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Authors: Carol Ericson

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Chapter Four

Duke’s eyebrows shot up at the sob in Beth’s voice. Someone had smashed the window of her rental car and she was worried about a frog?

“Beth?” He placed his hand against the nape of her neck and curled his fingers around the soft skin beneath her down vest. “What frog, Beth?”

She sniffled and dragged the back of her hand across her nose. “Some frog I bought in a gift store. I... It’s particular to Timberline.”

“I’m sure they have more.” He released her and braced his hand against the roof of the car. Why was she overreacting about a frog? She must be driving herself hard again, maybe even succumbing to those panic attacks that had plagued her for years.

Because she didn’t even know about the warning the FBI had received about her. He’d debated telling her but didn’t want to worry her needlessly about an anonymous email. Who knew? The emailer may have sent the same message to Beth or her production company. Maybe that was why she was breaking down over a frog.

“You can replace the frog. Will your insurance fix the window on the rental car?”

“I’m sure I’m covered for that.” She leaned into the passenger seat and peeked beneath the seat.

“It’s gone?”

“Yep.”

He kicked a piece of glass with the toe of his boot. “You’re not sitting on glass, are you? The window broke inward, so there’s gotta be some on the seat.”

“There wasn’t.” She climbed out of the car and gripped the edge of the door as if to keep herself steady and upright. “He must’ve brushed it off.”

“We’re reporting this.” Duke pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled through his contacts and placed a call to the Timberline Sheriff’s Department. “We have some vandalism, a broken car window, in the public lot on the corner of Main and River.”

He gave them his name and a description of Beth’s rental car before ending the call.

“Are they coming?” She cupped the keys to the car in one hand and bounced them in her palm.

“Of course. This isn’t LA.” He grabbed her hand and held it up, inspecting the dot of blood on the tip of her ring finger. “There
was
some glass in the car. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her wide eyes focused on the blood and she swayed—another overreaction. She seemed to be taking this break-in hard. Maybe she
did
know about the warning against her—and he didn’t mean Bill’s drunken threats.

Grasping her wrist lightly, he said, “Come with me to my car down the aisle. I have some tissues in there and some water.”

By the time they reached his rental, she’d regained a measure of composure. “Idiots. Why would someone go through all the trouble of breaking a window on a rental car to get to a bag of stuff from a tourist shop?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t left your bag on the passenger seat in plain view.” He unlocked his car and reached into the backseat for a box of tissues, and then grabbed the half-filled bottle of water from his cup holder. “How many times have I told you not to leave things in your car?”

“Let’s see.” She held out her middle finger. “Must’ve been a hundred times at least.”

“Very funny. It’s your ring finger.” At least she’d come out of her daze.

“Oops.” She held out the correct finger and wiggled it.

He moistened a tissue with some water and held it against the bead of blood. “Apply some pressure to that. Did you get cut anywhere else?”

“Not that I can tell.” She tipped her chin toward the cop car rolling into the parking lot. “The deputies are here.”

As two deputies got out of the car, Duke whispered in Beth’s ear. “That’s what I like about Timberline. Two cops come out to investigate a broken window and a missing frog.”

She stiffened beside him but a laugh gurgled in her throat.

She’d sure grown attached to that frog in a short span of time...unless there was something else in the bag she didn’t want to tell him about. With Beth St. Regis, the possibilities were limitless.

The first deputy approached them, adjusting his equipment belt. “You call in the broken window?”

“And a theft. I had a bag in the car from Timberline Treasures.”

The second deputy pointed at Beth. “You’re Beth St. Regis from that show.”

“Do you watch it?”

“No, just heard you were in town to dig up the old Timberline Trio case.”

“I think Wyatt Carson already did that.” She jerked her thumb at Duke. “You do know the FBI is looking into the case again, too.”

The officer nodded at Duke and stuck out his hand. “Deputy Stevens. I heard the FBI was sending in a cold-case agent. The sheriff already turned over our files, right?”

“Special Agent Duke Harper.” He shook hands with the other man. “And I have the files.”

The other officer stepped forward, offering his hand as well. “Deputy Unger. We’ll do whatever we can to help you. My mother was good friends with Mrs. Brice at the time of the kidnapping. I was about five years older than Heather when she went missing. That family was never the same after that. Had to leave the area.”

Beth was practically buzzing beside him. “Deputy Unger, could I interview you for the show?”

“Ma’am, no disrespect intended, but I’m here to help the FBI. I’m not interested in being a part of sensationalizing the crime. We’ve had enough of that lately.”

“But...”

Duke poked her in the back. “You wanna have a look at the car now?”

“Sure. We’ll take a report for the rental-car company and insurance purposes. Probably a kid or one of our local junkies.”

Duke asked, “Do you have a drug problem in Timberline?”

“Crystal meth, just like a lot of rural areas.” Unger flipped open his notebook and scribbled across the page.

When they finished taking the report, they shook hands with Duke again. “Anything we can do, Agent Harper.”

“Well, they weren’t very friendly.” Beth curled one fist against her hip.

“I thought they were very friendly.”

“Yeah, you get the cops and I get Carson’s ex-girlfriend’s dog walker’s cousin.”

“Second cousin’s ex–dog sitter.”

“Right.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat of the car and hung on the door. “Thanks for seeing me through the report...and the words of advice.”

He was close enough to her that the musky smell of her perfume wafted over him. “Do you want some more advice, Beth?”

She blinked. “If you’re dishing it out.”

“Find another case for your show. Get off this Timberline Trio gig. Since I’m in the Siberia of cold-case hell anyway, I can even toss a couple of good ones your way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that? You must really want me off this case.”

“It’s not me.” Raking a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath. “Someone else wants you off this case.”

“What? Who? Bill?”

“We got an anonymous email and I don’t think it was from Bill Raney.”

“That’s crazy. The FBI got an email about little, old me? How did anyone even know I was doing a show on the Timberline Trio?”

“How long have you been in Timberline?”

“Two days.”

“We got the email two days ago.”

She sucked in her bottom lip. “You think it’s someone here?”

“It has to be, unless the station has been doing promo for it.”

“Not yet. We wouldn’t release anything about a story we haven’t even done yet. It might never come off.”

“Then it has to be someone here in Timberline or someone related to someone in Timberline. You haven’t exactly been shy about your purpose here.”

“No point in that. But why contact the FBI?” She snapped her fingers. “It must be someone who knows the FBI is looking into the case, too. Maybe this anonymous emailer figures the FBI will have some pull with me.”

Duke snorted. “Mr. Anonymous obviously doesn’t know you.”

“You know what’s strange?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t this person warn off the FBI? If it’s someone who doesn’t want me looking into the Timberline Trio, why would this same person be okay with the FBI dredging up the case?”

“I have no idea. Maybe he thinks
Cold Case Chronicles
has a better shot at solving the case than the FBI.” He scanned her thoughtful face. “That was a joke.”

“It’s strange, Duke. I suppose you tried to trace the email.”

“With no luck.”

“Must be someone who’s computer savvy, which isn’t hard to find in this town with Evergreen Software in the picture.”

He captured a lock of her silky hair and twisted it around his finger. “How about it, Beth? Why don’t you back off? I’ll find you another case, a better case for your show.”

“You don’t really think I’m in danger from an anonymous email, do you? I get a lot of anonymous emails, Duke. Some are unrepeatable.”

“What about this?” He smacked his palm on the roof of the car. “Someone sends a threat and then someone breaks into your car. Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

“Could just be a tweaker like Unger said. Besides, this could be good for you.”

“How so?”

“If someone who was involved in the disappearance of the Timberline Trio twenty-five years ago wants me off the case and is willing to harass me about it, you might be able to pick him up and actually solve the case.”

“You think I’d use you, put you at risk to solve a twenty-five-year-old case?” He clenched his jaw.

She swallowed, her Adam’s apple bobbing in her slender throat. “I...”

“Just because you did it, don’t expect the same treatment from me.” He backed away from her car. “Drive carefully.”

* * *

W
ITH
TEARS
FLOODING
her eyes, which had nothing to do with the cold air coming through the broken window, Beth glanced at Duke’s blurry headlights in her rearview mirror.

He hadn’t forgiven her, despite his concern for her safety tonight.

Maybe that concern was all a big act. Maybe the anonymous email was a lie. Why would someone want to warn her away from the case but not warn the FBI?

Unless this someone knew her true identity. Did someone suspect her real purpose for highlighting the Timberline case?

She pulled into the parking lot of the Timberline Hotel with Duke right behind her. They even got out of their cars at the same time. He followed her inside, but made no attempt to talk to her.

She dreaded the awkward elevator ride, but he peeled off and headed for the stairwell. Once she stepped into the elevator, she sagged against the wall.

Was the warning to the FBI connected to the break-in? Had the thief grabbed the bag because she’d left it out, or had he wanted to send a message by taking the Libby Love frog? And what was that message?

She slid her card key in the door and leaned into it to shove it open.

She dropped her purse on the single chair in the room and sauntered to the window, arms crossed. Resting her head against the cool glass, she took in the parking lot beneath her.

Did Duke have a better view? If he’d taken the stairs, his room was probably located on the lower floors. The hotel had just five. Who was she kidding? Duke could run up five flights of stairs without breaking a sweat or gasping for breath. The man was a stud, but not the overly muscled kind. He had the long, lean body of a runner.

She banged her head against the window. No point in letting her thoughts stray in that direction. He’d been concerned about her tonight, but that could just be because he wanted her out of the picture.

Little did he know, she had more at stake here than good ratings.

She could tell him, confess everything...well, almost everything. He already knew that she’d been adopted and hadn’t been able to locate her birth parents. If she explained to him her suspicions about being Heather Brice, maybe he could help her. Maybe he’d share the case files with her.

She pivoted away from the window. If she told him that now, he’d suspect her of spinning a tale to get her hands on the information he had. She wouldn’t go down that road with him again.

Sighing, she swept the remote control from the credenza and aimed it at the TV, turning it on.

With the local TV news blaring in the background, she got ready for bed. Snug in a new pair of flannel pajamas she’d bought for the trip, she perched on the edge of the bed to watch the news. She hadn’t made the local news—not yet.

She switched the channel to a sitcom rerun and flipped back the covers on her bed. Her heart slammed against her chest and she jerked back as she stared at the head of the Libby Love frog positioned on the white sheet, his miner’s hat at a jaunty angle.

Chapter Five

Beth slammed the frog head on the reception counter, squishing the hat. “Where did it come from?”

The hotel clerk’s eyes popped from their sockets. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I have no idea how it got in your bed. Perhaps it had been washed with the sheets and the maid thought it belonged to you.”

“This—” she shook the head at him until some white stuffing fell onto the countertop “—does not look like it’s been through an industrial washing machine. It looks brand-new, except for the fact that it’s been ripped from its body.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know. I can talk to the maids in the morning.”

“What’s going on?”

Beth gulped and swiveled her head to the side. What was Duke doing down here? Might as well get it over with.

“I found this—” she thrust the frog head toward him “—in my bed when I got back to my room.”

He held out his hand and she dropped the head into his palm.

“What the hell? Is this the frog you bought earlier that was stolen from your car?”

“Stolen?” The clerk turned another shade of red. “I can assure you, we don’t know anything about any theft.”

Beth released a long breath. “I don’t know if it’s the exact same toy I bought, but it’s the same kind. So if the thief who broke into my car didn’t put it in my room, it’s a helluva coincidence that someone else did.”

The hotel clerk reached for the phone. “Should we call the sheriff’s department?”

Duke tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling of the lobby. “Do you have security cameras?”

“Just in the parking lot, sir. We can check that footage to see if anyone drove into the lot without coming through the lobby.”

“That’s a good idea. It would’ve been within the past ninety minutes. Do you have a security guard on duty...” He glanced at the man’s name tag. “...Gregory?”

“This is Timberline. No security guard.” Gregory lifted his hands. “Sheriff’s department?”

“Will they come out for a stuffed frog head?” Beth crossed her arms over her flannel pj’s, recognizing the ridiculousness of that statement. At least she didn’t feel as if she were choking as she had from the moment she’d seen that frog in her bed. Duke had that effect on her—a calming, steadying presence.

Too bad she had the opposite effect on him.

He gave her a crooked smile. “You heard Gregory. This is Timberline. They’ll come out for a stuffed frog. It’s not just the head. It’s the fact that someone broke into your room and put it in your bed...and the smashed car window before that. You want to report and document all this.”

Gregory picked up the phone. “I’ll call it in. We may learn more tomorrow when the housekeeping staff comes in. I’ll make sure we question all of them thoroughly. The night crew was here until about an hour ago, so they could’ve been here when the, uh, frog was put in your room.”

“Thanks, Gregory.” Beth tucked her messy hair behind her ears and flashed him one of her TV smiles. “I’m sorry I got in your face earlier. That frog rattled me.”

“I understand, ma’am. If you and the...gentleman—” he nodded toward Duke “—want to help yourselves to something from the self-serve concession while you wait for the sheriffs, it’s on the house.”

“Don’t mind if we do. Thanks, Gregory.” She crooked her finger at Duke and then charged across the lobby to the small lit fridge and rows of snacks, her rubber flip-flops smacking the tile floor.

She yanked open the fridge door with Duke hovering over her shoulder. “You’re still in your pajamas.”

Leaning forward, she studied the labels on the little bottles of wine with the screw tops. “Excuse me. I didn’t have time for full hair, makeup and wardrobe once I realized someone had been sneaking around my hotel room beheading frogs.”

She wrapped her fingers around a chilled bottle of chardonnay and turned on him, almost landing in his arms. She thrust the bottle between them. “What were you doing wandering around the hotel?”

His dark eyes widened. “Are you accusing me of planting the frog? I was with you, remember?”

“Now who’s being sensitive? The thought never crossed my mind, but you were headed toward the stairwell the last time I saw you.”

“I stepped outside for some air. My room was stuffy and I couldn’t sleep.” He held up the frog head. “It’s a good thing I did. You looked ready to gouge out poor Gregory’s eyes.”

“I was spooked.” She ducked back into the fridge. “Do you want a beer or one of these fine wines?”

“I’ll take a beer.” He ran his hand down the length of her arm. “Must’ve freaked you out seeing that frog in your bed.”

She handed him a cold beer. “It did. The fact that it was just his head made it worse. Was that some kind of warning?”

“Is this story worth it?” He took the mini wine bottle from her and twisted off the lid. “For whatever reason, someone doesn’t want you digging into this case, and this person is willing to put you through hell to get that point across.”

“Would you quit if someone started warning you?”

He twisted off his own cap and took a swallow of beer. “It’s different. If someone started warning the FBI off a cold case, it would give us reason to believe we were on the right track.”

“Maybe I’m on the right track.”

“You just got here. It seems to me that some person or persons don’t want a story on Timberline. Having the FBI investigate is a different ball game. Maybe these warnings to you are designed to stop you from dragging the town of Timberline through the mud again. You know, reducing the real-estate prices, like Bill said.”

She took a sip of wine. “You saw the people at the restaurant. Most were eager to help.”

“There could be two factions in town—one group wants the attention and the other doesn’t. The ones that don’t want the limelight have started a campaign against you—a personal one.” He clinked his bottle with hers. “Give it up, Beth. Move on to something else. I told you. I have the cold-case world at my fingertips now and can turn you on to a new, sexy case.”

She took another pull straight from her wine bottle and gritted her teeth as she swallowed. “I’m not going to quit, Duke. I want to investigate this case.”

“Evening, Ms. St. Regis.” Deputy Unger swept his hat from his head. “Gregory told us you had some more trouble tonight.”

“It’s the stuffed frog stolen from her car.” Duke held out the frog head. “Someone planted it in her hotel room.”

Unger whistled. “Someone really wants you gone—I mean off this story.”

“Can you check the tape from the security camera in the parking lot?” Beth put her wine bottle behind her back just in case Unger thought she was a hysterical drunk. “Gregory said the hotel had cameras out there. Maybe someone will appear on tape who’s out of place.”

“I spoke to him on the way in. Gregory’s getting that ready for us right now. Let’s go up to your room and check it out. See if there are any signs of a break-in.”

Duke proffered the frog head on the palm of his hand. “The frog’s been manhandled by a bunch of people, but maybe you can get some prints from it.”

Unger pulled a plastic bag from the duffel over his shoulder and shook it out. “Drop it in. We’ll have a look.”

They all trooped up to her hotel room and Beth inserted the card with shaky fingers. She didn’t know what to expect on the other side of the door.

Nothing.

Everything was the way she’d left it, covers pulled back on the bed and the TV blasting. She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. “It was there, on the middle of the bed, beneath the covers.”

Unger looked up from studying the door. “No signs of forced entry. You’re on the fourth floor. Does the window open?”

“No.”

He had a fingerprinting kit with him and dusted the door handle and the doorjamb. Once he finished asking a few more questions, he packed up his stuff. “I’ll have a look at the footage now. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

Duke stopped him. “One more thing, Deputy Unger. A Realtor by the name of Bill Raney was making some threats against Beth in Sutter’s tonight.”

“We’ll talk to him. That man’s been on a downward slide lately. I can’t imagine him out breaking car windows and sneaking into hotel rooms, but you never know what people will do when their backs are against the wall.”

Beth sighed. Why did this have to be happening on the most important case of her life? Maybe if she just explained herself publicly. She honestly didn’t care who had kidnapped her twenty-five years ago and she wasn’t interested in putting Timberline in the spotlight again. She just wanted to confirm her identity. She wanted to go to the Brices with proof. She wanted to go back to a loving home.

She’d already made a mistake. She should’ve done her sleuthing on the sly. She should’ve come to Timberline as a tourist, taken up fishing or hiking or boating. She’d just figured she had the best cover. Nobody would have to know her ulterior motive. Nothing would have to get back to the Brices until she was sure.

“Ms. St. Regis?”

She looked up into Deputy Unger’s face, creased with concern. “Are you okay? Gregory offered to move you to another room.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Duke tossed her suitcase onto the bed. “In fact, the room next to mine on the second floor is empty.”

Beth’s mouth gaped open. Duke must really be worried if he wanted her rooming right next to him. Today in the forest he’d acted like he’d wanted to strangle her.

“That might not be a bad idea—if you’re insisting on continuing with this story.” Unger slung his bag over his shoulder and walked to the door.

“Deputy Unger, who exactly doesn’t want the old case dredged up from the cold-case files?” Holding her breath, she watched his face.
He
didn’t. He’d made that clear before.

He shrugged. “People like Bill. People with a lot to lose—think property values, reputations, businesses—those are the people who want to put this all behind us. The executives at Evergreen about had a fit when Wyatt Carson kidnapped those kids and struck fear into the hearts of their employees—the people they’d lured here with a promise of safety and clean living.”

“I don’t see how a crime that occurred twenty-five years ago can still tarnish the luster of a city.” She grabbed her vest from the back of the chair and dropped it next to her bag on the bed.

“C’mon, Beth.” Duke scratched his stubble. “You’ve been doing the show long enough to realize what can happen to a town when all the dirty laundry is hung out for everyone to see.”

“Maybe I won’t end up doing the story. Maybe I won’t even call my crew out here—but it won’t be because someone wants to scare me off. It’ll be because I decide to call it quits.”

“Whatever you say, Ms. St. Regis.” Unger pulled open the door. “Just keep calling us, especially if these pranks start to escalate.”

“Escalate?” Beth licked her lips. “It’s just a story, just a town’s rep.”

“You’d be surprised how far people will go to protect what’s theirs.”

She and Duke ended up following Unger back to the reception desk to switch her room to the second floor—next to Duke’s.

Unger scanned the footage while they waited and shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone coming in or out of that parking lot is accounted for as a guest of the hotel.”

Gregory slipped her the new card key. “As I said, Ms. St. Regis, I’ll question housekeeping tomorrow morning and we’ll try to get to the bottom of how someone got into your room. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.”

Duke got that fierce look he must’ve learned on the mean streets of Philly and Beth shivered. It meant a lot to have a man like Duke on your side—if you weren’t stupid enough to throw it all away.

Gregory even looked a little worried. “I’ll keep you posted, Ms. St. Regis.”

Duke took the suitcase handle from her and dragged her bag toward the elevator.

She shuffled after him, yawning. “I am so ready to call it a night.”

Duke gave her a sideways glance and stabbed the button for the second floor. The elevator rumbled into action and Beth closed her eyes. The wine had made her sleepy, and she felt the lure of a comfy bed with no surprises in it, although she wouldn’t mind one surprise—a prince instead of a frog.

The elevator lurched to a sharp halt and Beth’s eyes flew open. “Whoa. This thing needs service.”

The elevator had stopped moving but the doors remained shut.

“Oh, God, not another prank—as Unger called it.” Her gaze darted to Duke’s face, still fierce but set, his jaw hard.

“I’m the one who stopped the elevator.”

“What?” She braced her hand against the wall of the car. “Are you crazy? What did you do that for?”

Duke crossed his arms and widened his stance as if she could pull off an escape from the car.

“You’re going to tell me what you’re really doing in Timberline, and you’re going to tell me now or this elevator isn’t going anywhere.”

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