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Authors: Maggie Shayne

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BOOK: Colder Than Ice
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But that couldn't be right, either. This man might lie to her, but not Maude. Maude wouldn't have deceived her.

Josh's hand on her arm startled her out of her thoughts. And she was angry with her body for feeling a trail of heat in the wake of his fingers.

“Come on, let's get this over with, hmm?”

“All right.”

 

He had to work harder, he thought, because Beth was just too damn smart for him. She was seeing holes in his story, watching Bryan's reactions to every word and doubting the sincerity of his doting suitor routine. Not only that, he was pretty sure she'd been snooping in his bedroom this morning, and if she had been, he had a feeling she'd found his 9 mm. It had been hanging in the closet, with a suit jacket buttoned over it to prevent it accidentally being seen, while ensuring it was within quick and easy reach.

Since Maude's death, he'd been carrying his other weapon on him at all times, but the little snub-nosed .38 only fired six rounds. The 9 mm Ruger was his weapon of choice. Semiautomatic, multiround clip, with a glow-in-the-dark sight. Normally he would have carried it and left the .38 at home with the trigger lock on it, but the Ruger was considerably tougher to carry around without it being seen.

This morning, after Beth had gone up to shower, he'd gone to his room and seen that the closet door wasn't closed as
tightly as it had been and the suit jacket was unbuttoned. He had no doubt he had left it buttoned.

So Beth probably knew about the gun, and that was probably feeding her suspicions about him and his reasons for being here. The only way to alleviate them was with a grand show of honesty—if he hadn't learned another thing about her in the past few days, he'd learned that she valued honesty above all things.

Besides, he reminded himself for the second time since he'd known her, the best defense was a good offense. Hell, when had he ever needed such a strong defense?

He took her to the funeral home. Beth added her own touches to Maude's preplanned event—which would be held this very evening. Despite all her planning, Maude had left a few things undone, making it painfully clear she had imagined she would have a lot more time. She hadn't yet chosen the music to be played. Beth did that, choosing the hymns she knew to be Maude's favorites, “In the Garden,” and “Amazing Grace.” She promised to go through Maude's photo albums for some pictures of her that could be displayed, and picked out the memorial cards to be rush printed that afternoon.

It wasn't easy on her. Josh could see that. And he couldn't be sure if his presence was making things easier or all the harder.

They were leaving the florist's, where they had ordered piles of Shasta daisies, when a hardy-looking man in overalls approached them on the sidewalk. “Beth Slocum?”

She went stiff instantly. “Yes?”

The man extended a hand. “Will Ahearn,” he said. “Ahearn's Contracting?”

She relaxed a little—obviously the name was familiar to her—and took the man's hand.

“I'm so sorry about Maude,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

“It's not easy. I miss her so much.”

“The whole town does,” he said.

She nodded, glancing at Josh. “Forgive me. Will, this is Joshua Kendall.”

“Ahh, the long-lost relative. Good to meet you,” Will said, shaking Josh's hand. Then he returned his attention to Beth. “Word around town is that Maude's house belongs to you now. I sure hope you don't mind my bringing up business at a time like this, but Maude had hired my crew to repaint the old place. I'm wondering what you want to do about that now.”

Beth blinked, clearly surprised. “She didn't tell me.”

“Well, we hadn't gotten very far. She was supposed to sign the contract and give me the down payment this week.” He nodded toward the diner across the street. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee? I can tell you where we left things.”

She looked at Josh. “Fine with me, if you're up to it,” he said.

She looked at the town around her, then back at him. She drew a breath, then nodded. “I'll meet you over there in just a minute, Will. All right?”

“Sure. I'll go grab a table.”

Will nodded goodbye and crossed the street. Beth turned to Josh, her eyes big and slightly damp. “Looks like it's decision time.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to decide now. You've got time, Beth.”

She sighed. “I've had a lot of trouble admitting it, but I think I love this town.”

He smiled a little, looking around. “What's not to love?
Fresh air. Fall foliage.” He searched her face then. “You've already made up your mind, haven't you?”

“No, not by a long shot. I think I'd like to stay, but I don't know if I can.”

“You can do whatever you want to do, Beth.”

She shook her head slowly. “I'm going to honor Maude's agreement with Will. God knows Maude would have done all the research in advance. If she trusts him, he must be on the level.”

“Wish the same applied to me.”

She ignored that remark. “I'll pay him from my savings. I can live on my tutoring income. I'll sign that contract and get the house painted, the repairs made. If I end up having to leave, it will only mean the house will bring that much more on the market.”

“What about reopening the Blackberry Inn?”

She looked up at him, and for just a moment he saw in her eyes, shining from their depths, the excitement and joy that idea brought her. But she tamped it down, covered it up with bleak realism. “We'll see.”

Chapter Twelve

J
osh, Beth and Bryan sat in the front as what looked like every resident of Blackberry and the surrounding communities filed through to pay their respects to Maude Bickham. Frankie said even some of the tourists, the regulars who had returned year after year and had gotten to know Maude over time, had shown up to say goodbye. The casket was closed, at Maude's request, and there were so many flowers in the room that Josh couldn't inhale without filling his lungs with their scent.

“How are you holding up?” he asked Beth when there was a brief lull in the procession.

She glanced his way, gave him a wet, shaky smile. She looked exhausted, pale and unsteady. “I'm okay. It's great that so many people turned out for Maude, isn't it? And on such short notice.”

“She deserved it.”

Beth nodded. “In case I didn't say so, Josh, thank you for today.”

He started to shake his head, but she went on. “After this morning, the last thing I felt like doing was shopping for clothes, but I'm glad you convinced me. I would have ended up panicking at the last minute with nothing to wear tonight.”

He nodded. The things salvaged from the wreckage of her house hadn't included anything suitable for saying goodbye to Maude.

“I hated to push you. You would have been better off if you could have spent the afternoon relaxing at home. I just thought—”

“No, you were right. I needed clothes. It was nice of you to come with me. It couldn't have been much fun for you. And poor Bryan, spending the entire day home alone.” She turned to Bryan. “I hope you weren't too bored.”

“I was fine.” He glanced past her, catching his father's eye.

He'd done that three times since they'd arrived tonight, Josh thought, and he knew his son wanted to talk to him alone, but for the life of him, he couldn't leave Beth by herself right now. Sitting beside the casket of her only friend, receiving the condolences of the locals. It was odd, the way people were behaving toward her. While it was clear Maude was a beloved member of the community, it wasn't so obvious how they felt about Beth. Their condolences ranged from flat to downright chilly. The looks being sent her way were wary, even suspicious, and more than once Josh had noticed small groups speaking in low voices while looking in Beth's direction.

Something was definitely off about the town's attitude toward Beth. And it wasn't going unnoticed by her. This morn
ing he'd been touched by Blackberry's kindness to her, the way the police department had gathered her belongings, one of the wives cleaning them. The way they'd brought her car to her. But maybe that didn't extend farther than the police department—Frankie Parker being Maude's best friend might be more responsible for that than he had guessed. Oh, Will Ahearn had been kind to her, as had Stu Miller, the funeral director, and the woman at the flower shop. But to them, she was a customer, a paying customer.

The others in the town seemed chilly toward her tonight. Sympathetic, but wary. He'd seen her noticing and pretending not to.

“Could I have your attention?” Reverend Baker said in a voice that carried over the hushed discussions of the mourners, “We'll begin the service in five minutes, so you all might want to wrap up your discussions and find your seats.”

He stepped away from the podium, rejoining the funeral director, who stood near the door, greeting people as they arrived.

Beth drew a breath. “I'm going to freshen up before things get underway. Be right back.”

Josh got up when she did and watched her go.

“Thank God,” Bryan said when she was out of earshot. “Dad, I've got to talk to you. Something's going on.”

“I picked up on that. Look, I screwed up our cover. Maude assured me that there were very few people who knew her well enough to have known she never had kids. I didn't realize one of them would be the police chief. But it's okay. I gave Frankie a little of the truth and Art's number to verify it, and I convinced her to keep quiet. I think I covered it with Beth,
too—told her Maude was more like an honorary grandmother, and we—”

“It's not about that. It's about Beth.”

Josh stopped speaking, frowning down at his son. “What about her?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“There are some nasty rumors going around about her. They're saying she was busted for dealing drugs to students in her old school district. Some of the bigger imaginations in town even think her house blowing up was part of some kind of organized crime retaliation thing.”

Josh felt his jaw go slack. “That's…you're kidding me. God, where the hell did you hear this garbage?”

“The kids in the park today. They were just repeating what they'd heard their parents saying. One kid even mentioned that maybe Maude found out and Beth or one of her criminal cohorts had her murdered.”

“Jesus.”

“One of the girls there, Shelly, is one of the kids Beth tutors. But she says her mother is going to make her stop going, and that she'll be surprised if Beth has any students left by the end of the week.”

“Hell. That's all she needs.”

“I just don't get it. It's got to be that cult leader, who's been after her all this time, doing this, right?”

“I can only assume,” Josh said. “I can't imagine anyone else wanting to ruin Beth's reputation.”

“But why would he? Why would Mordecai Young want to start stories like that about Beth? What could he gain from it?”

“I don't know.” Josh lowered his head, then raised it again. “I'll tell you one thing, son, you're damn good at this game.”

Bryan looked away.

“I'm serious. You're doing better than I am. She's getting more suspicious of me by the day.”

“Maybe that's because all you do is lie to her.”

Josh felt his jaw firm. “It's my
job
to lie to her.”

“That doesn't make it the right thing to do, Dad.”

Josh looked up, saw Beth coming back across the crowded room. “Here she comes. Good work, Bry. Keep it up.”

Bryan sighed, but he didn't touch on the subject again. The minister returned to the podium, then spoke long and eloquently about Maude, all her contributions to the community, how loved and respected she was. Then he made room for the locals to come up and talk about her themselves. Many did. Beth declined, and it was understandable. The words of the others had reduced her to tears, and speaking was probably beyond her by then. Josh felt too phony to get up there and wax on about a woman he had barely known, so he shook his head when the minister looked his way, and the man nodded as if he understood perfectly, then returned his attention to the crowd.

“There will be a graveside service tomorrow at two at Brookside Cemetery. And next Sunday at 8:00 p.m., as per Maude's wishes, there will be a gathering at her home, to which all are invited. In the old days, Maudie told me, when Sam was alive, they always threw the place open at holiday time. Most of the town would gather, and there would be food, music, laughter. She wanted that one last time. For the town, she said, and for the house.” He smiled, shook his head. “She wants it to be a celebration and a send-off, not a time of mourning. And I hope to see you all there.”

Things wrapped up and people filed out. When the last of
them had left, Josh got up, but Beth remained seated, staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts. He touched her arm. “Time to go, hon.” The endearment slid out before he could stop it, drawing a look from Bryan that conveyed something between surprise and disapproval.

But by then Beth was gripping Josh's forearm, letting him help her to her feet. He put an arm around her, resting his hand at her waist as he led her to the exit, pausing only long enough to thank the minister and funeral director on the way out.

 

Dawn was at the house alone, and she didn't much like it. At first it had been nice, not having to hide, being free to get snacks, watch TV, wander around the place. But once darkness fell, it became creepy. She had to keep all the lights turned off, because Beth and Joshua would be back soon, and if they saw a light on they would know someone was there.

So she left them off. And she sat in the living room, because it seemed less scary than being upstairs alone. She would hear them pull in. There would be time to slip up the stairs and into Bryan's bedroom.

She sighed, flipping channels on the TV and hoping the light from the screen wasn't visible from outside. Every nerve in her body was prickling and jumping. She got to thinking maybe it wasn't entirely because she was sitting alone in the dark, or because she was in the house of a dead woman, or because she knew her lunatic father was probably in this same town or on his way there.

It was something more.

Dawn got feelings sometimes. Hints of things that were going to happen just before they did. And she hated it. It ter
rified her. She didn't want to be like her birth father. She didn't want any part of him inside her, and she secretly hoped it would just go away.

But right now, it—whatever
it
was—was quivering, and she knew that he was close.

She closed her eyes, tried to calm her fears, told herself it was her imagination—just before she heard the soft footsteps crossing the front porch. Reflexively, she snatched the remote and hit the power button, shutting the TV off and plunging the room into blackness. She swallowed hard, rose slowly to her feet, her eyes glued to the front door. The knob wiggled, twisted.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She fought the instinct to run and instead squinted through the darkness at the lock, managing to verify that it was engaged. Then she backed slowly toward the kitchen, her throat bone dry, determined to make double sure that door was locked, as well. She moved silently, unable to see, chills racing up her spine as the fine hairs on her nape stood erect. Feeling her way, scuffing her feet, terrified she would make some noise and give herself away, she managed to get through the pitch-black dining room and, finally, into the kitchen.

Trembling, she scuffed across the linoleum floor, her heart pounding faster and harder with every step. She reached out both hands, feeling for the knob, searching for the lock, eyes staring so hard at the curtained glass window in the top half of the door that they watered. She felt the lock. It was engaged.

Her pent-up breath escaped in a sigh—just as a silhouette, a head and shoulders, appeared beyond the curtain.

The sigh became a scream. Dawn clapped a hand over her
mouth, then turned and raced through the house, banging into things, tripping, careening. She found the stairway and rushed up it, then dived into Bryan's bedroom, closed and locked the door, and crouched in a corner, trembling….

And waiting.

 

Joshua drove the three of them back to the old Bickham place. It looked like a typical haunted house tonight, its paint dull and peeling, the porch slightly sagging in the middle, the lawn unkept. The only hint of color came from the vivid foliage of the trees beyond the back lawn, and already those leaves were starting to fall. Patches of brown were tiny scars on a rapidly fading masterpiece.

The porch light was on. The rest of the house was dark.

Beth sighed. “It's good to be home.” Then she shook her head slowly from side to side. “Hell, I lived in the cottage for a year and never thought of it as home. That's odd, isn't it?”

Josh nodded. “Maude's house is like that.”

“Yeah. She said it had a soul.”

He nodded, and she opened her door to get out of the car. He got out, as well, and the three of them walked to the porch, up the steps to the door.

“I'm going straight to bed,” Beth told him as he unlocked the place, and turned on the lights.

Josh said, “I know you've been through hell today, Beth, but I need to talk to you about something. Can you stay awake a few more minutes?”

“Sure.”

“I'm heading up to my room,” Bryan said. “Good night.”

“Night, Bry. Call if you need us,” Beth told him.

He nodded at her and hurried up the stairs.

 

As soon as Bryan opened his bedroom door and flipped on the light, Dawn lunged at him, snapped her arms around his neck and hugged him so hard he almost fell back out into the hallway again. “Thank God you're back!”

“Whoa, hey, what's this about?” He hugged her in return. Hell, this was like the opening scene from the fantasy he'd been having about her all afternoon. Of course he hugged her.

She stepped back a little, staring up at him. “While you were gone, someone tried to get into the house.”

“What?” He took his arms from around her waist and crossed the room to the window, tugged the curtain open and looked out onto the back lawn. There was nothing there. “Who? When?”

“It—it was too dark to see his face.” She moved behind him to peer over his shoulder out the window. “I got bored, went downstairs to watch some TV. I heard someone at the front door, not knocking, just rattling the knob, you know? I shut off the TV and felt my way to the kitchen to be sure that door was locked, and then there was this dark shape right on the other side of the window.” She pressed her hands to her chest. “God, I almost died. I didn't mean to scream, it just sort of jumped out of me.”

BOOK: Colder Than Ice
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