to prove, didn't you?'
'I guess. I suppose I wanted B. K. Stanton to know I was going to college, that no matter what I'd come from, I was going to be somebody.'
'You had a lot of mixed emotions about your father, didn't you?'
'I hated him. Plain and simple.' Reece stood, stretching, exercising his muscles.
'Did you hate him enough to kill him?'
Reece turned sharply, glaring at Elizabeth. 'I thought you believed me, believed that I didn't murder him?'
'I do believe you.'
'Then why ask me if I hated him enough to kill him?' Reece walked to the windows, staring out at the sunshine spreading over the snow, glistening on the velvety white surface as if it were scattering crushed diamond particles everywhere it touched.
'What happened when you returned to Newell after the marines?' She should have known he'd been in the marines. Sam had been a marine. Reece Landry and Sam Dundee shared some common traits.
'I went to college, worked at Stanton Industries in my old job as a machine operator to help supplement Uncle Sam's financial aid. When I got my B.S. degree the old man offered me an office job. That's when I got to know the rest of the family.'
'Your father's other children?'
'Yeah, my big brother, Kenny, the heir apparent, and my sister, Christina. Kenny and I hated each other on sight. I liked Christina, and she liked me. She's the one who hired a lawyer for me when I was arrested for the old man's murder.'
Elizabeth longed to put her arms around Reece, to offer him the care and support he'd never known. But she knew he wouldn't accept her comfort right now.
'Your sister believed you were innocent?' Elizabeth asked.
'She wanted to believe I didn't kill our father, but she had her doubts. I could tell every time she looked at me, she was wondering if I'd done it.'
'Why did the sheriff arrest you? What evidence did they have against you?'
He glanced at Elizabeth and suddenly realized how much he wanted her to believe him. 'The gun was mine. I'd reported the .38 stolen a couple of days before somebody used it to kill the old man. They didn't find any fingerprints. Whoever used it had wiped the gun clean. And the usual paraffin test for powder residue was inconclusive because my hands had been covered with dried blood.'
'Motive and weapon. You hated your father and the gun that killed him was yours.'
'That's right, only there's more. B.K.'s wife, Alice, and the family lawyer found me leaning over my father's body with blood all over my hands and the gun at my side.'
'Oh, Reece.' She touched him then, unable to prevent herself. He tensed at her touch, but when she hugged up against him, he relaxed and slipped his arm around her waist.
'B.K. had called and asked me to come to his home. He said he had something important to tell me. When I arrived, the front door was standing wide open, so I walked in. I called out. B.K. told me to come on back to the study. Then I heard my father arguing with someone, but I couldn't make out the other voice. Couldn't even tell if it was male or female. B.K. was shouting, saying he could do whatever he damned well pleased, that nobody could tell him what he could and couldn't do.
'Before I reached the study I heard gunshots. I rushed inside and someone hit me from behind. They didn't knock me unconscious, but everything went black for a few minutes and I was pretty shaken up. I didn't see who had hit me. When my vision cleared, I staggered over to where B.K. lay on the floor. He was bleeding like a stuck hog. I knelt down, covering his stomach wound with my hands. He called my name. And then he died.'
Elizabeth held Reece in her arms, trying to absorb some of his pain, longing for him to accept what she offered, knowing he had never shared as much of himself with another human being.
'Motive, weapon, opportunity.' Elizabeth sighed. 'They didn't believe you, of course, about the person who hit you over the head. And the authorities never looked for another suspect.'
'Brother Kenny and his mother had their lawyer, Willard Moran, use all the influence the Stanton family had in Newell, and believe me, it was plenty. I spent five months in that damned little jail cell, feeling like a trapped animal, knowing I was doomed.'
Elizabeth held him. He hugged her fiercely.
'During the trial my lawyer pointed out that if I'd shot B.K., I'd have hardly had time to wipe the gun clean before Alice and Willard found me. And there was no proof that I'd actually fired the gun. I was convicted on circumstantial evidence.'
'The Stantons must be very powerful to possess that much control over the sheriff's department and the district attorney.'
'The Stantons own Newell, and if the Stantons say I killed B.K., then the town has no choice but to agree.'
'You were framed,' Elizabeth said.
'You do believe me, don't you?'
'Yes, of course I do. Did you think I wouldn't?'
He buried his face in her shoulder, breathing her sweet rose scent, accepting her loving warmth as she held him.
Abruptly she pushed him away. The sense of loss overwhelmed him.
'O'Grady! My God, Reece, go upstairs and wait. O'Grady will be here in a few minutes.'
'How the hell do you know...' Reece grinned. 'I've got to get used to this sixth sense of yours.'
'When O'Grady leaves, I want to talk to you about our calling Sam to help us,' Elizabeth said.
'No way. This guy may be your step-uncle, your family and friend, but I don't know him from Adam.'
'Sam will help us.'
'I said no.' Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. 'Understand me, Lizzie. I don't want you calling Sam Dundee.'
'You can trust him.'
'I don't trust anybody, lady, you should know that by now.'
'Even me, Reece?'
He hesitated momentarily. 'I'm not sure, Elizabeth. I want to trust you, but-'
The sound of a horn alerted Elizabeth to the fact that O'Grady had arrived. 'Go upstairs and stay there until I come and get you.'
Reece followed her instructions, and Elizabeth opened the front door, stepping out into the frosty wind, waving at O'Grady as he exited the passenger side of his grandson's Ford Explorer. An eighteen-year-old Rod O'Grady waved at Elizabeth but made no move to leave the warmth of his vehicle. The deafening
Elizabeth gave O'Grady a big hug, then rushed him inside to the warmth of her cabin. 'I told Aunt Margaret that there was no need for you to come all the way up here with the roads so bad.'
Elizabeth motioned MacDatho out of the open doorway, then closed the front door.
'You know Margaret. She got one of her notions. Thought somebody was up here with you.' O'Grady glanced around the hallway before venturing into the living room. 'There's an escaped convict on the loose. I think hearing about the man sent Margaret's imagination into overdrive.'
'Did you say there's an escaped convict around Dover's Mill?' Elizabeth asked.
'Reece Landry. Young fellow. Killed a guy down in Newell. Escaped after the sheriff's car took a bad spill off the road and into the side of a mountain near Deaton Crossing.'
'Are you staying long enough for coffee?' Elizabeth nodded in the direction of the kitchen.
'No, child, I can't stay. Rod's itching to get back home. Got a date tonight, I guess. He's been cooped up during the storm.'
'Are the authorities looking for this Landry man?'
'They used bloodhounds, but didn't have much luck. They figure the guy's probably frozen to death in the
