get you down, Reece."

  Curious, she turned to him. "How come you don't think I'm crazy?"

  "Hell, who says you're not?" He smiled. "Everybody is, to some extent or other. But you say somebody was prowling around out here. I figure there was."

  "Thanks." She opened the door, shifted to smile at him as she got out. "Thanks. Pete."

  "Nothing to it."

  There was to her. Maybe the cops didn't believe her, but Pete did. And Brody, Linda-gail, Joanie. Doc Wallace suspected she was manifesting, but he was trying to look out for her. Mac Drubber probably thought she needed a few screws tightened, but he'd bought Parmesan because she wanted it.

  She had a lot of people on her side. And another angle to pursue.

  She found Brody on the back porch, drinking a Coke and reading a paperback.

  He glanced up, and as he was obviously please with what he saw, a smile flitted at the corners of his mouth. "How'd it go today?"

  "From bad to better. Doc's happy I've gained some weight, and proposed the possibility that my orange-hatted man is a manifestation of my fears and survivor's guilt—but is willing to be open-minded, if I am. Mr. Drubber ordered me some fresh Parm, and Pete gave me a thumbnail rundown on the romantic lives of a couple of guys in town."

  "Been busy."

  "And then some. Lo lied to Linda-gail about his whereabouts last night."

  "He's been known to play it pretty loose with the ladies." Brody laid the book aside. "You think Lo's a killer?"

  "He'd be the last I'd have picked. Damn it, I like him, and my friend's in love with him. But isn't it, traditionally, the least likely who's the one? Isn't that how it works?"

  "In fiction, and only in good fiction if it makes sense. Lo bangs the ladies, Slim, but he doesn't choke them to death."

  "And if one threatened him in some way, pushed him until he snapped?" She crouched by Brody's chair. "Reuben had a hot affair with a violent ending with a married woman last winter."

  "From Lothario to the Singing Cowboy?"

  "'It should be possible to find out where he was last night. He didn't start painting at Joanie's until eleven. And Brenda's brother didn't show at all."

  "So you've decided on your suspect list because you're not sure where these three guys were last night—at the time in question."

  "I have to start somewhere. Fighting back. Substantiate where they were, take them off the list. Can't substantiate, keep them on."

  "And, what, work your way through every man in the Fist?"

  "If necessary. I can cross some off. Hank—the bushy beard and his build is huge. I'd never have missed that. Pete, because he's too little. We talked about this before, right after, but never really focused on it."

  "No, I guess we didn't."

  "So, anyone over, say, sixty-five, under twenty. This wasn't an old man or a kid. Anyone with a beard or mustache, considerably over or under average height and weight. I know he might not be in the Fist—"

  "Yeah, I think he is."

  "Why'"

  "You didn't hear a car last night. How'd he get away from the cabin without one?"

  "Walked?"

  "Maybe had a car far enough away not to be noticed. But, if this is someone from outside, he'd have to be in and around enough to get your routine, to know when you're out of your place, at work, here. Somebody would notice and, however innocently, comment. Comments get around."

  "They do," Reece agreed. "They really do."

  "And nobody's stayed at the hotel for more than a week since April. No single men for more than two. Some of the cabins have rented, but again not for long and all to families or groups. Could be a family man or part of a group, but it doesn't play as well for me."

  "You've done some research."

  "One of my things. Could be camping," Brody continued, "but he'd have to come in for supplies. Even if he went somewhere else for them, he'd have to come in to get a handle on your routine, to do what he's done. If he came in more than once, he gets noticed. So. going with that reasoning, he's one of us."

  "Brody. I don't want to call the police in again unless it's… let's be dramatic. Unless it's life or death."

  "Just you and me, Slim."

  "I like you and me."

  "Funny. So do I."

  SHE DECIDED TO offset the stir-fry of the night before with a manly meal of pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and biscuits. While the potatoes cooked and the chops marinated, she sat down at the kitchen table with her laptop.

  The list came first, every male in Angel's Fist she could think of who fit her very wide profile.

  Along with the names, she keyed in the basics she knew of them.

  William (Lo) Butler, late twenties. Lived in Angel's Fist most of his life. Knows the area well, understands tracking, hiking, camping, etc. (Could the couple by the river have come there on horseback?)
Cowboy type, womanizer. Drives a pickup. Easy access to Joanie's office—and keys. Violent streak when riled, as demonstrated at Clancy's.

  It seemed so cold, she thought as she read. And unfair perhaps not to note that he seemed so sweet-natured, loved his mother and had considerable charm.

  She continued with Reuben.

  Early to mid-thirties, she supposed. Employed at Circle K Guest Ranch. Knows area well, as above. Hood with his hands. Pickup—with gun rack. Is in town at least once a week. Likes to sing at Clancy's. Previous affair with married woman, possibly victim).

  She blew out a breath. She knew he liked his meat rare, his potatoes fried and his pie a la mode. That didn't say much for her purposes.

  She continued on, listing names, information, then stopped with a twinge of guilt as she thought of Doc Wallace. He was hitting toward the top of her age barrier. But he was healthy, even robust. He hiked, fished and was welcome everywhere. And wouldn't a man who healed know how to kill?

  Then there was Mac Drubber. Dean, Liquor Store Jeff, the stalwart sheriff, accommodating Lynt. And more besides. The idea of listing them all, men she knew, some she considered friends, made her feel a little ill.

  She made herself finish, copied to a thumb drive. When she had put the laptop away, she soothed her nerves and guilt with cooking.

  ACROSS THE LAKE, Lo knocked on Linda-gail's door. He had a single pink rose in his hand and lust in his belly.

  When the door opened, he held out the rose and said, "Hey, baby."

  Linda-gail ignored the rose and fisted a hand on her hip. "What do you want?"

  "You." He made a grab for her with his free hand, but she stepped back and gave the door a boot that nearly slammed it into his face.

  He caught it on the shoulder, butted it open again. "What's the problem. Jesus, Linda-gail."

  "I don't take flowers from liars. So you can just turn around and get your boots walking."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" This time he kicked the door when she swung it. "Cut that out. I put in fourteen hours today so I could get tonight off and see you."

  "Is that so? Seems unfair when you had to work extra last night, too. With a colicky horse." She saw his wince, and her eyes narrowed. "You lying son of a bitch. You may have been rolling in the hay, but it wasn't with any damn horse."

  "It wasn't like that. Just hold on."

  "How could you lie to me like that?" She swung on her heel, stomped away. "I told you I wouldn't be one of the herd for you, Lo."

  "You're not. You couldn't be. Hell, you never were. Let's just sit down a minute."

  "I don't want you sitting down in my house. I gave you what you wanted. Now it's done.

  "Don't say that. Linda-gail. Honey. It's not anything like what you think."

  "Then what is it, Lo? You didn't lie to me?"

  He shoved back his hat. "Well, yeah. I did, but—"

  "Get out."

  He tossed the rose, then his hat. aside. "I am not leaving like this. Yeah. I lied to you about last night, but I had a good reason to."

  "Oh? And what's her name?"

  The frustration, the hint of embarrassment hardened on his face into cold anger. "I don't cheat. Never have, not with women, not with cards, not with anything. If I'm ready to move on. then I break it off first. I don't two-time anyone. Why would I start with you when you're the one who matters?"

  "I don't know." Her eyes filled. "I wish I did."

  "I wasn't with another woman, Linda-gail, I swear it."

  "And I am just supposed to take your word on that, when you've already lied to me?"

  "You got a point. But I've got one, too. If you love me, you need to trust me on this one thing."

  "Trust gets earned, William." Furious with them, she dashed the tears away. " Tell me where you were."

  "I cant. Not yet. Don't turn away. Don't, honey. I had something I needed to do. It wasn't another woman."

  "Then why won't you tell me?"

  '"I will, it you just wait till Saturday night."

  "What's Saturday night got to do with it?"

  "I can't tell you that, either, or not all of it. But it's all part of the whole thing. Give me until Saturday night. I want a Saturday night date with you."

  She finally gave up, sat down. "You want a date with me after you lied and won't tell me why?"

  "That's right. Trust me on this one thing. I'm banking it'll be worth it to you." He crouched down now, brushed a tear from her cheek. "I swear on my life, Linda-gail, it wasn't another woman."

  She sniffled. "You rob a bank?"

  And he smiled, slow and utterly charming. "No, not exactly. Do you love me?"

  "It seems I do, though its awfully inconvenient and annoying right this minute."

  "I love you, too. It's getting so I like saying it."

  She took his face so she could study it closely. "You've got till Saturday night, and God help me. Lo, I believe you when you say it wasn't another woman. I don't see how you'd hurt me that way. So don't make a fool out of me."

  "I couldn't if I tried." He took her wrists, then leaned in to touch his lips to hers. "I wouldn't it I could."

  "I was going to make a pizza." she announced. "I like pizza when I'm feeling sad and mad. I guess I like it however I'm feeling. You can share my pizza, Lo, but you're not sharing my bed. If I have to wait for Saturday night for the truth, you'll have to wait until then for sex."

  "I guess that's fair. Painful, but fair." He got to his feet, reached out a hand for hers. "You got a beer to go with the pie?"

  HE WAS COMING, through the dark, through the wind. Her boots rang on the hard-packed trail. Could he hear them? She heard nothing but the wind and the river, but she knew he was coming, moving steadily behind her like a shadow, slipping closer and closer. Soon his breath would be on the back of her neck; soon his hand would curl around her throat.

  She'd lost all sense of direction. How had she gotten here? Her only choice was ahead, up and up so that her legs wept with the effort.

  The slice of moon showed her the curve of the trail, the rock face, the dangerous and hypnotic gleam of the river below. It showed her the way, but the way held no escape. And it would guide him to her.

  She chanced a look behind her, saw nothing but sky and canyon. Relief came with a choked sob. She'd gotten away, somehow. It she could just keep going, keep running, she'd find her way back. She'd be safe again.

  But when she turned, stumbling forward, he was there. In front of her now, impossible. Blocking her path. Still she couldn't see