скачать книгу бесплатно
Westin Family Ties
Alice Sharpe
Cody Westin had been a man on a mission since the moment his wife, Cassie, walked away under a cloud of secrecy. She had her reasons, but a Westin never gives up without a fight.So when, after six long months, he was reunited with the woman he'd sworn to love, honor and cherish, it was her very pregnant belly and the fact that she'd been accused of unspeakable crimes that made him realize just how much had changed. Knowing she'd be safer by his side, they headed back to Wyoming and the life Cassie seemed desperate to leave behind. Unfortunately, danger followed, and now Cody not only had a marriage to protect, but the lives of those who mattered most. Would the trouble bring them closer together–or tear their newfound family apart?
All these months he’d anticipated this moment.
For one interminable moment, he stared into Cassie’s startled sky-blue eyes and couldn’t have felt more winded if a runaway horse had tossed him to the ground and landed on top of him.
But in the end, nothing had prepared him for the almost physical punch in his heart that came with the first glimpse of her face. The creamy skin, the gently arched brows, the too-wide mouth and slightly long nose, attributes that saved her from cuteness and transported her to true beauty.
And then his gaze dipped lower and everything changed forever.
The simple gold band he’d given her three years before still circled her ring finger.
What was new was the bulging belly beneath where her hand rested. She was pregnant.
And not just a little bit.
Westin Family Ties
Alice Sharpe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to my mother, Mary Rose LeVelle.
I will miss you forever.
Many thanks to Kellie Waggener who shared not only her
expertise, but also her passion and excitement for the animals and
lifestyle that define family ranching.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.
Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 755, Brownsville, OR 97327. An SASE for reply is appreciated.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Cody Westin —The oldest of the Westin brothers, he thinks he knows why Cassie left him but he’s in for a surprise. Now he must not only plumb the very depths of his heart to understand himself, but also foil the relentless killer who is after her—and their future.
Cassie Westin —She’s been living in limbo with a broken heart and an explosive secret. Can she can rebuild her marriage—or will her recent past exact an excruciating price on everyone she loves?
Vera Priestly —What does this wealthy, elderly woman really see the night she peers out her window into the dark?
Dennis Garvey —This rebellious teen has plenty of reasons to feel vengeful toward the Westin family. Is he angry enough to target the most vulnerable member for ultimate destruction?
Victoria Banner —Vera’s daughter likes the good life. When that is threatened, she goes on the attack and it doesn’t appear anyone is safe from her wrath.
Emerson Banner —He’s been handling his mother-in-law’s finances for years but she’s on to his cheating ways. How far will he go to protect himself? Who will he destroy in the process?
Robert Banner —After his grandmother’s death, this successful restaurateur begins to implode. Is his grief fueled by family troubles or are there other factors at work?
Donna Cooke —She’s under a lot of stress, but there’s one thing she knows for sure: what’s hers is hers.
Bennie Yates —What part, if any, did he play in the events that resulted in death and destruction?
Kevin Cooke —He disappears the day after a murder. Now it seems he’s everywhere but in plain sight. What is he up to? Can anyone find him before it’s too late?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Late October, Saturday Night
Her new name, spoken in a whisper, woke her from a troubled sleep.
“Laura?”
She glanced at the clock as she reached for the monitor button. Two o’clock. Before she could respond, the voice continued.
“Come quickly. Don’t turn on any lights. Hurry.”
Untangling herself from the rumpled bed sheets, Laura grabbed her robe off the end of the big four-poster, fumbling in the dark.
No lights? Why?
Her employer’s suite was through a connecting door, and Laura took the familiar steps quickly, concern for Mrs. Priestly making her heart race. The old lady wasn’t well, and after the stress of the evening who knew what had happened?
The bed seemed to be empty. Fearing a heart attack or a broken hip, she scanned the Persian carpets. “Mrs. Priestly?”
The responding voice crackled with undercurrents of distress. “Over here, by the window.”
Laura finally made out Mrs. Priestly’s frail shape enveloped in the chair that overlooked the riverside garden at the back of the house. In the daylight hours, the view was one of Mrs. Priestly’s favorites.
But this was the middle of a fall night and not a typical night, either, not even for Idaho. A storm had broken earlier that evening, and all that was visible through the window now were shifting shadows thrown by wind-whipped branches and shrubbery. “You shouldn’t have gotten up without calling for my help,” Laura said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Mrs. Priestly grabbed Laura’s arm. “I think I just witnessed a murder!”
“What! Where?”
The old lady pointed a gnarled finger at the window. “Right out there by the fountain. Can you see a body?”
Laura peered into the night, but the shadows were too deep. “No. Can you?”
Mrs. Priestly craned her neck but finally shook her head. “No, not now.”
“Tell me what happened,” Laura coaxed, hoping the act of talking it out would convince Mrs. Priestly she’d been having a nightmare.
“Well, I just couldn’t sleep. You know when your mind just keeps racing and racing and you wish you’d said this or you hadn’t said that?”
“Oh, yes,” Laura said, kneeling beside the old woman’s chair with some difficulty. “Yes, I know that feeling.”
“Well, I decided I could make it as far as the window without bothering you. You do need your sleep, you know. So I sat here for a while, and then I guess I dozed. I don’t know what woke me, but I swear I saw movement out by the fountain, so I stared harder. It looked like two people. One turned toward the river and took a few steps. I think it was a man.
“The next thing I knew, the other person struck him to the ground, but when I looked again it all seemed to dissolve. That’s when I called you, Laura. I hate to admit on tonight of all nights that I need Victoria and Emerson’s help, but I guess I do. You’ll have to go awaken them.”
Every protective bone in Laura’s body recoiled at the thought of involving Mrs. Priestly’s son-in-law. She’d witnessed Emerson Banner sneering behind Mrs. Priestly’s back more than once before tonight. And then there was the argument she’d overheard after dinner. Mrs. Priestly had been shaking when she finally allowed Laura to help her into bed.
“I have an idea,” Laura hedged. “Before we disturb Mr. Banner or your daughter, let me go outside and make sure you didn’t see a falling tree limb or something else equally ordinary. It’s really stormy out there and the light is tricky.”
“I know what I saw,” Mrs. Priestly insisted, but a second later, doubt crept into her voice as she added, “Would you really do that for me? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“We have to look out for each other, don’t we, dear?”
Laura smiled and gave the old woman an impromptu hug. “You bet we do. I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”
“Just don’t take any chances. You see one little thing out of place and we’ll call the police. Okay?”
“Of course,” Laura agreed, sincerely hoping it didn’t come to that. She grabbed a throw off the bed and tucked it around the old lady’s thin shoulders. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “Don’t move.” She was rewarded with a shaky hand that gripped her arm for a moment.
Laura detoured through her own room to slip on shoes and grab a flashlight, then hurried down the hall. The huge old house was very dark, but thankfully the steep stairs were lit by well-placed lights.
In the kitchen she opened the door leading to the back garden. The outside lights refused to go on—something that had happened a couple of times before since Laura took this job. At least the rain had stopped.
There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind when she made the offer to conduct a search that Mrs. Priestly, still upset from the evening’s altercations, had confused a dream with the images of the stormy night. But now a sense of urgency grew more acute as she hurried down the brick path toward the fountain. She shined the flashlight everywhere as she moved, illuminating the gloom ahead, anxiety raising the hair on her arms and tingling her spine.
The fountain was a huge circular affair that towered over her head. Atop it, a trio of marble fish spouted water. Tonight, the wind caught the water and sprayed it into a fine mist.
Using the flashlight, Laura investigated the fountain and the area around it. There was a broken paver near the base, but it could have been that way for years, as others were cracked and one was even missing. There was no sign of foul play, nor, miraculously considering the weather, any downed branches, though leaves and yard debris flurried across the ground.
The rain started falling again as she looked up at the house, zeroing in on Mrs. Priestly’s dark bedroom window. Big drops splashed against her bare head and face. She moved her search farther afield and checked the gate that opened to the path running along the river, as she could hear it banging against the center post. Impossible to tell how long it had been open—the latch was rusty. Propping the flashlight between her chin and shoulder, she used both hands to tug it closed.
A figure appeared on the path outside, looming in the dark. Hands reached out, grabbed the gate and shook it. Startled, Laura dropped her flashlight to the ground and backed into the yard.
“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice demanded, and a second later a small flashlight flicked on. Its light hit Laura in the eyes, then lowered. “Laura? What are you doing out in this weather? Open the gate at once.”
Laura bent to pick up her flashlight as she placed the voice—Victoria Banner, Mrs. Priestly’s middle-aged daughter. “I’ll hold it open for you,” she said as she fumbled with the lock.
Victoria, swathed in a rain slicker with a hood, came through the gate like royalty. She paused as Laura secured the latch once again. When she spoke, her voice was sharp. “What’s going on?”
Laura wasn’t about to tell the truth, not yet anyway. “I was looking for your mother’s shawl out in the garden when I heard the gate rattling.”
“What would Mother’s shawl be doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“I thought I might have left it outside earlier, before the weather turned. She may need it in the morning.”
“We’re not paying you to be careless. Be sure to lock the kitchen door when you come inside.” And with that she was off, her heels clicking against the stones, the small light she held in front of her disappearing into the gloom.
Victoria Banner wasn’t paying Laura, period; her mother was. Besides, what was she doing out this late? And why had her hands been shaking when she grabbed the gate? Laura shook her head and knew she would never have the answers.
As she was getting wetter and colder by the minute, she forced herself to stop speculating and turned her attention back to the task at hand. She scanned the rain-soaked lawn, searching the grass for a sign someone had been dragged across it or had crawled away.
“Laura?”
This voice came from the back of the house. Now what? She turned her light onto an approaching figure who carried a light of his own, and with some relief she recognized Mrs. Priestly’s grandson, Robert Banner. She’d forgotten he’d come for dinner and stayed to visit with his parents, who also lived in Mrs. Priestly’s mansion, something he did one or two nights a month.
“I saw a light out here when I went to close my window. Then I ran into Mother on the stairs. She said you were out here looking for a shawl. Need help?” He was dressed as she was, in pajamas and a robe the wind whipped around his legs. “You’re very wet,” he added. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
“There actually isn’t a lost shawl,” she admitted. “I lied.” She pushed long strands of wet hair away from her eyes as she told him about what his grandmother thought she’d seen.
