Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 2 of 2 (50 page)

“I thought it only fair that Jimmy's half brother have a better life,” Robert said.

Chance sprang to his feet. “Jeremy Block is a bigamist?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“That's why he wouldn't divorce me—we weren't actually married,” Lily said. “He couldn't go to court and have that come out. Didn't he know all he had to do was tell me that? I would have danced in the streets.”

“He didn't want you to dance in the streets,” Chance said.

“But what good does this do us?” Elizabeth said.

“Don't you see?” Lily demanded, staring right into her eyes. “Jeremy can no longer deny his past and his current behavior. With two of us to tell the world—”

She stopped talking because Elizabeth was shaking her head. “The only reason I'm alive is that Jeremy can't get to me in here. We allowed you entrance to White Cliff because Robert had met you at Jeremy's house and we were curious to see what you wanted, especially when you lied about yourself. We let Mr. Hastings in because Robert recognized his face on our surveillance camera from that night we took Charlie. No one else gets in here.”

“Elizabeth,” Lily pleaded, “listen to me. When you decided that your son's death was something to be privately mourned and laid to rest, you were robbing society of finding the true murderer of a young man. That murderer is still out there after having gotten away with a heinous crime. Maybe they'll strike again and someone else will die. And for your son to have taken the blame—it had to be someone he trusted and cared for deeply.”

“Someone like Tabitha Stevens,” Chance said, meeting Lily's gaze.

“Yes. Or her boyfriend Todd or even Betsy. How do we know who Jimmy met and what he got himself into?” She turned back to Elizabeth. “You've let hiding become a way of life for you. I understand, I did the same thing. But it's time to make Jeremy pay for his past, time to protect innocent people from his manipulations, time to stand up.” All this sounded righteous enough but it rang hollow. Charlie was halfway back to Boise by now.

“Why did you let Maria take the boy?” Robert asked Elizabeth.

“I didn't
let
her,” Elizabeth said, looking up at him. “She panicked when she found the drugs in Lily's room and then when she heard you had abducted her and brought her to this house, she went nuts. She grabbed the boy and said she had to find somewhere else to take him, that he would ruin everything for everyone if he stayed here. I heard him beg to see his mommy. Why didn't I listen to him?”

Lily knew why. Elizabeth hadn't listened to Charlie or her own common sense because she hated Jeremy with an unabated passion. Her desire to hurt him overrode her ethics and morals and who got to pay for it? Charlie, that's who.

Lily had steeled herself not to break down, but it was a struggle to hold back the anger. How could Maria have done this? But there was another unavoidable consideration. What would have happened if Lily had been honest with everyone from the get-go? It had seemed like such a horrible risk, one she'd been unable to take, and now look where it had all ended up.

They stood or sat in an informal circle, staring at their hands or their feet, no one willing to meet anyone else's gaze. Lily took Chance's hand. It was time for them to return to Boise and the authorities, time for Lily to face the warrant and then press charges, time to fight for her child before he disappeared out of the country.

He looked down at her and seemed to understand what she was thinking. He put his face next to hers but just then the door banged open and they all turned in shock.

Maria stood on the threshold. For once, she did not look calm and controlled. Her eyes grew huge as she looked at Lily, and Lily's heart sank.

“Where is he?” Lily demanded, stepping toward Maria. “Where is Charlie?”

Maria finally tore her gaze from Lily and looked at her sister. “I didn't know where to take him,” she said. “He started sobbing when I mentioned his daddy. I couldn't take him there.”

“Thank goodness,” Elizabeth said. “We've been all wrong about Lily.”

“I found a whole bottle of pills in her room just this morning,” Maria said, suspicion and judgment harsh in her voice.

“I know you did, but there's a reason for that and it's not what you think. Where is the boy? He needs to be with his mother.”

Maria looked from Elizabeth to Robert. “Just like that? You two put this whole community in jeopardy and now you're just going to let her take him?”

“Yes,” Robert Brighton said. “That's what we're going to do.”

Maria glanced over her shoulder at her car. That was enough for Lily who ran past her. Charlie was curled up on the backseat. She opened the door and sat beside him, just taking a second to catch her breath so she wouldn't add to his fear. Dark circles ringed his eyes, dried tears clung to his lashes. She ran her hand along his arm. He opened his eyes with a start and began to withdraw and then he saw who it was. Relief swept away the trepidation.

Holding him and rocking him, Lily kissed his cheeks and peered into his eyes. His precious freckled face looked wan and tired but otherwise okay. Knowing she had been locked in a bedroom last night while Charlie had slept in another one in the same house stung deep, but in this instant of reunion, the pain subsided and Lily's heart seemed to burst in her chest. She buried her head against his warm little neck and uttered soothing words. “You're okay now, baby, you're safe, Mommy is here.”

She was suddenly aware that Chance's hands were on her shoulders and he was leaning down. “Hey there, buddy,” Chance said and Charlie tore himself from his mother's embrace and threw himself at Chance. As Lily got out of the car, she watched Chance lift her son in the air above his head. Charlie laughed and squealed and she was reminded of the first time Charlie met Chance. But now she also recalled the other sensation she'd had that day. This was how a relationship between a man and a small child was supposed to be: fun, exciting, liberating, not fraught with worry and tension. With Jeremy, Charlie had always known he wasn't quite good enough, he didn't measure up. Even if he couldn't articulate the concept, he felt it at the core of his being.

If she ended up in jail until things got straightened out, would the courts allow Charlie to stay with Chance and the others at the Hastings Ranch? With Gerard's Kinsey in residence and Chance's stepmother, Grace, around, there would be two women to nurture him and five men to teach him how to be a man.

Or would the courts hand him over to Jeremy? She had decided that if she ever got Charlie back, she would act responsibly and legally and strike to win in the courts no matter what the odds. But now that she had him, the temptation to run was so tantalizing it was scary.

Chance finally handed Charlie back to her. As she took him into her arms, Chance leaned down and kissed her briefly, then winked. “You're not married,” he said.

“I know,” she said as Charlie wiggled down to stand beside her.

“How fantastic is that?”

“Pretty darn fantastic.” It didn't really solve any of the more pressing issues, but it felt great to know she wouldn't have to go through a divorce. In fact, between what Chance could tell authorities about Jeremy trying to pay him to kill Lily and what she knew about Jeremy's past now, especially in regards to bigamy and destroying evidence, it began to look hopeful there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. She would stay and fight.

They started to walk back to the house but Charlie grabbed his mother's hand and tried to hold her back. “I want to go home,” he said.

“Did those people hurt you, honey?”

“No,” he admitted with a trembling lower lip. “Seth is my friend. I just want to go home. I want to see Grandpa Harry.”

Chance smiled. Harry Hastings was Chance's dad. He and Charlie had bonded during the summer.

“I know you do,” Lily said wishing he hadn't named the Hastings ranch as his home. But what other options had she given him? A big, cold mansion with an uncaring father or the sublet in Reno? Neither held a candle to the Hastings ranch and she knew it. “We're not staying here,” she assured him. “We just have to clear up a couple of things.”

Chance leaned down and picked the boy up. “I'll hold on to you,” he said. “No one is going to take you without your permission ever again, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He wrapped his arms around Chance's neck and Chance smiled at Lily. He took her hand and they walked back inside the house.

Robert Brighton now sat on the sofa, Maria beside him, deep in conversation. Elizabeth looked up as the three of them entered and smiled. “You make a lovely family,” she said.

“We're not actually a family,” Chance said quickly.

Lily figuratively shook her head. Elizabeth's words must be terrifying to a confirmed bachelor like him. Between Charlie's innocent comment a moment before and now this bombshell, the poor guy was probably trying to figure out an exit plan. And hadn't she entertained a momentary fantasy outside when Chance lifted Charlie above his head?

“I've been thinking about what you said,” Elizabeth added. “You're right. I need to clear Jimmy's name. I need to help find the true murderer. We need to see those journals and make sure they're Jimmy's.”

Lily nodded. “I've been thinking, too. I took a bunch of stuff from Jeremy when I left him. It's locked in the trunk of my car. I know more now than I did when I went through it all before. Maybe if I look again, something will jump out at me.”

“It's worth a shot,” Elizabeth said.

Maria stood up and approached Lily. “I owe you an apology. With Robert gone for weeks at a time and Elizabeth struggling with grief and illness...it was terrible after Jimmy died. He and Dennis were pretty close. We were all shaken up and then not to even have his body to bury, to have to pretend...well, I almost left White Cliff. I thought if that's the level of commitment required to live here, was it worth it?”

“A girl at the bakery mentioned that you withdrew after Christmas. That was after Jimmy died, wasn't it?”

“You're referring to Betsy. Nice girl. I didn't know she noticed. I just looked at my own sons and wondered...well, here we are nine months later and I was willing to do almost anything to protect this...this place. I'm getting paranoid.”

That ought to make her fit right in at White Cliff, Lily thought. The whole place was paranoid.

“Now, I'd like to help,” Maria declared.

“Then get the envelopes of data and things out of my car,” Lily said, “and help Elizabeth and I look for something I can show the police. I'll do everything I can to downplay your community's involvement. Jeremy has to be discredited for all our sakes.”

Chance looked at Brighton. “Why don't you and I go get that trunk and bring it back here? And then I need to find Tabitha Stevens and see what she knows about Jimmy. It's suddenly occurred to me that the moment this goes public, she might be in danger from Wallace Connor's murderer.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Two hours later and Elizabeth, tears still streaming down her face from finding her photo in with her son's things, confirmed the notebooks were filled with Jimmy's handwriting. They'd each thumbed through the almost illegible raucous events of Jimmy's rich fantasy life looking for clues as to the identities of any other people Jimmy might have met. Even Seth had offered to help and though he had to be in his early twenties, he blushed more than once as he waded through his dead stepbrother's words.

When Maria's son, Dennis, showed up, greeted Chance and offered to help read, his mother sent him to the kitchen to make sandwiches. “He's too young to read this stuff,” Maria said, glancing at the open notebook on Elizabeth's lap. “Heck, I think I'm too young.”

“You could knock me over with a feather,” Elizabeth said as Maria left to help Dennis. “I had no idea my boy had such an imagination.”

Chance looked at Lily and a kind of communication raced between them. The events were way too graphic for a kid without experience to be able to make it all up. It sure seemed to Chance as though Tabitha and Jimmy had had a torrid affair. How many other people knew about it? Was Wallace Connor killed because he found out and tried to put a stop to it? But why down in Boise? And if it was true Jimmy couldn't have murdered him, then who?

“I don't understand what Jimmy was doing in the Connor van all the way down in Boise,” he said aloud.

“No one does,” Brighton said.

Chance checked his watch. He'd tried calling Tabitha's grandfather an hour ago to urge him to pick her up from school and keep her under his watchful gaze, but the phone had gone unanswered and truthfully, Chance had almost been glad. He wasn't looking forward to the old guy's supposition that Chance was lusting after his granddaughter.

After the sandwiches, Charlie fell asleep on the sofa between Lily and Seth with his tractor clutched in his small hands. Lily sorted the papers she must have looked at a dozen times already. “Any luck?” Chance asked her.

“No.” She picked up a stack of photos and flipped through them. “Pretty girls, fast-looking boats, dead fish...wait a second. Elizabeth, describe the photo you sent with Maria. Better yet, I'll describe it to you. A young man's profile, three pretty large fish displayed on a newspaper, a hole in the ice and the left half of a sign that says Freed La. I take it that's the sign on Freedom Lake?”

“You have the photo?” Elizabeth cried. “Let me see it.”

Chance took it from Lily so she wouldn't have to disrupt the sleeping child and handed it to Elizabeth. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that it was a Polaroid.

“This is it! Robert, this is it! If you get a magnifying glass, you can see that the paper is dated the same day the Connor boy was killed in Boise.”

It was on the tip of Chance's tongue to point out the police might claim the photo could have been staged and taken at a later date using an old newspaper and then he realized that was impossible. Jimmy had turned himself in the day after this newspaper was printed and had not come back to White Cliff ever again. It wasn't the kind of photo that could be doctored, either. The technology in the old Polaroid instant camera was ancient by today's standards.

Brighton looked concerned. “The police will show up in White Cliff,” he said. “My father would roll over in his grave if he knew.”

“Then I suggest you preempt some of the trouble by going to see them yourselves,” Chance said. “Be open and up-front, don't hide the truth. This will eventually be figured out. Jimmy will be exonerated and the true culprit will be caught.”

“You really believe that, don't you?” Brighton said.

“Yes.”

“I was not raised to trust our government or any of its agencies.”

“I was,” Chance said, smiling to himself when he thought of his father's very firm opinions on the matter of authority. He was also thinking to himself that a lot of people he knew personally were uptight about the police getting into the middle of their lives until someone robbed, cheated or bashed them over the head, something no one here would think of doing. The White Cliff people seemed to live what they preached.

He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of the photograph. Now he would have something to show the police in Greenville, something tangible to show Tabitha and hopefully elicit her grandfather's understanding.

“I've got to drive into town,” he said as he stood.

Charlie woke up just then and upon hearing Chance's words, rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his fists. “Don't go, Uncle Chance,” he said.

Lily hushed him. “How about we come along with you?” she asked, looking up at Chance.

“Sure,” he said, glad for the company. He didn't look forward to talking to Pastor Stevens again.

“Will you come back here after you've done what you need to do?” Brighton asked.

“Yes.”

“Considering everything we've put you through, I consider that a leap of faith.”

“So do I,” Chance said. “Don't forget it.”

* * *

I
N
THE
END
, Seth rode along with them in Lily's car, Chance at the wheel. He was very pleased to have Lily beside him though there was an undercurrent between them now. Charlie had been the pivotal force before, his safety and welfare triumphing over any other concern. But now that he was safe, there was a whole lot to figure out.

They'd brought along a book or two so Seth offered to stay in the car and read to Charlie while Chance and Lily went to speak to the old pastor.

This time the tidy house had an abandoned feel to it as they approached. The front door stood ajar. Considering the heavy skies and dropping temperature it seemed an odd thing. Chance knocked on it while holding the knob. “I should warn you the good pastor believes I'm a pervert,” he told Lily, who looked up at him with wide eyes.

“How did he figure that out about you so fast?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” He knocked again and then rang the bell.

“Maybe he's hard of hearing,” Lily said.

“I don't think so. Anyway, it's late enough that his granddaughter is probably out of school.” He stepped inside the house. “Pastor Stevens? Are you here? Tabitha?”

They heard the mewing of a cat coming from behind a closed door. Chance crossed the small, austere room, rapped on a connecting door with his knuckles, then opened it. A small gray cat darted between his feet and headed for the still open front door.

Chance barely noticed this because his gaze had returned to the room and what he saw there riveted him in place. Before he could warn her not to, Lily reached his side and looked past him into the room.

“Oh, no,” she said with a gasp as her hands flew up to cover her mouth.

The pastor had been shot right through his heart while he sat at his desk with a half a dozen books lying open in front of him. The expression on his face telegraphed surprise, not horror. There was a lot of blood on the chair and the wall behind him. His open death stare told Chance that checking for a pulse was unnecessary, but he did it anyway and shook his head when he faced Lily.

“Where's Tabitha?” she asked.

“Good question. Look upstairs, I'll search down here. Try not to touch anything you don't have to touch.”

“What about the police?”

“I'll call them.”

He dialed 911 as he searched for Tabitha. There wasn't a single sign of her except for a backpack sitting by the door in the kitchen as though dropped there minutes before. Tabitha's initials were written on the shoulder strap. Lily showed up with an ashen face. “Someone who apparently knew the combination opened a gun safe in the pastor's bedroom. It looks like a handgun is missing. Did you get the police yet?”

“I'm trying. The signal is really weak. How about your phone?”

“I forgot to get it back from Robert Brighton.”

“Wait, it's ringing,” he said. As soon as he heard a voice, he reported the address and that there had been a shooting but he had no chance to deliver any details because the signal suddenly died.

“Let's use the pastor's phone,” Lily suggested.

“I haven't seen one. Maybe he had a cell but I'm not checking his body to find it. Let's wait outside,” he told Lily and took her hand.

They found Seth and Charlie standing on the sidewalk. Lily looked up at Chance and paused midstep. “I really don't want Charlie to see a dead body removed from this house. Frankly, I would rather he not even see the police. He's been through enough and this has nothing to do with him.”

“Or Seth. Let's send them both back to White Cliff in your car. We can take my truck when we're finished here. It's parked over by the church.”

“I can't believe I'm sending Charlie away with one of the people who kidnapped him,” she murmured.

“Life is strange,” Chance agreed. “You can leave yourself if you want to. I'll explain it to the cops.”

“No. If I'm going to be the mother Charlie deserves, it better start here. I don't want anyone saying I ran out when my fingerprints are undoubtedly inside that house.”

They explained things to Seth who was delighted to leave before the police arrived. Lily handed over her keys while Chance handed him a five and told him to buy ice cream on their way out of town. There were no arguments from Charlie as they drove away; Lily was the one near tears. Chance looped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “He'll be okay.”

“I know he will. But I just got him back.” She sighed deeply. “Chance, who killed the pastor, do you have any idea?”

“Suspicions,” he said, “but nothing concrete enough to mention. What I really don't get is why.” They stood there another ten minutes without hearing a siren. In that time, the clouds overhead grew increasingly ominous as though Pastor Stevens's wrath gathered in the heavens. “I'm wondering if my message got through to the police after all,” Chance said at last.

“Should we go look harder for the pastor's phone?”

“Do you want to go back in that house?”

“No.”

“Me neither. Wait here.” He jogged up the path to the house and closed the door, then walked back to Lily. “The church is only two blocks that way,” he said pointing. “Let's go get the truck and drive to the police station.”

“Anything is better than standing here,” she said and they fell into step. The clouds broke a few minutes into their walk, and they picked up their pace but there was no way to escape the downpour. Lily had her hooded coat, but Chance had stopped wearing his Stetson a couple of days before in an effort to blend in. The little fatigue cap wasn't enough to offer any protection, but he didn't really need any. How many cattle drives had included unexpected weather? Almost every single one. You just kept going.

He was digging in his pocket for his truck keys when Lily grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the same tree they'd hidden behind the night before.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“I just saw Betsy Connor walk around to the back of the church.”

“Uh-oh. That can't be good. I wish we knew for sure where Tabitha was.”

“My money is on the maintenance room.”

“Maybe. Okay, I'm going to get to my truck and take the gun out of the back. We've got to make sure Betsy isn't in trouble. Do you want to wait in the truck?”

She flashed him a wry smile. “What do you think?”

“I think you want to come with me but I also think you'd better consider what's good for Charlie. He needs his mom.”

“Point taken,” she conceded. They ran to the truck and Lily slid inside.

Chance took his revolver out of the locked case and handed her the truck keys. “If anything goes wrong, get yourself out of here, okay, Lily?”

“Chance, I—”

“Not now, sweetheart,” he said. “I'm in a hurry. Lock the doors. I'll be back.” He leaned inside and kissed her. Her lips were cool and wet and perfectly delicious. He tore himself away and ran toward the back of the church.

The back door stood open this time. He entered as quietly as possible, almost tiptoeing in the big black combat boots so his footsteps wouldn't be heard downstairs. Wet marks on the floor possibly belonged to Betsy. If so, she apparently hadn't known where to look first. The marks seemed to wander room to room as though she searched much the way he and Lily had the night before. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours ago?

The floor joists were solid and he heard no giveaway creaks or groans as he moved directly to the head of the stairs where he paused to listen for voices. What came next was a bloodcurdling scream and then a shot. All bets off now, he thundered down the stairs, cursing his earlier caution.

The maintenance room door stood open. Sounds of sobbing came from inside. He paused at the threshold, gun drawn, took a hasty glance inside and felt a chill race through his bones.

The glimpse into the room was a glimpse into hell. Betsy lay on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. Todd, who Chance had only seen once when he came into the bakery to visit Betsy, lay on the bed, half-dressed, bound and gagged and obviously dead. Tabitha stood by the furnace, a gun in her hand, her eyes dark and foreboding as she stared at Betsy's still form. She seemed oblivious to Chance's presence, her gaze only leaving Betsy when she darted a glance at what was left of Todd.

With his heart in his throat, Chance knelt down to check on Betsy and found the bullet had lodged in her shoulder. She opened her eyes as he touched her. It was obvious she recognized him. “Help me,” she whispered.

“Stay still,” he murmured and stood again. This time, Tabitha's gaze met his and he flinched. The girl's eyes were wild, her bloodred hair an obscene punctuation in this unholy mess. Mascara bled down her cheeks in black streaks.