скачать книгу бесплатно
The years slipped away and she was five years old again. Each night when her father returned from work, he had emptied his pockets of coins and dollars into a similar box. She glanced at the footprints once more. The intruder had known exactly what he was looking for.
Though rifling through a stranger’s belongings went against her nature, she opened the second drawer and discovered a stack of folded blue handkerchiefs. Her heart kicked in her chest. She’d seen the same handkerchief before.
Lifting her head, she gazed out the window. Emil’s bedroom directly overlooked the hotel and the boardwalk, where a wooden chair sat empty.
I like the view.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured Jake’s boots. Pointed tips. How could she forget? She’d stared at them propped on the boardwalk rail for nearly twenty minutes. The footprints in the snow had been square-toed.
“Oh, dear.”
She had a bad feeling Emil’s troubles were wrapped up with a man who wore a peacock embroidered vest and winked without closing his eye.
She closed the lid with a snap and hastily exited the space.
Sensing the change in her mood, Sam scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. When we return to the hotel, pack your belongings. We might have to leave in a hurry.” She knelt before Sam and Peter and held their hands. “I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always look out for you. I won’t let anything bad happen.”
Peter clutched his package. “Can we keep the presents?”
“Yes. We’ll take them with us.”
She reached for the doorknob and discovered the metal casing was bent and hung loose.
Sam paused on the threshold. “What do you suppose happened to Grandpa Emil?”
“I don’t know. But I know someone who can find out.”
* * *
Jake prowled the narrow jail cell. The building wasn’t much to look at. A squat brick structure set slightly north of the town. Only three cells flanked the back wall, a cot in each. Obviously Frozen Oaks was a quiet town without need of more lockups. The walls were rough-hewn and covered with maps and wanted posters. A tattered American flag had been haphazardly pinned between two corners.
He should have told Lily the truth. He’d been trying to protect her and instead he’d put her life in greater danger. Impotent fury settled in his chest. He’d made mistakes in his career before, especially in the beginning.
He’d never felt this powerless.
He tested the bars once again, though more to vent his frustration than discover a weakness. The cell wasn’t particularly sophisticated, but he was without tools. The sheriff had even stripped him of his shoes and belt.
The door swung open and Lily appeared in the entry.
He blinked a few times, wondering if he was hallucinating. Had the blow Sheriff Koepke delivered rattled his brain? She was just as he remembered. Her blond hair surrounded her face in a lustrous halo. Her coat was an indistinguishable shade of brown, but the hem of her bright yellow dress peeked out from beneath the wool.
His jaw hung slack. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll explain later. Where are the keys to the cell?”
He motioned with one hand toward a narrow cupboard on the wall.
Lily and her cheerful smiles were a jaunty dash of liveliness in a desolate world. Entombed in a Nebraska winter for eight weeks, he’d begun to think the wind and snow had extracted all the color from the world. The barren landscape and drab buildings along with the constant haze had taken their toll.
With brisk efficiency she flipped open the door and retrieved the keys. “Where are your shoes?”
Being caught in his stocking feet left him feeling exposed and oddly defenseless.
“On the bench by the door.”
“Hmm.” She snatched one of his boots and studied the sole. Relief flitted across her face. “Just as I thought.”
“What did you think?”
“Never mind. What about your gun belt? You’ll need that, as well.”
“The belt is hanging on the hook above your head, but they took my guns.”
Jake doubted Sheriff Koepke planned on giving them back.
Jingling the keys, she approached his cell.
He braced his hands on the bars. “What are you doing?”
“I’m releasing you.”
He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d declared she was riding an elephant in the Sahara. “You can’t. That’s against the law.”
“What does an outlaw care about breaking the law?”
Good point. “I don’t want you in trouble with the sheriff.”
“It’s my fault you were arrested,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m correcting the wrong. I’m letting you out.”
“That’s not how the law works.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Give me the keys.”
“Why?”
“Because if I open the door, you didn’t break the law. I did.”
“You’re a terrible outlaw.” She dangled the keys through an opening in the bars. “No wonder you got yourself arrested.”
“You have no idea.”
He awkwardly groped at the lock, turned the key and yanked open the door. “Why are you doing this?”
Unbearably relieved he’d purchased new socks the previous week, he took a seat on the bench and tugged his boots over his stocking feet.
“I’ve been doing a little investigating,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve discovered a few things about Vic Skaar.”
Jake’s attention sharpened. “What does Vic Skaar have to do with breaking me out of jail?”
“I searched Emil’s rooms above the barbershop today. Someone had already been there.”
A cold sweat broke out on his aching forehead. “Promise me you’re done with sleuthing, Miss Winter. It’s far too dangerous.”
“I won’t promise you anything. Whoever searched the barbershop knew Emil wasn’t there. He knew Emil wasn’t going to catch him. Don’t you find that suspicious?”
Jake wrapped his gun belt around his waist. He tightened the buckle, then strapped the second tie around his thigh.
The empty holster weighed on his nerves. “And you think you know the identity of this mysterious housebreaker?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who. The ruse doesn’t suit you. The view you were enjoying the other day faced the barbershop. When I saw Vic at the restaurant, he had a blue handkerchief in his pocket. I found the same blue handkerchiefs with Emil’s belongings.”
While Jake admired her investigative skills, he didn’t want her involved in the case. “Coincidence. There’s only one store in town. Why break into someone’s room for a handkerchief?”
“The place was dusty. Vic is clearly fastidious. He searched the rooms, wiped his hands on the handkerchief, then stuck it in his pocket out of habit.”
Jake stifled a groan. “You’re too smart for your own good.”
Keeping her out of danger was going to be impossible at this rate.
“Don’t mock me.” Furious color suffused her cheeks. “I think Vic had something to do with Emil’s disappearance. I believe he may be after Sam and Peter for their inheritance.”
“What brought you to that conclusion?”
He didn’t doubt her, but he was curious about her reasoning.
“Vic just informed me that the Tyler children were now a part of this jurisdiction, and the sheriff has decided that Vic Skaar should assume their guardianship.”
“Those are some awfully fancy words for Sheriff Koepke.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had some time to think while he was locked up. Whatever Vic was searching for, he hadn’t found the item. Jake had watched Vic exit the building looking grimmer than when he entered. There was still something missing from his motivations. If he’d been responsible for Emil’s disappearance over his poker debt, why search his rooms? Dead men didn’t collect debts.
A sudden realization dawned on Jake. Vic hadn’t found out about Emil’s grandchildren until after he’d searched Emil’s rooms. He also hadn’t discovered what he was searching for, which meant he needed a new plan.
Lily, Sam and Peter had dropped into his lap like a gift. Vic and Emil were definitely tangled in some trouble.
None of that explained why Lily wanted to bust him out of jail. Especially considering she’d practically put him there.
“Why are you here?” Jake asked. “I still don’t know what you want from me.”
“I think that’s obvious. You’re a gun for hire, aren’t you?” She extended the pistol she’d held on him earlier, the muzzle down. “Here’s a gun. I want to hire you.”
Chapter Five (#uea4027fd-4959-5dac-a36d-931c72f43198)
Jake flushed. This certainly complicated matters. More for safety than for an acknowledgment of the offer, he accepted the gun.
After flipping open the chamber, he spun the cylinder.
Empty.
Clearly the ancient weapon hadn’t been cleaned or fired in ages. Probably a relic from an elderly relative.
“This gun isn’t much use without the bullets,” he said.
“I know.” Lily scowled. “I forgot about the bullets. I didn’t think having a loaded gun around the children was very safe.”
“It’s not much of a defense either.” While he was grateful she’d relinquished the weapon, he wasn’t finished with his lecture. Lily holding a gun was about as natural as a peacock in a rowboat and just as precarious. “You and I need to have a long and detailed conversation about personal safety and protection.”
“Until then—” she looked him up and down, as though measuring the strength of his resolve “—you may assume the responsibility for the gun.”
Lily Winter took too much for granted. She was far too trusting. What if he was actually an outlaw? What then? She’d just handed a gun to someone she thought was a killer for hire. He could easily shoot her. If he had the bullets, and if the gun’s workings weren’t rusted with age. But that wasn’t the point.
“The gun is mine,” he said. “For now. And we’re not associating. I haven’t agreed to anything.”
She reached for the weapon and he yanked it out of reach.
“You’re stealing my gun?” she cried. “That’s some gratitude for breaking you of jail.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
Her expression turned wintry. “I’ll pay you.”
“How much?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Not enough.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You never intended to accept!”
“I needed to know how much you could afford.”
With an abundance of caution, Sheriff Koepke had barred all the windows in the cramped space. Sunlight persevered, casting blocks of shadows on the floor, illuminating Lily’s expressive face. He shouldn’t goad her, but there was something magnificent about how the sliver of light piercing the barred window lit her blue eyes.
The color reminded him of the feathers on the crown of a barn swallow. The kind of blue that brought to mind the endless summer days of his youth. When he and his brothers had slipped away from their chores and splashed in the stream behind the old barn—before their mother’s death. He’d felt as though his life had been cleaved in two, and everything before her death had dropped into oblivion. He’d thought those memories had vanished from his consciousness, but for some inexplicable reason, Lily and her charges had inspired their reappearance.
The door swung open, snapping him back to the present.
Sam and Peter scuttled inside. They were bundled head to toe against the cold, wrapped like colorful mummies.
The older boy, Sam, tucked his hands in his armpits and shivered. “I don’t think he saw us.”
Peter slammed the door and leaned against the wood panel. “He’s coming!”
