once again fell from Janette’s eyes but she offered him a tremulous smile.
“Nana, are you all right?”
As she said these words a knot of tension eased in his chest. Either she was a better actress than Meryl Streep or she was now talking to the grandmother she’d thought murdered.
“Does he know where you are now?” Janette asked. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” She paused and listened for several minutes, then continued, “We’re fine and hopefully tomorrow we’ll be on the bus. Don’t worry, Nana, everything is going to be okay. I love you, too. I’ll stay in touch.”
Janette hung up the phone and stared at Dalton, her eyes once again haunted with fear. “She’s alive, thank God.” She returned to the sofa. He saw the tremor that went through her body, but when she gazed at him he realized it was anger shining from her eyes, not fear.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Yesterday morning Nana braved the snow to go to Nancy’s and have coffee. She was there for about two hours. When she got home she had the feeling somebody had been in her trailer. She didn’t find anything out of place or missing so she chalked it up to her imagination. Then last night she was feeling lonely and unsettled, so she went back to Nancy’s to play some cards and spend the night. During the night her trailer was set on fire.”
Shock filled Dalton at her words.
“Thank God she wasn’t home. He meant to kill her, Dalton.” Janette’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “He meant to kill her and blame me so he can see me in prison. Then he’ll be free to claim Sammy.”
They both looked at the sleeping child on the floor. A weary resignation filled him. He’d offered her safe harbor from a snowstorm but now it appeared that the storm in her life had nothing to do with the weather outside. And he had a feeling whether he wanted it or not, her storm had become his.
“Why don’t we get something to eat? It’s past dinner-time and I think we both could use something warm in our bellies.” He got up from the sofa and she followed him into the kitchen. “Grilled cheese and soup?” he asked and pointed her to the table.
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter what he offered her. He opened a can of tomato soup and poured it into a saucepan, then when he had it warming up he prepared the grilled cheese for the awaiting skillet. As he worked, she stared out the window where darkness had begun to fall.
He had to admit that there was something about her that touched him, that called on protective instincts he’d thought had been lost when he’d lost Mary.
“It must have been a tough decision to have the baby under the circumstances,” he said. “A lot of women would have chosen a different option.”
“I thought about an abortion,” she replied. “But, to be honest it was just a passing thought. It might be an option for a lot of women, but it wasn’t for me. I was easily able to separate the innocent baby from the monster who had raped me.”
She smiled then, the first smile he’d seen from her since the appearance of Brandon Sinclair on his doorstep. It was like sunshine breaking through chill wintry clouds. “Sammy is the best of me and there hasn’t been a single minute that I’ve regretted my decision to give him life.”
That’s mother love, he thought. That fierce, shining emotion he saw in Janette’s eyes, that was what he’d lost when his mother had been murdered. Dalton rarely thought about the mother he couldn’t remember, but a shaft of unexpected grief stabbed him now.
“It was a sheriff who murdered my mother twenty-five years ago,” he said. Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “The sheriff of Cotter Creek, Jim Ramsey. He was arrested a couple of months ago when he stalked my sister.”
“Why? Why did he kill your mother?”
Dalton stirred the soup, then placed the first two sandwiches into the skillet. “He said he loved her, but it wasn’t love, it was a sick, twisted obsession. He approached her one night on the highway and told her he loved her, that he wanted her to leave my dad, and when she refused he lost it and strangled her.”
He didn’t miss the parallel in what had happened to his mother and what had happened to Janette. Men they should have been able to trust had accosted both on a lonely stretch of highway. The only difference was, Janette had survived and his mother had not.
“Oh, Dalton, I’m so sorry.”
He nodded and swallowed around the unexpected lump of emotion that rose up in his throat. “It was a long time ago. She was a wonderful, loving person.”
“And your father never remarried?”
Dalton flipped the sandwiches. “No, never even looked at another woman. He and my mom were true soul mates and when she was gone he never showed any interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone else.”
“From what my grandmother told me, my mother wasn’t even sure who my father was.” Her gaze went back to the window again and when she looked back at Dalton a tiny frown furrowed her forehead. “Why would he tell you that I’d killed Nana?”
Dalton took up the grilled cheese sandwiches and placed them on two separate plates. “If he burned down her trailer last night it’s possible he doesn’t know she isn’t dead. If he puts out the word that you’re wanted for questioning in a murder case, then you’re going to have trouble hiding out. He can get law enforcement officials in every county keeping an eye out for you.”
He set the plates on the table then went back to grab the two bowls of soup. “If you’re trying to cheer me up, it isn’t working,” she said dryly.
She placed her spoon in her bowl, but didn’t begin to eat. Instead, she looked back out the window, where night had completely fallen. “Do you think he believed you when you told him you didn’t know me, that I wasn’t here?”
Dalton followed her gaze to the window and a tight knot of tension formed in his chest. “I have a feeling we’ll know before the bus shows up in town.”
* * *
Brandon raised his collar against the stiff wind that blew from the north. He stood across the street from Dalton West’s place, eyes trained on the upper windows. She was in there. He smelled her, the trailer trash tramp who was trying to keep his son from him.
He’d known that she’d blown town, had taken his son and left Sandstone. A visit to her grandmother’s house yesterday had given him his clue. The old lady wasn’t home but he’d gotten inside and taken a look around. The minute he’d seen the name and phone number on the nightstand, he knew in his gut that he was on her trail.
It was obvious from the condition of the small bedroom in the trailer that Janette had packed up and left. Clothes were thrown helter-skelter and there wasn’t a baby article to be found except for the crib, which was stripped of bedding.
He’d been enraged. He’d gone back to his office, researched to find out what he could about Dalton West, then late last night had returned to the trailer and set it on fire. He considered the death of Janette’s grandmother collateral damage. He hadn’t yet gotten the official report of the fire from their fire chief, but he knew the man would write up whatever Brandon told him to.
With the old woman dead and Janette wanted as a suspect in an arson-murder case, she’d find it difficult to get out of Cotter Creek. She was a wanted woman, and if he put a reward on her head, she wouldn’t be able to show her face anywhere.
He’d known he’d find Janette, and he had. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the windows. Even though Dalton West had told him he’d never heard of Janette Black, that there was no woman with a baby inside his place, Brandon knew he’d lied.
The sheriff had done his homework. He knew Dalton West was a bachelor who lived alone. But he’d watched the silhouettes move back and forth in front of those windows and knew the professional bodyguard wasn’t