the receptionist told her she was wanted on line three. She picked up the receiver.
“Melissa Dalton speaking.”
“This is Travis Stillman.”
“Thanks for calling me, Mr. Stillman. Where is Casey right now?”
“In the kitchen eating lunch with the housekeeper. He’s using her and Dexter to retrieve those disks.”
She laughed softly. “From what I saw this morning, he should be picking them up himself. In my professional opinion he has healed beautifully. So why did he cling to the crutches until you brought him to the clinic?”
“Let me give you a bit of background first. Until fifteen months ago, I was a Texas Ranger living with my wife and son in Fort Davis, Texas.”
A Texas Ranger. In Melissa’s mind, Texas Rangers were legendary, and he fitted her image of one exactly.
“On my last case,” he went on, “I went after a gang in a brutal racial slaying. I caught up with two of them, but a third one eluded me. They were known as the McClusky brothers. Soon after their capture, the third brother, Danny McClusky, murdered my wife in cold blood while she was driving home from the grocery store. It was a revenge killing. Thankfully, Casey was still at school.”
His revelation stopped her cold. “I—I can’t imagine anything so horrifying,” she stammered. “Is that killer still free?”
“Yes. He’s on the FBI’s most wanted list. They’ll get him in time.”
“How do you live with that?”
“Not so well. Two other times during my career, my wife and son were threatened. After I buried her, I decided enough was enough, and resigned from the Texas Rangers. Casey needs me too much.”
“He’s so lucky you’re still alive!” she said, before she realized how emotional she sounded. She knew what it felt like to be threatened. She’d gotten out of her marriage because of it. For both his and Casey’s sakes, she was glad Mr. Stillman had moved to Utah, away from danger.
“I have a sister,” he said, “who lives in Lone Peak Estates here in Sandy, with her husband and their two kids. Since the area’s zoned for horses, she encouraged us to move across the street from her so we could ride their horses when we wanted. After the loss of his mother, I wanted Casey to have family close by.”
“Of course,” Melissa murmured, still shocked by the tragic story. For a child to lose his mother like that was utterly heartbreaking.
“He’s had a hard time,” Mr. Stillman continued, “but we were doing better until he fell off his horse and broke his leg. It happened soon after Pioneer Day, on the twenty-fourth of July. Having the surgery frightened him and set him back emotionally. He’s been crying for his mother at night.”
“That’s only natural. Who wouldn’t? In hellish times the child in everyone cries for his or her mother.”
Melissa had wanted to cry in her mom’s arms in the months before she’d run from Russ, wanting her to make everything all right. But she’d felt too ashamed to tell her parents anything. They’d advised her to wait another year before she got married, just to be sure. But oh, no. She knew what she was doing. What a fool.
She hadn’t confided in her parents until after she’d left Russ.
Poor Casey hadn’t had his mother when he’d fallen.
“When you greeted him outside your office yesterday morning, it was like something magical happened—he responded to you without even thinking about it. I was bewildered by his reaction until we got home. That’s when I realized there’s something about you that reminds him of his mother—the way you talk, your enthusiasm, even your physical appearance. You have a vitality like hers. Put all that together and you could be her double.”
“Really?”
“Yes. At this point I believe he’d do anything for you. He proved that today.”
Mr. Stillman had just given her a plausible answer for Casey’s quick turnaround, but his own reaction was far more complicated. Melissa jumped up from her chair, suddenly putting two and two together. Whether he’d had a good, mediocre or bad marriage, seeing someone who reminded him so strongly of his wife must have come as a shock to him.
She’d known something was wrong. For some reason it made her feel strange. She didn’t want to look like anyone else, especially his murdered wife. Apparently he didn’t like it, either.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” she said. “Considering his progress, tomorrow should be the last time he needs to come in.” Working with children had made her careful not to allow attachments to form. “I’ll send you home with a sheet showing a few exercises he can do. If you make a game of it and do them with him, he won’t know you’re trying to help strengthen those muscles. Keep in mind he doesn’t have to do the exercises. Natural play will eventually work out any kinks, but it’s something you can do together as father and son to speed things up. Do you have any questions for me?”
“None.”
He seemed anxious to get off the phone. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll deal with the issue of his not wanting to go to school then.”
Melissa hung up. She had no desire to prolong their conversation either. It would have been agony for Travis Stillman to have to discuss the tragedy with her. Heaven knows it was hard enough to hear about it. Any trauma that directly affected a child pained her. But murder … The poor boy. The poor father. He’d been forced to give up his life’s work and move to a new state. None of that could have been easy.
She was glad she had a busy schedule that afternoon. It would get her mind off what she’d learned.
At four o’clock she left the clinic for her parents’ home in Federal Heights, an area in the northeast region of the city near the University of Utah. Five generations of Robertses, all of whom had run the Wasatch Front Steel Corporation, had lived there. Melissa had grown up surrounded by tall, gorgeous old trees and a lush yard. Her town house, where the trees had been newly planted and there was no heavy foliage, was a big change.
While she ate dinner with her parents, she told them about the cabin. Her father rubbed his chin. “That’s the trouble with such remote places, honey. After every winter, our neighbors up there complain of the same thing. Somebody’s broken in and things are stolen.”
She shook her head “Winter is one thing, Dad, but for intruders to be that brazen in summer is really upsetting. I didn’t see anything missing, but I know someone has been in there since July 24.”
“Let’s just be thankful you didn’t surprise them when you walked in,” her mother said. “I’ve never liked you going up there alone. This settles it. Please don’t use the cabin again unless you have a friend or family member with you.”
“Mom—”
“I don’t care if you’re a grown woman, Melissa. It’s not safe.”
“Your mother’s right, honey. What about Tom?”
“He’s a man I’ve done some artwork for, but that’s all. I’ve never
