Chapter Fourteen

Having closed its doors sometime in the early nineteen seventies, the American West Gallery was located in the former Prosperity movie theatre and had been magnificently renovated in the past year. Now decorated in art deco style, Taylor felt right at home when she stepped through the front door.

After a few minutes of meandering around the large space and admiring the contemporary art and sculpture on display, she was joined by a woman wearing a brightly colored caftan. Her golden hair, kinked into tight ringlets, resembled a helmet on her head. Her wrists tinkled with many metal bracelets, and she wore patchouli perfume, which Taylor associated with flower children because of several women she knew in L.A. who wore patchouli and could only be described as modern-day hippies.

“Good morning. Do you have any questions about the art?” the woman asked.

Taylor smiled. “It’s a beautiful gallery you have here.”

“Thank you. It took a lot of fundraisers and getting a ton of licenses and approvals to renovate, but I think it’s finally paying off. Word is spreading to the outlying communities and we’re starting to get some wonderful artists in to exhibit their unique work.” She extended her hand to shake. “My name is Sage, the owner. And before you ask, Sage is my legal and only name.”

Taylor pumped her hand in a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Taylor Young.”

The expression on Sage’s face answered Taylor’s first question, which was going to be if she knew her sister. “I’m Jamie’s older sister,” she informed her.

“I’m happy to meet you. I still can’t believe she’s gone,” Sage said with sincerity. “Jamie was two weeks away from exhibiting her photos here.”

“My mother told me. Where are the photos?”

“They’re in storage upstairs. I contacted Mr. Banner, but he’s never come to pick up the work.”

“Really? I would have thought my mother would insist on having Jamie’s photographs at home.”

A drop of perspiration dampened Sage’s brow. “I was planning on contacting them again very soon. I thought I’d give them a little more time…to grieve. I didn’t want to be a nuisance.”

Taylor noticed she was wringing her hands—the sign of nervous energy. It occurred to her that Sage might have been keeping Jamie’s photos on purpose. Maybe she’d been planning to take advantage of the scandal and profit off Jamie’s photos when the time was right. Normally, Taylor was not a suspicious person, but she had to think like a detective and suspect everyone who had anything to do with Jamie, if she was going to catch her murderer.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I see the photos?” she asked.

Sage hemmed and hawed. “Uh. Well. Sure. Let me lock the front door and I’ll take you up. I’m the only one here at the moment.”

Taylor waited while Sage fished a set of keys from the pocket of her caftan and glided to the front of the building and locked the door. “Follow me,” she said, leading the way into a hallway and up a short flight of stairs that opened into what was formerly the projector room. With the flick of a switch, the room was bathed in light. “Here they are.” Sage swept her hand over more than a dozen framed photos sitting on the floor and propped against the wall.

“Why aren’t they wrapped?”

“Jamie brought them wrapped, but she and I took off the papers while we were deciding which pieces would go into the exhibit. I haven’t had time to rewrap them. I was planning to—”

Taylor interjected, completing her sentence. “As soon as my parents were ready to pick them up.”

“That’s correct.”

Taylor knelt and carefully sorted through the photos that had obviously been taken on and around the ranch. She viewed each one with a wondrous eye. There were images of the ranch horses, cattle, trees, Fish Creek, panoramas of mountains, sunrises and sunsets, wire and fence posts, the entrance to a cave, still life of cowboy boots, a gray cat, architectural details of the barn, their old tire swing, and even pictures of the Slash Y ranch hands in various poses. Charlie Keller’s bashful smile filled one frame. Dash Bullion and two other wranglers had been snapped roping and branding calves. Others were shown riding colts and bucking broncos, stacking hay and brushing their mounts.

Taylor’s heart flew into her throat when she came across a photo of Brett, sitting on top of his paint horse, Bill, tipping his hat at the camera. His smile sparkled back at her, and his playful attitude was captured perfectly.

Another picture showed him sitting on the ground leaning against a saddle in a sexy pose with his legs bent and his Stetson shading his eyes. And a third was of him standing in front of the foreman’s cabin holding the same gray cat Taylor had seen in another piece. He was wearing different shirts in all the pictures.

Brett had said he didn’t know Jamie well. If they weren’t well acquainted, why had he posed for her at least three times? They must have talked and gotten to know one another somewhat during those sessions. But he’d made it sound like he barely knew her.

Had he lied about having a relationship with Jamie? Or had it strictly been business? Obviously, Brett’s good looks and great body made for perfect model material. Still, Taylor didn’t like being lied to, even if it was by omission. After the way Brett flirted with her last night, the thought of him and Jamie together made her more than a little uncomfortable. Even so, there was no denying Jamie had an eye for capturing her subject matter in a beautiful and artistic way.

“She really had talent,” Taylor mumbled, momentarily forgetting Sage was still in the room.

“I was very much looking forward to exhibiting your sister’s work. It’s such a shame no one will get to experience her gift.”

It sounded strange to hear someone praising Jamie for possessing a gift for something other than causing havoc. And to think that talent involved photography, just like her…

Taylor should have felt perturbed that Jamie had, once again, taken something that belonged to her and made it her own. She’d been angry with her for so long for that very thing. But oddly enough, those feelings seemed to have dissipated somewhat since making up with Mama and “seeing” Jamie in her spirit form. No matter how upset she’d been with her, Taylor never would have wanted her sister to have suffered at the hands of a murderer. Maybe it was time to let go once and for all.

An idea sparked and steadily caught flame as Taylor sorted through the last of the photos. She turned to Sage. “Why don’t you go ahead with the show?”

Sage’s eyes enlarged. “You know, I had considered that possibility. But since I hadn’t heard from Mr. or Mrs. Banner, I let the idea drop. Would you be willing to talk to them about it? I really would like the community to see Jamie’s work.”

“Sure. I’ll see what they think.” Taylor stood up. “Let me ask you a question. Did my sister seem excited about the exhibit?”

“Excited? She was over the moon with anticipation. She wanted to be involved in every step of the process. That’s why it’s so unfortunate she never got to see her dream come true.”

It looked like Mama was right—about this part of Jamie’s life, at least. “Thank you for letting me look at these,” Taylor said. “If you don’t mind keeping them for a while longer, I’ll speak to my mother and stepfather and get their opinions on whether to go ahead with a show and get back to you.”

As soon as Sage led Taylor downstairs and they said goodbye, Taylor’s cell phone rang. Stepping outside, she glanced at the I.D. and didn’t recognize the number. “Hello. Taylor Young speaking.”

“How are ya?” Hearing Brett’s smooth drawl evoked the same feelings of desire she’d experienced last night. But a slow burn sizzled inside at wondering why he’d lied to her about Jamie. “How did you get this number?” she said, unable to squelch a small smile.

“A little birdie gave it to me.”

“By any chance, could that little birdie’s name be Nancy?”

“Could be.”

His warm chuckle was music to her ears, despite her mild irritation.

“Your mother told me you went to town early. Did you speak to Rick Tavares?”

“Yes. I squeezed a couple of interesting tidbits out of him.”

“Such as?”

“Jamie’s boyfriend was with another woman the night she died. And I have the woman’s name.”

“So you can check him off your suspect list. I suppose you’re going to talk to the other woman?”

“I’m not checking him off my list yet, but of course I’m going to speak to her, if I can find her. Brett, you referred to the sheriff as Rick just now. Do you know him personally?”

“Yeah. I shoot pool with him once in a while.”

“Oh.” She didn’t see any reason to inform him that Tavares had asked her out. Being acquainted with the sheriff was something else Brett hadn’t revealed yesterday when she’d mentioned coming to see him today. Why? “I just left the art gallery and the owner confirmed that Jamie was looking forward to her first exhibit,” she told him. She paused. “You didn’t tell me she’d taken photos of you.”

“I guess I forgot,” Brett said after a moment’s hesitation.

“But we talked about Jamie and her photos yesterday. You could have mentioned you’d been one of her models.”

He visibly sighed. “That information didn’t seem important at the time.”

Taylor tried to tamp down the annoyance that was building. She spied a pay phone on the corner and walked toward it. She wanted to look in the phone book to see if Patty Hanson was listed. “If you and Jamie had a fling, you can tell me. I don’t care what she—or you—did together.” Inwardly, Taylor cursed herself because she knew her wavering voice betrayed the way she really felt.

After a brief pause, wherein Taylor began thumbing through the phone book looking for the name Hanson, Brett said, “I should have told you about the photos. Once I knew what she and your ex had done to you, I thought it better not to mention that Jamie and I were acquainted. But I swear that’s all it was. From the little she told me about her personal life, she and Adam Echo Hawk were getting pretty serious. Anyway, she took photos of all of us on the ranch, not just me.”

“I know that,” Taylor confessed, feeling her pulse still thrumming.

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.”

There was a pause and then he said, “I apologize for not being upfront with you. I promise I won’t goof up again. I want you to trust me, Taylor. In case you couldn’t tell, I like you.”

Her finger had been trailing down the names starting with “H” in the white pages. It stopped on the name Patty Hanson. She smiled at his admission, realizing she’d jumped to conclusions. “I like you, too, Brett.”

“Good. That’s a relief. I was hoping this wasn’t one-sided.”

She scribbled Patty’s number and address in her notepad and started striding back to where her car was parked. “It’s not one-sided,” she assured and could almost feel his smile through her cell phone. “I just found Adam Echo Hawk’s former girlfriend’s address in the phone book. I’m going there now.”

“Okay. Be careful. She might not take too kindly to a visit from Jamie’s sister.”

“I’ll watch myself.”

“See you back at the ranch later. You can tell me how it went.”

“All right. Bye, Brett.”

“Oh, by the way,” he said, before disconnecting. “For the record, I never invited Jamie, or any other woman, back to my room.”

At that confession, electric volts of pleasure practically short-circuited her system.