bell and waited for a minute or so until he heard running footsteps and the door opened. A woman a few years younger than himself stood there panting. She wore black leggings and a purple racer back tank. A stretchy band circled her forehead and kept wispy strands of brown hair from getting in her eyes.
“You caught me midworkout,” she said a little breathlessly. “What can I do for you?”
Subtlety wasn’t in Cody’s nature. He took off his hat and produced what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile. “I’m trying to locate my wife. I was told you might be able to help me.”
The woman looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. Oh, wait, are you one of Nathan’s football coaches? Laci’s husband, maybe?”
“No, Ma’am. My name is Cody. My wife is Cassie Westin. Cassandra. You were a good friend of Cassie’s cousin, Lisa Davis, back in high school. I have a photograph—”
Her thin lips compressed. “I don’t know any of those people,” Emma said, and started to close the door.
He caught it in one hand. “I don’t know what Cassie told you about me and I guess I don’t care. I am simply what you see here in front of you. A slightly burned-out cowboy who wants to wrap this thing up and go home to his dog and ranch where he belongs. Any help you can give me will be deeply appreciated.”
Emma looked into his eyes, started to shake her head, then seemed to reconsider. She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “I have a napping toddler inside, and I need to go pick Nathan up from football practice in about twenty minutes,” she said, as she folded her arms across her chest. “The truth is I promised Cassie I would never, ever tell you where she is but I’ve been worried about her, so I’m breaking my promise.”
The first flush of joy at finally having a solid lead evaporated and he stepped closer. “What do you mean you’ve been worried about her?”
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and stared at him. “You still care about her, don’t you?”
“You want the truth? After six months of being yanked around, I’m not sure how I feel except she’s legally my wife and I don’t want to see any harm come to her.”
“Fair enough,” Emma said. “Okay, this is what I know. Cassie was really strung out when she got here. Someone had stolen her old clunker with her purse and suitcase in the truck, which meant she lost all her clothes and ID and she didn’t want to go to the police. I guess she remembered Lisa telling her I lived here now, so she managed to scrape enough together to call Lisa, and Lisa called me, and I went into town and got her and brought her back to the house.”
“And this was when?”
“About four or five months ago. School had just let out for the summer. Cassie stayed with us a few days but she was restless. She wanted a job, she wanted a life.”
“She had a life back in Woodwind, with me,” Cody said, and wished he hadn’t. He shook his head. “Don’t mind me, I’m just kind of perplexed about all this.”
“Well, what I’m about to say isn’t going to help that much. See, my mother has a distant relative who has a great-aunt, and that great-aunt has a friend who lives in a small town outside of Idaho Falls,” Emma continued. “The old woman was looking for a live-in aide because she doesn’t walk much anymore. She’s quite elderly, but I gather she has more money than she could spend in fifteen lifetimes and intends to live out her days in her mansion. Other relatives live there, too, but the old lady wanted some independence from them. Mom’s friend made a few calls and Cassie got the job. I drove her there myself.”
“That was nice of you,” Cody said woodenly. He took a look around him. This was as close to Cassie as he’d been in months, but it all had a terrible sense of unreality to it. “So, why do you say you’re worried now?”
“Because we worked out that she would call here once a week. Lisa asked her to do that so they didn’t lose touch, especially now, and she thought it would be better to go through me because Lisa is out of the country on work-related trips so often, and Lord knows with two kids, I’m never gone, never. So Cassie just calls and says, ‘I’m fine,’ or something like that. We agreed I wouldn’t call her.”
“And?”
“And Cassie didn’t call this week. So that’s why I’m telling you now where she is. Lisa is in South America for weeks and weeks, so she’s no help.” She bit her lip before adding, “You know, Cassie never said a mean word about you, and she didn’t act like she’d been abused or anything. I’m going to go inside and get you the address. If she’s really mad when you show up, tell her I wouldn’t have broken my word except I’m worried about her. You know, considering everything.”
Without waiting for his response, she slipped back inside the house. Five minutes later she returned, this time with a yawning toddler in her arms and a purse slung over her shoulder. The door clicked shut with a security beep as she handed him what appeared to be her husband’s business card. Greg Kruger, M.D.; a hastily written name and address on the other side of the card was of more interest to Cody:
Vera Priestly
210 Riverside Drive
Cherrydell, Idaho
Chapter Two
Cody arrived in Cherrydell too late to do anything more than drive through a relatively small community built on a river. The downtown area was old but gave the impression it might have become something of a tourist destination with restaurants, boutiques and salons dotting the streets. He made his way to the house where Cassie had apparently spent the past few weeks.
Towering and dark, surrounded by huge trees, the gingerbread Victorian nestled on what appeared to be a half acre of fenced property right on the edge of a river. The rest of the neighborhood was equally scenic, though none of the surrounding houses had such large lots or were half as big.
He drove past twice, wondering if Cassie was in there, wishing it wasn’t too late to ring the bell. For a second or two he thought about rousing the household anyway, demanding to see his wife, but he knew he wouldn’t do it. Showing up on Cassie’s doorstep was going to catch her off guard and no doubt create a scene. Stuff like that was best left for the light of day.
He found himself a motel room a few blocks away and tried reading, but it was no good; the words of the novel barely imprinted themselves on his brain. He finally turned off the light, but then he found himself checking the glowing numbers on the bedside clock every few minutes.
Why hadn’t Cassie checked in with Emma Kruger? The obvious answer was Cassie’s cousin Lisa got wind a detective was asking questions about her. Lisa could have alerted Cassie directly before leaving for South America. If that happened, Cassie would already be gone and he’d be too late.
He awoke at eleven the next morning and bolted out of bed like a horse with a burr under its saddle, appalled he’d overslept on this of all mornings. He took a shower and put on clean clothes while drinking a cup of the coffee he made in his own room. The motel coffee made the stuff he brewed in a pan over a campfire taste like gourmet.
He paused as he picked up the small black box that he’d been carrying in his pocket. Popping open the lid, he studied the contents for a moment, then snapped the lid shut. Leaving it on the dresser, he went back for it at the last moment and slipped it
