Yes, unfortunately, her sisters did know her. That’s why they didn’t like her. “Something’s happened.” She explained about the walled-up alcove and what had been found inside.

  “You can’t be serious. A man’s body?”

  “I’m afraid so. Would you let TJ know? From what the sheriff has told me, it’s been in there for years. I remembered there used to be an alcove there. Do you remember it?”

  “I suppose. It’s just been so long. I’m not sure I would have remembered. You’re saying this happened when?”

  “After we all left home. That’s what the coroner thinks so somewhere in the past thirteen years.”

  “How did he get into the wall?” Chloe asked.

  Annabelle stifled a laugh. The question was so like her sister. Oh, he just crawled into the alcove and curled up to die while Grandma built a wall around him. “He was murdered, wrapped in plastic and walled up in the kitchen.”

  “They can’t think Grandmother did that!” her sister cried.

  “I’m afraid that’s exactly what they think.” Annabelle thought of the photos and the newspaper clippings. It was all going to come out. She figured warning her sisters was the kindest thing she could do.

  She told Chloe about what she’d found under the floorboard and under her bed, along with what she found in the metal box.

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” Chloe snapped when she was finished. “Our grandmother was not a mobster’s girlfriend.”

  “The dead man worked for the mobster. The sheriff thinks the man followed Grandma from New York and that the reason she killed him probably has to do with the Marco Polo Heist, a famous robbery back in New York. They’ve never found the jewels or the money that was taken.”

  Chloe had fallen silent.

  “I’m sorry to hit you with all of this, but it is going to come out,” Annabelle said.

  “What is that noise?”

  “Dawson is in the kitchen removing the rest of the wall and putting down new flooring.”

  “That house is never going to sell.”

  Annabelle thought her sister was probably right about that. Murder houses weren’t that popular. “I will probably be returning to California and keeping the house on the market. I’ve been offered a really good modeling job.” Annabelle glanced in the direction of the kitchen. “Unless I decide to stay.”

  “You’re thinking about staying? You have to stay at least until Christmas. TJ and I have already bought our tickets. We were going to surprise you. Surprise! We’re coming up there to help you sell the house and have Christmas together. We were planning to be there a few days before Christmas Eve.”

  “Really?”

  “Would that be all right or do you need to get to your job before then?”

  “No, it would be wonderful.” Annabelle was having trouble believing they really were coming back to help her so the three of them could have Christmas together, especially after she’d just told them the news.

  “Now, more than ever, I feel like we should be together for the holidays,” Chloe said.

  Annabelle was fighting tears when she heard the knock at her bedroom door. “I couldn’t be happier,” she said, her voice breaking. “I have to go, but I will talk to you soon.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Willie asked when Annabelle opened the door, still fighting tears.

  She shook her head. “That was my sister Chloe. She and TJ are coming up to spend Christmas with me.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Willie hugged Annabelle. “I’m happy for you.” As she pulled back, she said, “Dawson thought things would go faster if you came out to the house and stayed at the ranch until he’s finished.”

  She could see what the two of them were trying to do. “Thank you, but I’m staying here.”

  “Are you sure?” Willie asked, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen.

  “I’m sure.” Annabelle smiled. “My grandmother left me this house because she knew I was the one who could deal with all this.”

  “Yes, you’re plenty strong,” Dawson’s mother agreed.

  He called from the kitchen, wanting Annabelle to see if she liked the hardwood floor he’d ordered.

  “I’m going to take off, then,” Willie said. “If you change your mind...”

  “I know where you live,” Annabelle said with a smile. “Thank you again for everything.”

  “You bet,” Willie said and called goodbye to her son as she left.

  Dawson looked surprised. “I thought she was going to ask you to stay at the ranch.”

  “She did. I’m staying here.”

  He didn’t look happy to hear that. “It’s going to be noisy and dusty.”

  “I’ll make do. My sisters are coming up for Christmas.” She laughed at his surprise.

  “So you’re staying that long? What about the job offer?”

  “It wouldn’t start until after the holidays. But I’m not sure I’m going to take it, anyway. I still have to get the house sold.”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and the house will sell and there won’t be anything keeping you here after the holidays,” he said and turned away to show her the flooring.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I’m getting better at accepting help, don’t you think?”

  He glanced over at her. “You are.”

  “Who says people can’t change?” With that, she turned and left him to it.

  * * *

  ROB COULDN’T BELIEVE how quickly the house had filled up again after the sheriff’s department finished its investigation. He’d kept his ear to the ground, but it seemed there hadn’t been anything else of interest found.

  “I think the old girl got rid of the loot,” he grumbled to himself. “Maybe she didn’t even try to fence it. Could have sold it to a private collector. It wasn’t like she hadn’t met the kind of people who would have been interested. And now my uncle thinks she did him a favor? The foolish old coot definitely has dementia.”

  Still, he knew what his uncle would have said. Someone would have talked if they’d bought the gems. That was the problem with even the filthy rich, they liked to brag. If one of them had bought the jewels from Francesca Clementine, word would have gotten back to Bernie. And the old gal would have died a long time ago.

  So she’d kept it for whatever reason. Hidden them like she had poor Mickey’s body. He cringed at the thought of being walled up in a house like that. Sure, the goon was dead, but still.

  Frannie, as everyone referred to her, had stiffed Bernie, gotten out of town and come out West telling everyone she was a widow. The woman probably couldn’t have told the truth if her life depended on it. She couldn’t have found a husband, gotten knocked up and become a widow that quickly, unless...

  He frowned. Not long after arriving, she’d bought the house and given birth to a son, according to the local gossips he’d overhead at the café downstairs in the hotel. As far as anyone knew, she’d never had a full-time job other than raising her grandkids when they’d come to live with her when they were young. His frown deepened.

  He stopped pacing to count on his fingers, then swore.

  His uncle had wondered for over fifty years why she’d left like she had. He counted again to make sure before he picked up the phone. “You aren’t going to like this,” he said and then told Bernie. Let him do the math.

  * * *

  “I’M CALLING IT a day,” Dawson said as he put away his tools. He’d looked up to find Annabelle standing in the doorway.

  “I can’t believe how much you got done,” she said. “It looks great. I like that that stupid wall isn’t still there.”

  “You sure you aren’t going to have nightmares tonight?” he asked seriously as he closed his toolbox and straightened.

  “No,” she said, realizing it was true. “It’s funny, but this house seemed more creepy with that wall. Now that’s it’s gone and what was behind it, I’m fine.” She shook her head. “At least I know now why my grandmother left the house to me.” She had to smile. “She said I was a lot like her.”

  “I hope not,” Dawson said with a laugh.

  “I guess we’ll never know for sure what happened here. If McCall is right, then it all has to do with that museum exhibit on Marco Polo and the stolen jewels. I’d like to think the man’s death was self-defense—and that grandmother did what she had to do to protect us all. If she was running from her mobster boyfriend... We already know that she was pregnant, probably with his child. It’s funny. She always seemed so...content, as if she’d made her peace with the past and everything else.”

  “She did a good job of raising you girls and everyone in this community loved her.”

  “Well, they did. Wait until they learn about the man she kept in her wall.”

  “This town is pretty forgiving. Your grandmother did so much good in this community. That’s what will be remembered.”

  “I hope so.”

  He stood for moment just looking at her. She felt the chemistry sparking between them and a whole lot of good past history making the kitchen suddenly seem too warm. “I should get goin’.”

  Annabelle stepped out of his way and let him walk out. She was staying for Christmas. There would be time to see how he felt about her maybe staying around. She watched him drive away and then closed the door and locked it.

  * * *

  “I WASN’T SURE you’d be back to the ranch tonight,” Willie said as Dawson walked into her kitchen to find her standing over the stove.

  “I don’t know why not,” he said and leaned in to see what she was busy stirring. “Chili?”

  She nodded. “The way you and your brother like it.”

  “I thought we’d be eating leftover turkey for a few weeks,” he said as he leaned against the counter to watch. When his mother was fretting over something, she cooked. He didn’t have to ask what was bothering her.

  “That huge old turkey carcass got picked clean at Thanksgiving,” Willie said. “That’s what’s nice about having a lot of people over. Not a lot of leftovers.”

  “You don’t mind me using some of the ranch funds to buy Annabelle’s house?”

  “I think it’s a good investment.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that. “I figure the sale will go through pretty quickly so she should be able to leave right after the holidays.”

  “Sounds like you have it all worked out.” Willie stopped stirring the chili to turn to face him. With a sigh, she said, “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “She doesn’t want to go.” Willie made it sound as if it was hard for her to tell him that.

  “What would make you think that?”

  His mother gave him a look. “You live as long as I have and you know things. She just doesn’t know how to tell you so neither of you think she’s taking the easy way out.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t take this wrong, but this time, you’re wrong.” He started to turn away but she caught his arm and pulled him back.

  “I was thinking as I was making this chili. Maybe it’s time for some sort of grand gesture, you know, like they do in movies, to let her know how you feel.”

  Dawson chuckled at that. “She knows how I feel, Mama.” He hadn’t called her that since he was a boy.

  She let go of his arm. “You want some chili?”

  “I’m not hungry, but thanks.” With that he left and headed to his own home, knowing that without Annie there it would feel empty—just like he felt.

  * * *

  ANNABELLE WOKE WITH a start. For a moment, she thought the sound had come from under the bed, but Dawson had secured the trapdoor with the nails. No one was coming up through that door.

  She lay in bed listening. There was a strange light coming through the curtains. She frowned and quietly climbed out of bed to look. After a longer than normal Indian summer, winter had come while she was sleeping.

  The first blizzard of the season had blown in. She could tell that the temperature had dropped drastically from the ice that was forming on the inside of the old windows. The sky, which should have been dark, was a pale gray color as huge snowflakes whirled in the wind, sticking to anything they touched.

  She shivered and climbed back into bed, telling herself she must have heard the wind. Gripping the covers under her chin, she lay still, listening to the wind—until she heard a sound that sent her pulse into overdrive. The front door had just blown open!

  * * *

  ROB HAD KNOWN his uncle was going to be furious.

  “She was pregnant? Pregnant with my kid?”

  “If you do the math—”

  “I did the math. I had a son I knew nothing about? Where is he now?”

  “Died in a car wreck with his wife when the youngest kid was, like, four or five, I heard. You can’t believe the way people talk in these small towns. If you stay here long enough, you hear—”

  “So that’s my grandkid staying at the house,” his uncle said, clearly not listening to him. “My granddaughter. And Baby Doll kept this all from me.” He was swearing again.

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  “What I told you to do. Find the damned loot. But don’t touch a hair on my granddaughter’s head. You got that?”

  He couldn’t believe the old man was getting sentimental in his old age.

  “I got it. But what do I do if she catches me in the house?”

  “Figure it out. But don’t you hurt her. Not one hair.”

  He’d hung up doing some cussing of his own. Then he’d gotten dressed and started to leave the motel, only to find that a snowstorm had blown in. Just his luck. But he couldn’t put this off any longer. He would break into the house and finish his search. If he was right, no way would the granddaughter be staying in the house—not after a body had been hauled out of it.

  * * *

  ANNABELLE SCRAMBLED OUT of bed and rushed into the living room to close the front door. She turned on a light and was about to bolt the door, when she heard a noise behind her. Turning quickly, she saw the snowy footprints melting on the floor a second before she came face-to-face with Lawrence Clarkston, the old man with the cane who’d sworn he was Frannie’s beau. He’d lied, according to Inez. Worse, she’d noticed his car parked in front of the neighbor woman’s house across the street.

  She stared at him, shocked to see him standing in the empty living room. Even more surprised to see the gun in his hand. He motioned for her to step away from the door.

  “Where’s the jewels?” he demanded. “I know your grandmother still had them when she died. She might have spent the money, but she still had the gems.”

  Annabelle groaned. “I don’t know anything about any jewels.”

  “My brother followed your mother out here. I never knew where he ended up. She’d changed her name, her looks, everything. I’m amazed Mickey was even able to get a lead on her. Bernie was losing his mind trying to find her. He’s been looking for her for years. My brother finds her and she kills him!”

  She didn’t know what to say. “If you knew your brother found her—”

  “He called, told me he’d found her but didn’t give me any specifics. Damned fool. He thought he could keep the jewels for him, fence them and not have Bernie find out. I was trying to talk him out of it, telling him how dangerous it would be.” He laughed. “Instead, Bernie’s Baby Doll kills him?”

  “He must have told you something since you showed up at my door days before the body was found,” Annabelle said. She didn’t know who or what to believe. This old man had lied to her once already.

  “I’ve kept my ear to the ground for years. When I heard where Bernie was living now, I made sure I got a room down the hall. He doesn’t know me from Adam, but I know him. He corrupted my brother. Mickey was a good guy before he met Bernie.”

  “So Bernie knows about Frannie?”

  He nodded. “You know why they called him Bernie the Hawk? ’Cuz he had an eye for the ladies—until your grandmother came along. He fell so hard for that woman. My brother said anyone could have told him she was trouble, but no one had the guts. I laughed my ass off when I heard that she stole it all and disappeared.”

  Her mind was racing. She glanced around for a way out. Since they’d pretty much cleaned out the house, there was no handy weapon. The door was a few steps behind her, but she doubted she could turn and reach it before the man shot her.

  “Look,” he was saying. “Mickey wasn’t all that bright. I thought he’d taken off with the jewels. But when I happened to see the newspaper in Bernie’s trash at the rest home, I got curious. Bernie was all excited. Everyone at the home was talking about it. I went online, saw the Milk River Courier newspaper and checked out what Bernie had cut from it. The moment I saw your grandmother’s face...” He smiled. “Bernie must have felt the same thing. Your grandmother was a looker. Played Bernie like a Stradivarius. Did you know she never told him her real name? He just called her Baby Doll.”

  The old man took a breath. “When I found out that Bernie had sent his worthless nephew, Robby, out here, I thought it was going to be another wild-goose chase. How wrong I was. So hand over the jewels and I’m out of here.”

  She started to tell him again that she really didn’t know anything, when they both jumped at the sound of glass breaking.

  Lawrence swore and said, “Stay right here.” The moment he started toward her bedroom, she quickly unlocked the door. She didn’t think the old man could move fast enough to catch her and once she was outside in the blizzard—

  Annabelle had the door open and was almost outside when she slammed into a dark figure that appeared out of nowhere. She realized he must have thrown something at her bedroom window to distract the old man. This man wasn’t old. He was big and strong and he literally lifted her up by her shoulders and thrust her back inside the house. He’d just slammed the door behind him when Lawrence came running into the room, gun firing.