Ford didn’t break stride as he dove across the bed at Harris. He hit the doctor chest high, driving him into the wall. The pillow fell to the floor as Ford punched the doctor in the face with an uppercut that put the man’s lights out.

  As Dr. Harris slid down the wall to the floor, Ford swung around to check Liam, afraid he was too late.

  Liam’s eyes were open, unblinking.

  Ford swore and threw back his head, wanting to howl out his pain. He’d failed Rozalyn. Failed.

  At a sound behind him, he swung around expecting to find Rozalyn in the doorway. Nurse Kate Clark blinked in confusion, a box of donuts in her hands.

  “Call the sheriff, hurry,” Ford barked as he ripped off his belt and grabbed some tubing from the tray next to the bed and began to tie up the doctor.

  Kate dropped the donuts and picked up the phone in the room, fingers trembling as she beat out 9-1-1.

  Ford heard Jesse groan in the corner. Kate was on the phone with the dispatcher. The sheriff was on a call, Kate told Ford. The dispatcher would get word to him as soon as she could.

  Ford looked to the hospital room doorway. Still no Rozalyn. She must have seen Dr. Harris holding the pillow over her dad’s face, must have known they were too late and taken off in her grief.

  And yet, even as Ford thought it, a part of him knew she wouldn’t do that. He hurriedly finished tying up the doctor, anxious to find her and comfort her, upset with himself, afraid for her. Why the hell would Harris want Liam Sawyer dead? It didn’t make any sense. If he hadn’t seen the doctor holding the pillow over Liam’s face—

  And hadn’t been suspect of the doctor’s story that Liam had been dropped off at the hospital by some out-of-town Bigfoot hunters.

  “The doctor sent you to get donuts?” Ford asked the nurse as she hung up the phone and reached to take Liam’s pulse.

  She nodded distractedly. “He said he should have gotten something to eat when he brought the tray for Jesse, but that he craved jelly-filled donuts and could I—”

  “What the hell?” Jesse said as he looked over at the doctor on the floor, then tried to sit up and doubled over to be sick.

  “Kate, did you see Rozalyn when you came in?” Ford asked as he finished securing Dr. Harris. “Did you see which way she went?”

  Behind Ford, Jesse struggled to his feet and seemed to take in the situation quickly. “Son of a bitch. The bastard drugged me.”

  “Did you see Rozalyn, Kate?”

  The nurse shook her head. Her gaze transfixed on Liam.

  Ford reached across the bed to get her attention. Bony fingers closed over his wrist.

  “You look like John,” said a raspy voice from the bed.

  Ford blinked, then focused on Liam and the hand gripping his wrist.

  “Where is Roz?” Liam whispered.

  Ford shook his head in disbelief, then turned, hoping again to see her standing there. “Rozalyn!” No answer. “Rozalyn!”

  “I saw her on my way in,” Kate said.

  And Ford breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Find Roz. Not Emily,” Liam whispered and Kate gave him a little water, his lips dry and chapped. “Lynette.”

  Ford frowned down at the man. Who was Lynette? Liam wasn’t making any sense.

  The old man was frantic now, gripping Ford’s arm. “They’ll…kill her. The…bones.” He fell back, exhausted, his fingers falling away from Ford’s wrist.

  “I knew it!” cried a thin female voice from the doorway.

  Ford swung around to find an elderly woman in a bright-colored caftan, her red hair piled high on her head, turquoise eye shadow over shining blue eyes, standing in the doorway. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “Emily. You fool. She’s really Lynette Hargrove and she’s a killer!” the woman said rushing to Liam’s side.

  “Florie Jenkins,” Jesse said by way of introduction. “She’s harmless. Thinks she’s psychic.”

  “I’m clairvoyant,” Florie said, cradling Liam’s hand in both of her jeweled ones. “The woman was only after Liam’s money. Don’t just stand there,” she snapped at Ford. “Your destiny is with Rozalyn and I just saw her leaving.”

  Kate’s eyes widened. “When I saw her she was talking to her stepbrother Drew in the hallway—”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charity found herself pacing. Mitch hadn’t called back about Lynette Hargrove. That wasn’t like him. Maybe there was nothing to find. Or maybe there was something. Something he didn’t want to see in print. That was more likely.

  She started to pick up the phone and call Mitch. Instead, she dialed one of the two numbers she’d gotten from the Portland directory. Neither line had answered earlier, not that she’d expected them to since Drew and Suzanne were both in Timber Falls.

  The number for Drew Lane rang and rang. She started to hang up, wondering why she didn’t just call Mitch when a young male voice said, “Hello?” He sounded breathless.

  “Andrew Lane?” Charity asked incredulously.

  “Yes?” Now he sounded suspicious.

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to find the attorney’s son.”

  “My father is deceased.”

  “I’m not sure I have the right Andrew Lane. You have a sister Suzanne?”

  “Yes?” More suspicion in his voice.

  “Just tell me this. Has your mother Emily remarried?”

  “No,” he said. “What is this about?”

  “I do have the wrong number. Sorry.” Charity hung up with fingers shaking, as she quickly dialed Roz’s cell phone. Out of the area or turned off. Charity felt cold inside and scared. What were the chances that there was another hotshot attorney named Andrew Lane with a wife named Emily and two grown children named Andrew and Suzanne? None. Nada. Nil.

  Liam’s new wife hadn’t just passed herself off as Emily Lane, she’d brought along two offspring. Hers? Or had she just borrowed them from some actor’s school?

  And the big question: Why?

  For Liam Sawyer’s money just as Florie had suspected.

  Frantically, Charity started to dial Mitch’s number but then she saw his patrol car go racing by.

  Charity grabbed her purse and ran out to her car in hot pursuit.

  THE LIGHTS of the patrol car cut through the darkness as Mitch raced up to the Dennison house. It was a huge house with white pillars, a Southern mansion in the wilds of Oregon. Wade had built it for his young wife. Off to the back were stables from when Wade had bought Daisy expensive horses. Directly behind the house was a large indoor pool and recreation room larger than any hotel.

  The last time Mitch had been out here, the drapes had been drawn and he’d had to force Daisy Dennison to come to the door. She’d been a recluse for twenty-seven years. That was until a woman named Nina Monroe had come to town with a secret. Since then, Daisy seemed to have come back to life, kicking Wade out and, if local rumors were right, talking about filing for divorce, both of which had obviously set her husband off.

  And that’s what worried Mitch as he noticed this visit the drapes were open, all the lights on and the front door was standing ajar. The four-car carport off to the right was also open and empty except for Daisy’s SUV.

  On the way through town, Mitch had seen Desiree Dennison’s little red sports car parked in front of the Duck Inn bar. Today was the maid’s day off. She always went to Portland on her day off and was a creature of habit like none other Mitch had ever seen.

  That meant Daisy had been alone.

  Mitch swore as he parked beside Wade’s Ford Navigator, got out and started up the wide steps to the veranda.

  “Daisy? Wade? It’s Sheriff Tanner.” No answer.

  He stepped into the foyer, broken glass grating under his shoe sole. A pane of glass from the front door lay shattered on the floor.

  Mitch drew his weapon and moved deeper into the house. In the living room, he saw the remains of what appeared to have been a struggle. An overturned chair. A lamp base crushed on the floor next to it. More glass and—

  He froze, heart hammering. The wall was splattered with what at first appeared to be blood. A broken wineglass lay on the floor in a puddle of red the same color as the spots on the wall. Mitch took a temporarily relieved breath.

  “Daisy? Wade?” Still no answer. He continued through the lower floor of the house and had started up the wide staircase when he spotted the bright-colored scarf on the floor in front of a set of French doors that opened on the back of the house. Past it, he saw the lights were on in the pool house, shadows moving jerkily inside.

  He ran to the pool house in time to hear the report of a gunshot echoing across the water. He didn’t feel the pain until he was already pitching forward.

  DREW PRESSED the hard, cold barrel of the gun against Roz’s temple. “Stop here,” he ordered.

  She brought the sports car to a stop and leaned over the wheel, still fighting the heart-wrenching sobs that had made driving nearly impossible when he’d told her that her father was dead.

  Drew reached over, turned off the engine and pocketed the key. A smothering darkness moved in quickly around them. The only sound was Roz sobbing softly.

  “Come on.”

  She lifted her head, wiping her tears, anger stilling her sobs temporarily. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. He’d forced her to drive to a spot along the far side of the house, hidden from both the guest house and the front driveway.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair. “Get out. Go slow. I’m coming with you.”

  She opened her door. She’d already looked into his eyes, seen the bottomless coldness she’d glimpsed in Emily’s eyes. It was what had convinced her to go quietly with him in the hospital.

  Drew had come up behind her as she had stopped in her father’s hospital room doorway. He’d motioned for her to be quiet or he would kill her, then he dragged her back away from the door making it clear he wouldn’t just kill her but Ford also if she screamed or struggled.

  She’d gone with him thinking Ford would be safe. Once in the car, Drew had told her that her father was dead. That Ford hadn’t gotten there in time to save Liam from Dr. Harris, a friend of Drew’s mother.

  “Mother wants to see you,” Drew said now as he slid out of the car behind her, still gripping a handful of her hair and pressing the gun barrel against her temple.

  Roz hadn’t said a word since Drew had forced her from the hospital and into his car. She’d cried but done as he ordered, all the time feeling the grief turn to rage.

  As her eyes adjusted to the light, she could make out the crest of the house over the top of the trees. Drew let go of her hair to pull a flashlight from his jacket pocket. He gave it three short flashes, all pointed toward the house.

  An instant later, a light came on in the attic near the widow’s walk and Roz saw Emily waiting for them.

  AS MITCH fell to the pool house floor, the thick scent of chlorine filling his lungs, he saw Daisy and Wade on the other side of the lap pool struggling for the gun.

  He saw the intensity of the struggle in Daisy’s face just before he hit the tile floor hard. Pain shot up his side and he thought he would black out. “Put down the gun, Wade,” he ordered weakly.

  It was an idle threat as he watched his own weapon dislodge from his fingers and skitter across the tiles to come to rest under one of the lounge chairs.

  Mitch tried to rise, realized it wasn’t going to happen and rolled over onto his back. He clutched his side, his uniform shirt soaked with what he knew was his own blood.

  Daisy was screeching now.

  Another shot reverberated through the pool house. More pain. In his left leg this time. The screeching sound ended in a loud splash.

  “Daisy?” His voice came out a hoarse whisper. He turned his head. He could see her in the water now, Wade standing over her on the edge of the pool on the other side, the gun in his hand.

  “Wade, don’t kill him!” Daisy cried as she surfaced and began to swim toward Mitch. “Kill me. That’s why you came up here. Kill me!”

  “Don’t do it, Wade,” Mitch said gritting his teeth against the pain. Tiny dark spots danced before his eyes and he willed himself not to pass out. “You okay, Daisy?” He could hear the lap of water next to him. “Daisy?”

  “She’s just fine,” Wade said, his voice sounding strange even to Mitch’s ears. Closer than he’d expected, too. He was standing over Mitch, looking down at him. Wade’s jacket bloomed with blood from a bullet hole, shoulder-high.

  “Oh God, Wade, what have you done?” Daisy said weakly from the edge of the pool.

  “Shut up,” Wade bellowed, his voice echoing across the water as he swung the gun on her. “I should kill you. You shot me. You’re trying to destroy me.”

  Daisy pushed a lock of wet hair back from her face and looked up at her husband with hatred in her eyes. “Destroy you?!” she screamed. “Destroy you after what you did to me?!”

  “Shut up!” Wade bellowed and closed his eyes, grimacing as if in pain. “I loved you. I loved you.”

  Mitch caught movement behind Wade. His heart stopped as he saw Charity creep into the pool house unnoticed. She carefully picked up one of the oars that decorated the wall over the pool door.

  “Take it easy, Wade,” Mitch said, his voice raspy with pain. Neither Wade nor Daisy had seen Charity edging toward Wade with the oar. “You don’t want to kill anyone.”

  Wade wagged his big head. “You think I shot you? That’s what she wants you to think. She set me up. Told me to come to the house to talk about things and then pulled a gun on me and shot me.”

  “Wade, no one’s going to believe that story,” Daisy said, sounding tired and depressed. “Everyone in town knows your temper. I shot you to defend myself. You were trying to kill me.”

  He was shaking his head. “I loved you.” His voice broke. He sounded close to tears. “I would have done anything for you. Anything. Even raised another man’s child.”

  Mitch thought of his own mother and felt a chill as he looked at the venomous way Daisy glared at Wade. This is what he feared in a relationship. That love could turn to hate just like that.

  Wade opened his eyes and pointed the gun at her head. She didn’t even blink.

  “Go ahead, Wade. Put me out of my misery. Do it. Kill me!” Daisy cried up at him. “You weak bastard. You can’t even do that.”

  Charity swung the oar. Wade didn’t know what hit him. The force of the blow dislodged the gun from his hand. It fell into the water as he went sailing out over the pool past Daisy, belly-flopping on the water and sending up a huge splash.

  Mitch closed his eyes and lay back.

  “Oh, Mitch.” Charity was crying as she jerked off her shirt and wadded it up against the wound in his side. He could hear the sound of an ambulance and knew she had to have called when she heard the first shot. “You’d do anything to get out of marrying me.”

  He opened his eyes and tried to smile.

  “Damn you, don’t you even think about dying on me,” she said tearfully. “I swear I’ll track you down in heaven.”

  He managed to smile up at her. At least he thought he did. She looked beautiful. Especially without her shirt. Along with the sound of the ambulance, he could hear the sound of a motorcycle coming up the road, hell-bent. Jesse to the rescue. She’d called Jesse as well. What would he do without Charity? he wondered. He hoped he never had to find out.

  He heard Wade come up sputtering from the deep end of the pool, all the fight gone out of him as he treaded water, his clothes billowing around him in the water.

  Mitch glanced over at Daisy. She had disappeared under the water. He tried to sit up. Couldn’t. Got out only the one word. “Gun.”

  Charity turned just as Daisy came up with the weapon Wade had dropped. She had it in both hands and was pointing the barrel end at Wade.

  “I’m never going to have to fear you again,” she said and pulled the trigger.

  Wade didn’t even try to duck the bullet. He just stared at her with a hurt look on his face as the bullet tore through the sleeve of his shirt and the flesh of his arm.

  Charity dove into the water, coming up behind Daisy and grabbed her around the neck with one arm. As they struggled for the gun, Mitch called on every ounce of strength he had to drag himself over to the lounge chair, reach under it and come up with his gun.

  He fired the shot in the air. “Drop the gun, Daisy. Now!” His voice boomed across the pool.

  Daisy stilled. The weapon slipped from her fingers, made a faint splash, then floated slowly to the bottom of the pool. Charity released her hold on Daisy’s neck as Jesse came racing in, took one look at the situation, pulled Mitch’s weapon from his fingers and began giving orders.

  Mitch lay back and closed his eyes again. He could smell Charity’s perfume, feel her warm breath on his cheek, her wet hand brushing his hair back from his forehead. He was overwhelmed with his love for her. “Marry me.”

  Silence. “What?”

  He opened his eyes and looked into hers. Any doubts he had about him and Charity were gone like a puff of smoke. In some cases, maybe love could conquer all. All he knew was that he couldn’t go on living without this woman. “Marry me.” Unfortunately, he blacked out before he heard her reply.

  ROZ LOOKED toward the house, her legs turning to water beneath her as she saw what Drew and Emily had planned for her. She’d been afraid at the hospital. Even more frightened in the car, thinking Drew was just going to take her out and shoot her. But now she knew that her death was to be exactly like her mother’s. History was to repeat itself.

  A tremor rattled through her. She fought back the terror that threatened to incapacitate her. She would die trying to avenge Liam Sawyer’s death—and if she could, she would take Drew and his mother with her.

  As Drew pushed her toward an opening in the dense garden behind the house, shining the flashlight beam a few feet in front of her, she wondered where Suzanne was. Hiding in a bottle or had that, too, just been an act? Was Suzanne waiting for her as well?