“TRUST ME,”
Colin said.
“Trust you? How can I? I saw the way you looked at that newspaper. You have some crazy idea of solving your grandfather’s murder. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t bother to deny it.” Della met his gaze squarely as she moved out of his arms. “I recognize a man with a purpose when I see one.”
“I have to know what kind of man Shawn Delaney was. Why he was murdered. If I understand, perhaps I can lay some demons to rest.”
“Or be killed yourself.”
He gave a dismissing wave of his hand. “Not possible. I didn’t live in my great-grandfather’s day.”
With a tremor in her voice, she corrected him. “You do now.”
Dear Reader,
I am delighted that Twist in Time has been chosen for the Timetwist reissue program. I have always loved the magic of time travel, and I especially love the added dimension it gives to love stories and mysteries.
I placed my characters in the exciting and rowdy past of old-time Denver, and my research led me to an authentic frontier hotel that provided the elements I needed to carry out my story of love and murder.
Writing this book was a pleasure, and my hope is that each reader will find it an exciting page-turner.
Happy reading,
A Twist in Time
Lee Karr
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
D ella Arnell crossed her arms and shivered as she looked out the window of the old hotel she’d recently bought for renovation. Despite an expensive new heating system, a chill remained in the high-ceilinged rooms and lobby of the historic building. In the darkness of rain and shadow, streetlights stood like lonely sentinels along the sidewalks of lower downtown Denver.
Staring out, she tried to focus beyond the streams of water assaulting the windowpane. She could barely make out a vacant lot and an old warehouse across the street. Most of the buildings on the famous “Row,” Denver’s 1880s red-light district, were being torn down or renovated. In the steady downpour of black rain, the street was without any sign of life. She was about to turn away, when a hand and face suddenly pressed against the glass at eye level. She cried out and jerked back.
The shadowy face disappeared and in the next moment there was pounding on the front door. “Let me in, Della.”
Above the noise of the rain, she recognized Colin Delaney’s voice. Relieved and angry at the same time, she opened the door to the dark-haired Irishman. “What on earth do you think you’re doing, scaring me like that?” she railed.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Thick black eyebrows and eyelashes dripped water as he squinted at her. “Sorry,” he said gruffly as he brushed back the hair waving darkly around his face.
She would have preferred that a smile accompany his apology, but in the few weeks she’d known Colin, his strong Celtic features rarely softened into casual smiles. His rugged good looks had intrigued her when they first met, but something about his guarded nature made her uneasy. She wondered why he was paying her a visit on such a stormy night.
A flash of lightning forked across the night sky, followed by a loud clap of vibrating thunder. All at once, the chilled air in the hotel snapped with electricity, as if Colin had brought the storm in with him. As he stood there, looming over her, his face in shadow, Della wished he hadn’t come. She was suddenly uneasy for the first time since she had moved into the empty three-story hotel. During the day, the place was filled with workmen doing the renovations, but at night she was alone—and vulnerable.
She gave herself a mental shake. Colin Delaney had sold her this hotel, which had been in his family for four generations, and she was satisfied that the investment would pay off now that the new Rockies baseball field was completed. All of her dealings with Colin had been straightforward and businesslike. Why was she uneasy about this visit?
“Did you walk from your office in this downpour?” she asked, trying to make some sense out of his showing up in the midst of lightning and thunder. As he took off his lightweight raincoat, she saw that the soft navy slacks and a light summer pullover damply accented his hard physique.
“I suppose I could have called, but I wanted to talk to you face-to-face,” he admitted.
She was puzzled. From the first time she’d met Colin Delaney, she’d felt peculiarly off stride around him and found his strong masculine energy disconcerting. She knew he was a bachelor with no immediate family, and as far as she knew, no serious relationships at the moment. But he gave every indication of knowing his way around women. As much as she may have been tempted, their business relationship had never edged toward anything personal. Any romantic entanglement with a man like Colin Delaney would create the kind of emotional waves that Della had been trying to avoid. She wasn’t prim or frigid, only cautious when it came to her love life. She’d always been able to control her emotions, and the few men who had briefly romanced her had never threatened the deep feelings she kept hidden and protected. She had to admit, however, that Colin challenged that protective detachment. She didn’t like the way he could engage her emotions without even seeming to realize he was doing it. She felt her defenses go up. “I don’t understand what could be so urgent to bring you out on a night like this.”
“It’s important,” he said flatly.
A lot of property in the area had come down through the Delaney family to Colin. She knew that his investment company was turning a couple of old warehouses into loft apartments just a couple of blocks away. But he’d been very tight-lipped about the reasons he’d decided not to renovate the historic Denver Railroad Hotel himself.
“All right. Come back to my apartment,” Della said. Their footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as she led the way down a short hall to the three rooms behind the hotel office, which she had turned into her private apartment. Blending the old with the new had been a challenge. She’d cleaned the brick fireplace, polished blackened copper fixtures to a bright glow, freshened the elaborate moldings adorning the walls and ceilings, and chosen wallpaper and window hangings that were harmonious with the ambience of the original building. She had filled the apartment with some nice pieces of old furniture from her aunt’s home and had added a few things she’d found in the shops on Larimer Street.
Much