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Running his fingers over the side of the nubby-textured seat, Rand searched for the buttons that controlled its position. Finding the cool plastic button, he dropped the back of his seat to a more restful angle. He expected the pain in the center of his back to ease, but it didn’t. Nothing would stop the sorrow that pierced his heart, pinning him to the seat like a crumpled note on a corkboard. The grief was wicked and had pushed him into a quagmire of self-pity.
Flying scared the hell out of him. But this was the quickest, and only, way to get to Hawaii. Echo drove him to the airport in Casper where he boarded a small jet headed for Salt Lake City. He changed planes there for Los Angeles, where he boarded this flight.
He’d been in the air over the water for three hours. Nausea caused him to swallow hard as images of the water and plane meeting flashed through his head. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the huge fuselage. He didn’t need that added stress of wondering what kept it in the air.
The past few hours had been surreal. Here he sat on a plane bound for Hawaii, a place he’d always longed to see. Rand tried to force reality into this situation. Ann was in the hospital on life support, for God’s sake! But it didn’t seem real. Looking down at his arm, he found a small spot of wallpaper paste still clinging to the hair and he smiled. Echo was reality. She had been his first true infatuation back in high school. He would have recognized her anywhere. That hair! Not only did its black richness sparkle like snow on a frigid winter morning, but it also smelled fresh with a hint of oranges.
Ann will like Echo when they meet. With a start, he turned his thoughts back to his sister. She needed him. What would he do if...? Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, begging sleep to overpower him, but his eyes wouldn’t stay shut.
An occasional tear flowed down his grief-stricken face, and he wiped his hands over his cheekbones as he stared out into a thick layer of clouds that obscured the contour of the earth below. Not that he cared about the view. The pretense was only to hide his grief from the surrounding others. Most of them were smiling and laughing—looking forward to their excursions. Thankfully, no one shared the seat beside him. He wasn’t up to conversation, prying looks, or sympathy.
He wanted Annie.
Rand’s eyes drifted shut and the emptiness of a black void crowded his subconscious. Sleep descended, tucking his grief into a dark, comfortable corner of his mind. Rand gave himself completely to the falling darkness.
He was awakened by a jolt of turbulence. Slowly opening his eyes, he watched as a tall, blonde woman walked through strands of a gray mist toward him.
Annie?
The last time he’d seen her, her white-blonde hair had been cropped above her ears, in just the style this woman wore. Opening his eyes wider, he stared, holding his breath—afraid. She strolled down the narrow aisle between the seats as if driven by a musical beat only she could hear. Confusion muddled his mind. Was this a dream, reality, or...? Before he could finish the thought, the woman eased gracefully into the seat beside him.
“Rand, I’ve come to say good-bye.”
Randall felt the blood drain from his face. What was happening to him? This couldn’t be real! He was sane, logical, and for the life of him, he couldn’t believe this was happening.
He sought the bronze-colored eyes edged by thick, golden lashes that were so much like his own. Though twins, their only identical features were their eyes. But they shared that special gift that only twins can—the capacity to feel each other’s joy, sorrow, and pain.
“I’m real.” A smile parted her lips, and she laid her hand on his knee.
Reaching out with trembling fingers, he pressed his hand over hers. The skin felt warm and firm. His heart raced with excitement. “I knew it! I can still feel you, sis! So, this is all a mistake? Who is playing this crazy joke on me? You?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid it is all true, Rand. I came to tell you that everything will be all right, but you must go to the ranch to learn the truth.” Crystal tears welled against the base of her lashes. “Rand, I love you so much.” Her full bottom lip trembled. “Having you as my brother...I’ve been thankful all my life for you.”
She stood and started for the back of the plane.
“No! Wait! Don’t leave me!” Rand cried, his grief nearly strangling him. A pain as no other tore through him. It felt like his heart was being torn from his body. And then there was emptiness. He couldn’t feel the warmth that he knew as Annie.
Randall jumped to his feet, whirling toward the back of the plane to look for Annie. She wasn’t there. All he saw were wide eyes staring at him with fear and dismay.
Collapsing into his seat, he drew his chino clad knees toward his chest, dropped his head and let the ragged claws of grief score his soul.
She was gone.
~ * ~
THE SUN STREAMED THROUGH the thick growth of cottonwood leaves, scattering light across Echo’s face. Keeping her eyes closed, she stretched her body as she lay in the thickly padded lounge chair. She could see the movement of shadows and light through her eyelids and occasionally could get a whiff of the sweet-smelling air that rustled through the trees. High in the air, the leaves sounded like maracas in the hands of a child—softly rolling one moment, shaking violently the next.
Without opening her eyes, she stretched one hand out, searching for the handle of the insulated coffee mug. She didn’t want the world entering her soothing cocoon, forcing out these delicious feelings. This was the first afternoon she’d had to herself in over a month. Her fingers touched the handle of the mug, curling around it.
It had been four days since she had taken Rand to the airport. There still had been no word from him. No doubt his hands were full, worrying about his sister, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed he hadn’t called. What was that old saying, no news is good news? Since she’d heard nothing, she had to think everything was all right.
The beautiful day was made for relaxing, not fretting. Echo had finished all the guest rooms and they were ready for the opening. Only the suites where she, Alexis, and the girls stayed needed redecorating. She spent little time in her room anyway and Lex wasn’t in any hurry to get her room decorated, either. Lex had storage boxes stacked one on top of each other, filled with a lifetime of sentiments left from a broken marriage.
Echo wondered if, by putting the ashes of her marriage in boxes, Lex was hiding the hurt from her heart. It would be a while before her friend had the emotional fortitude to sell, give away, or just dump the mementos from her past. Echo knew firsthand how Alexis felt. She had a storage room in the basement filled with treasures from her past.
When Echo had bought the historic brothel, the community thought she had to be crazy about tackling such an enormous project by herself. Since putting Rand on the plane for Hawaii, she’d worked mercilessly getting the third-floor rooms papered and draperies hung.
She’d found a stash of photographs from the bordello’s heydays in a dining room cabinet she could have sworn she’d searched before moving all the furniture out so she could start painting and refinishing the hardwood floors. Not only were there photographs, but there had been a decorator’s dream cache of original swatches from the draperies, carpets, and linens matching the photographs. Then, while exploring the orchestra area in the fourth-floor ballroom, she’d found yards of drapery fabric folded nicely in burlap bags. Crawling deeper into the recess, she had dragged out bags of opulent canopy fabric and matching bedspreads. A virtual treasure chest of materials. The finding had spurred on the project.
Much of the material was still serviceable. When she took the mountain of cloth to the dry cleaners, they raved about its mint condition. What a coup! Using every picture available, she redecorated each room historically. Her guests would be stepping back into history—a time when the sisterhood had welcomed anxious gentlemen. The find saved her thousands of dollars in decorating the rooms. The Yellow Bordello had to be a tremendous success.
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her neck and another shudder raced up her spine as she remembered what had happened yesterday. She’d placed snowy white sheets and a beautiful lavender lace bedspread on the window seat in the room on the third floor, but before she could finish making up the room, Lex called her to the telephone. When she returned, she found the room finished. Three items she’d not seen before had been added to the room’s décor: lace curtains that matched the bedspread, an oriental rug—its fibers a riot of light lavender, rich purple and white, and a fantastic painting of the hotel on the wall.
After studying the painting, Echo decided it had been painted when the hotel was first built. The huge porch that stretched across the front of the hotel was missing in the painting.
She had to face the facts. The hotel was haunted. She pushed away the eerie feeling bubbling up from deep within her mind. Who would listen if she told them that the house’s unseen occupants were giving her its riches and helping with the redecorating?
She would just start saying “thank you” every time she found another beautiful object given to her by...by her secret friends. Raising her head, she brought the cup to her lips, savoring the smooth flavor of coffee.
“You self-righteous son of a...” a man roared from the direction of the carriage house.
Echo’s eyes snapped open. Rand?
Seconds later, she heard another voice reply, but she couldn’t make out the words. Every non-confrontational part of her wanted to stay in the lounge chair, but she had to know what was going on. The forgotten mug shattered on the granite slab as she bolted upright. Echo’s heart hammered wildly. An anxiety attack approached, drawing near, prowling on silent steps like a lion in the night. Oh, I hate fighting!
She shuddered.
I can manage this...she took a deep, steadying breath, just like I handled all the other frightening situations in my life.
One, two, three! With one tremendous push, Echo propelled herself from the lounge chair and raced across the patio. Rushing around the corner of the building, she saw Rand and another man on the carriage house steps.
A thickset man, his knitted shirt stretching tight across his belly, shouted, “I shouldn’t have allowed you any input at all.” He jabbed his index finger at Randall. “You should be expressing your gratitude to me for managing all the arrangements.”
Rand struck the man’s hand away. “If you do that again, I’ll knock you on your...”
“Randall? Is there a problem?” Echo slowly edged closer to the men, reminding herself to stay calm. At least this was happening today, not tomorrow, during the grand opening.
“Why don’t you mind your own damn business, woman?” the thickset man stepped toward her as he roared.
“That’s enough out of you,” Rand yelled at the man. The cords at the side of his neck bulged and his jaw throbbed. “Go back inside, Echo.”
The stranger turned when Rand grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Echo. His long, matted, and dirty black hair gathered into a curly ponytail at the nape of his neck. It looked too young for a man his age.
The man smirked at her. His dark gaze held her own; an obscene grin played at the corners of his knife-thin lips.
“I’m Paul McGuire.”
Paul McGuire. Wouldn’t you know it? She dug her short fingernails into her palms until she thought they’d puncture the skin. She remembered him from high school as soon as he said his name. Funny, after all these years, he still had the same lust-filled expression he’d had whenever he looked at her back then. Boy, the years hadn’t treated him well. He looked fifty, but she knew he was forty-two—a few years older than she was.
Paul pursued her through her first year in high school, but she refused to date him. He’d had the reputation of being abusive when his dates turned down his sexual advances. She’d preferred the boys who copied modern styles.
Echo’s eyes narrowed. “I wish you’d take your this somewhere else.”
“We will, we will. How about it?” Paul asked Rand. “Let’s go over to my car. We need to get this straight. No need to upset the little lady here.”
Echo repressed a shudder. “Little lady? How dare...”
“Paul, come on. You don’t have to get nasty with Echo. She has every right to complain about our arguing and disrupting her business.” He gave her an apologetic glance and smiled tenderly.
“Oh, I get it. You’re staking a claim to Sage’s most eligible widow. Think she’s hard-up for a man, Rand?”
Lewd. Sickening. Putrid. Repulsive. The words raced through her mind. Paul hadn’t changed a bit. He’d only gotten more gross.
“Shut your filthy mouth!” Rand reached out and pulled Echo closer to him. A jolt of awareness raced through her body. Her heartbeat sped up as she forgot all about Paul’s demeaning tone.
“I’m going inside. It’s been a long day.” Rand’s voice sounded spiritless with fatigue, dragging back Echo’s attention. He picked up his suitcase and, stepping around Paul, opened the carriage house door and motioned for Echo to move ahead of him.
Turning back, he said, “I don’t want you to forget that I’m on to you, Paul. I won’t stop investigating Ann’s death until I find out the truth about what happened.”
Death? A sickening jolt ran through her at Randall’s words. Ann dead?
“You know what happened. I—I tried to save her, but she fought me.” Paul edged closer to Rand.
Echo struggled for breath as she stood between the men. Just having Paul close to her made swallowing difficult. The negativity pouring from him felt like pure evil.
“Stop the mock sincerity, Paul. I don’t believe you. What caused her to panic like that?”
“I’ve told you before, she caught her foot in a rock formation and started struggling to free herself. She was hysterical, Rand.”
Spittle flew across Echo’s cheek as Paul spoke and she had to swallow twice to keep from throwing up on his feet.
“Yeah, right, Paul, I read the medical report. If it really had happened that way, why were there no abrasions on her feet and legs?”
Paul stared at Rand, his eyes filled with hate. “I don’t know!”
The muscles in Rand’s jaw jumped. “You’ll never convince me.” Turning his back on Paul, he stomped into the house, forgetting about Echo.
Echo stood in silence; her eyes locked on Paul McGuire’s face. She’d never seen such light-colored eyes on someone with nearly black hair. Fear imprinted itself against her soul.
Thump, whoosh.
The percussion from the strange sound surrounded her and hammered at her chest causing her to feel hollow like a bass drum in the Fourth of July parade. Recovering her composure slightly, she whispered with a clenched jaw, “I want you to go!”
Paul’s lip curled in a sneer of disgust. She dragged her gaze away from his icy blue, repugnant stare, stepped off the porch, and walked out onto the path leading to the hotel.
~ * ~
A GRAND OPENING? WHAT had possessed her to think of such a thing? Beads of sweat popped up across her brow. She whipped a tissue from a floral box on the antique reservation desk and pressed it to her forehead. Echo paced the entry’s gleaming wood floor. The sound of her clicking heels reverberated off the thick plaster walls and followed her to the front door. The anxiety she felt as she waited for her first customer at The County Seat restaurant reminded her of her miserable attempt at hosting a Tupperware party.
With one finger, she pushed a lace curtain back so she could peer out through the wavy, leaded glass. Still no customers.
A shadow fell across the freshly cut lawn. As the day cooled, the incense of summer rose from the blades of grass and mixed with the sweet aroma of petunias. Two whisky barrel planters, filled to overflowing with the deep pink and white blossoms, sat on each side of the steps that led to the wooden porch. A gentle breeze jostled the sign that read, “Welcome, please enter here.” Echo’s stomach rolled nervously. What if no one came? Smoothing her damp palms across the hipline of her sleeveless black dress, Echo dragged in a deep breath, trying to dispel the anxiety.
Moments ago, she’d watched the extra staff positioned at the back of the dimly lit dining room loitering aimlessly as they waited for something to do. Minutes clicked by in her mind. With each minute, she visualized a huge dollar sign taking its place.
“Are ya worryin’?”
Echo jumped and whirled around toward the voice. “Jer, I didn’t know you were there.
Jerrica wore a long, multicolored skirt and a bright red top. Over the ensemble, she wore a white apron. Echo could see evidence of Jerrica’s nervousness. The woman had twisted the apron into a horribly crumpled mess. “From the looks of it, we’re both exceedingly...”
“Wired?”
“Right on.” Echo laughed lightly, using Jerrica’s vernacular. “I couldn’t have put it any better.”
They turned at the sound of the door opening. Her first customers had arrived. The mayor of Sage, Daniel Hollister, and his wife, Constance. “Talk to you later,” Jerrica whispered to her employer before returning to the kitchen.
Echo gathered two leather-bound menus from the antique secretary desk and removed a red rosebud from a clear vase filled with clear marbles. “I’ll show you to your table.”
“You didn’t ask us if we had a smoking preference,” the woman pointed out, nodding curtly, appearing eager to find fault with anything or anyone handy.
Echo smiled pleasantly, swallowing down what she really wanted to say to snippy Constance. The woman sat on any committee in town that would have her and her snobbish ways.
“Oh, this is a nonsmoking establishment. I wouldn’t dare have smoke filling the antique draperies and furnishings.”
“Oh, I see.” Constance looked around the room.
Gritting back an acid-filled tone, Echo asked, “Is the nonsmoking policy a problem for you? You could sit on the terrace.” She bit back a smile at the slight drop in Constance’s jaw. It was quite apparent by the couple’s dressy attire that they were here to be seen.
“No, no. That’s fine. Neither of us smokes,” the mayor interjected, answering before his wife made the situation worse. “Come along, dear.”
Echo led them into the dining room.
“This is impressive. It’s so... opulent!” Constance cried.
Echo drank in the room's beauty. It never failed to fill her with a sense of accomplishment. When she had first seen the house, this room had been in a state of destruction. She even had to replace the hardwood floor. Strips of wallpaper had hung like tattered leaves after a hailstorm. Enough pattern remained so she could have it duplicated. It had been an expensive decorating decision, but the result couldn’t have been more beautiful. Too bad the floors hadn’t magically restored themselves.
The room glowed with dim lighting. Candles, surrounded by hurricane lamps in the center of each table, gave the room a romantic glow. The shimmering light reflected in the gleaming brass ornamentations decorating the rich jewel tones in the wallpaper. A massive mahogany bar, brought over from England in the late eighteen hundreds, graced one wall of the room. The dining room reflected an old-fashioned elegance, but the passionate colors spoke of the building’s history, leaving no doubt that it had been a house of ill repute.
Echo laid the rose on the table and spoke to the mayor. “I’ll send your server over. Please enjoy your visit. If you’d like, I can schedule a tour of the hotel for you at a later date.”
“Really?” Daniel questioned. “I’ve wondered about asking you. How about I call you sometime next week?”
“That’s fine.” She looked at him. “I’ve converted the ballroom on the fourth floor into conference rooms. If you ever need a meeting place...”
“Now that’s fantastic. How many sleeping rooms do you have?”
“Fifteen,” Echo answered, wondering where the mayor’s questions were heading.
“Sage is hosting the mayor’s conference in a few months. I’ve investigated lodging, but the motels aren’t equipped to manage our needs. This is the only place that has a restaurant and sleeping rooms. Why don’t you get a proposal ready, and I’ll pick that up when I have my tour?”
“Now that should prove interesting,” Constance muttered as she motioned to a server. “Those old cronies will feel right at home in their old haunting ground.”
Echo turned away from the table as Daniel Hollister shot his wife a scathing look. Echo hoped the mayor governed the village of Sage much more effectively than he controlled his sarcastic wife.
Jewel and Magnolia stood at the Hollisters’ table listening to the conversation. As Echo moved away and the server walked up, Jewel looked quizzically at Daniel. “I remember him! He followed me around town as I walked Miss Fire’s Pekingese. Shoot. He was so young and afraid back then.”
“Honey,” Magnolia gushed, “I don’t think he understood the signals. He didn’t know that doggie walkin’ meant that we had new girls at the hotel!”
Jewel nodded, grinning, her curly white hair bobbing around her head. “I finally got him, though.” She ran her tapered finger up the soft skin behind his ear. Daniel reached up and swiped at the tickling sensation, then looked around for the source. “He was, uh, quite a diversion from the old cowboys.”
Magnolia shook her head as she looked at the man in question. “I wonder what happened to him?”
“Need you ask?” Jewel stared at Constance.
“Oh...my...Lord.” Magnolia said quietly.
“What is it, Maggie?” Jewel turned to look past her friend and froze. Her form faded with her anger.
Magnolia reached out and touched Jewel on the arm. The substance of Jewel’s shape became more defined. “You’re not leaving me here by myself. Come on!”
Nearly pulling Jewel across the room, Magnolia wafted closer to an old man standing next to Echo. He had long gray hair, straight as a string, hanging over his western shirt collar. A large belt buckle, the lettering worn from years of use, acted like a girdle holding back his protruding belly. His pale gray eyes nervously darted to the curtain covering the mural of the Angels of the Night.
“Think he’s worried, Jewel?” Magnolia asked, then whispered, “Nasty old bastard.”
“Nasty old bastard, indeed. I detest that man and he oughta be afraid.” Jewel grinned evilly at Magnolia.
Jewel slowly moved a rose toward the edge of the desk, then quickly poked a large thorn into the old man’s backside.
“Ouch! Gawddamnittohell!” the old man roared. “What the fu... sorry, uh, heck was that?”
Echo looked around, seeing nothing that would cause the man’s outburst. “I’m not sure. Are you all right?”
“Yes! Just show me to the bar. I’ll have a couple of drinks while I’m waiting for a table.” He rubbed his backside while swiveling his head looking around the room for some explanation for his pain.
As Echo led the man away, Miss Fire appeared at her daughter’s side. “Jewel! I can’t believe you did that!”
The angry ghost tipped her head back and roared with laughter, causing a breeze to waft through the lobby.
~ * ~
THE DINNER CROWD HAD thinned before Echo had a chance to drop into a chair at her private table hidden in a nook behind the open mahogany stairway that led up to the landing on the second floor.
“There you are, Echo,” Alexis said as she quickly passed the staircase and saw Echo. “Heck of a night, huh?”
Echo smiled softly, motioning at her friend to sit in the heavy chair across from her. “It’s been so busy! And to think I was worried no one would show up at the grand opening. How are the reservations going?”
Alexis poured herself a glass of lemon-flavored ice water and swung her long blonde hair over her shoulder before taking a sip. “All in. Say, I was meaning to ask you about that argument I overheard this afternoon between Randall Halstead and Paul McGuire. I couldn’t make out anything they said from inside this building.”
Echo had expected someone to ask about that awkward situation. For an instant, Rand’s chiseled features filled her mind, causing her heart to race at the thought.
“Ugh. That was strange. As far as I can tell, Rand thinks Paul had something to do with Ann’s death. Isn’t that incredible?”
Alexis’ normally fair complexion paled even more. She squirmed her willowy body in the chair, then leaned toward Echo, her voice a bitter whisper. “Ann’s dead?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but yes, she is. It’s not general knowledge yet. I think we should wait until Paul and Rand are ready to let everyone know. You know small towns—gossip burns through the community like a summer grass fire.”
Lex really looked at her. “She graduated with us.
“She and Randall both. They were twins, remember?”
Lex could barely contain the tears, and her voice sounded tight.
Echo studied Alexis’ face as she looked down at the burgundy-colored tablecloth. When she raised her large blue eyes, big tears threatened to spill over her mascara-covered lashes.
“This is really getting to you, isn’t it?” Echo questioned. Lex needed to talk about this—get her feelings out. “I didn’t realize you knew Ann that well. I remember little about her, as she was so quiet.”
“We’ve kept in touch all these years. Not only was she in our same class, but we also attended the University of Wyoming together—were roommates.” The tears that moments ago had threatened to spill did just that. A soft sob broke free from her throat.
Echo stood up and rounded the table. Kneeling, she placed an arm around her friend’s shoulder and drew Alexis into her embrace. Alexis’ thin shoulders jerked with sobs that wracked her body. “I’m sorry, Lex. So sorry,” Echo said in hushed tones. She brushed back Alexis’ hair from her face and after a moment she asked, “When we learn the date and time of the service, do you want me to go with you?”
Alexis looked up. Her eyes met Echo’s and widened with admiration. “You’d do that for me, after everything you’ve been through?”
Heaven knew she didn’t want to go, but she had to be strong for her friend. “Sure, I would. It has been three years since Jimmy died. High time I got over it, don’t you think?” Echo knew her words sounded stronger than she felt. Her husband’s death had taken a toll on her, even if he had been an abusive asshole. She wondered just how she planned to make it through the funeral.
Alexis wiped the tears off her cheeks with shaking fingers. “Thanks. You’re my dearest friend, and I should have known you would do something thoughtful, like offering to go with me. But right now, I suppose I should get back to the desk. That gorgeous Randall Halstead may need something.” Her tremulous smile brought tears to Echo’s eyes. Why did life have to bring so much pain?
“Oh, by all means, we don’t want him to go without towels or soap or something,” Echo joked. Her facetious words caused Alexis to grin. “He really has changed since high school days. From geek to Greek-god sexy.”
“Um, do you have plans for the man?” Alexis asked quietly.
“Lex! Of course not, but he is really sexy, and nice, too.”
“I knew it. You have that gleam in your eye I haven’t seen for many, many years.”
Echo laughed lightly. “Stop it. Someone may hear us.” She turned her head and saw a man’s shoes at the foot of the stairs.
“Who is that?” Alexis whispered.
“Shhhh. Not now.” Echo moved a little so she could see the rest of the man. She swallowed hard to force down the lump in her throat as Rand Halstead peeked around the banister at them, an enormous grin on his face.
~ * ~
AFTER HIS DINNER OF rare prime rib, Randall strolled out onto the terrace, looking back through the glass doors into the elegant dining room. Echo had outdone herself in the building's restoration. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. So, she thought he looked like—what had she said?—a sexy Greek god. He chuckled softly. Bet she’d wanted to crawl under the table when she’d seen him smiling at her from the stairs.
Taking out a Black Hills gold and silver key holder from his pocket, he unlocked the door and swung it open. Slipping the key holder back into his trouser pocket, he entered the small sitting room directly inside the door. The carriage house had everything he needed: a desk, two leather chairs sandwiching an antique table, and a lamp boasting a fringed lampshade.
Taking off his jacket, Rand walked into the bedroom. The confrontation with Paul had worn him out. He needed solitude and quiet. If he hadn’t been starving, he would have stayed put that evening, but when he’d opened the refrigerator, the sandwich fixings looked unappealing.
Just as well. He’d enjoy eating dinner at the hotel. It would be much better to have a ravenous appetite for the food rather than for his delectable hostess. A wry smile pulled at his lips.
He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed. He lay there for the longest time. Why? Why did Ann have to die, he asked himself, before the barely contained tears rolled down his cheeks.