Day Of Reckoning Part 15

"Oh G.o.d," she breathed, tears burning her eyes as she saw her father's name in the first paragraph of the story.

She stumbled back, all the papers slipping from her fingers and fluttering to the floor except for the old article about her father. She balled it up in her hands. She should have listened to that nagging feeling she'd had about Ford. But she'd thought she didn't trust him because he made her feel things she had never felt with any other man. Like hatred, she told herself angrily. Not desire. Dammit, not desire ever again.

She couldn't believe how naive she'd been, she thought as she threw the article about her father across the room. Ford had lied about everything. And she'd just wanted to believe he'd lied about a stupid kiss.

He didn't feel guilty about what he'd done to her father-or to his own. He was only in this for the money. Or the notoriety. Or both.

Hadn't she known deep down inside he wasn't telling her the real reason he was here risking his life? Why he insisted her father be protected? Just to get closer to her. All he wanted was to find the bones-or whatever had put her father in danger.

Oh Roz, you fool, you. She thought about how Ford had been in the shower with her last night, how he'd kissed her. Not once but twice. Tears sprang to her eyes. She thought about how Ford had been in the shower with her last night, how he'd kissed her. Not once but twice. Tears sprang to her eyes. He was just trying to gain your trust, you silly goose. He planned to use you to help him. Don't you remember that look you caught in his eyes at the cafe? He thinks he has you right where he wants you. He was just trying to gain your trust, you silly goose. He planned to use you to help him. Don't you remember that look you caught in his eyes at the cafe? He thinks he has you right where he wants you.

He did, did, she thought. But not anymore. she thought. But not anymore.

She was so angry her first instinct was to wait for him to return and confront him. While that might make her feel better, it wouldn't help her father. No, she had to find the bones, bones her father had mistakenly told Ford about-and she had to do it before Ford did.

Unlike Ford, her father wouldn't have sold the bones to the highest bidder. Nor would she.

As Roz left the guest house and got into her car, she still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Where was Ford? And what did he have planned next for her? She hated to think as she drove out to the highway and headed toward Maple Creek Bridge Road.

She couldn't help glancing in her rearview mirror. How much of what Ford had told her was a lie? Was her father really in danger? Was she? she? Or had everything that had happened been Ford's doing? Or had everything that had happened been Ford's doing?

She thought about the person who'd climbed in her window and went through her suitcase, leaving the window open-and the suitcase a mess-so she'd know he'd been there?

Her heart somersaulted in her chest. Ford hadn't left the chocolates. Drew had. Ford couldn't have known her favorites. And anyway, he'd acted as if he hadn't known that Liam had a daughter. That could have been a lie though, too.

But he could have drugged the chocolates when he climbed in through her window. And he could have pretended to rescue her from the widow's walk. For all she knew, he took her up there.

But why go to so much trouble? Because he needed her to trust him. By making her think she was in danger, she had turned to him. She had played right into his hands.

Oh G.o.d, how far would he go to get what he wanted?

As far as was needed, she thought, remembering the kisses. And the reward for the Bigfoot bones.

At least now she knew. The only person she had to fear was Ford Lancaster.

Chapter Eleven.

When Ford got to the guest house, he couldn't believe Rozalyn hadn't returned given how late he was. After what he'd found in the creek, he had raced back to town, anxious to see her and make sure she was safe.

But how much trouble could she get into since all she had planned was a trip to the hospital and breakfast with her friend?

He opened the guest house door. Had someone come in again? Hadn't the intruder gotten what he'd broken in for the first time?

"Rozalyn?" Ford called.

No answer.

But someone someone had been here. He'd locked the door when he'd left. had been here. He'd locked the door when he'd left.

The moment he opened the bedroom door he saw the papers on the floor and stopped dead. He'd forgotten all about them after he'd discovered the computer disk gone. Then after he'd brought Roz to the guest house he couldn't very well retrieve them without making her suspicious. He'd planned to take care of them this morning and, in his haste to find out what had happened last night at the falls, he'd forgotten.

That mistake would cost him, he realized, as he picked up the papers and spotted a balled up magazine article he'd started about Liam Sawyer. He swore. Rozalyn had been here. She had come back and found the papers he'd stuffed under the laptop computer after the break-in.

Wait a minute. He didn't make a copy of this article, did he? But here was the article he'd started...

He shoved it away. Nothing mattered now but finding Rozalyn.

Ford swore again as he straightened. He had to find her and try to explain. Good luck. Good luck. She knew the truth. Knew what he considered his father's legacy to him. In the end, John Ford Wells had left him more than his name. He'd left him the chance to be not only wealthy-but also famous. That was one h.e.l.l of an inheritance. She knew the truth. Knew what he considered his father's legacy to him. In the end, John Ford Wells had left him more than his name. He'd left him the chance to be not only wealthy-but also famous. That was one h.e.l.l of an inheritance.

But he only got it if he found the Bigfoot bones his father's partner had discovered. Funny the way life was. The only fly in the ointment now was Rozalyn Sawyer.

At least he knew where she'd go. Maple Creek Bridge Road. As crazy as she was she'd try to find out the truth on her own. And as crazy as he was, he'd try to save her again.

He grabbed his backpack, threw what he thought he'd need into it and headed for his pickup. He had to find her and quickly. The fool woman was going to get herself killed.

What about the bones?

Screw the bones. For the time being, Rozalyn mattered more.

That realization made him laugh out loud. The woman had put a spell on him. Like he said, life was funny. How else could he explain falling for Liam Sawyer's daughter?

Obviously his life was cursed.

STILL UPSET with her aunt, Charity stopped by the hospital to find Florie sitting by Liam's bedside. She cringed at the thought of what might happen should Emily drop by to see how her husband was doing. That was a confrontation Charity hoped to avoid. After Charity had talked to Roz, she couldn't get Emily and Lynette Hargrove off her mind so she'd put in a couple more calls and was waiting to hear. Florie had to be wrong. And yet, Charity didn't want to take any chances.

And what was that business about bones? What bothered Charity was her friend's reaction. Roz had turned three shades of white over some old bones in a dirt grave. Odd.

Charity watched her aunt through the hospital room window and decided not to interrupt Florie's visit. She left the flowers she'd brought for Liam with the nurse on duty and headed for the newspaper office in the relentless drizzle, winds.h.i.+eld wipers flapping. Emily-or whatever her name was-was on her own if she came by the hospital while Florie was there.

A block away, a large figure in a dark raincoat stepped off the curb directly in front of her car. She hit her brakes as Wade Dennison slammed down his palms on the front of her VW Bug, his glaring eyes huge with malice.

Charity scrambled to lock her door, but Wade-for his age-moved too d.a.m.ned fast. He jerked open her car door, his face flushed with anger.

"You meddling b.i.t.c.h!" he bellowed.

Behind her, Charity fumbled for the cell phone in her purse, keeping her hand hidden from Wade's view as she hit the On b.u.t.ton, then speed-dialed Mitch's number.

"Listen, Wade-"

"No, you listen to me." Suddenly all the heat went out of him. He seemed to slump against her car, head down, the rain pattering on his raincoat to the sound of...crying?

The unexpected, heart-wrenching sound chased away her fear. She stared at the broken man, suddenly wondering if she could be wrong about him.

"I would never have hurt Angela. Never. I loved her." He looked up, his face wet from the rain, from his tears. "I don't care if she was my daughter by blood. Don't you get it? I love Daisy. She was Daisy's daughter. That's all that ever mattered."

Charity realized now probably wasn't the time to remind him of his words the night Angela disappeared from her crib. But hey, she was a journalist. "You were overheard telling Daisy that you would put her back on the street and take Desiree from her."

His jaw tightened, eyes hard again, and she hoped she wouldn't regret her words. "Those things were said in anger. Daisy knew I would never..." He seemed to lose focus, his head coming up as if he heard something. Or saw something.

Charity followed his gaze and saw a bright red sports car zip by. His daughter, Desiree.

Wade pushed off the car, stumbling back as he turned and walked away, his gait slow and awkward, the movement of a defeated man.

Charity watched him go, stunned by what she'd just seen and heard. Could she be wrong about Wade? But then how did she explain Bud Farnsworth's final moments? It was clear with his dying breath that Bud had been trying to tell Wade something.

She checked her cell phone. She'd reached Mitch's voice mail. She wondered what kind of message she'd left. Mitch wasn't going to like this any better than the newspaper article. She hoped it wouldn't change his mind about that possible marriage proposal he'd started to offer her this morning at Betty's.

ROZ TURNED from the highway onto Maple Creek Bridge Road and followed the narrow, sheltered road until it ended in a small wide spot.

She was glad to see there were no other vehicles parked at the end of the road. But as she looked around, she wondered where her dad's truck and camper were. How odd that the pickup hadn't turned up. Was it possible someone had stolen it? Or dropped him off? Then where were the pickup and camper? More to the point, where was that person and how come he or she hadn't come forward yet?

She realized it was possible her father had hidden his truck and camper-just as he might have hidden the bones he'd found. It didn't sound like him. Liam wasn't one to hide things, to deceive. And because of that, she doubted he would realize the danger of his discovery until it was too late.

With a start, she wondered if someone had moved the truck, hidden it-after that person had pushed her father from the cliff so no one would be looking for him here?

She got out of her SUV, loaded her backpack and tied on her tent and sleeping bag. She considered leaving her camera behind, but realized if she found any proof she'd need it to verify the find. Like her father, she never went anywhere without her camera. She wondered if he'd gotten his discovery on film and where his camera was now. His backpack wasn't at the hospital. That was odd if he'd fallen or even been pushed off a cliff. He would have had it on.

She put enough energy bars and drinking water into her pack to last her a couple of days. She would stay in the mountains tonight, a place where she felt safer than at the house with all its memories and the strange new family. She wasn't taking any chances that she might end up on that widow's walk again.

And she would be a whole lot safer out in the woods than at the guest house with Ford Lancaster, she thought, remembering the kiss and the emotions it stirred in her. And to think she'd been afraid of lowering her defenses around him. What a joke! He hadn't needed to scale the castle walls-she'd dropped the drawbridge.

She shook her head at the memory, pretty sure she really had lost her mind. Because even knowing what a louse he was, she couldn't help remembering the kisses and the feelings and aching for both. Fool woman. Fool woman.

She clipped the can of pepper spray to her belt-not so much for a bear encounter as a human one. If anything Ford Lancaster had told her were true, she would be in danger until the bones were secure.

And she now believed her father had found bones. She could just hear Ford if she told him she started believing it when a psychic saw her father-and bones. Ford would have a field day with that.

But what were the chances that Florie would see bones in the tarot cards?

Roz glanced behind her as she swung her backpack over her shoulder, feeling as if she was being followed. But there was no one in the small clearing and it was impossible to see into the thick growth beyond it. Nor had she heard or seen another vehicle on the highway.

She'd noticed that the vacancy sign was back up at the Ho Hum Motel. The Bigfoot hunters were leaving town, giving up since there hadn't been a sighting for several weeks now. Bigfoot sightings this time of year weren't unusual in this area. The theory was that the snow in the higher elevations pushed the elusive creatures down to the rainy areas like Timber Falls.

The Bigfoot sightings had something else in common: they were all on mountain ranges in rugged isolated country. The country beyond this road was unmapped, unexplored and inaccessible except on foot, and there were hundreds of square miles of it.

On this side of the Oregon Cascades a lot of the country wasn't even accessible on foot because of the dense foliage, steep mountain cliffs and numerous waterfalls, streams, lakes and bogs. It was the perfect place for a creature to live and avoid man.

Roz looked up at the rock rims about halfway up the mountain and s.h.i.+vered. That's the area where her father must have been. Whatever he'd discovered had to be fairly close around there, she would think.

She knew she would have to find the bones before Ford Lancaster-and whoever else knew about them. She had no doubt that either would try to stop her.

The moment she stepped from the small clearing where she'd left her SUV, she disappeared into the dark coniferous forest.

She wasn't surprised so few people had ever seen what they believed to be a Bigfoot-like creature. Another life-form could live just yards off the road and remain unseen especially if, as suspected, the creature was nomadic, rare in numbers and knew to avoid man whenever possible.

As she walked, she couldn't shake the feeling though that she wasn't alone. She looked behind her but saw nothing except a dense wall of trees and underbrush. As far as she could tell, there wasn't another human being for miles.

A short way up the trail, she crossed a moss-covered log spanning a gus.h.i.+ng stream. The water roared in her ears, reminding her of Lost Creek Falls and what she'd witnessed last night. She wondered if Mitch had found anything. Or if there had been anything to find.

She walked, concentrating on the narrow game trail through the jungle. At one point, she tripped over one of the tree roots that grew across the path and almost fell. Resting her hand against a tree trunk, she tried to catch her breath. Her chest ached and she felt tears burn her eyes.

A limb snapped off to her right. She froze, listening. She couldn't see anything in the thick vegetation nor back down the trail behind her. She started walking again. A little faster. By now Ford would know she wasn't meeting him at the guest house.

Morning gave way to afternoon as she headed for the band of rocks, stopping only to take a drink or catch her breath.

"Where had you been, Dad?" she said out loud as she looked up through the rain and mist at the steep rock cliffs over the tops of the trees.

She wondered about his state of mind before the fall and realized she didn't have a clue as to what her father might have been thinking. He'd married Emily, hadn't he? That alone made her wonder if she still knew her father at all.

CHARITY WAS STILL shaken by her run-in with Wade Dennison. She parked in front of her newspaper office and sat in her VW bug for a few minutes, trying to collect herself. As much as she suspected Wade was a murderer, she hated seeing him the way he'd been on the street.

Worse, he'd made her wonder if she could be wrong about him. Sure, he would deny everything, especially now when it appeared his house of cards was coming down. But there'd been a ring of truth in his words. And Charity knew the power of love. If Wade really had loved Daisy enough to accept not only her affair but possibly the child from that affair- The pa.s.senger side door of her car jerked open and, in a flurry of rain and wind, Sheriff Mitch Tanner slid into the seat next to her.

Charity tried to still her beating heart, this time from being startled out of her wits on the tail of her run-in with Wade. "Hey," she said with less than her usual enthusiasm.

"Are you all right?" Mitch asked, picking up on it.

She told him about her recent encounter with Wade.

"He sounds like he might be losing it," Mitch said when she'd finished. "That could make him even more dangerous."

"I felt sorry for him," she admitted.

"Just don't let your guard down around him, all right? And try not to find yourself alone with him."

She smiled at Mitch's concern. "No dark alleys?"

"Stay away from Dennison Ducks."

He was asking her to back off from her investigation. It was like asking her not to breathe and he had to know that.