Forgotten Legacy Page 10

  They entered the kitchen just as Carson heaved a large pan of lasagna into the oven. “You’re early,” he said, following them into the living room. “Dinner won’t be ready for an hour.”

  “That’s okay. We have some business first.”

  Thayne’s grandmother sat on a loveseat, flipping through her sketchbook. Riley hadn’t seen her do that for several weeks. She strode over to Helen. “Were you drawing today?”

  Helen looked up, her eyes clear and aware. “I can’t seem to make the pencil do what I want, dear.” She sighed and patted the seat beside her. “I see you brought your bag. Any sketches to show me?”

  “Nothing particularly interesting.” Riley wasn’t about to show her the incomplete drawings of a house that had been burned to the ground. Normally, sketching provided insight. Not with this case. “Today was . . . frustrating.”

  “Try living with Swiss cheese for a brain.” Helen chuckled. “It’s not fun.”

  Riley stared in shock at Helen. Her days of self-awareness didn’t come very often.

  “Oh good grief, don’t look at me like that. I know I can’t think right most of the time.” Her smile vanished.

  Lincoln sat next to his wife. He lifted her hand to her lips. “Today’s a good day,” he said to her. “Let’s be thankful.”

  She sank into him. “I don’t want to be a burden to you or the rest of the family. Promise me you won’t let that happen.”

  “You’ll never be a burden, my love.”

  Riley’s throat thickened at the love so transparent on Lincoln’s face. His devotion truly humbled her. She chanced a glance at Thayne. He’d promised her a love like this, a love she’d never thought could be real.

  Helen patted her husband’s cheek. “Enough of these maudlin thoughts.” She narrowed her gaze at Riley, then glanced across the room at Thayne. “Why are you two here? I’d expect Thayne to be wanting you all to himself. What’s wrong?”

  “A little girl’s in the hospital, Gram.” Thayne crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. “We need Dad’s help.”

  “Good boy. He’s feeling a bit down in the mouth since he quit working.” Thayne hovered over her, and she patted his arm. “Oh good grief, go do your job. I don’t need anyone mollycoddling me but Lincoln.”

  “You heard the boss, Thayne. Get to work.” Lincoln settled next to Helen, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, tucked her feet underneath her, and closed her eyes in contentment.

  Riley couldn’t remember seeing such utter joy on Helen’s face, not to mention Lincoln’s.

  “Understood, Pops.” He turned to his father. “Can we talk?”

  Riley followed the two men into the kitchen. “She’s having a great day.”

  Carson nodded and poured a cup of coffee before sitting at the table. “It’s strange. Some days I’m not sure she recognizes any of us. She pretends, but I catch her looking at me or Pops with this blank stare that sends a chill right through me. She took a nap after lunch, woke up, and it was like a lightbulb turned on inside her head. For a couple of hours it’s like I have my mother back.”

  Riley touched Carson’s hand. “I’m happy for you.”

  “We don’t know how many good days are left. Every moment she’s here with us, we have to soak in.”

  Thayne placed a cup of coffee in front of Riley and sat at the table next to her. “Show him the photos.”

  She slid the newspaper photo across the table.

  “The Jordans and their daughter.” Carson frowned at them. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s not awake yet. That’s part of our problem.” She showed him the older photo. “Do you recognize them? They may have come to town about seven years ago. Maybe they stayed at the B and B, maybe rented a house.”

  Thayne leaned forward as if willing his father to provide some answers. Riley could only hope, but the way this case had gone, her optimism had cratered.

  Carson studied the photo, and his brow furrowed. “Something familiar about them, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them walking around town . . .” He tapped his chin and snapped his fingers. “It’s the same woman. What are you two up to? Testing me or something?”

  Thayne shook his head. “I wish that were the case. Kim and Chloe Jordan had a prior identity. Whoever knew that identity may be who killed Kim and her husband.”

  Carson let out a low whistle. “I wish I could help.”

  “We do have something else,” Thayne said. “The map.”

  Riley pulled out the sketch and slid it across to Carson. “We found this in the same location as the photos.”

  His mouth pursed in concentration, Carson squinted at the crude map. “Not very specific, is it?”

  Pops walked in. “Helen wants a cup of hot cider,” he said. “It’s been a while since she didn’t just take what I’m having.” He passed by the table and paused. “That’s funny. That looks just like a map of the east border.”

  Thayne’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know the land the Rivertons claim we stole from them.” He pointed to the square. “The old Riverton cabin sits between Singing River Creek and the Wind River Mountains. Old man Riverton peppered my butt with salt when I was a kid and sneaked out there. Nearly started a war. I’m surprised someone wasn’t killed out there.”

  “Why in the hell would Kim Jordan have a map to a cabin on our ranch?” Thayne shook his head. “There’s nothing particularly valuable on that land.”

  “That we know of,” Carson said. “There has to be a reason the Blackwoods and Rivertons have been fighting over it for a hundred years. I never knew, though.”

  “My father never told me,” Lincoln offered. “It’s always just been.” He heated up the apple cider in the microwave.

  “None of this makes any sense,” Riley said with a frown. Every time they discovered a new piece of information, it didn’t fit.

  “Just like it never made sense why Kim called the house before calling you. Did Gram ever tell you why, Pops?” Thayne asked his grandfather.

  “Whatever memory she had of the phone call hasn’t come back yet. Sorry.” He took a sip of the drink and added another fifteen seconds on the microwave timer. “It may be lost.”

  “What about asking her now?” Riley said. “She seems so clear today.”

  “I’ll give it a try, but don’t get your hopes up.” He paused. “I wish we could help more. I’ll think on the stories my father told me about the feud, but it’s been a long time.” He disappeared out of the room with the cider.

  So the Blackwoods had their own secret past. They weren’t as perfect as she’d imagined. In many ways that gave Riley comfort. Oh, she knew the family had experienced their share of tragedy and heartache. Thayne had lost his mother; there was Helen’s Alzheimer’s and Cheyenne’s kidnapping, not to mention Carson’s cardiomyopathy. The Blackwood family had faced its fair share of challenges, but what had always struck Riley were the love and loyalty, despite tragedy.

  “When’s the last time you visited the cabin?” Riley asked Carson, her brow raised.

  He shook his head in bemusement. “How’d you know I sneaked out there?”

  “Just a hunch.” She met his gaze. “What teenage boy wouldn’t explore a forbidden stretch of land?”

  “I admit I did, but I regret it.” He let out a small sigh and glanced over at Thayne. “I’d overheard your grandparents talking about the feud and how the families still refused to communicate. Your grandmother thought the entire situation was ridiculous. Pops got mad because Gram had dated one of the Riverton sons when she was in high school. I think he was jealous.”

  Thayne let out a low whistle. “I had no idea. I always saw them together . . . I guess forever.”

  “Everyone has a past. I decided to explore, ignoring the sky. By the time I reached the land, snow was coming down. Hard. Your grandmother had seen me listening and took a chance. She found me and got me home before Pops realized I could’ve d
ied out there. I’ve never seen her so angry. She never gave me up, though. I felt so bad I never went back. Truth is, it wasn’t all that interesting. Nothing to see.” He tapped the map. “Or so I thought.”

  A clatter sounded from the living room.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know you, old man!” Helen’s voice rose in panic-laced fear. “Why are you hounding me? Stay away or I’ll tell my Lincoln.”

  Thayne shot to his feet and raced into the living room. Riley followed.

  Pops held his hands up. “I won’t touch you, Helen. It’s okay. Calm down.”

  Her head whipped around, and her gaze landed on Thayne. She rushed over to him.

  “Lincoln. What’s going on? That old man wants to know my secrets. I can’t talk about them. You know that. You promised you’d never ask, that you trusted me.”

  Thayne lifted his grandmother’s chin. “Your secrets are safe. I promise.”

  She blinked and took a shuddering breath. “It’s important.”

  Helen sagged against him, and Thayne hummed in her ear. Slowly her body relaxed and she swayed. Thayne’s chin rested on her hair and he closed his eyes, but not before Riley witnessed the heartache. Day by day, Thayne’s grandmother slipped away from her family.

  With a long sigh, Lincoln made his way to the window, his body stiff with tension. He couldn’t comfort his wife when she saw him not as her husband but as a stranger who terrified her. Riley couldn’t imagine how he dealt with his wife’s unpredictable behavior with such quiet dignity, but he did.

  Whenever the family gathered around Helen, Riley felt as if she should disappear and leave them alone. With a last look, she vanished into the kitchen.

  She’d learned over the last month that Helen’s behavior could be stable for days, and then suddenly she’d shift, almost becoming another person. Even though Riley had researched dementia, the unpredictability still shocked her.

  Thayne could visit tomorrow and she’d know that he was her grandson. She might even know why she’d given Riley’s number to Kim. Then again, they might never know.

  Riley picked through the map and photos. It was an obscure clue, but hardly worth a line in her notes. She couldn’t remember a case that had provided her with less information. That awful sense of foreboding had risen inside her.

  Unless Thayne’s grandmother had another good day or Chloe woke up, Riley couldn’t help but wonder if the Kim and Aaron Jordan murder case would ever be solved.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The lights outside Fannie’s Bed and Breakfast glowed like a beacon in the chilly night. Thayne stood on the front porch and stared at Riley. Normally, he wouldn’t have hesitated to follow her inside. The awkwardness between them didn’t sit right.

  Even Gram had noticed.

  A curtain shifted, and Thayne caught the movement. Too many people wanted to know their business.

  “I’d better get going.” He dug his keys out of his pocket.

  Riley stopped him with a touch of her hand. “Your grandmother surprised me today.” Her gaze shimmered with sympathy. “She seemed so clear, and then so confused, within a matter of minutes.”

  Thayne took comfort in the warmth of her hand on his arm. Talking to his own family about Gram’s condition could be difficult sometimes. They all took loyalty seriously. No one wanted to be hurtful, so sometimes they simply said nothing to each other.

  What could they say? It’s not like they could do anything except try to meet Gram in her world—wherever or whenever that happened to be.

  He linked his fingers with hers and squeezed. “One thing about Alzheimer’s—you can’t predict much of anything. The only thing that’s certain is she’ll get worse.”

  “I wish . . .” Riley hesitated. “I wish I could help.”

  “You are. You treat her with dignity and you don’t avoid her,” Thayne said. “That’s more than most.”

  “Do you want to come inside?” Riley’s words were hesitant.

  With a gentle touch, Thayne ran his thumb down her cheek. His gaze captured hers, and the vulnerability in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t say no. Not tonight. “Sure.”

  He opened the front door for her, and she brushed past him. The living room was completely silent. Only the sound of the hall clock as it struck the half-hour mark escorted them up the stairs.

  She slipped the key into her lock and pushed open the door. The first thing that hit him was the plethora of photographs attached to the longest wall of the bedroom. The ashen remains of the Jordan household. A sea of dark gray and white, a haunting reminder of what currently bonded Thayne and Riley together.

  He’d read somewhere that danger and excitement triggered the same neurotransmitters as falling in love. Could their brains be fooling them? Was their love real—or an illusion?

  To distract himself from a path he’d rather not follow, he studied the images on her murder board. “When you look at their home this way, it’s . . .”

  “Depressing and disturbing.” Riley slipped off her coat and laid it on the bed. “It’s too warm in here. Madison must’ve turned it up before she switched rooms. That girl always did sleep in a sauna.” Riley adjusted the heater before crossing to the desk. She laid out her satchel and pulled out the prints of the photos she’d taken today, as well as those Quinn had provided. Along with the map.

  Riley pinned up photo after photo. The panic room. Minute details of the horrifying charred remains on the bed. Traces of the quilt—the fire’s point of origin. Images he wouldn’t have noticed kept joining the overall picture of the destroyed house. Thayne ticked off a handful of identifiable items: the weapon, the lipstick tube, the lighter. Their placement alone had convinced her the Jordans were murdered.

  Seeing the truth up on this wall rekindled the fury in his gut. What a horrible way to die. During one of his tours, he’d witnessed the murder of a civilian being set ablaze. There’d been nothing he could do, but the screams were unlike anything he’d ever heard. When his team had finally reached the outskirts of the village, the twisted agony had shown on the man’s body.

  The memory hit him like shrapnel between the eyes. He narrowed his gaze at the photo of the bodies more closely. “I should have noticed this before. The Jordans are lying prone, side by side. You mentioned that at the scene.”

  Riley backed away until she stood beside him. “It’s as if they didn’t react to the fire at all, even in sleep.” She narrowed her gaze. “I can’t imagine them not being dead before the fire was set.”

  Thayne paced to and fro in front of the growing collection of pictures. “Just one more inconsistency pointing to murder. You know, if you hadn’t been there, it would’ve been labeled a tragic accident, case closed. We would’ve completely misread their deaths.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourselves. Most police departments would’ve reacted exactly the same way. This time the killer made a mistake,” Riley said. “He wanted the murder to appear as if Aaron Jordan fell asleep smoking, the lamp fell over and ignited, and they couldn’t get out.” She pinned the map to the edge of the board. “How is Kim Jordan connected to the piece of property the Rivertons and Blackwoods have been feuding over, and how does Helen figure into the picture?”

  A knock sounded at the door. Riley glanced through the peephole and opened it.

  Madison walked in and smiled when she saw Thayne. She looked good, considering everything she’d been through.

  He gave her a quick hug. “Welcome home.”

  Madison patted his back and stepped away, eyeing him with a critical gaze. “You look like you could use some sleep. Riley’s sucked you into another one of her puzzles.” She glanced over at her sister. “I left my toothbrush in the bathroom,” she said, and disappeared through the door.

  When Madison reentered the room, she shuddered at the photos on the wall. “I can’t sleep in a room with a crime scene staring at me. I don’t know how you do it, Thayne.”

  “I can barely stay here since you crank
ed up the heat,” Riley groused. “You’ve turned my room into an oven.”

  “I didn’t change the temperature,” Madison denied. “Maybe Fannie did.”

  “If you say so,” Riley said with a frown. “Feeling any better?”

  Her sister shrugged. “Rested, anyway. At least no one checked up on me every half hour while I slept.” She shifted. “I should get out of your hair, leave you to your . . . fun?”

  Riley flushed and Thayne hid a grin. He really liked that Madison teased Riley. Truth was, he couldn’t stop himself from being in awe of Madison. Every one of the kidnapped children they’d recovered told the same story: Madison had protected them, had provided them with security and love in the midst of a prison.

  He had to wonder . . . “Before you go, I have a favor to ask.” Thayne hesitated slightly. He didn’t want to impose, but he had a feeling Madison might be exactly what the doctor ordered. “Riley told you about Chloe?”

  Madison nodded.

  “She’s still not awake. Cheyenne hoped that reading to her or even someone speaking to her might help. I offered to round up some volunteers. Would you be interested?”

  “I’d love to help.” She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good one, Thayne Blackwood. I’m glad you’re the one who fell in love with my sister.” She winked at Riley and disappeared out the door.

  The click of the lock echoed through the silent room. Riley faced Thayne. “Everyone is so sure we belong together. Why aren’t we?”

  “If love were the only emotion we had to worry about, our choices would be easier.” Slowly, searching Riley’s every expression, he eased toward her until they were toe to toe. He breathed in, and the lavender scent of her shampoo filled his senses. His heart raced. “You being in Singing River is making a difference in this case. I hope you realize that.”

  “All I’ve done is create more questions than answers.”

  “But the answers you’ve found have focused our search. I couldn’t do this without you. Hell”—he swept his hand down her hair until his palm settled on her shoulder—“I don’t want to do this without you.”