you. That’s all there was to it.” He got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. “You want some breakfast? I was thinking maybe I’d make a stack of pancakes.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble for me,” she protested.
He grinned at her. “I’m more than willing to go to that kind of trouble for me.”
She returned his smile. “Well, in that case pancakes sound wonderful.”
Breakfast was pleasant. Sammy entertained with coos and grins as his mother and Dalton ate pancakes and talked. The conversation was marked with a new easiness that he suspected came from the fact that they both saw the end of their confinement together.
She made him laugh as she shared with him funny stories about her grandmother. He noticed that in none of the stories did she mention the older sister she was supposedly on her way to visit, but he didn’t call her on it. Instead he simply enjoyed the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke of the old woman who had raised her.
She might not have graduated high school, but she was smart as a whip. She argued politics with him and spoke easily of current affairs. He had a feeling she would do well no matter what path she chose in life.
The rest of the day passed pleasantly. As Sammy took a late-afternoon nap, Dalton and Jane sat at the table and played poker with toothpicks as chips.
“You’re one heck of a bluffer,” he said after she’d won her third pot.
She laughed. “If you think I’m good, you should play with Nana. She’s the ultimate poker player in the family. In fact, she gets together once a week with some of the other ladies in the trailer park and they tell everyone they’re playing bridge, but they really play poker.”
He laughed, but his laughter was cut short by a knock on his door. “Sit tight. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” She cast him a grateful look as he got up from the table.
It was probably one of his other brothers coming to check in on him. He’d have to play the sick card again. Hopefully he could bluff as well as Jane when it came to fooling his family members.
He pulled open the door to see a burly, dark-haired man he’d never seen before standing there. He wore the khaki pants and coat of law enforcement. “Yes?”
“Dalton West?”
“Yeah, I’m Dalton.”
“I’m Sheriff Brandon Sinclair from over in Sandstone. I hate to bother you, but I’m looking for a woman named Janette Black. She’s traveling with a baby and I have reason to believe she might have come here.” His gaze went over Dalton’s shoulder, as if trying to see inside the apartment.
Dalton tensed but offered the man a frown of confusion. “There’s no woman or baby here,” he said. “What makes you think she’d come to me? I’ve never heard of this Janette Black before.” That part, at least, was true. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Jane was really Janette.
“She stole money from the café where she worked and when we went to find her just before the storm hit we discovered more serious crimes. Her grandmother has been murdered and Janette is a person of interest. Your name and phone number were on a piece of paper next to the old woman’s bed, so we thought maybe she’d come here.”
“Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Dalton’s head whirled with the information Sheriff Sinclair had just given him. What in the hell was going on?
Sinclair studied him for a long moment, then held out a card. “If you see her, or if she tries to make contact with you, give me a call. She’s dangerous, Mr. West. She needs to be behind bars.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dalton said. He murmured a goodbye, then closed his door. He waited until he heard the sound of the sheriff’s boots going back down the stairs, then he went into the kitchen.
Janette sat at the table, her face devoid of all color. As she stared at him a deep, wrenching sob ripped from the back of her throat. “He killed Nana. First he raped me, and now he’s killed Nana,” she cried.
She jumped up from the chair. “I’m—I’m going to be sick.” She ran for the bathroom as Sammy began to cry.
Chapter 5
Janette stood in the bathroom fighting not only an all-encompassing grief, but wave after wave of nausea, as well. Just hearing his deep voice had made her ill. Knowing he’d been on the other side of the door had sickened her.
He’d found her.
He’d said he found a notepad with Dalton’s name and number next to Nana’s bed. There was no way Nana would have willingly given him that information. Oh God, she must have died trying to protect Janette and Sammy.
Blinded by her tears, she leaned weakly against the wall and wondered if it were possible to die of grief. She felt as if she were dying. Her heart felt as if it might explode at any moment.
Nana was dead.
Nana was dead.
Never again would Janette feel Nana’s arms around her, never again would she see the old woman’s eyes shining with love, her wrinkled face wreathed with laughter.
And Janette was wanted for her murder. That’s how he would get Sammy. He’d see her tried for a murder she hadn’t committed. She’d spend the rest of her life in prison, and Brandon Sinclair would have her precious boy. And her nana, the woman who had meant the world to her, was dead.
“Janette?” Dalton knocked on the door.
She sucked in air, trying to staunch the deep sobs that ripped through her. She didn’t want to face him, was afraid that he might believe all the horrible things that Sinclair had said. And if he did believe Sinclair, there was nothing to stop him from contacting the lawman and letting him know she was here.
“Janette, come on out. We need to talk.” His voice held a quiet command.
She grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped at her eyes, at her nose, then tossed the tissues into the trash. But she was reluctant to open the door, afraid to face him. What if she told him the truth and he didn’t believe her? She didn’t think she could handle it.
“Janette, you can’t stay in there all night.”
He was right. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom. She opened the door. He no longer held Sammy, but as she stepped out of the bathroom Dalton opened his arms to her. She walked into them as tears of rich, raw grief began to flow again.
His strong arms surrounded her, and they felt like shelter from a world that had been terrifying for a very long time. She cried into the front of his shirt, wondering how she was going to survive without Nana’s loving support.
After several minutes, Dalton released her and led her to the sofa. Sammy was once again on his blanket on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as if fascinated by the patterns the late-afternoon sunshine made as it drifted through the window.
Dalton sat next to her, his features inscrutable. “The truth, Janette. I need to
