Westin Family Ties

Chapter Two

Cody arrived in Cherrydell too late to do anything more than drive through a relatively small community built on a river. The downtown area was old but gave the impression it might have become something of a tourist destination with restaurants, boutiques and salons dotting the streets. He made his way to the house where Cassie had apparently spent the past few weeks.

Towering and dark, surrounded by huge trees, the gingerbread Victorian nestled on what appeared to be a half acre of fenced property right on the edge of a river. The rest of the neighborhood was equally scenic, though none of the surrounding houses had such large lots or were half as big.

He drove past twice, wondering if Cassie was in there, wishing it wasn’t too late to ring the bell. For a second or two he thought about rousing the household anyway, demanding to see his wife, but he knew he wouldn’t do it. Showing up on Cassie’s doorstep was going to catch her off guard and no doubt create a scene. Stuff like that was best left for the light of day.

He found himself a motel room a few blocks away and tried reading, but it was no good; the words of the novel barely imprinted themselves on his brain. He finally turned off the light, but then he found himself checking the glowing numbers on the bedside clock every few minutes.

Why hadn’t Cassie checked in with Emma Kruger? The obvious answer was Cassie’s cousin Lisa got wind a detective was asking questions about her. Lisa could have alerted Cassie directly before leaving for South America. If that happened, Cassie would already be gone and he’d be too late.

He awoke at eleven the next morning and bolted out of bed like a horse with a burr under its saddle, appalled he’d overslept on this of all mornings. He took a shower and put on clean clothes while drinking a cup of the coffee he made in his own room. The motel coffee made the stuff he brewed in a pan over a campfire taste like gourmet.

He paused as he picked up the small black box that he’d been carrying in his pocket. Popping open the lid, he studied the contents for a moment, then snapped the lid shut. Leaving it on the dresser, he went back for it at the last moment and slipped it in with his loose change. It wasn’t a bribe, it was a promise. All he had to do was find Cassie.

Back in the truck, he drove to the house again.

What a difference a few hours made.

The driveway and street on both sides were now jammed with cars. A few people could be seen standing out on the large porch—they appeared to be smokers relegated to the chill of October to feed their habit.

Cody found a parking spot a few blocks away and walked back to the house. He looked the place over as he threaded his way between the parked cars in the driveway. It had to cost a fortune to keep a mansion like this one operating, but there were signs maintenance had slipped. The house needed painting, for instance. Plants had overgrown the landscaper’s original vision and weeds grew in the sidewalk cracks.

There were two smokers on the front porch and they both nodded at him. As he climbed the short flight of stairs, the front door opened and a woman and man came out. The man held the door open for Cody so Cody decided to go with the flow.

The inside of the house gave the same impression as the outside: elegance and expense slightly worn around the edges. The foyer was crowded with people dressed in dark colors, all holding something to eat or drink, all ignoring him after a cursory glance. By the preponderance of dark clothes and hushed conversations, Cody thought it pretty likely somebody had died.

The motel coffee burned his gut like cheap whiskey. Please don’t let it be Cassie. Anything but that. He chose a man standing alone to sidle up to. “Excuse me. Do you know—”

“Emerson and Victoria are in the parlor,” the man said, moving off to talk to a woman who had motioned to him. Cody had no idea who Emerson and Victoria might be, but guessing they were connected with this house in some way, he moved in the indicated direction, entering another equally crowded room.

Through the sea of bodies, he spotted an athletic-looking middle-aged woman seated on a brocaded sofa, her graying hair falling softly over her forehead. She was surrounded by other women, one of whom patted her hand. A man of about the same vintage stood off by a window, alone.

There was something about the two that linked them in Cody’s mind, a certain air of aloofness mixed with privilege. They were extremely well-dressed in tailored dark suits, their grooming beyond reproach. Both looked like they spent a lot of time on a tennis court or golf course.

A uniformed woman wearing an apron and carrying a tray, asked if he would like a canapé and started naming the offerings in a broad Cockney accent.

“No thanks,” he interrupted, adding quickly, “Do you know the woman who owns this house? Her name is Vera Priestly.”

“Know her? Oh, you mean, did I know her,” she said. “I worked for her for five years, now, didn’t I? It’s shocking what happened to her.”

“What exactly happened?” he asked.

She cocked her head to one side as her voice fell to an ominous hush. “You don’t know? Oh, now, mister, it’s terrible. Mrs. Priestly weren’t all fur coats and no knickers, if you take my meaning. She was a lady through and through. You ask me it was that new girl who took over for me. Run me out of a posh job, she did, and her being all—”

“Bridget? I think some of our other guests may need attention,” the man Cody had noticed by the window said. He’d approached so quietly he caught both the maid and Cody off guard. The maid immediately dipped her head and scurried off. The man looked down his patrician nose at Cody, which wasn’t easy as Cody was easily five or six inches taller. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you,” he said. “I’m Emerson Banner. Exactly how did you know my mother-in-law?”

Up close, Banner’s face was crisscrossed with fine lines, his eyes were a pale, icy blue and his chin was slightly receded. He was the kind of man that raised Cody’s hackles.

“I didn’t know her,” Cody said, taking off his hat. He’d completely forgotten he had it on. “I just heard she passed away. I know this is a terrible time to bother you, but I’ve traveled a distance. I’m looking for my wife. Her name is Cassie—Cassandra, sometimes. I was told she was employed here to help care for an elderly lady named Vera Priestly. If Mrs. Priestly died recently then it figures Cassie will be out of work.” He’d been digging in his wallet as he spoke and offered a photograph of Cassie taken the year before.

Emerson Banner glanced at it, did a double take, then glared at Cody. The old saying If looks could kill… flashed through Cody’s mind.

“I think you’d better leave,” Banner said, his voice as cold as Rocky Mountain snow. He tossed a surreptitious glance at the woman on the couch. Her gaze met his and she furrowed her brow.

“I’ll be happy to go,” Cody said. “Lord knows I’m needed in Wyoming a lot more than I’m needed here. Just tell me where Cassie is.”

Banner’s voice took on a vicious undertone. “Have you no decency?” he hissed. “This is Vera’s wake, of all things, and you have the audacity to barge in here.” He grabbed Cody’s elbow and maneuvered him through the crowd.

A younger guy with a pleasant smile intercepted them. “Dad? Is there a problem?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, Robert. Do me a favor and find your sister. Have her go sit with your mother, okay?” The next thing Cody knew, he was ushered out the front door.

While he couldn’t begin to fathom what had brought on this reaction, he hadn’t put up a fuss because people inside were grieving. But the front porch was empty now and he’d had about enough. He tore his arm away from Banner’s grip and stared down at the older man.

“Where in the hell is my wife, and don’t bother saying you don’t know her because it’s obvious you do. What’s going on?”

Banner straightened his shoulders. “The woman you claim is your wife presented herself to us as Laura Green. I was very much against hiring her as Vera’s caregiver. The girl was not bonded nor did she have experience or references, but Vera could dig in her heels when she wanted and she was determined to help this girl out. She’d heard about her from a friend of a friend—your typical hard-luck story. Totally inappropriate.

“It turns out my suspicions of her were right on the money. We caught Laura or Cassie or whoever she is trying to run off with my mother-in-law’s jewelry yesterday. And today we find there are several additional pieces missing. Who knows how much is gone? The police—”

“Where is Cassie?” Cody interrupted.

“She took off in a cab that dropped her at a bus station. No one saw her after that, but trust me, the police are looking.”

Cody couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“And not just for theft,” Banner added with a tight little satisfied smile.

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Vera altered her will right before she was killed,” Banner said. “She bequeathed one-fourth of her assets, which amounts to over a million dollars, to your wife. She even included a phrase that covered the fact your wife was using an assumed name. If any of the others contest it, they lose their share. How do you imagine that came about?”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“No it doesn’t. And that was just hours before someone broke into Vera’s room in the middle of the night and smothered her during a robbery attempt. For all I know, you were part of it, too.”

“Listen, mister,” Cody said, stepping close and lowering his voice. “There’s such a thing as slander, you know. Unless you have proof, you’d better watch your mouth. You said my wife was caught stealing jewelry? If she knew she was inheriting money, why would she bother? You don’t make any sense. I can’t believe we’re even talking about the same woman.”

“Though there are obvious differences now, as I’m sure you’re aware, the woman in the photo you carry and the woman calling herself Laura Green are either identical twins or the same person. I am not mistaken. Now, please leave before I call the police. On second thought, that’s not a bad idea. What did you say your last name is?”

“I didn’t,” Cody said. He pulled on his hat and turned. Behind him, he heard the door open and close. Banner was gone.

The guy was calling the cops? This Laura Green had to be some other woman, someone else who stole Cassie’s identity in a more subtle way than using her credit cards and flashing her driver’s license. And that meant Cassie’s fate was still unknown.

He took a deep breath, unsure what to do now. Go home? Wait for the cops to arrive and see if they knew something? Cassie’s fingerprints would be in the house if she’d been here…

Across the street and down at the corner, he caught sight of a woman in the process of turning away from him. Because of all the cars parked on the street, all he could see of her was from the shoulders up, but there was something about what he saw that spoke directly to him. Maybe it was the glisten of her gold hair in the weak autumn light. Maybe it was a glimpse of her profile his conscious mind had barely registered. Something.

He hurried down the stairs and the driveway, then had to wait for a line of cars to pass by on the street. By the time he got to the point on the opposite sidewalk where he’d seen the woman, she was gone.

He began walking in the direction he thought she’d taken. What had she been wearing? What color? He closed his eyes as he walked, trying to picture—

Blue. She’d been wearing something blue, up by her face, at least. A scarf, a collar, a jacket…

He was traversing a residential neighborhood filled with stately homes set back from the sidewalk. The leaves were turning, asters and dahlias were blooming. There were cars here and there, but few people.

After a very long block, the road hit an intersection and he was given a choice of three directions. He peered down each street. Two old people walked a poodle down one, the other was empty, and on the third a figure walked away from him at a pretty good pace.

He went in that direction. It was a woman, he could tell that much, and there might be something blue around her neck. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get that far ahead of him.

What was he doing? Why would Cassie have come back to that house after the accusations that must have been thrown right in her face? Banner said she went to the bus station. The chances the woman up ahead was actually Cassie were astronomical and yet he kept walking, forcing himself not to rush her, knowing such an action would spook any woman no matter who she was. And the only thing he knew for sure was he had to know the identity of this woman.

She turned left at the next corner. He waited until he was sure she couldn’t turn and see him, then ran to make it to the corner before she disappeared.

Too late. She was gone.

He walked fast now, looking closely at each house in turn. Still, he almost missed the door closing at the top of a flight of stairs that led to what appeared to be an apartment built over a detached garage. As he stood there, the drapes closed over a window.

The house that occupied the same property had an Apartment for Rent sign in its window. He walked up the path and knocked. The door was opened almost at once by an older man carrying a stack of books and a big set of keys.

“I’m here about the rental,” Cody said.

The man handed him the keys as he stepped outside. “My hands are full, so help me out. Take the blue one off the loop and give yourself a tour, okay? It’s the back unit I’m renting. You get a real nice view of the alley. I rented the front one to a little gal yesterday. You’re welcome to look at the place, only don’t bother my new tenant. When you’re done, slip the key in the mail slot here by my door. If you’re interested, my number is on the sign, call me this afternoon. No, wait, today it’s my turn to work at the library until closing time. Better call me tomorrow or drop by the library if you want. Ask for Stew. I’m running late.”

This was all said as Cody worked the blue key free. “Thanks,” he said, handing back the other keys.

“No problem.” The man hit the electronic button on his ring and the garage door rolled up. The garage itself looked huge, split into two sections. One side was laid out as a woodworking shop with a lot of nice equipment, a long workbench along the outside wall, and a heater for the cold winter months. The other side sheltered a vehicle. The man threw the books into the backseat of a vintage 1957 Chevy and took off, the garage door rolling closed after him.

Cody had no intention of touring the back apartment. He found the mail slot and slipped the key through the opening where it clinked as it landed inside the house.

He’d intended to show the homeowner Cassie’s photo, but it had all happened too fast; the fact that a lone woman had rented the place the day before fit. There was only one way to make sure, of course, so taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for another heaping dose of disappointment and walked toward the garage.

The stairs were pretty steep and ran against the side of the garage up to a landing. At the top of the stairs, you could either stop at the door of the front unit, or keep moving away from the street toward the unit in the back.

There was no peephole in the door, which meant whoever lived here had no way of knowing who was knocking. He rapped a few times and all but stopped breathing.

And as he waited he thought of the accusations Emerson Banner had leveled at Cassie. Lying, manipulating, stealing, murder. It was absolutely impossible to imagine Cassie doing any of that.

So, if the woman he hoped was his wife was actually someone else, was he about to come face to face with a murderer? And if it was Cassie? Had she changed so much she was capable of these terrible things?

His heart jammed in his throat as he heard footsteps sound inside. “Who is it?” a woman’s voice called. Impossible to tell whose voice, but the underlying tension rang out clear.

He mumbled, “Landlord,” and in that moment a jolt of doubt hit him so hard it was all he could do not to reach out and grab something for support.

What was he doing here? Why had he pursued her? She’d obviously left him behind, and yet he’d moved a piece of heaven and a whole lot of earth to find her while all the while she’d known exactly where he was. She could have come home if that was what she’d wanted.

Or could she have? Had he slammed the door that firmly in her face?

The door opened, catching on a chain after two inches, and he didn’t know who he hoped would peer out and see him. A stranger or his wife or maybe a murderer. Or maybe a woman who had managed to become all three?

The chain slid away and the door opened wider.

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. All these months he’d anticipated this moment.

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.

Chapter Three

“Cody,” Cassie said softly.

Her heart had been beating fast when she heard the knock: for the past twenty-four hours, she’d been expecting the police.

Instead, Cody.

There wasn’t a thing about him she didn’t know by heart. Not the way one eyebrow tended to lift when he spoke, not the exact shape of his lips or the dark brown of his eyes.

And not the shock that flashed in those eyes as he took in her changed appearance and began processing what it meant.

This was the moment she had tried so hard to avoid, the moment she’d had nightmares about. The moment when he saw her condition and undoubtedly leapt to one conclusion.

She cleared her throat. “How did you find me?”

“I saw you across the street from the Priestly house,” he said after a moment. “I…I followed you.”

She looked behind him toward the street. “Did anyone else see me?”

“I don’t think so. You didn’t call Emma Kruger when you said you would. She got worried.” His gaze once again dipped to Cassie’s protruding belly and the silence between them stretched tight. “Cassie? Can I come in?”

Cassie. Not Laura, not anymore. “Yes, of course,” she said. As she stepped aside, she once again scanned the empty street before hastily closing the door and turning back into the room. And then her gaze met Cody’s again.

She’d wondered, of course. How would she feel when she saw him again? Would the magic between them be gone, a victim of their fight? She folded her fingers into her palm as she steeled herself for what came next.

But why, why hadn’t she dressed nicer that morning? Why hadn’t she washed her hair or stuck on some lipstick? For something to do, she took the blue scarf from around her neck and looped it through the strap on her oversized hobo bag, her fingers trembling.

He finally cleared his throat. “When is the baby due?”

“A little over a month.”

His voice grew hesitant. “Is it…mine?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about it when you left?”

“You mean did I know I was pregnant when I told you it was time we start our family? No, I didn’t know.”

He swore softly, took off his hat and looked around the apartment. She knew what he saw. The place was a furnished dump, there were no two ways about it, but she’d arrived the day before in a panic and all she’d wanted was a refuge, no questions asked, four walls and a locked door.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, turning his steady gaze on her again.

How many times over the past few months had she scanned the faces of strangers, looking for him, wondering if he’d followed her, half-hoping he hadn’t, half-hoping he had? No one else looked like Cody Westin, though, not even his brothers, Adam and Pierce. There were family resemblances, to be sure, but Cody was the one a woman’s eyes strayed to. The perfectly balanced strong body, wide shoulders and clear-cut features all added up to a great-looking package, but it was something else, too, some sense of reserve and privacy about him that made a lot of women, women like her, melt inside.

Face it; he was so masculine it confused her. In fact at times during their marriage they had seemed like foreigners thrown together on the stagecoach of life, seeing each other, touching, but not speaking the same language.

“Do you know the police are looking for you?” Cody asked.

Her heartbeat doubled as her hands clenched at her sides. “I wasn’t sure. I guess it doesn’t surprise me. How do you know?”

“I spoke with Emerson Banner.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. “Did you tell him your name? Did you tell him mine?”

“Just our first names. He claims you had something to do with his mother-in-law’s death.”

Talking about Emerson Banner made the hairs rise on Cassie’s arms. “He’s a greedy, nasty man,” she said with a shudder. Those cold eyes of his had drilled into hers too many times for comfort. “His wife isn’t any better. They know I wouldn’t harm Mrs. Priestly. She was so kind to me. Did he tell you how worried she was the last few days of her life? Maybe I should have done things differently, I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure it out.”

The tears that welled in her eyes were unwelcome reminders of the stress that had been building since that night when Mrs. Priestly had sent Cassie to check out the garden. It had culminated two days later when she went to awaken the elderly woman and found her window open, a pillow over her face and signs of a weak struggle before she lost her life. The monitor had been disabled. Cassie had slept ten feet away in the adjoining room while Mrs. Priestly died.

“Banner also told me they caught you trying to steal jewelry,” he added.