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“What idea?” Annie asked.
“We were going to put our clothes on the dog and surprise you.”
As Alex explained, Chopper, the aging black Lab, came hobbling out from behind the toy box, his foot caught up in the arm of a sweater. He sported socks and shoes on three of his four feet. His tail, which he wagged pitifully, protruded from the fly of some small body’s—obviously Alex’s—underpants. Chopper looked absolutely miserable.
Try as she might, Annie could not hold back the giggles. Screaming with delight, the boys joined in, doing a little jig that had their skinny little bodies flailing and leaping.
“Why on earth did you think to put clothes on poor Chopper?”
“No shirts, no shoes, no service,” Noah offered.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Annie looked back and forth between the two faces, mirror images of hers, both earnest in their explanation.
“We wanted Chopper to come out to lunch with us—”
“—and he couldn’t go if he was naked—”
“—cause Emma says the sign in the window says—”
Annie held up her hand. “Okay. I get it. But you guys need to know that they don’t serve dogs at the Mi-T-Fine Café. Even well-dressed dogs, like Chopper, here.”
Alex’s face fell. “Never?”
“Never?” Noah echoed.
“Nope.” She gestured to the dog. “And since they don’t serve naked kids either, put this poor animal out of his misery and you two get dressed.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll give you five minutes. If you’re not ready, I’m going without you. And I’m ordering hot dogs.”
“Hot dogs!” the boys shouted with glee and in record time were ready for lunch on the town—or at least at the restaurant next door—with Mom.
Over the glass entrance doors of the Mi-T-Fine Caféin Keyhole, Wyoming, an electronic chime announced Wyatt’s arrival. The restaurant was doing a healthy business and no one in particular looked up to see who’d come in. From inside the kitchen a wonderfully familiar female voice called, “Take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
It was Emily. She sounded safe and healthy, anyway. That was a good sign. Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief.
“Take your time. I’m in no hurry,” he called and wandered to an empty booth in the front of the restaurant near a bank of windows that overlooked the quaint main street.
Keyhole was a Mecca for tourists on their way to or from Yellowstone National Park. Nestled in a lush valley, surrounded by spectacular, majestic mountains, the little town ingeniously mixed the new and the old to create a trendy, upbeat feel. Keyhole was known to antique hunters all over the country for its delightful painted lady Victorians, western facade buildings and the historic treasures they held within.
Skiers—both water and snow—hikers, climbers, wind-surfers, hunters and fishermen enjoyed the sports offered by the great outdoors. All around the perimeter of town, hotels were popping up as Keyhole became a mini-Aspen. It wasn’t unusual to see celebrities shopping or skiing in Keyhole anymore. Luckily, growth was relatively slow and Keyhole had managed to maintain its small-town flavor.
Wyatt could see why Annie loved this town. Like Prosperino, it was a bit of heaven on earth.
He plucked a menu from between the sugar container and the salt-and-pepper shakers and studied the special that was clipped to the cover.
At the other side of the café, Annie shushed her rowdy boys and, cocking her head, listened for the mellow baritone again, to no avail.
“No,” she whispered. “Couldn’t be.” Craning her head, she searched the aisle and tried to peer over the high-backed booths and the partitions that blocked her view of the front of the room.
That voice.
Just the sound of it unleashed a plethora of emotion within her, both good and bad. Annie shrugged off the crazy notion as her boys distracted her, wrestling over crayons. Must be someone who sounded incredibly like him, she thought and rubbed the gooseflesh that had risen on her arms.
“Alex, eat the bun too.”
“But I’m saving it for Chopper.”
Annie threw her hands up. Where Chopper was concerned it was impossible to reason with her boys. “Fine. But don’t put it in your shirt pocket. You’re getting mustard everywhere.”
“Okay.” Alex removed the mustard-slathered bread and slapped it into her hand. “Here. Could you put this in your purse?”
Annie exhaled mightily and searched the ceiling for patience. Her crisp white blouse now sported yellow polka-dots in various shapes and sizes. Dabbing at them with a napkin only made them worse.
From inside the kitchen, Emily recognized the familiar voice and openmouthed, flew to the pickup window and craned her neck to catch a glimpse. Wyatt! After seven solid months on the lam, to finally see a member of her family was overwhelming. She blinked back the tears of joy. Help had arrived at last and now, perhaps, someone might just take her seriously.
Reaching behind her, she untied her apron and waved at Roy who was busy over the sizzling grill. Helen was making coffee and Geraldine was out on the floor. They’d be fine without her for a few minutes. “I’m taking a break,” she called and they nodded.
Emily rushed through the restaurant as old fashioned as its name implied. The walls were a rough plank and overhead, shelves were loaded with historic knickknacks and plants. In the background, some easy listening was piped in through speakers in the ceiling. The murmur of voices ebbed and flowed, and underscoring it all, silverware clanked and the grill sizzled.
Wyatt glanced up at the sound of her approach. “Emily!” He held out his hand and pulled her into the booth beside him and gave her temple a sound kissing. Eyes thirsty, he drank in the sight of her, checking her over until he was satisfied that she was all right. He reached up, touching her shock of chestnut-red hair and was once again reminded of his Annie.
Emily plucked a napkin from the chrome dispenser on the table and crushed it to her mouth. “How did you find me?”
“Rand and Austin tracked you down.”
“I would have called, but it’s not safe.”
“I know.”
“You do?” She pushed her napkin to her eyes and cast him a watery smile. “You believe me?”
“We all do.”
“Oh,” she blubbered. “Finally.”
“Better late than never?”
“Oh, yeah.” Smile tremulous, she turned her back to the aisle. Facing him, she leaned on her elbow to create some privacy. “I don’t have much time. This is the middle of the Saturday lunch rush and it can get a little hairy here.”
“That’s fine,” Wyatt said with a nod. “We can talk later. I plan on staying for several days—”
“Really?” Emily heaved a ragged sigh. “I’ve been starved for news of home.”
“Well, I’m loaded with that, and more.” He tapped the envelope that lay in front of him on the table, then slid it over to rest in front of her.
Emily stared. “What’s this?”
“The news you’ve been waiting for. It’ll make some interesting nighttime reading, that I can guarantee.”
“It’s about Mom?”
“And her identical twin sister. A woman named Patsy Portman.”
“A twin. I knew it,” she murmured.
“We’re guessing that you were right all along about Patsy taking Meredith’s place.”
“It happened the day of the accident. I just know it. Remember when Mom went off the road and wrecked the car?”
“Emily, do you have any idea what may have happened to Meredith?”
“I can’t remember,” she whispered. “It happened so fast, and it’s years ago now. I was crying and confused. My head hurt and Mom’s head was bleeding so much. I think I passed out. What I do remember is seeing another woman there who looked exactly like Mom. Then, I don’t remember anything until she brought me into the emergency room. I couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t bleeding anymore…”
Wyatt slowly nodded. “Meredith must have disappeared between the accident and the emergency room, while you were unconscious.”
Snatching another napkin from the dispenser, Emily scrubbed at her nose. “Mmm. That’s what I’ve always suspected. But no one believed me until now.”
“We believe you, honey. We’re on your side and we’re here to help you.”
“What about Mom?”
Wyatt slipped an arm around her shoulders and brought the top of her head to his neck. “We’re working on that. Austin’s on her trail, as we speak.” He tried to inject a note of confidence into his voice. “What exactly happened the night you left?”
In a halting voice, Emily spoke. “Someone tried to kill me. And, he nearly succeeded.”
Three
Wyatt drew a long, slow breath. Hearing the brutal truth had the bile rising into his throat. “I could use some fresh air. How about you?”
Emily peeked up at the counter. Geraldine and Helen were still busy with customers and no one new had come in since she’d sat down. “Yes. I think that would be okay. If we don’t stay long.” She tucked into her apron pocket the envelope that Wyatt had brought, then waved her hand at the counter. “Geraldine?”
“Yes, honey?” Geraldine took in the tear streaks on Emily’s cheeks and frowned at Wyatt.
“I’m just gonna take a quick break. You guys okay without me?”
Geraldine glanced around, then returned her suspicious gaze to Wyatt. “For a few minutes, sure.”
“I’ll have her back pronto,” Wyatt assured her. “Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.”
Geraldine looked skeptical.
The doorbell chimed again as Wyatt held the door for Emily.
“Noah! Alex!” Annie strained to hear above the hubbub of her children’s voices. “Pipe down for just a second, will you?”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Because I’m trying to hear something,” Annie snapped, flapping her hands and making lip-zipping motions.
Noah found her wild gesticulations most amusing and howled with laughter.
“Whater ya trying to hear?” Alex pressed.
Annie pressed her nose to the window and tried to see around front.
Noah tapped her arm. “Whatcha see?”
Her exasperated sigh fogged the pane of glass. “Nothing.”
Wyatt took Emily’s hand and led her to a bench on the wooden sidewalk just outside Summer’s Autumn Antiques. He pulled her down beside him and once again, slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“Someone tried to kill you.”
Emily’s head bobbed beneath his chin.
Sick at heart, Wyatt pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I know it’s probably pretty hard to talk about, but the more you can tell me, the more we can help.”
Emily glanced around. When she was satisfied that no one was listening, she continued. “I was on my way to bed when I noticed that my bedroom door was nearly closed. You remember how Dad would never let us kids close our doors until we were in bed? Even so, normally, I’d have just thought Inez made a mistake, but because of what had just happened at Dad’s birthday party a few months earlier I was still a little wary.”
“Mmm.”
Wyatt knew all about the attempt on Joe’s life. That night, Rand had called from the party, shaken. “Dad made a speech. There was a lot of confusion,” Rand had told him. “Balloons, confetti, sixty white doves flying everywhere. Then, Dad lifted his glass, and there was a shot. His glass shattered…I was stunned. We all were. Then people started to scream. At first we thought…we thought he might be dead, but thank God, the bullet only grazed his cheek. Nobody else was hurt. Dad grabbed Mom’s hand and pulled her to the ground for cover…” That night, Rand’s emotion-packed words had Wyatt’s skin crawling. Just as it was now. It was ironic, Wyatt mused, how Joe may have saved the life of the very person who wanted him dead.
Emily’s shaky voice brought him back to the present. “I tiptoed in my room and before I saw him I knew I was not alone. Someone was there with me and I was scared, thinking that whoever it was had come back for Dad.”
From his hip pocket, Wyatt retrieved a handkerchief and, tipping her chin, dabbed at the tears that ran down her cheeks. Several passersby cast her a curious look.
“Wait until you’re ready, sweetheart,” Wyatt said. “In fact, if this is too painful, you can tell me another time.”
“No!” Emily gave her head a vehement shake. “I’ve been waiting to talk about this for months now. I want to tell you. It’s just…hard.”
“I know.”
“Anyway once my eyes adjusted, I could see a man—a stranger—hiding behind the drapes, near the bed. And, Wyatt, he had a knife.”
Emily looked up at Wyatt and he gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“I thought I was going to faint, but somehow I managed to stumble down the stairs and out the front door. He—” Emily swallowed “—he followed me.” Wyatt closed his eyes. “What’d you do?”
“Kept running until I remembered the alcove where Liza and I would play when we were kids. The entrance is easy to miss if you don’t know it’s there.”
Wyatt was filled with brotherly admiration. “Wow. Quick thinking saved your life.”
“It was instinct. Oh, Wyatt, I’ve never been so scared in my life. I hid in the alcove until sun up. All I could think to do was hide. Somewhere. Anywhere.
“After a while, this really nice older trucker picked me up and told me he was headed to Wyoming. Wyatt, it seemed like a sign. Dad had been harbored here, back when he was a little boy and the McGraths fostered him. So, I climbed into his truck, and here I am.”
Wyatt gestured down the street. “The McGrath farm where Dad grew up in Nettle Creek is only a few miles from here.”
Emily’s smile was wan. “I know.”
