Читать книгу Silver River Secrets - Linda Lee Hope - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

“SHE’S B-A-ACK,” Sam Porter announced.

“That so?” Rory Dalton didn’t bother to look up from under the hood of Sam’s ’66 Ford Mustang. Instead, he focused on installing the car’s new water pump.

“Yep. She’s just about to head over the bridge. Aren’t you gonna come look?”

Rory gave the wrench another twist. “I’m busy fixing your car, in case you didn’t notice. Besides, how do you know it’s her?”

“She’s driving a convertible with the top down. A white Camaro. Could be a classic.”

“No kidding.” Rory straightened and regarded his friend, who stood at the open end of Dalton’s Auto Repair. He and Sam had been buddies since they played football for Silver River High ten years ago, and both shared an interest in classic cars.

Sam laughed. “Thought that’d get your attention. Hurry up or you’ll miss her. She travels.”

Rory tossed the wrench on the workbench and trotted over to stand beside Sam. From the shop’s hilltop vantage point, he had a sweeping view of the highway leading into Idaho’s Silver River. Her car was the only one on the road. As Sam said, it was a Camaro. A ’75, to be exact, not quite old enough to be considered a classic. Still, a fine set of wheels.

The car held his interest for only a moment, and then he zeroed in on the driver: Lacey Morgan. Her long, dark brown hair swirled around her face. Sunglasses shaded her eyes, and a sleeveless top exposed her tanned arms.

Rory’s throat went dry.

Just then, she looked up to the hilltop. Rory jumped back, hoping she hadn’t spotted him. He didn’t want her to think he had the slightest interest in her return to Silver River.

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Wonder how long she’ll be here this time.”

“She never stays more than a week. Just long enough to check on her grandmother.”

“Might be longer. Remy broke her hip. She went straight from rehab to Riverview. Lacey’s here to help her get settled and to clean out her old apartment.”

“I heard about Remy’s accident. I’m sorry she’s had trouble. But how do you know so much? Or would that be violating lawyer-client confidentiality?”

Sam laughed. “Not at all. That bit of info comes from Ida Capshaw. She’s our paralegal, you know, and she plays bridge with Remy.”

“Ah.” Rory stepped forward again in time to see Lacey’s car sweep over the bridge and join the traffic on Main Street. Then a delivery truck pulled in behind her, and she was lost from his view.

He gave his head a quick shake and frowned at Sam. “Why are we standing here wasting time when there’s work to be done?”

Sam’s eyebrows peaked. “Because she’s back?”

“So? No business of mine.”

“So you keep telling me. But I have a feeling you’re in for trouble, this time. Big trouble.”

* * *

LACEY MORGAN HEADED down Main Street with the image of Rory Dalton imprinted on her mind. She hadn’t intended to look up at his auto shop when she rounded that last curve in the highway, but she had, and there he had been, gazing down at her as though he’d been waiting for her to drive by. Which was crazy. Why should he care that she’d come to town again? He knew she made the trip from Boise to Silver River periodically to visit her grandmother. When their paths crossed, they said little more than a brief “hello.”

The events of that fateful day ten years ago, just a week before they both were to graduate from Silver River High, with their whole future ahead of them—a future they planned to spend together—had ripped them apart and turned them into strangers.

An overhead banner advertising the town’s annual Silver River Days caught her eye. This year’s dates were August 10–15. She’d be long gone by then. Cleaning out Gram’s apartment and settling her into Riverview would take no more than a week, tops.

Lacey’s boss at the Boise Historical Society was generous about her visits to Silver River, and especially about the extra time she needed for this trip. Even if she’d wanted to stay for the celebration—which she didn’t—she wouldn’t ask for more time off.

Leaving the downtown behind, Lacey was soon in the country again. Rambling mountain ranges surrounded her, and here and there the river popped into view, sparkling in the sunlight.

Another mile brought the turnoff to Sophie’s Bed and Breakfast, where globe lights along the driveway guided Lacey to the Victorian-style house painted bright lavender with white trim.

She parked in the guest lot and pulled her suitcase on wheels up the flagstone walk to the porch. Several middle-aged guests sat in wicker chairs chatting and drinking iced tea. They exchanged “hellos” with Lacey as she passed by.

Inside the house, Sophie Bennett came from around the counter with arms outstretched. “Lacey! I’ve been watching for you.”

“Hello, Sophie.” Lacey returned Sophie’s hug, catching a whiff of her lilac-scented perfume.

Sophie stood back and held Lacey at arm’s length. “Good to see you.”

“You, too.”

Sophie’s bright blue T-shirt and orange slacks fit smoothly over her trim figure. An orange scarf holding back shoulder-length blond hair revealed a hint of gray at the temples.

Sophie returned to her post behind the counter to check Lacey in. That completed, she took a key from a drawer and motioned to Lacey. “Come on. I’ll take you up to your room.”

They went down a carpeted hallway to the stairs. The rooms they passed offered Lacey glimpses of wood paneling and wallpaper, brocaded fabrics and patterned carpets, hurricane lamps and heavy draperies. The B and B had long been a dream of Sophie’s, and when she finally convinced her husband, Hugh, to buy the place, she fixed it up in style.

“Sorry to hear about your grandmother’s accident,” Sophie said over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs. “How’s she doing?”

“Determined to walk again, but agrees it’s time to be in a place where someone can look after her.”

“There’s no better place around here than Riverview.”

“I know. We’re so lucky the owners decided to build their retirement home here rather than in Milton.”

On the second floor, Sophie stopped at one of the rooms and slipped her key into the lock. “Here we are.”

Lacey followed her inside, her gaze taking in a queen-size bed with a colorful patchwork quilt, an armoire, an overstuffed chair and a round rosewood table. A Tiffany lamp decorated with yellow roses hung over the table.

“I love it!” Lacey exclaimed.

“Fabulous view, too. Take a look.”

Lacey parked her suitcase next to the luggage rack and followed Sophie to the window. In the courtyard below, water gushed from a stone fountain, and walkways wound through gardens full of flowers. Beyond lay the river and neighboring farms.

Then her gaze landed on an all-too-familiar copse of willow trees and a two-story house with peeling white paint. Her stomach dropped. “Oh...”

“What’s the matter?” Sophie’s voice rose in alarm.

“Our old house. Gram’s house.”

“You can see it from here?” Sophie peered out the window. “Oh, my. Lacey, I’m sorry. I never realized...” Sophie pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at Lacey. “You don’t have to stay in this room. You can move across the hall.”

Lacey shook her head. “No, I want this one.”

“But to be reminded whenever you look out the window...”

“Sophie, not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened in that house.”

“I’m sorry, honey, so sorry. But I do wish you could put the past behind you.”

Lacey shook her head and bit her lower lip. “Not possible.”

Sophie let a moment of silence pass and then said, “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t want to change rooms, I’ll let you get settled. You probably want to go see your grandmother right away.”

“Yes, I’m having dinner with her, but that still gives me time to unpack.”

“If you need help bringing in more stuff, Hugh is around somewhere.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Lacey lifted her suitcase onto the luggage rack and unzipped it.

Sophie walked toward the door but then stopped and turned. “Don’t forget the party tonight.”

Lacey looked up. “Party?”

“Yes, I mentioned it when you made your reservation. We’re having a kickoff party for Silver River Days, here in our courtyard.”

“Oh, right. I saw the banner in town. But I don’t think—”

“Please come, Lacey.”

Lacey pressed her lips together. “But I won’t be here for the celebration itself. And, well, you know I feel uncomfortable at town gatherings.”

Sophie slowly shook her head. “Lacey, it’s been ten years. Do you really think people are looking at you and thinking only that your father was a...was...”

Lacey closed her eyes. “Go ahead and say it, Sophie. A murderer. You, along with everybody else in this town, believe that my father shot and killed Rory Dalton’s father in cold blood. But he didn’t. I know he didn’t.”

“The jury convicted him.”

“They were wrong.”

Sophie stepped close and put her arm around Lacey’s shoulders. “You know Hugh and I were friends with your parents, hon. We used to go out together. And, okay, your dad was a hothead sometimes, but we put up with him. No question we loved your mom. Nobody mourned her death more than we did. I miss her to this day. But don’t you think it’s time for you to move on?”

“If only I could prove his innocence...”

“Let it go, Lacey.”

Lacey squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

* * *

CARRYING A VASE of pink roses, Lacey knocked on the door to her grandmother’s apartment at the Riverview Retirement Community.

“Come in,” came the cheery reply.

She opened the door and stepped into the apartment’s compact kitchenette and from there into the living room.

Remylon Whitfield, looking crisp and cool in a pink cotton blouse and white slacks, sat in her wheelchair near the patio door. She held out her arms. “Lacey, love! I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Good to be here, Gram.” Lacey set her purse and the flowers on a table and then hurried to Remy’s side and gave her a warm hug.

“I’ve missed you,” Gram said when they ended their embrace. She glanced over Lacey’s shoulder and clapped her hands. “You brought me some roses. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The best housewarming present I could think of.”

“They’re perfect. Did you get your room at Sophie’s? You’re staying for dinner here, though, right? We can play Scrabble afterward.”

Gram’s eyes behind her glasses were hopeful.

“I should have time for a game or two, although Sophie wants me to come to their Silver River Days party tonight. I told her I’d think about it.”

“You should go, dear.”

Lacey sighed. “I just don’t feel comfortable in this town.”

“I know, honey. Sometimes, when I get to thinking about the past, I don’t, either.” Gram looked down at her hands.

“But it’s different for you. Having your son-in-law accused of murder is not the same as having your father, your flesh and blood, accused.”

“Not accused, dear. Convicted,” Gram said in a reproving tone.

Lacey opened her mouth to argue but then clamped her jaw shut. No sense in firing up their old disagreement, especially when she’d just arrived. Her gaze landed on two cardboard boxes sitting beside the patio doors. “Looks like you’ve already done some moving.”

Gram nodded. “Cousin Bessie helped me gather some things together before she left. Vernon brought the boxes over when he came to pick her up.”

“That was nice of him. I could start unpacking them now. We have some time before dinner.”

“Might as well.”

While Lacey tackled the boxes, which contained mostly linens that she stowed away either in the bathroom or in the hall closet, her grandmother filled her in on her new life at Riverview. The food was good, the aides were nice and she’d met the woman next door, who was also a bridge player.

“Sounds like you’re settling in,” Lacey said.

Gram sighed. “Maybe so, but I’m sure gonna miss Cousin Bessie.”

“I know. I’m glad you two were apartment neighbors these past years. But I can understand her wanting to go with her son and his family when he was transferred. You have a lot of close friends in town, especially your bridge club.”

“Not like family. Not much left of our family now... Just you and me.” Gram gave her a sidelong glance.

Lacey knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Gram let a few seconds go by and then said, “Would be nice to live closer to each other.”

Lacey tucked the last pair of sheets and pillowcases into a drawer in the hall closet. “Anytime you want to move to Boise, I’ll find a place for you.”

Gram folded her arms. “Only way I’d ever leave Silver River is in a pine box, and then I’ll go only as far as Restlawn. I’ll not run away like you did.”

Lacey’s stomach churned. “I didn’t run away. I went away to college, which I had planned to do before...before...” She shut the drawer and spread her hands. “Gram, please, let’s not spoil my visit.”

Gram wrinkled her brow. “You’re right. I’m sorry, honey. I just wish you would come back home where you belong.”

Where you belong. Gram’s words brought an ache to Lacey’s heart. No, as much as she might wish it were so, she did not belong in Silver River. Not anymore.

If she could somehow prove her father’s innocence, then she could hold her head high and live here again. But, after ten years, what hope did she have of that?