Chapter 14

Who’s here?” came a deep voice. The intruder still wasn’t all the way inside the door, but I could tell whoever it was didn’t wear the uniform of a police officer. In fact, he was wearing a suit coat, and some of the most dangerous criminals I’d encountered cloaked themselves in expensive suits that hid a world of sins.

I rushed from the side, sprinting along the window. In a fluid motion, I chopped down on the arm with the gun, sending it to the ground. I had only a second to be grateful it didn’t fire, before grabbing the man’s arm, pulling him and leaning forward so I could roll him over my back and onto the floor. He was taller and heavier, but I had training and the element of surprise.

I just hoped he was alone.

I jumped on him, making a fist to deliver a blow, when I recognized the man. He lay there, eyes wide with fear. I hesitated. “Mr. Taylor?”

Recognition dawned. “You!”

“Autumn Rain,” I said.

He struggled under me. Before I’d come to the cabin tonight, I would have been safe and hit him anyway, but the imprints hadn’t indicated that he was dangerous.

“Wait.” I jumped off him, picked up his gun, and stepped away. “Okay, you can get up now.”

He swore, his fear turning to anger. “What are you doing in my cabin?”

I couldn’t answer. Grabbing the gun without a glove or using a piece of cloth hadn’t been the smartest thing I’d ever done. An imprint rippled over my consciousness.

The lights were on. Who was in the cabin? The police should have long gone. She didn’t have the right to allow the police to come here looking for Rosemary. He/I hated the idea of anyone violating a place that had been his family’s haven. The memory of the children growing up here was precious. He/I had loved walking through the woods and talking to them, teaching them. They’d listened then. This had been the happiest place. Nothing had intruded.

Must be a burglar. But what if Rosemary had come here? Maybe she was hiding in the secret room. Wait. Or maybe someone had taken Rosemary and was holding her hostage. Maybe they wanted a ransom. Careful now. I didn’t want to shoot Rosemary. For all the pain she’d given me, I didn’t want her hurt.

I didn’t want her hurt.

Another imprint, an older one, followed. Pleasure at hitting the paper target. The imprint faded.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved the gun in my coat pocket before more imprints could come. It was a large gun, a .45, and the hilt stuck out of my pocket and would have even if I hadn’t placed it on top of the Ruger.

Mr. Taylor stared at me. “Are you listening? I want to know what you’re doing here. And give me back my gun.”

I took another step back, prepared to defend myself if necessary. He was bigger, but I was younger and better trained. “I’m here with the police,” I said. “Detective Shannon Martin came to check out the place himself. That’s his car out there. Unmarked police vehicle.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I have better taste in cars,” I retorted. Truth was, I couldn’t afford that Mustang if I’d wanted it. “Detective Martin will be back in a minute. In fact, let me give him a call.” I fished in my other pocket for my phone, but it had no service.

Great. I was alone with a man who was a suspect, if not for Rosemary’s disappearance, then maybe for Cheyenne’s death, and I had no phone service. Some smart phone it turned out to be. At least I had the guns—for the moment.

“The question is,” I said, “what are you doing here?”

“What? It’s my cabin.”

“That your wife gave us permission to search. You almost never come up here. Why tonight?” It was barely seven-thirty, so he must have come directly here after work. “We’re investigating your daughter’s disappearance and a murder, so anything you do is of interest.”

“Judith told me she’d given the police permission to come here. Look, can we sit down? It’s been a long day.”

I nodded. “You take the love seat.”

He obeyed reluctantly, poorly concealing irritation at being told what to do on his own property. I moved toward the window, taking out my phone again. Ah, service here. I pushed Shannon’s number and sent a text: visitor.

Sitting down on a wooden chair that had no sheet cover, I indicated that Mr. Taylor should continue.

“I was angry at first, but then I started thinking that maybe Rosemary had come here. She knows it well. There are places she can hide.”

“You’re angry that she might be pulling a joke on you.”

He blinked. “Maybe I was, but she’s not really like that. She’s always frank about things. I taught her that.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

“There is a place here she might be.”

“We found the playroom.”

Disappointment touched his face.

“The police who were here earlier didn’t find it,” I clarified. “But Detective Martin is thorough. By the layers of dust, no one’s been in there for years.” I waited a few breaths before saying, “Tell me what happened at the theater. Please.” I added this last to make it seem like a request, though truthfully, I was nearly ready to pull his own gun on him and force him to spill the information. “We need to find her. The smallest thing could be important.” Sometime during my search of the cabin and experiencing the imprints on his gun, he had fallen in my list of suspects. Not completely off it but almost as far down as the producer Walsh.

Shannon appeared in the doorway that opened into the kitchen. He had his gun ready, but he relaxed when he saw I had the situation in hand. He stayed silent, waiting, and I was glad he knew when to keep quiet. If I needed additional pressure, he could step forward, but maybe Barry Taylor would be willing to talk with me now that he wouldn’t lose face around his family—or anyone else.

“I went to that theater,” he began. “That dive. She’d told me she wanted to see me, and I agreed to meet her, but I didn’t know it was there. I thought she wanted to come home and would be ready to come on my terms. But there she was, sitting at a vanity brushing her hair, and I knew right away that she had no intention of leaving.”

I perked up at the mention of a brush. “Was anyone else in the room?”

“A brunette. She was standing over by the wall. I could only see part of her since half of her was hidden by the vanity. She said something like, ‘Maybe you should listen to the note. Maybe it’s serious.’ But Rosemary exploded. She said no one was going to take this chance from her, that she was finally going to Broadway. Rosemary turned and saw me then, but before either of us said anything, the girl rushed up to her and grabbed the brush from Rosemary’s hand, throwing it down on the vanity.”

I leaned forward. “Did she say anything?”

“She said a lot of people had been waiting for that chance and that it wasn’t fair for Rosemary to waltz in and take it away.”

“Away from her?”

“That’s the impression I got. Then she saw me. She told Rosemary they’d talk later and stomped from the room.”

“Did Rosemary tell you about the role?”

He shook his head. “Not directly. She told me she’d seen her grandparents, that they were wonderful people, and that they’d been the ones to tell her about this company and the connection the producer had with a relative on Broadway. She said they believed she was good enough to make it.”

I imagined that didn’t go over well. “What did you say to that?”

“I told her what she did was an embarrassment to our family and that she should come home and get a decent education.”

“And?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. She turned her back on me and started to leave the room.” He hesitated.

“That was when you pulled her hair?”

He stared down into his hands. “I didn’t mean to. I tried to grab her shoulder, but she was too fast.”

Show some respect for once in your life—or I’ll make you show it! he’d said. I remembered the scene well from the imprint on the princess rock.

“Did she stop?”

“No. She whirled around to face me. One hand was in the pocket of her jeans, and I remember how frightened she looked. I—I let go, and she turned and left. I followed her, but that other girl was in the hall, and she ducked behind her. She yelled at me to leave. So I did.” No emotion showed on his face, but his broad shoulders drooped. “I haven’t seen or heard from her again.”

Shannon pushed off the door frame where he’d been resting. “Do you know who the other woman was?”

Taylor started slightly, but he met Shannon’s gaze and answered. “Yes. I saw her in the newspaper this morning. She’s the one they found dead.”

My mind whirled with these new developments. Because of the imprints I’d experienced here, I believed Mr. Taylor, though I still disliked him. I could be wrong.

“Your son thinks you had something to do with Rosemary’s disappearance,” I said, fishing for a reaction.

He blinked. “What?”

“Maybe your wife does, too.”

“I had nothing to do with it! I’ve told you everything.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see.” I wanted to go on, to tell him what a jerk he was for cutting his in-laws from his children’s lives, from his wife’s, but it wouldn’t matter. They had to find the same backbone Rosemary had found before things could ever be right in that family. The only way I could help them was to find her.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Shannon said. He knew how to walk the walk when he needed to, but I nearly screamed at the fake politeness. I shut my eyes to hide the emotion, feeling abruptly exhausted—and also feeling that I was missing something.

“Are you finished here?” Mr. Taylor said.

Shannon nodded and handed him the key. “We were supposed to give it to the neighbors, but since you’re here, you might as well take it.”

I stood and pulled my coat sleeve over my hand before retrieving Mr. Taylor’s gun and giving it to him. I really needed to buy new gloves. Shannon’s eyes widened at the sight of the .45, but I gave him a smile and preceded him to the door.

Back in the Mustang, Shannon drove down the road and parked. “What are we doing?” I asked.

“Just want to see what Mr. Taylor does now.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“I never believe anyone. Not fully.”

He’d better not be talking about me. “If he’s telling the truth, Cheyenne might be the last person to have seen Rosemary alive.”

“How inconvenient that Cheyenne is dead.”

I snorted. “Makes for a stronger argument that the cases are connected.”

“We’ve known that was likely all along. But connected doesn’t mean the same perp.”

“No.” I sighed. “Did the crime people find anything on Cheyenne’s body? Something I might be able to get an imprint from?”

“They should be finished processing everything in the morning or after lunch at the latest, but it was pretty much just what you saw on Saturday.”

“Well, she was wearing some jewelry I could read, and a costume. A lot of the costumes at the theater have some kind of an imprint. They aren’t like regular clothes, but even those hold an imprint if the experience is potent enough.”

Shannon scowled, and I felt my stomach clench, not at his expression but at what I’d said. We both knew dying created very strong imprints. “I was hoping you wouldn’t have to do that.”

I shrugged. “So was I.”

Minutes ticked by as we sat in silence. I looked over to find him watching me with those eyes that stole my breath. All at once my exhaustion vanished, and my nerves hummed with anticipation.

“Autumn,” he said, his voice sounding gruff and unused, though we’d just been talking. “At the theater when we were alone in the kitchen . . .”

The moment I’d been waiting for. Maybe. “Yeah?”

Another ten painful seconds passed before he reached for me and I for him. My stomach rumbled, but I ignored it. He didn’t. “Are you always hungry?”

“Pretty much.” I grinned, my eyes going to his lips. It was time.

A revving engine broke our concentration. Shannon glanced toward the cabin. “Looks like he’s leaving.”

“Means he’s telling the truth then. At least about Rosemary.”

“Maybe.” Shannon sighed and started his engine. “We should follow to make sure.”

“I thought you weren’t on duty.”

He gave me a faint smile. “You’ll never forgive me if we don’t do everything we can to find her. Or yourself.”

He was probably right. I still had nightmares over our first case together and the little girl we’d found too late.

As we followed Taylor, my heartbeat eventually returned to normal, and the exhaustion crept in again. I fell into a doze and wasn’t aware of anything until we pulled in front of my long-closed shop where I’d left my car.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Shannon said.

“Taylor?”

“He went straight home. Which is what you should do.”

I was awake enough to feel disappointment and exhausted enough that it must have shown in my face. He reached over and touched my chin, turning me to face him. “Unfortunately, we’re not alone.” His eyes went to the Herb Shoppe where the lights were still on. Through the glass front, I could see Jake walking to the door. That was enough to bring me back to my senses. I couldn’t hurt Jake, not here, not like this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll come to the station.”

“I’ll check on the vic’s clothes. What time would be good?”

“I’m not sure. Can I let you know? Maybe early afternoon. Tawnia and I have an appointment.”

He lifted a questioning brow.

“With our biological grandmother,” I conceded. “But Rosemary’s disappearance is more important, so let me know if they clear things early.”

“Okay.”

I slid from the car and into the rain. Wearily, I tugged on my hood, already missing the fluffy snowflakes at the cabin.

Shannon dipped his head toward me before driving away.

Jake emerged from his shop, locking the door behind him. “I thought that was you. I was just going to call. See if you were up for something tonight.”

“What are you doing here so late?” Not waiting for me, I hoped. Knowing him as well as I did, I bet he wanted to ask about Shannon but wouldn’t because he’d promised to be patient.

“Inventory. I had nothing else to do, and it’s overdue. Guess what? We got a little busy this afternoon, so I called Thera in, and she had a successful hour or two in your shop.”

“Good.” For sure I’d have to go on another antiques hunting excursion this weekend. I’d missed last week.

“Have you been reading imprints?”

“Yeah. They weren’t bad, but there were a lot. It’s been a long day.” I briefly ran down what I’d been doing, including the glass burglar, Tawnia’s new role in the play, and what had happened at the cabin. I left out Mr. Taylor’s gun because Jake was in the same club as Shannon, wanting to protect me. Besides, I hadn’t added even one more bruise to my collection tonight. I felt more guilty leaving out what had almost happened between Shannon and me. It was crazy. I’d grown to trust Shannon and at some level to want to be with him, but when I was with Jake, our long friendship was everything. No wonder Shannon was frustrated with me.

Not that he’d pushed.

Maybe I wanted him to. I’d meant what I said when I needed to experience firsthand the options. I wasn’t the kind to live on dreams. Actions were what I believed in.

“Well, everything’s locked up now,” Jake said. “Would you rather me drive you home? Wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”

“No, I’m fine.” Actually, I was starving since I’d missed dinner, but if I mentioned that he’d feel obligated to feed me. “Thanks for taking care of everything. I owe you.” I hugged him.

“How about dinner tomorrow?”

“Can we play it by ear? I may have to be at the theater with Tawnia. No way am I leaving her there alone. Something’s not right at that place.”

His brow scrunched, and I could tell he was considering my being at the theater at all. I wasn’t waiting around for his objections. I put a jaunty note in my voice. “See you tomorrow, Jake.”

I hurried to my car, feeling his eyes on me. Part of me wanted to turn back and ask him to come home with me so we could make dinner together as we had so many times before. I wouldn’t mind the company, but having him there might make my choices more difficult, especially as tired and vulnerable as I was feeling after my almost encounter with Shannon. No, being alone with him now was definitely not a good idea.

I was halfway home when my cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID before putting in my earphone and answering. “Hello?”

“Autumn, thank heaven you picked up.” Tawnia sounded frantic, which was so far from her norm that I was instantly alert.

“What’s wrong? Is it Destiny?”

“Someone just called my cell. It was a threat! They told me I had to quit the play or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Just ‘or else.’ What more needs to be said? Good grief, Autumn, this is your forte, not mine. I’m scared! There’s no name or anything on the caller ID. Just a number.”

“I’ll be right there,” I said. “Keep the doors locked.”