CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Beth bolted out the back door. Ty gave Pearl an apologetic glance and followed as fast as he could. The woman could run.

Of course, with legs like hers, he should’ve known. She launched herself into the arms of the tall man who’d barely climbed out of the rental car. Definitely a family resemblance, but if Ty hadn’t known in advance, he might’ve been jealous of the warm reception she gave the guy.

She stopped hugging him, but kept hold of his hand when Ty reached them. “Ty, this is my cousin, Sam Dearborn, from Chicago.” She looked at her cousin. “Sam, this is Ty Malone.”

Cousin Sam was a tall one. He towered over Beth, who had to be at least six feet. The ponytail and diamond stud seemed out of place on such a big man.

He extended his right hand. “Welcome, Professor Dearborn.”

“Oh, please—call me Sam,” he said in a deep voice that matched his size as he shook Ty’s hand. “I gather Beth has been learning about farm life.” Sam looked around. “Lots of…open space here.”

“There is that.” Ty grinned. This one was even more citified than Beth. “Beth tells me you teach philosophy.”

“I do, yes,” Sam said. “I only have a few days to help Beth with a—”

She elbowed her cousin and turned the full power of her smile on Ty. “Sam was worried when he heard about the sniper.”

“Sniper? Yes, the sniper. Sniper?” Sam rubbed his ribs. “This should be interesting. By the way, Beth, I love the hair.” He gave a tight smile. “Well, it’s been a long trip, and I wonder if you’d mind if I use the facilities before we visit further.”

Facilities? Ty arched a brow. “Sure. No problem. There’s a half bath just off the foyer, inside the front door there.”

Sam gave him a mock salute and Beth a look that told Ty he definitely wasn’t in on their little secret. Beth returned to hold his hand and watched her cousin enter the front door. Of course, she didn’t go near it.

Sam looked back and gave her a thumbs-up sign. Ty chuckled. “What the hell kinda game are you two playing?” he asked. “I may be a farmer, but I’m not stupid, Beth. You’re scared shitless of my foyer, and he made a beeline for it. Give.”

She sighed. “I was trying to explain inside, when Sam arrived.”

“I’m still listening.”

The front door opened again and Sam came down the porch steps. “You’re not worried about any more snipers out here?” he asked, looking around at all the openness.

“I’m not sure the shooter will try the same method twice,” Beth said, and she looked toward the barn, thinking again about Ruby. “Instinct.”

“Interesting thing, instinct,” Sam said. “I had sort of a…feeling about the foyer of your house, Ty.”

“Imagine that.” He folded his arms across his abdomen. “You two really oughta consider taking this act on the road.”

Beth’s cheeks actually reddened. “Did she engage you, Sam?”

“Yes, but not in the way she wants to engage you.” It was Sam’s turn to feign innocence.

“Criminy. Why don’t you two just spill the beans here?” Ty held his hands out, palms up, in surrender. “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Who’s engaging whom and for what? Pearl’s the only person in the house right now.”

Beth faced him and took both his hands in hers. “This is what I was trying to explain to you when Sam arrived, Ty.”

“Then explain it now.” He shot a look at Sam, who shook his head. “Your cousin says it’s your show, Beth.”

“Sam and I share a genetic gift.”

“You do look a lot alike,” Ty admitted. “What gift, besides brains and good looks?” He jabbed a finger at Sam. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Sam laughed. “Not to worry, cowboy. I don’t swing that way.”

“I am not a cowboy.”

“Touchy, aren’t we?”

“Beth!” Ty gave her hands a hard squeeze. “Now, please.”

“We’re empathic, Ty. Some would call it psychic, and that’s true to a certain extent, especially for Sam, but—”

“Whoa, hold on a minute here.” Ty removed his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. Maybe the sun was hotter than he’d realized. “I don’t buy into this metaphysical nonsense. Try again.”

“It’s not metaphysical. It’s genetic.”

“Genetic. Like in your DNA? Like having blue eyes or brown hair?” Ty rolled his eyes. “Sure. Right. I really buy that happy horseshit.”

Beth gave his hands a squeeze. “You read the articles about me online, Ty. How do you think I solved all those murders?”

He thought back to the “Distinguished Detective” article and the mention of “unorthodox methods.” He really wanted to believe her. Trust her. He needed to, because…well, just because.

“I’m not sure, Beth,” he said in complete honesty. “Tell me.”

“Do you remember the first day we came here together?”

He nodded. “I’ll never forget. You almost keeled over and kept asking me if anybody’d ever…died in this house.”

She nodded vigorously.

Ty looked at Sam, whose expression told him he was on the right track. “Okay, so you’re telling me that you used some kind of psychic mumbo jumbo to solve all those murders back in Chicago?”

“After a fashion,” Sam said when Beth remained silent. He reached out and put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “It was much more…dramatic for her than that, I’m afraid. And far more personal.”

“Personal? What does that mean?” Ty didn’t understand at all. He shoved his hat back on his head. He wished Beth would reach for his hands again, but she didn’t.

“I told you I’d have to show you.” Her expression was stricken. Pained. “You won’t believe me unless you see for yourself.”

“I—I’m sorry, Beth, but this is just too weird for me.” He reached for her hands, but she pulled back.

Sam kept his hand on her shoulder. It was clear the cousins were as close as brother and sister.

“Sam, tell me what you think you—what’s the right word?—sensed in my house just now. Please?”

The big man’s expression grew solemn, his hazel eyes—the same shade as Beth’s—held sadness. “I’m not sure either of you are ready to hear this.”

“I am,” Beth said. “Please, Sam. I begged you to come here for this.”

The cousins held each other’s gaze for several seconds, then faced Ty again. Sam took her hand and pressed it into Ty’s.

“You’re going to need each other while you hear this.”

Beth bit her lower lip and looked up at Ty, meeting his gaze directly for the first time in several minutes. “I think I know what he’s going to tell us.”

“My God,” Ty said, his grip tightening. “It’s Lorilee.”

Sam nodded. “The spirit in your foyer was known in this world as Lorilee Brubaker-Malone.”

Beth swayed and Ty slid his arm around her shoulders. “So Lorilee has a message for both of us,” she said. “What did she ask you to do, Sam?”

He gave her a sad smile. “Two things, actually.” He looked at Ty now. “The way this gift works with me is that those who’ve died and left things unfinished often can’t rest in peace.”

Ty nodded, seeming as if he really wanted to accept this. “I’m listening.” He looked at Beth. “I’m trying to understand. And…this means Lorilee really is dead.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Right here in our home.”

Beth squeezed his hand. “Yes, that’s what it means, and there’s more.” She sighed and gave Sam a knowing look. “You finish first, Cuz.”

“Lorilee wants you, Ty, to know she’s sorry about the…secret drinking.” He shot a quick look at Beth, then turned his full attention back to Ty. “And she wants you to know that she made an appointment to have herself admitted for treatment.”

Ty rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand, keeping the other around Beth’s shoulders. “I knew she had a drinking problem, and I’ve been kicking myself all this time for not doing something about it.” He sighed. “Intervention, I think it’s called.”

“Yes, that’s what it’s called,” Beth said, her stomach in knots. Ty didn’t deserve another woman in his life with a drinking problem. “Go on, Sam. What else did she tell you?”

“About her diary.” He returned his attention to Ty. “She wants you to give it to the lady who can help her.” He shook his head. “She was a little vague about where she’d left it, though.”

“The lady who can help her?” Ty shook his head. “Who—?”

“Me. She means me.” Beth pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I’m the one who can help her. She’s been trying to engage me since I first stepped through your front door.”

She felt Ty’s gaze on her and drew a deep breath before meeting it. “Ty, it’s time you understood my gift, and all its implications.”

“Right now isn’t the time,” Sam said, looking beyond them. “Looks like a mob headed this way.”

“Mob?” Ty looked over his shoulder and chuckled, though his heart couldn’t have been in it. “That ‘mob’ is my family.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Sam said. “Which reminds me that Lorilee also said how much she loves and misses her babies, and that she thinks you’re doing a beautiful job raising them.”

“We need to find that diary,” Beth said as they all stood there waiting for the children and their grandparents. “Any ideas, Ty?”

He nodded. “My guess is the studio.”

“I’ll start there,” she said. “I noticed something else while going over my notes this morning.”

“What’s that?”

“Today is the anniversary of her disappearance.”

“Death,” Ty corrected.

“Murder,” Beth added.

Ty looked from Sam to Beth, then back again, finally settling on Beth. “I guess she didn’t remove her own body from the place where she died.”

“No, of course not.” Beth gave his hand another squeeze. “The date of her death can be very powerful for empathic purposes.” She looked at Sam for correlation, and he nodded. “And I need to have Sam here when I engage Lorilee.”

“I’ll ask Bill to take the kids back home with him tonight.”

“Good,” Beth said. “I think that’s best. Can we send Pearl and Cecil on a trip or errand?”

“You don’t want any witnesses?”

Beth shook her head. “This is incredibly painful for me, Ty.”

Sam cleared his throat. “She wouldn’t risk this for just anybody.” Anger punctuated his words. “Be grateful and cooperate.”

Ty met Sam’s gaze, and Beth sensed the two men squaring off, the way men do. This was the proverbial male pissing contest. She finally sighed and said, “Knock it off—both of you.”

“Okay, Beth,” Sam said. “It’s just that we both love you. That’s all.”

Beth couldn’t look at Ty after that comment, but she also made a mental note that he hadn’t denied the feelings Sam had attributed to him. Was that what she wanted?

She was terrified of the answer.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Grace shouted as she threw herself at her father. “What a pretty pony!”

“She’s not a pony, honey,” he said, gathering his youngest child in his arms and squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

The man had just learned his wife was really dead, but he didn’t have the proof. He needed that, so he could tell his children. Beth’s resolve grew.

Sarah said, “I think we have a name, Dad.”

“What?”

“Stormy,” Mark answered. “She’s the color of rain clouds.”

“We thought Cloud at first, but Stormy is bestest,” Grace said matter-of-factly.

“Well, then, Stormy it is.” Ty waited until Bill and Ruby had joined them, then introduced them all to Sam Dearborn.

After all the introductions, Ruby asked, “Are you an investigator, too?”

Sam laughed. “A college professor.”

Bill leaned close to Ruby and asked, “Didn’t you see the earring?” He didn’t bother to whisper.

Beth had a hunch Ty was working on a scheme that would send the children away overnight again. She didn’t know exactly what, but having the kids around while she faced her gift and her demons would be too risky.

Finally, he said, “Bill, I seem to recall Sarah mentioning that Hannah Montana would be in Nashville tonight.”

“Is that so?” Bill winked at his wife. “Who’s Hannah Idaho?”

“Montana, Grandpa,” Sarah and Grace both corrected, laughing.

“I forgot to get tickets.” Ty shook his head. “My mind’s been on this investigation. But I remember you have some connections…”

Beth had already discerned from Mark’s birthday party that there was nothing Bill Brubaker liked better than spoiling his grandchildren, and playing the role of Daddy Warbucks while he was at it.

He puffed up and said, “Let me make a call. I’ll see what I can do.”

After a minute, he asked, “How many tickets?”

Ty said, “We three have to stay here for the investigation, but why not take Cecil and Pearl along? They’ve earned some time off, and they can help you with the kids.”

“Excellent idea.” Bill finalized the deal and disconnected his BlackBerry. “Well, y’all, if we’re going to Nashville, we’d better get packing. Especially you, Ruby Slowpoke.”

Grandma Ruby rolled her eyes and said, “Woohoo. Hannah Montana.”

Mark grinned and said, “I think she’s pretty hot.”

That comment from a twelve-year-old broke the tension, for at least a few minutes. Even Beth, Ty, and Sam managed to laugh. Mark didn’t seem to get the joke.

“All right, you two,” Ty said when they were alone. “Let’s go diary hunting.”

What he really wanted to do was take Beth with the haunted eyes to bed for some long, slow massage and lots of gentle lovemaking. Though he didn’t know what to make of this “empathic” stuff, he knew one thing: her cousin had been dead right when he’d said they both loved Beth. How it had happened so fast, Ty couldn’t imagine, but he was in love with this woman. And he didn’t want her to hurt. The pain in her eyes was eating away at him.

“Lorilee said the diary is in a decorative wooden box,” Sam explained as they climbed the stairs single file to her attic studio.

“Okay,” Ty said. “Did Beth tell you I haven’t moved anything up here since Lorilee’s death?”

Sam whistled low. “Lots of dust bunnies?”

“Not in Pearl’s domain,” Beth said. “It’s clean enough, but everything is where it was the day Lorilee died.”

“A pity we can’t convince her to just come up here and show us where it is,” Sam said dryly.

“We only have until tomorrow afternoon, so let’s get cracking,” Ty suggested. Even though proving his wife’s death had been the goal, he still wasn’t comfortable with the concept, because he didn’t have real proof. It wasn’t as if he could tell anyone or put the gossips in their place.

He hadn’t entered the attic since that first day he and Beth had come up here together. The children came up occasionally, but only with Pearl’s permission, and for a specific purpose. So Pearl was the only person who should have had access to the room in the last few days.

Ty opened the closed door at the top of the narrow staircase and immediately knew someone had been there. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers were pulled completely out of the files and upended.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“Someone beat us here,” Beth said from behind him.

“Looking for the diary?” Sam asked as they all emerged into the ransacked room.

Ty shook his head. “I don’t think anyone else knew she kept one.”

“Looking for anything I might find that could incriminate him or her,” Beth said, nodding matter-of-factly. “We made it common knowledge that I intended to go through Lorilee’s files up here.” She held her hands out to indicate the room. “And now we have this, on top of two attempts on my life.”

Ty swallowed hard. “This is getting ugly.”

“Tell me about it.” Beth’s haunted expression gave way to something new. Fierce determination. “I’ve had it with this, Ty. We’re going to catch this killer.”

“Look out! She’s baaa-aaack,” Sam said with a big grin. After Beth gave him the middle-fingered salute, he cleared his throat and looked at Ty. “Who could have gotten up here since you were here last?”

He shook his head. “Beats hell out of me.”

“I know the perfect time when no one would have noticed or heard,” Beth said, her eyes narrowed and flashing.

Ty followed her train of thought. “Mark’s party.” He shook his head slowly. “Very clever. House was full of people, lots of commotion. Anyone could have slipped up here to trash the place. But why?”

“I think Beth already solved that mystery,” Sam said as he walked around the room, touching various pieces of furniture as if he thought they might speak to him. “They were looking for anything she might use against them before she could find it. What we don’t—and can’t—know is if they found anything or removed it. Like the diary.”

“Unless we find it.”

“So let’s dig,” Ty said.