Chapter Two
She was finally getting warm. When she realized she wasn’t trapped in her car but wrapped up in a warm quilt, she tried to open her eyes. Her head hurt like the very devil, but she knew she needed to wake up. Her eyelids didn’t want to cooperate but she finally managed to get them open just a crack. Going from darkness to the light had pain exploding in her head. Quickly closing her eyes, she waited for the pain to abate. She tried again and this time she didn’t hurt quite as bad.
At first, she couldn’t focus. Everything around her was fuzzy. Feeling a moment of anxiousness, she closed her eyes then opened them again. Panic began to set in when she didn’t recognize the room she was in. Nothing around her was familiar at all, not even the quilt giving her warmth. She struggled to sit up. The movement caused her head to throb. Loosening her braid to ease the pain, she massaged her scalp and fought back the urge to throw up. When the room finally quit spinning, she glanced around slowly.
The room looked like it belonged to a man. She could see the wardrobe in the corner of the room. The doors didn’t quite close; there was a red flannel shirt hanging over the top of the door. A couple pairs of well-worn boots decorated the floor beside the wardrobe as well as a pair of dress boots. In the corner of the room there was a washbasin, a large pitcher for water and on one of the corners of the stand was a black, beaten up cowboy hat.
The rest of the room reminded her of a motel room. There was a dresser and a nightstand but no mementos anywhere in sight. There were no photographs of family and no sign of anything personal. The bed she was laying in was a king size brass bed. The four corners were topped with finials. The elaborate designs between the posts didn’t really fit with the rest of the room. The bed looked almost feminine in an otherwise masculine room. The pillows and bedding smelled fresh and clean. The bed had been made this morning. She was lying under half the covers but the other half was still made up. The quilts on top of her looked handmade. Smoothing the top of the quilts with her hand, she admired the careful stitching.
She glanced over at the window. Snow was blowing around in the wind. She guessed it was cold outside by the signs of frost in the corners of the glass but the window was tight, keeping the cold outside. She heard the wind howl, but it was nothing compared to the fear inside her. She had no idea where she was.
Light shone from the other side of the door that was cracked open. She pushed back the quilt to investigate. She was stunned to find out she was just wearing her underwear. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders again, she swung her feet over the side of the bed, and tried to stand. For a brief time, she felt dizzy and grabbed the bedpost to steady herself.
Her legs were weak and one of her feet hurt but after a moment, she walked slowly to the door. Peeking out through the crack, she could see a cozy living room with a sofa and a rocking chair facing the fire. Beyond the living room, she saw the kitchen. The roaring fire in the living room offered warmth and lit up the corner of the room. When she saw the fire, she had to glance over at the fireplace in the room she was in to see a nice fire going in there as well, so she had to know someone else was in the house with her.
There was.
She could see a small TV in the corner of the room, but it wasn’t turned on. In the silence of the house, she could hear someone moving around, but she couldn’t tell who it might be. Her stomach growled at the great smells coming from the kitchen, but she tried to ignore her hunger until she knew more about the situation.
Then a man came into her line of sight…tall, well over six feet and dark haired. Dressed in blue jeans and another red flannel shirt he was cooking something on the stove. She wished he would turn around so she could see his face.
As if he heard her silent request, the man stiffened, slowly turning to face the living room.
She backed away for a moment, trying to hide but she couldn’t take her eyes off the figure in front of her.
His face was lean and long but he had a strong jaw line. He was for the most part, clean-shaven but was sporting a late day scruff outlining the perimeter of his jawline. His skin looked tanned from working out in the sun all day long. He had a small cleft in his chin. His eyes, though, held her attention. They were a vibrant pale blue almost a gray color. For a moment she frowned, she’d never seen eyes quite his color before.
From where she stood, she could tell he meant her no harm. His face looked kind but she could be wrong. For a brief second, she saw another face in her mind, but before she could remember the face completely, it was gone in a flash that left her reeling in pain. She took a deep breath and decided to face the man here. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stay hidden forever.
Slowly, she limped her way further into the living room. She still felt weak so she couldn’t move very fast or very far.
When he saw her, he rushed to her side to help her to the nearest chair. It was the rocking chair in front of the fireplace.
She smiled slightly as she sat down. She couldn’t look at him so she kept her face tipped downward. Her loosened hair falling like a veil helped to hide her face.
~ * ~
Chase grabbed an afghan from the couch and spread it out over her legs making sure every inch of her was covered. When he’d touched her arm, her skin still felt cool to the touch but better than it had before. He glanced at her bowed head and frowned. He sat down beside her on the sofa. Staring at the fireplace for a moment, he found he was at a loss as to how to proceed. There were dozens of questions he needed answers for, but she seemed different somehow now since she was awake.
“Who are you? Where am I?” she finally asked. Her voice revealed her state of fear. She hadn’t raised her head. Her red hair curtained her face from his gaze. She had released her hair from the tight braid it had been in.
He couldn’t help but marvel at the rich coloring. Chase frowned. He gazed at the woman in front of him as he wondered if she was playing him. This didn’t fit with the picture Grayson Trainer had painted. He knew he couldn’t trust anything Grayson said…but if this woman had murdered anyone, he would have been surprised. She didn’t seem the type really, given the questions she just asked. “My name is Chase Rivers. I have a ranch about ninety minutes away from Coven Glade, Minnesota, near a little town called Benton.” He watched with interest as she frowned at the information.
“Do you know what happened to me? I mean how did I end up here?” she asked quickly glancing up at him. Then she just as quickly, looked away.
“I found your overturned car in a ditch early this morning. You must have rolled off the road and ended up there sometime during the night or very early this morning. When I found you, you were damn near froze to death.” He shifted his weight to look at her. “Don’t you remember the accident at all?”
She shook her head slowly. “Do you know where I was going or where I was coming from?” Her tongue moistened her dry lips.
Chase watched her, mesmerized by the action.
“I’m not sure I even know where this place is.”
He blinked twice to clear away the fog then frowned. “What do you remember?”
She turned tearful eyes to him. “I don’t remember anything. It’s like I woke up for the first time in the bedroom over there. I’m trying, I really am, but I can’t remember anything before I woke up.”
“Do you know what your name is?” He had to ask. He had been right in thinking her eyes were green. Even with tears in them, they were a beautiful green.
She shook her head. The movement must have caused her head to burst into pain. She raised her hand to the wound on her forehead then groaned as she lightly touched the cut on her head. She felt the dried blood as she turned panic filled eyes toward Chase. “What happened to me?”
“You must have hit your head during the accident. When I found you, you were half in, half out of your car. The windshield was cratered; that’s what caused the bump on your forehead. I knew I couldn’t leave you there. You were cold and wet and in case you haven’t noticed, it is snowing outside. That coupled with the howling wind chill, it’s pretty close to well below zero out there. At the moment we have almost blizzard conditions outside. I brought you here early this morning when I found you. You were so chilled, all I could do was clean the cut on your head and try to warm you up. You’ve been sleeping almost all day but I have checked on you a couple of times.”
She glanced at the big picture window and saw it was getting dark outside. The wind was still blowing the snow around. Crystals of ice were forming on the corners of the window. She shivered.
Chase decided to tell her the police were looking for her. “I had another visitor today. He was mighty interested in finding you.”
She glanced at him with avid curiosity on her face. “Who was he? What did he want? Did he know who I am?” She acted like a child seeking information.
Chase grimaced. Her reaction didn’t make any sense to him. She should have been more afraid of someone finding her. “It was the local sheriff. The police are looking for you for questioning in a murder case over in Coven Glade.” He watched closely for her reaction. “He said you were a dangerous character, you might be armed, and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me in order to avoid getting caught.”
She paled. “I murdered someone? Oh my God…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away from him for a long moment. She turned back to Chase. “Did the police say who it was I murdered?” She didn’t acknowledge the second part of his allegation. It probably didn’t make sense to her.
Chase shook his head. “No, all they wanted was information on your whereabouts. Quite frankly, I don’t think you murdered anybody.” He paused, then remembered something else. “Do you know someone named Ian?”
She frowned then a blinding pain made her close her eyes. Tears welled, rolling down her cheeks. She moaned softly.
“Bethany, are you all right?” Chase frowned.
She opened her eyes slowly as the pain receded to a dull throbbing pain. She rubbed her temples. She acted as if she were in a lot of pain and coupled with a confusion she couldn’t control, she had to ask, “What did you call me?”
“The sheriff who stopped here this morning said your name was Bethany Morgan,” Chase explained.
She tilted her head. “My name isn’t Bethany.” She frowned and shook her head. “At least I don’t think it is. That just doesn’t seem right to me.”
Chase sighed. “You never did answer my earlier question. Do you know anyone named Ian?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if I do or not. I wish I could say one way or the other, but I can’t even tell you what my name is. I don’t know if it’s Bethany Morgan or something else.” She paused then added, “I’m so confused by all of this. I wish I knew what was going on here.”
Chase could see how scared she was, how frustrated she appeared to be. He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t say anything. He studied her pose for a moment and decided if she was acting, she deserved a dammed Oscar. As far as he was concerned, she wasn’t faking or playing up her situation. She really didn’t know who she was or what she was doing here.
He stood up and strode to the kitchen. He put the food he’d just cooked on a couple of plates then brought them back into the living room where, handing her a plate, he sat down beside her. He started eating.
She stared at the plate on her lap before picking up her fork and eating. She didn’t stop eating until her plate was clean. She gazed over at Chase. Looking surprised, she watched as he grinned. “Sorry, but I was hungry. The food was really great. I don’t think I’ve ever had chicken that tasted so good in my life.”
“Don’t apologize. You haven’t eaten anything all day, so you must have been starved.” Chase took her plate and his back to the kitchen. He ignored the compliment because he liked to cook, mainly because he had to eat. As a matter of pride, he wanted the food to at least taste good.
When he returned he brought two cups of coffee. Handing her one he set the other one on the end table and turned on the television. From the sofa, they caught the very end of a news report. It was a grizzly scene as police cars parked in front of a house in Coven Glade. Officers working behind yellow tape took up most of the picture. The house was a simple one. It was painted blue with white trim; the lawn was clipped and the whole place had a kept up look to it. There were flowers in bloom in the front border that made it look like whoever lived there took care of the house.
News reporter Randall Shaw stood forward of the yellow tape. He was commenting on the crime that had taken place the night before, “Police are looking for a woman for questioning in the murder of Ian Carter. Mr. Carter was shot in the house right behind where I’m standing around 2 a.m. this morning. Police are certain a woman they are looking for is responsible for Carter’s death. They advise the woman is armed and dangerous. They are asking for your help in finding this woman. She’s about five feet two inches tall with dark red hair and green eyes. The police aren’t saying at this point, what the motive behind the crime is. Please stay tuned for further details.”
Chase turned the volume down glancing over at her.
She was crying while staring at the picture of Ian on the silent screen. “I guess we know who Ian is now, don’t we? We also know the police think I murdered him.” Her words were quietly spoken, but they sounded loud in the silence that filled the room. She watched the TV screen and wouldn’t look at Chase, staring at the face on the television as if trying to remember who he was.
The photo of Ian showed that he had a nice face, clean-shaven and was good looking with his blond hair and soft grey eyes.
“I don’t believe that news report,” Chase told her. “In fact, I don’t think you killed anyone.” He snapped the television off. He didn’t know what prompted him to say what he felt out loud but once he said the words, he found he believed them. She didn’t look the type of woman to kill a man, not without a damn good reason.
She turned her head to look at him. “Why? Why would you say something like that? You don’t even know me. How do you know I couldn’t kill a man? How do you know I’m not the person the police are looking for?”
Chase shrugged. “I’m not really sure why, I just don’t think you’re a cold blooded killer. You just don’t seem the type.”
“But the police are looking for m-me,” she sputtered in her panic. “You told me yourself a police officer was here this morning. I’m sure by now, everyone in the area is looking for me. You told me yourself the sheriff mentioned I might be armed. I’m considered dangerous! I’ll bet every rancher in the area is searching for me.”
Chase sighed. “You need to calm down. First of all, let me tell you something, if Grayson Trainer is involved in this investigation, you can bet something isn’t kosher. I don’t trust him and I’ve known him most of his life. We both grew up together here in Benton and his whole family likes to… shall we say, bend the law. Second of all, you know you can’t believe everything you hear on the TV. Reporters only report what the police will allow them to say, and that’s not always what’s true. That’s just what they think at the time. Right now, they have only their suspicions about what really happened to Ian. Thirdly, Grayson said this morning the police wanted you for questioning in a murder, not that you were a suspect in a murder.”
~*~
She frowned at the name he gave the sheriff who’d stopped here this morning. It rang a bell in her confused mind, but she didn’t know why. It was the same feeling she’d had when he mentioned Ian’s name before they saw the news report. She moistened her lips again. “So what happens now? I mean you can’t keep me here, you have to call the police and tell them you found me.”
“Why?” Chase asked as he sat back on the sofa.
She frowned. “What do you mean, why?”
“There’s something about this whole story that doesn’t make any sense to me. Until it does, I’m not going to turn you over to anyone. Until you remember more about what happened last night and how you ended up going over the side of the road, I think I’ll just keep you with me. You’ll be safe here at least.”
“What about my car? Won’t the police find it? If they do, they’ll come here looking for me.”
Chase shook his head. “The snow will have it buried by morning. If Grayson didn’t find it this morning, he won’t find it until the snow starts melting. That won’t be for at least a day or two, probably longer, depending on how much snow we get from this storm. But he could come back here looking for you all the same.”
“If he finds me here, you could be in trouble for letting me stay.”
Chase grinned. “I’ll risk it.”
“What about the news report that I’m armed and considered dangerous?” she asked. “Aren’t you worried about that?”
“I’m probably more dangerous to you than you are to me right now. I don’t think you have the strength to swing a cat around the room. Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, I searched you when I undressed you and I know for a fact, you don’t have a gun on you. On top of all of that, you don’t know anything about me either,” Chase pointed out. “I might be a killer waiting for my next victim.”
She giggled then groaned in pain. “You could be but I doubt it. I don’t think a serial killer would feed his next victim.” She put her hands around her face, rubbing her temples. She was awfully tired all of a sudden. Her head was throbbing again. “I’m sorry but I think I need to lie down.”
Chase nodded. “You can use the bedroom tonight. I’m going to sit here for a while. You can grab a t shirt out of the wardrobe if you want something to sleep in.”
She stood up making her way back to the bedroom. At least there, it was dark and quiet and she needed to be alone. She thought about a t shirt but the wardrobe seemed to be just too far away. The pillow felt cool to her head. As she closed her eyes, she could see Ian’s face. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. Why she was crying she didn’t really know, but somehow she thought it had to do with Ian’s death.
There were too many questions in her mind. Questions like who was this Ian and what did he mean to her? Why did he have to die? Did I really kill him?