Breath of Dawn, The (27 page)

Beside the ponytail man, the tall rancher eyed her. “You’re Quinn’s sister?”

She nodded vigorously. “She’s . . . in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“A man. I’m afraid what he might do. I need to tell her.” She sounded like a robot.

“What makes you think that’s her car?” the ponytail asked.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“No way. That’s Mor—”

Rick gripped the man’s shoulder and told Hannah, “I didn’t get your name.”

She gulped. “I’m Hannah. Please, I really need to find her.”

“Hannah, I can see you’re concerned. But your sister’s all right.”

“How do you know?”

Good question, but Hannah didn’t let him answer.

“I . . . I mean, her car’s crashed.”

The ponytail didn’t contradict this time, but the cat was out. If the car wasn’t Quinn’s, then whose?

Rick said, “I’m sure if you give her a call, she’ll tell you everything’s fine.”

“I don’t have her number. I . . . I did, but then it got disconnected.”

The men stood in silence.

“I mean she calls me at home. To the house. I . . . I don’t have caller ID.”

The woman should be put down.

Rick eyed her so long Hannah squirmed. “Did someone put you up to this?”

“Put me . . .” Her slow brain worked through the implication.

“Are you in danger, Hannah?”

“Me?” she squeaked. “No, it’s Quinn.”

So much for her getting anywhere he couldn’t.

Her voice got shrill. “If you know where my sister is, tell me right now.”

“You probably should let this go.”

Ordinarily, Rick’s tone would have her running for the door, but Hannah stomped her foot. “Do you know who you’re protecting? She took the Lord’s money to buy a sports car.”

Shut. Up.

“She’s not a good person!”

The men looked at each other. Unbelievably, Hannah flew at them, her little fists performing a function they’d never attempted before. The ponytailed one caught her shoulders, and Hannah broke into sobs. “You have to tell me. You have to. She lied. Whatever she said, he isn’t like that at all.”

Disgusted, Markham let himself out the back.

Noelle blinked when Rick entered the kitchen, for a moment thinking Erin was walking before him. The woman wasn’t Erin, only similar.

“Noelle, this is Quinn’s sister, Hannah.” His expression said Quinn was no slip. “She got stranded at the general store.”

“I’m so sorry.” She motioned. “Please sit. Would you like a cup of cocoa?” How clearly she remembered serving Erin and thinking she’d make a nice friend.

Confused or dazed, Hannah blinked at her. “I need to find my sister. Your husband won’t help. Will you?”

She glanced up. If they were at an impasse, why had Rick brought the woman to the ranch? She said, “I can see you’re upset.”

Hannah lowered her face to her hands and cried softly.

Noelle looked at Liam stabbing his marshmallows with a toothpick. Catching the glance, Rick moved their son and his cocoa to the dining room.

Hannah started talking. “Quinn ruined everything. She never listened, never obeyed. She always knew better than everyone, even her own father—the minister.” She looked up, shocked and indignant.

Noelle smiled politely.

Hannah’s nostrils flared. “She sent an innocent man to jail. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t.”

“Her lies took away four years of his life.”

“Wasn’t there a trial?”

Hannah huffed. “A mockery. She said he stole the donations!”

“There must have been evidence.”

“From Quinn! She never saw the vision, never believed. Not even our Lord could work miracles in the midst of unbelief.”

“This person worked miracles?”

“He was only the tool.” Hannah’s mouth pulled tight. “The miracle was God’s.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what miracle?”

“The multiplication of loaves and fishes. If he hadn’t been cut
down before the miracle came, everyone would be reaping the blessing.”

He must have put on quite a show. “But I don’t understand. If you’re so angry with Quinn, why do you want to find her?”

Her eyes bulged. “So he can forgive her.”

How sadly convoluted. “Is this the man who left you at the store?”

Hannah’s mouth fell slack. “It . . . he . . .” Tears welled again. “He wants to do the right thing.”

“Then he should return the missing money.”

Hannah looked incredulous. “He didn’t take it. Quinn did.”

M
organ’s morning meetings had stretched into the afternoon, so Erin put Livie down to nap in the crib all done up in Battenberg lace and cream embroidered rosebuds. Uncertain, she’d offered a Pull-Up, and Livie objected.

“Those are nighttime. Not naps.” Her serious eyes weren’t quite offended, but close. Even though she’d worn a Pull-Up on the drive, Morgan had taken her into the bathroom, so potty training had probably occurred. There were so many things she hadn’t asked and didn’t know. But they’d work into it, little by little.

Limping only slightly, she closed Livie’s door and decided to explore the house. The master suite took a major portion of the upstairs on the ocean side, with Livie’s room next to that. Across from Livie’s was the guest room where she’d slept and another done in marigold with teal accents. Someone had a flair for color.

A small open parlor area surrounded a window that looked into the landscaped courtyard, and on the other side of that she found a room furnished as a workroom. One table held clear plastic bins like smaller versions of her own storage tubs. The bins held
assorted papers, stickers, scissors, punches—school supplies? The realization dawned. This was Jill’s space.

“Señora.” Consuela came in with a cordless phone. “Your sister.”

Erin came down hard on her ankle, wincing as she dropped into an office chair at the end of one long table. How could Hannah have Morgan’s house number?

Fighting a wave of panic, she said, “Hello?”

“Hi, Erin. I hope I’m not bothering—”

“Noelle.” Relief rushed in hard. Her sister-
in-law.

“Are you in a place you can talk?”

“Yes.” She assured Consuela with a smile that she could go. “What’s up?”

“Well . . . Hannah’s here.”

“What?” It felt like a reprieve revoked. “What does she want? Does she know—”

“We haven’t told her anything.”

More guilty relief. “I’m so sorry to have put you in that position.”

Noelle said, “Please don’t worry about that. I’m calling because I’m afraid for her.”

Afraid. “Why?”

“She’s with Markham.”

Of course that would be a surprise to someone who didn’t know the score. “As long as she kisses the ground he walks on, she’s perfectly fine.”

“No one connected to homicide is perfectly fine.”

It took a moment to sink in. “Homicide.”

“Morgan told us about the double murder.”

“What are you talking about?” She shoved her fingers into her hair. “And what do you mean Morgan told you?”

“His investigator—”

“Morgan hired an investigator?” She was starting to sound incredulous.

“He doesn’t take harassment lightly. Anyway, the investigator said the authorities suspect Markham in two deaths, but they couldn’t make a case. That isn’t the same as innocence.”

No, it wasn’t. And she’d had no idea. If she had, would she have
dared take him on? She calmed her breath. “What does Hannah want?”

“To find you. So Markham can forgive you.”

She dropped her head to her hand.

“Erin, can you believe that?” Noelle didn’t ask it scornfully.

“Yes. She’s so taken in she’d lie down in front of a train if he told her God asked it.”

“He’s that good?”

“When he turns it on he can play transfigured Moses on the mount. To my sister he’s a desolate, wronged prophet. I think he was trying for slick with Rick, but didn’t get much audience participation.”

Noelle laughed. “No, Rick can be stone. Used to infuriate me. Actually it still does.”

In spite of her rushing heart, Erin laughed with her. None of it was funny, though. Homicide . . . What was Hannah thinking?

“Erin.” Noelle cleared her throat. “She said you took the money.”

Her throat constricted.

“Erin?”

“That’s wrong.” The hand in her lap opened and closed like a sea anemone.

“Hannah’s convinced you have it. She’s on a holy crusade.”

“I’m sorry for her. I really am. I’m sorry for all of them.” She swallowed the hard dry lump. “But at some point . . . people have to see. You know?”

“See?” Noelle’s voice was gentle, but concerned. “Erin . . . does Morgan know everything?”

She closed her eyes. That wasn’t only Noelle, it was God asking. “It’s complicated.”

After a pause, Noelle said, “If there’s anybody you can trust, it’s the man you married.”

“Okay.” She thanked her for calling, then held the disconnected phone against her chest. She did trust Morgan. But if it came to it, she needed an exit plan.

Morgan strode in just before dinner, shedding his workday as Livie ran into his arms. From his crouch, he raised an eyebrow at Erin. “Up on your feet?”

“I better be. Pretty busy around here.”

“Sorry.” He spread his hands. “I didn’t expect it to go so long.”

“We did fine. I’m just realizing I need a checklist or something before you leave, so I know what to do about things like diapers.”

“We’ll set down a plan after dinner. Was everything okay?” By that he meant Livie, but didn’t want to say it aloud.

“We all did great.” The words were right, but something in her tone was off.

“Why don’t we let Consuela feed Livie, and you and I have a drink outside.” The evening—as was the case three hundred days out of the year in Santa Barbara—was clear and temperate. With only minute seasonal shifts, there reigned a sort of timelessness as though residents might live forever and not realize. He knew too well that wasn’t true.

He handed his daughter to Consuela, who had fallen deeply in love already. Then to Erin, “What would you like? Wine. Juice. Tea.”

“I will have a glass of wine, if you’re . . .”

“White or red?”

“White.”

He’d stocked a wine room before his change of life, and much of it remained. He opened a bottle of Chardonnay from the cooler and poured her a glass.

“I never had wine before I left my hometown.”

“Against the rules?”

“Frowned upon for most of us. Others, I guess, had divine dispensation.”

“And some of us divine interference.” He got himself a Sobe from the refrigerator. They went out and sat poolside in outdoor furniture designed for comfort. “What’s on your mind, Erin? Besides a plan for Livie.”

She drew up one knee and anchored that foot behind the other knee. The soft thin pants draped her shapely shin. She took a sip, then said, “My sister’s at Rick’s. She’s trying to help Markham find me.”

“Won’t happen. Not from Rick and Noelle anyway.” And then it sank in. “Wait, she’s working with Markham against you?”

She shrugged, a little too casually. “We’re not close.”

She took another sip for courage or comfort. Though he knew it couldn’t provide either, it indicated that something was bothering her. Big time.

She spoke softly. “Noelle said you hired an investigator.”

“He’s someone I use for vetting companies. I asked him to look into that phone number when Markham texted the threat.”

“He told you Markham’s killed people?” She raised her eyes, the starbursts merely tips around the widened pupils in the deepening dusk. “But you didn’t tell me.”

“He called as we were leaving Rick’s. With everything that followed, I forgot to tell you.” As lame as it sounded, that was true. He’d left Markham in the dust in more ways than one. The man’s reentry at this point rankled. He took a swallow of his Sobe. “It isn’t certain. Only suspected on the homicides. He has an alibi.”

“I’ll bet.” She frowned. “Who did he kill?”

“Maybe no one.” When he saw she didn’t buy it, he said, “Two older cousins.”

She pressed her fingers to her temple. “And now he has my sister.”

“Has her how?”

“Enthralled.” Her voice hitched. “Morgan . . .”

He needed to stop her before she asked something he wouldn’t do. “That can’t be helped. Not by you, and, honey, right now not by me. I have to complete this consultation. Time is critical.”

“So . . . ” She released her knee, wincing a little when her foot touched down. “This
raison
of yours is finite?”

“I’m loath to reveal.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe . . . after the consultation?”

“I’m not doing anything that might point in this direction. As far as I know, Markham has no idea I exist. Anything I do for your sister could change that. If he knows about me, he’ll learn about us.”

She closed her eyes. “You’re right.” And now her fear showed. It wasn’t only about her sister.

“I’ll ask the police to keep an eye out here while I’m gone.”

“They’ll do that?”

“I know a few.” And the city was beholden. “Consuela has some guys who can hang around and tend the yard. It needs it.” He’d pay a small force to keep watch.

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’ll be okay.” If he didn’t make himself believe that, he’d slip back into the paralysis of fear, waiting for disaster to strike once more.

Markham hadn’t intended for Hannah to infiltrate the enemy camp, but he could pretend he had. “Hannah,” he whispered when she stepped out of the cabin where she’d stayed the night.

She turned hurt eyes to where he barely showed himself.

He motioned her over. She wanted to resist, but every compliant cell in her body obeyed. He saw instantly the little mouse needed building up and said, “Hannah, you were perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“You did exactly what we needed.”

“I did?” Her voice trembled.

“You’re here, in the enemy’s camp.”

“I had to come.” Her brow furrowed. “You deserted me.”

“Never.” He gave his next pronouncement forceful sincerity. “Hannah, God is raising you up. The Lord has made you my handmaid.”

The hands clasped beneath her chin shook. “Do you mean it?”

“I’ve never meant anything more.” A benevolent warmth overcame him at the thought of her humble service. How pure her devotion. How sweet her belief. He shook himself. “Did they tell you where Quinn is?”

“They won’t.” She shivered in the frigid mountain air. “They believe I’m helping you.”

“You have to convince them you’re not. If they believe you’ve turned against me, they’ll help you find Quinn.”

“No. I can’t.”

“You can, Hannah. Tell them you have nowhere else to go.” He squeezed her hands. “You need your sister.”

She grew still and serious. “And when this is done . . . ?”

He tipped his face to heaven. “In the Lord’s time. In the Lord’s will.”

The rush of pious fervor took him by surprise. Was he believing his own act? What if . . . it wasn’t an act?

The rear hoof made a sharp clip on the stable floor as Noelle drew a currycomb down Destiny’s russet flank, soothing the stallion as she worked. She’d fought so hard for the privilege of training this horse, finally proving herself to Rick, who took nothing about his stock lightly. One stall over, he picked the hooves of Destiny’s dam, Aldebaran.

Noelle smiled. In her early days at the ranch, she had resented riding the mare until she realized Rick’s choice was not about hypercontrol of a headstrong guest, but the gift of an animal he cherished. Her mind went to that drizzly day she and the horse took a fall that had broken her bones but, thank God, not Aldebaran’s. That near disaster had taught her to listen and trust Rick’s lead. Since then he’d learned to listen and trust hers as well—a faith in each other that was nothing like Hannah’s blind devotion to a charlatan.