and two together. Whether he’d had a good, mediocre or bad marriage, seeing someone who reminded him so strongly of his wife must have come as a shock to him.
She’d known something was wrong. For some reason it made her feel strange. She didn’t want to look like anyone else, especially his murdered wife. Apparently he didn’t like it, either.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” she said. “Considering his progress, tomorrow should be the last time he needs to come in.” Working with children had made her careful not to allow attachments to form. “I’ll send you home with a sheet showing a few exercises he can do. If you make a game of it and do them with him, he won’t know you’re trying to help strengthen those muscles. Keep in mind he doesn’t have to do the exercises. Natural play will eventually work out any kinks, but it’s something you can do together as father and son to speed things up. Do you have any questions for me?”
“None.”
He seemed anxious to get off the phone. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll deal with the issue of his not wanting to go to school then.”
Melissa hung up. She had no desire to prolong their conversation either. It would have been agony for Travis Stillman to have to discuss the tragedy with her. Heaven knows it was hard enough to hear about it. Any trauma that directly affected a child pained her. But murder … The poor boy. The poor father. He’d been forced to give up his life’s work and move to a new state. None of that could have been easy.
She was glad she had a busy schedule that afternoon. It would get her mind off what she’d learned.
At four o’clock she left the clinic for her parents’ home in Federal Heights, an area in the northeast region of the city near the University of Utah. Five generations of Robertses, all of whom had run the Wasatch Front Steel Corporation, had lived there. Melissa had grown up surrounded by tall, gorgeous old trees and a lush yard. Her town house, where the trees had been newly planted and there was no heavy foliage, was a big change.
While she ate dinner with her parents, she told them about the cabin. Her father rubbed his chin. “That’s the trouble with such remote places, honey. After every winter, our neighbors up there complain of the same thing. Somebody’s broken in and things are stolen.”
She shook her head “Winter is one thing, Dad, but for intruders to be that brazen in summer is really upsetting. I didn’t see anything missing, but I know someone has been in there since July 24.”
“Let’s just be thankful you didn’t surprise them when you walked in,” her mother said. “I’ve never liked you going up there alone. This settles it. Please don’t use the cabin again unless you have a friend or family member with you.”
“Mom—”
“I don’t care if you’re a grown woman, Melissa. It’s not safe.”
“Your mother’s right, honey. What about Tom?”
“He’s a man I’ve done some artwork for, but that’s all. I’ve never been interested in him. When the book’s done, I won’t be doing any more projects with him. Real-life paintings aren’t the kind of thing I like to do.”
Her dad glanced at her with affection. “I know. You love your world of fantasy.”
“I always have.” She put down her fork. “Fall is when I like to be up at the cabin every weekend. The atmosphere inspires me. My week’s vacation starts next Tuesday. I planned to live up there the whole time, so I can hike and paint nonstop.”
“If you’re determined to go alone,” her father said, “then you need to buy a gun and learn how to shoot it.”
Her mother gasped. “William!”
“Well, it’s either that or take a boyfriend along.” Her parents despaired of her ever settling down again, and brought up the subject at every opportunity.
“I don’t have one. What if we hired a retired policeman to be at the cabin when I go up? I’d help pay him.”
Her father eyed her in frustration. “I guess anything’s possible, but tell you what, honey. Some time tomorrow I’ll call the police in the Kamas area and ask them to send someone over to the cabin and take a look.”
“I don’t see any signs of a break-in, so I don’t think that will do any good.”
“You have a point. Let me think about it. I don’t like this any more than you do.”
Her mother leaned forward. “I’ll go up with you for a couple of nights, and I’m sure John and Linda will, too. In the meantime, why don’t you ask Rosie from your work?”
“She’s involved with a guy, Mom.”
Besides, the problem with taking girl friends up there was that they needed to be entertained. At night they wanted to drive down to Kamas for a little fun, and to meet the local male talent. Melissa had done that years ago. It was how she’d met her husband. She had no desire for lightning to strike her twice in the same place.
Chapter Two
Travis was awake Wednesday morning long before it was time to take Casey to the clinic. His boss, Roman Lufka, owner of the Lufka Private Investigator firm, had intended to assign him a new case on Monday, but because Travis’s son refused to go to school, the timing was wrong.
Roman was the greatest, and told him to take as long as he needed to work with Casey, but Travis was getting anxious. It was one thing for his son to convince the therapist that he could manage without his crutches in order to receive a prize, and quite another to agree to go back to school without them.
Travis heard his cell phone ringing when he came out of the shower. Hitching a towel around his hips, he hurried into the bedroom and reached for it. Maybe the therapist was calling because a scheduling problem had come up.
Last night, without knowing what he knew, his housekeeper, Deana White, had whispered to him that Casey seemed to have developed a crush on the therapist and couldn’t wait until morning. Travis didn’t want to think about the damage a cancelation could do at such a pivotal point in Casey’s recovery.
Relief swept through him when he looked at the caller ID before picking up. “Hey, Chaz, it’s good to hear your voice.” Chaz Roylance was another great friend he’d made at the firm.
“Do you and Casey want to meet up for breakfast? I’ll bring Abby.” All the guys were trying to help Travis get through this rough period with his son.
“There’s nothing I’d like better, but we’re due at his therapist’s in twenty minutes.”
“How’s it going?”
Travis sucked in his breath. “She challenged him to come without his crutches. Wants him to leave them at home. If he takes her up on it, I think we’re halfway there.”
“Only halfway?”
“The other half is getting him to go back to school.”
“I hear you. As you know, our Abby is still having meltdowns over bees.”
“The poor little tyke.”
“When she sees one, it’s the end of the world. Frankly, I’m glad cooler weather is on the way. Unless I can promise that bees won’t be around, she refuses to do certain things, even for her mother.”
For her mother.
In that arena, Travis had the edge on Chaz, because the therapist seemed to have the power to get his son to do anything. Travis ought to be grateful to her. Hell, he was grateful, but nothing seemed to alleviate his tortured thoughts since he’d met her.
“Thanks for the invite,” he said to Chaz. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He hung up and went back to the bathroom to shave. After putting on a crew-neck and dark trousers, he walked through the