Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set Page 11
“Don’t be silly. The truth is I’m going to enjoy having you two here. This house gets pretty lonesome with me being here all by myself. Nicolette and her son, Sammy, came here with me from New York City. Since they moved out, I’ve missed having a young one around. We’re all going to get along wonderfully, Trisha.”
Her words, along with the warmth of her smile, assured Trisha of their genuine welcome. They had just cleaned up the dishes when Dusty appeared at the back door.
“Good morning,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen. As always he looked hot in his faded jeans and a navy blue T-shirt.
“Dusty!” Cooper came running back into the room. He launched himself into Dusty’s arms. “You got me puzzles and it isn’t even my birthday!”
Dusty laughed and set Cooper back down on the floor. “Those are for you and your mother to put together.”
“What do you say to Dusty, Cooper?” Trisha asked.
“Thank you, thank you and thank you! Now I gotta go, the bad cowboys are tearing up the town.” They all laughed as he disappeared back into the great room.
The laughter in Dusty’s eyes faded as he gazed at Trisha. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve already spoken to Dillon this morning. He’s going to meet you here around eleven to discuss your...uh, issue. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be here with you when he arrives.”
“I’d like that,” she replied.
“And I’ll be glad to occupy Cooper while you talk to Dillon,” Cassie said.
Trisha looked at her gratefully. “Thanks. This isn’t something I want to discuss in front of him. He’s too young for these kinds of adult things.”
“Then I’ll just get out of here and I’ll be back around eleven,” Dusty said.
“He’s a good man,” Cassie said when he was gone.
“I’m finding that out with every minute I spend with him,” Trisha replied. “I just hate that he’s been pulled into my drama.”
Cassie smiled. “Trisha, if he didn’t want to be in your drama, then he wouldn’t be. One thing I’ve learned in the relatively short time I’ve been here on the ranch is that the men who work here are not only great workers, but they’re also headstrong and know what they want when they want it. You could definitely do a lot worse than Dusty.”
“I already have,” Trisha replied darkly, a sliver of fear edging through her as she thought about what Dillon might find out about Frank’s whereabouts.
“I think there’s a child gate in one of the storage buildings,” Cassie said as they cleaned up the dishes. “I seem to remember seeing one, although I have no idea why Aunt Cass would have had it. I’ll have Adam see if he can locate it and bring it inside. I’d feel better if we put it up at the top of the stairs.”
A new wave of gratitude swept through Trisha. She’d already worried a bit about the stairs and Cooper getting disoriented in the middle of the night or in the morning and leaving the room without awakening her. “That would definitely put my mind at ease. If he can’t find it, then I’ll pick one up in town. Speaking of town, I need to call Daisy and let her know I won’t be coming in to work for at least a couple of days.”
“Go make your call, I’ll finish up in here,” Cassie replied.
At least Daisy didn’t ask questions. She simply told Trisha to take as much time off as she needed and to let her know when she was ready to return to work.
Trisha didn’t know when or even if she would be ready to return to work. Her future was on hold here in Bitterroot. No matter how much she had grown to care about Dusty, her fear of Frank was much bigger.
He was the monster in the closet and the boogeyman under the bed. She knew what he was capable of, and the last thing she wanted was for Cooper or Dusty to come to any harm just because they were important in her life. She’d run long before she’d ever let that happen.
The morning crept by as she anticipated meeting with the chief of police. She didn’t know Dillon Bowie well, but he’d always been kind to her when he’d eaten at the café.
Adam arrived with the child gate at ten thirty and installed it at the top of the stairs and then left to head back outside.
“Hey, Cooper, how would you like to learn how to paint a picture?” Cassie asked when Adam was gone and it was almost time for Dillon to arrive.
“Can I paint a cowboy?” he asked.
“You can paint whatever you want,” she replied with a quick glance at Trisha. “I’ve got all my paints and canvases up in my bedroom. We’ll go up there to paint some pictures.”
Cooper looked at Trisha for permission. “Go have fun with Cassie,” she said and then gave the woman a grateful look. “When you’re finished, we’ll frame it and hang it in our new home.”
“Cool,” Cooper exclaimed.
Cassie took him by the hand and led him up the stairs at the same time that Dusty came in through the back door. “How are you doing? Are you ready for this?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.
“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She motioned him to a chair at the table and sank down across from him. “I can’t believe how nice Cassie is being to us.”
“There are lots of good people in Bitterroot and she just happens to be one of them,” he replied.
“That’s what I’ve loved about living here—there are so many wonderful people. I was hoping to make this a home for us forever.” Would that ever happen now or would she have to pick up and start all over again? How many times in their lives would they have to move to keep escaping Frank? The thought was definitely depressing.
“That can still happen, Trisha. Even if it is Frank, maybe it’s time you stop and take a stand against him. Maybe it’s time you fight for what you really want.”
The very idea shot a burst of Arctic wind through her. “How do you make a stand against a monster?” She shook her head and leaned back in the chair.
“You stand side by side with the people who care about you,” Dusty replied. “You aren’t alone this time, Trisha. You have people to stand with you...you have me.”
Anything else he might have said was halted by a knock on the back door. Dusty got up to answer and returned with Chief of Police Dillon Bowie.
Dillon’s handsome features were pulled taut and tension radiated out from his gray eyes. “Trisha,” he greeted her as he sat in the chair opposite her at the table and Dusty moved to sit next to her.
“Good morning, Dillon. I’m sorry to have to add to your troubles by calling you out here,” she replied.
“I’ve already had a morning of trouble, and I would have had come to talk to you in any case,” he replied.
“Why? What happened this morning?” Dusty asked with slightly narrowed eyes.
“I got a call from Fred Ferguson this morning asking me to come out to the motel. He said some vandalism occurred overnight,” Dillon explained.
A new case of nerves began to jangle inside Trisha as she exchanged a quick glance with Dusty. “Vandalism?”
Dillon nodded and pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket. When he looked at Trisha again, his eyes held a wealth of speculation. “I’m assuming you and Dusty didn’t trash your room when you left the motel last night.”
“Of course not,” she replied, the nervous electricity in her veins sizzling even hotter.
“Somebody did,” Dillon said curtly. “The front window was broken out and the bed was slashed to ribbons. The microwave was smashed on the floor, along with everything else that wasn’t bolted down. A huge rage exploded in that room.”
Trisha stared at him in horror. Somebody had broken into the motel room? How soon after she and Dusty had left? If they had taken fifteen more minutes to finish up the packing, would they have been confronted by somebody who had a killing rage? And what if Dusty hadn’t arranged for her to leave? What i
f she’d been in that room alone with Cooper?
Had Frank decided to make a bold move? Had he believed that Trisha and Cooper were in the room? Or had it been somebody else...somebody she wouldn’t see coming because she didn’t know who he was?
* * *
Dusty listened intently as Trisha told Dillon what she’d shared with him the night before about the man who was Cooper’s father. Once again a simmering panic radiated from Trisha’s eyes, put there in part by the news about the motel room.
Had somebody watched them last night while they’d packed up her things and left? Or had that somebody come to the room to present himself to her and when he realized she was gone he went totally nuts?
No matter the scenario, Dusty didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. This was different than some innocent secret admirer.
“Did you tell the police of your suspicions concerning Frank at the time?” Dillon asked.
“I called the detective in charge of my mother’s murder case on my way out of Chicago. He told me they were investigating the crime, but I never heard anything else from him,” Trisha replied.
“And the detective’s name?”
She frowned. “Eric Kincaid.”
Dillon wrote down the name and then leaned back in his chair. “Now, Dusty mentioned that some things were left at your motel room on a couple of occasions. Tell me about it.”
She told him about the flowers, the candy and the two notes that had been left for her. Once again her voice trembled with barely suppressed fear.
“I’ve got the box of candy and the note that was left for her last night in my truck,” Dusty said when she’d finished.
“I’ll get them from you as I leave.” He turned his attention back to Trisha. “Do you have any idea who in town might have left those things for you?”
“I don’t have a clue,” she replied. She placed her hands on the tabletop and twisted her fingers together.
“A pretty woman like you surely gets a lot of male attention. Is there some man who has been especially friendly lately? Maybe somebody who asked you out and you rejected them?”
“There have been a few in the past,” she replied. “But nobody who really stands out in my mind. I mean, I have some regular customers who always sit in my section when I’m working and they’re all friendly to me.”
“Give me some names,” Dillon said.
Trisha frowned once again. “I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone who isn’t responsible for all of this.”
“Trisha.” Dusty reached over and covered her hands with one of his. “If we want to get to the bottom of this, then you need to tell Dillon what he needs to know to start an investigation.”
“Besides, I’m not going to run out of here and arrest everyone you tell me about,” Dillon said wryly. “In any case, it isn’t a crime to leave gifts anonymously. But what happened in that motel room last night is definitely a crime, and I want whoever is responsible for that.”
Trisha’s frown deepened. “Steve Kaufman is a regular of mine. He just sits and mostly reads, but I’ve sensed that he might be a little interested in me.”
Dusty pulled his hand back from hers and leaned back in his chair as she continued to name men. He was vaguely surprised by who all had asked her out in the past and more than a little bit curious if one of them was her secret admirer.
It was too bad that nobody at the motel had witnessed who had wreaked havoc in unit 4. Unfortunately, Dillon had told them, the units on either side of hers had been empty last night.
“You might want to check out Zeke Osmond,” Dusty said when she’d finished with her list of names. He told Dillon about his brief conversation with Zeke at the café the day after he and Trisha had gone to the Watering Hole.
Dillon sighed. “Why is it that whenever there’s trouble, Zeke’s name always manages to come up?” He shook his head and looked at Trisha once again. “Anyone else you can think of?”
“Several of the men from the Humes ranch usually sit in my section whenever I’m working, but Zeke is the only one who ever asked me for a date. None of the rest of them ever asked me out, although they are sometimes suggestive, bordering on lewd,” she replied.
“When did Zeke ask you out?” Dusty was surprised at this bit of news.
“Maybe six months ago.” She frowned. “It was just kind of off-the-cuff and I told him that I didn’t date.” She looked at Dillon once again. “How long will it take for you to let me know something about Frank?”
Dillon shrugged and stuck his pad and pen back into his shirt pocket. “I’ll make some phone calls when I get back to the station and see if I can hook up with Detective Kincaid. I’ll let you know as soon as I know something.” He stood and looked at Dusty. “If you walk out with me, I’ll take those items you have in your truck.”
“I’ll be right back,” Dusty said to Trisha as he and Dillon got up from the table.
The two men left by the back door and headed in the direction of the shed where Dusty’s truck was parked. “So, what do you think?” Dusty asked.
“To be honest, I don’t know what to think,” Dillon replied. “It’s obvious she believes that this Frank character is not only here in town but also presents a real threat to her and her son. If he’s really the monster she thinks he is, then it’s hard to believe a character like that would leave any gifts for her that would warn her of his presence here.”
“It’s equally hard to believe that somebody here in town would harbor the kind of rage that was apparent in that motel room,” Dusty said darkly.
They walked a few minutes in silence. “When is that coming down?” Dusty asked as they moved past the blue tent.
“I was going to have a couple of men come out later this afternoon and take it down. I’m sure Cassie will be glad to have it finally off the property.”
“We all will be glad,” Dusty replied. “Anything new on the case?”
“Nothing. I’m still waiting to hear from the lab about your fishing prize.”
“You know it’s going to be a match to the skeleton that was missing a skull.”
Dillon released a deep sigh. “Yeah, I know. In the meantime, I hope I can give Trisha some answers sooner rather than later. I’d like to get to the bottom of her issue so that I can get back to trying to figure out who is responsible for those skeletons.”
“Right now all I care about is Trisha and Cooper,” Dusty replied.
By that time they’d reached the shed. Dusty led Dillon to his truck and opened the passenger door. He stared at the seat where the box of candy and the note had been.
They were gone.
He turned to look at Dillon. “I had them right here last night.” He bent down to check the foot area. Nothing. “They’re gone. Somebody must have come in here and taken them.”
“Crap,” the lawman said eloquently.
Dusty mentally echoed the sentiment. Who had gotten into the shed? Was it possible that Trisha’s secret admirer was one of the men who worked on this ranch, somebody whom Dusty considered a brother?
Dusty didn’t tell Trisha about the missing items when he returned to the house. Cooper and Cassie had come back downstairs, and Cooper greeted him with excitement. “I painted a picture,” he declared proudly.
“You did? A picture of what?” Dusty asked.
“It’s you on a horse. Cassie helped.”
Never in his life would Dusty have imagined the warmth of pleasure that worked through him at the idea of a three-year-old painting a picture of him. “That’s terrific, Cooper. When can I see this work of art?”
“It’s drying right now,” Cassie said. “We thought we’d have a little art show after dinner tonight.”
“An art show and ice cream, right, Cassie?” Cooper said.
She smiled at
him with obvious affection. “That’s what I promised.” She looked at Dusty. “Maybe you can come back up here around seven?”
“Sure,” Dusty agreed. “And now I’d better get to work.” He looked at Trisha. “Walk me out?”
“Cooper, while your mom goes outside with Dusty for a minute, why don’t you and I figure out what we’re going to eat for lunch,” Cassie said.
As Dusty and Trisha stepped out the back door, Cassie and Cooper opened the refrigerator door and discussed the merits of grilled cheese.
The minute they were alone on the back stoop, Dusty fought the impulse to draw Trisha into his arms. Her face was pale and her eyes were dark from the toll of the conversation with Dillon.
“I know all of this has been very stressful for you,” he said instead.
“Stressful, but I also feel oddly relieved in telling Dillon everything. Frank has been a secret for too long and now he isn’t anymore.”
“Dillon is a good man, Trisha. He’s a smart man. Right now all we can do is trust that he’ll figure all this out.”
“It’s been a long time since I put my trust in anyone.”
“I hope you know that you can trust me,” he replied.
She gazed at him for a long moment, and some of the darkness in her eyes lightened. “I do trust you.”
He smiled at her with forced optimism. “We’re going to get through this, Trisha.”
“I desperately want to believe that. And now I’d better get back inside before Cooper convinces Cassie to have cake and cookies for lunch.” The tension that had tightened her features relaxed a little. “I guess I’ll see you this evening for ice cream and an art show.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
He waited until she’d disappeared into the house before turning to head back to the stables, where today he was in charge of cleaning and oiling tack.
As he walked, his thoughts returned to the missing candy box and note. Cooper’s suitcase of toys and the puzzles had been in the back of his pickup. When he’d grabbed them earlier that morning, he hadn’t thought about checking on the candy and the note in the passenger seat in the cab.