Innocent Witness

“Well, there’s the hotel swimming pool, boating and fishing on the lake, and a lot of hiking trails. I guess I should warn you, Travis found out there’s a riding stable near here and he’s gearing up for a horseback ride this afternoon.”

“Ouch,” Steve said in mock pain. “I remember the last horseback ride I took. Believe me, the horse and I didn’t part the best of friends.”

“The riding stable has lots of easy-riding horses and guides. You could start out with a short ride up to Chimney Rock,” she told him. “It’s a gentle climb and you can see most of the mountain valley from there. The view might give you a better idea of the fishing streams, as well as some possible camping places and available horseback-riding trails. You shouldn’t have any trouble filling up your vacation. Everything for the outdoor man is right here.”

“You mean, the outdoor boy, don’t you? It’s that son of mine who wants to play mountain man.”

She laughed in agreement. “Travis has been poring over some maps and brochures while you were with Penny. He’s especially excited about our guided horseback trips into the wilderness areas.”

Steve groaned.

“Are you telling me you’re out of condition?” she chided.

“No, I’m telling you I prefer a racquetball court to climbing mountains.”

“Too bad. We don’t have any racquetball courts, but we have plenty of mountains.”

“How about taking a walk around Shadow Lake this afternoon? You could show us some of the points of interest.”

“Sorry, I have a meeting scheduled with a group who want to reserve the hotel for a conference. I’ll be busy the rest of today and tomorrow.”

And the day after that? In a way Steve was relieved that she was making it clear that she wasn’t going to step over any line that would put their relationship on anything but a professional basis. The more he was around Deanna Drake, the challenge of resisting the growing attraction he felt for her was demanding more and more willpower.

“Well, I think Travis and I will take that hike he’s been wanting, and then spend some time in the swimming pool. We’ll save the boating for another day.”

HE WAS GRATEFUL that he’d made a deal with Susan to include Travis in her child-care duties. After he and Travis had come back from their hike and spent an hour in the pool, Susan took both children out to the playground.

Steve wandered around the hotel at his leisure, keeping his eye out for Deanna. When he found her, she was outside in the hotel parking lot, talking to Roger, the ex–ski bum. They were in the middle of a discussion about the ailing hotel van.

“All right, call Denver and have the part sent up by express,” Deanna was saying. “In the meantime, you can use the Subaru for errands. Are you sure you know what’s wrong with the van?”

“Am I sure?” Roger grabbed his chest in mock pain. “How can you doubt the best mechanic this side of the continental divide?”

“Because you’re full of the blarney and you know it.”

Roger winked at Steve. “She loves me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Deanna gave the cocky young man a playful shove. “Go on, order the part. Maude’s going to have a fit if you don’t start getting her orders to the kitchen on time.”

“That battle-ax.”

“She’s the only cook I’ve got, and I’ll string you up by your thumbs if you make her quit.”

He gave Deanna a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” As he walked away, muscles rippled in his back and thighs, but Steve noticed he favored one leg. Probably the knee he’d hurt skiing.

“Seems like a nice kid.”

“He’s no kid. He’s twenty-eight or nine. Anyway, he’s been hanging around Eagle Ridge for quite a while. Ben depended upon him to be the hotel gofer.” She sighed. “This has been one of those days that validate the principle that if something can go wrong, it will.”

Steve decided that Deanna looked like a gal who needed a break. “How about a glass of lemonade or something stronger?”

“Lemonade sounds good.” For some foolish reason, Deanna’s spirits instantly lifted, and she wished she’d had time to freshen up a bit. He’d been in her thoughts off and on all afternoon, and several times she’d made some mistakes that were the result of her daydreaming.

The dining room was nearly empty when they took a seat by the window and ordered a pitcher of lemonade and some sugar cookies. Deanna was just beginning to relax, when Murphy’s Law lived up to its reputation, and her rising spirits took another nosedive.

When Sheriff Janson glanced in the dining room, she knew that he’d come looking for her. “Not today,” she breathed a protest as he came in.

Steve followed her look and asked, “Who is it?”

“Sheriff Janson.”

Steve thought the burly, potbellied man in tight western pants and shirt looked more like a ranch boss than a law officer. He wore a dark cowboy hat perched on the back of his head, and tufts of graying eyebrows hung over dark eyes that were as sharp as polished iron.

Deanna’s stomach tightened as she put down her half-eaten cookie. Sheriff Janson had made it clear from the beginning of his investigation into Ben’s death that she was high on his list of suspects.

“Sorry to intrude on you folks,” he said with little sign that he really meant the apology. Taking off his hat, he held out a gnarled hand to Steve. “Sheriff Janson. I reckon you’re the fellow fixing to help Penny get over her dark spell. Sherman, isn’t it?”

“Dr. Steve Sherman. Glad to meet you.” Usually Steve didn’t bother with the doctor moniker, but Deanna’s reaction to the man had put him on guard. Suddenly she was sitting with her spine pressed against the back of her chair like a cornered animal, every muscle ready for flight. He couldn’t quite tell what was going on between Deanna and the sheriff, but the air was filled with some unspoken hostility. Why was she reacting so negatively to a law officer who must be trying to find her husband’s killer?

“Well, now, Doc, I sure hope things work out with Penny. The little tyke just might have the answer to all of this. I’ll be checking in to find out what she has to say.”

Steve started to enlighten the sheriff about doctor-patient confidentiality, but decided the time wasn’t right. He’d wait until Janson started pushing him, and then he’d set the record straight.

“I guess you haven’t turned up anything new in your investigation, Sheriff,” she said, “otherwise you wouldn’t still be hanging around the hotel.”

The tone and manner of her remark verified Steve’s thoughts. No love lost between the two of them.

“Well, now.” Janson scratched his head, still standing by the table. Steve noticed that Deanna had not asked him to sit down. “Sometimes a body can learn a lot just listening to folks flap their gums a bit. Take Dillon, for instance. I’ll admit he can go off the deep end sometimes, but a bartender sees and hears things that can set him to thinking—”

“In the wrong direction,” she raged.

The sheriff’s bushy eyebrows matted thoughtfully over the bridge of his nose as he peered at Deanna for a long moment. He shook his head when the waitress came up and asked if he would like to order something. Then he said, “Oh, no, I don’t want to intrude on this little party.”

Deanna swallowed hard to keep from retorting that he already had. The sheriff stuck his hat on the back of his head. “Well, I’ll be moseying along. Guess I’ll hit Dillon up for a beer. Nice to meet you, Doc. We’ll have to have a talk real soon.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Steve responded readily. People intrigued him. All kinds of people. Now he had two interesting good old boys to put under his professional microscope, and if both Dillon and Janson were lined up against Deanna, maybe he could even the sides.

“Sorry about that,” Deanna apologized.

“Don’t be. Maybe if I understood the situation a little better, I might be of some help to you.”

He watched as she struggled to make the decision whether or not to confide in him. He knew well enough that unless a situation impacted Penny in some way, he had no right to involve himself in it. Deanna was not his patient. Any help he gave her would be on a personal basis, friend to friend.

“It’s a sordid mess.”

He only nodded and waited.

She worried the napkin in her hand for a moment, then the decision made, she lifted her head and met his eyes. “Dillon has been filling Janson’s ears with a lot of half truths about me and Bob Henderson, a sordid tale that would make good tabloid copy. ‘Lovers Kill Husband for Hotel.”’

Steve was adept at not showing any emotion to whatever was said. He just nodded to show he accepted what she was telling him. “Dillon has made a deal with me. He won’t go to the newspapers with his suspicions if I let him go on running the bar.”

That’s blackmail, pure and simple.

Her voice was flat and resigned as she echoed his thought. “I know I shouldn’t let him blackmail me, but at the moment my first consideration is Penny. There was some publicity in the beginning when Ben was shot, but, thank God, it died down when the police hit a dead end. Dillon could stir everything up again. I don’t want the news media latching on to the story, slapping Penny’s picture all over the place, and capitalizing on her trauma. Don’t you see that I really have no choice but to go along with Dillon, hoping that he’ll keep the lies to himself as long as I employ him?”

Steve wanted to tell her to call the bartender’s bluff. His temper flared just thinking about the way the unscrupulous man was using her, but he knew she was right. The tabloids would eat up this kind of story. Even if Dillon put out a bunch of lies, the damage would be done. The scenario was a familiar one. Anyone with two eyes in his head could see that Bob Henderson had feelings for Deanna Drake. Steve wondered once again if they were having an affair, or had been lovers in the past, but he knew that he’d have to let the answer come from her. He had no right to pry into her personal life unless it became evident that there was something he needed to know for her daughter’s sake. There was a fine line between his professional obligations and a personal interest in knowing about Deanna Drake’s love life.

“Maybe when Penny tells us what she knows we’ll have some answers,” she said hopefully.

“And maybe not.” Steve didn’t want to encourage any wishful thinking. “Even if we overcome the effects of the trauma, Penny’s memory may not provide us with any significant details. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Yes, of course.” She drew in a breath. “Thanks for keeping me focused.”

“You’ve been carrying a heavy load all by yourself, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “You don’t know how grateful I am that you’re willing to work with Penny. I’ll do anything to get my happy chatterbox back again.” She quickly turned away, and he suspected she hid eyes filled with tears.

Because of his own child, compassion for her heartache touched Steve and he fought an urge to reach over and take her hand. He had known from the first moment he saw her that she was a strong, determined woman, but he was only now beginning to glimpse how courageous she was.

“What kind of a sheriff is this guy Janson? Is he a good lawman?”

“On the whole, I’d say he’s as good as most sheriffs are. Tenacious. Stubborn. He’s like a bloodhound—only this time he’s following the wrong scent.” Her chin hardened. “I think Dillon’s just about convinced him that somewhere there’s proof I shot Ben.” The cords in her lovely neck tightened. “And your obvious next question, Doctor—is there proof?”

“Is there?”

“No, but I don’t blame you if you want to pack up and leave now that you know the situation.”

Do I really know the situation?

Deanna saw the question in his eyes, and turned away from it. How could she reassure him of anything? She’d searched every memory until it was threadbare, trying to find a rhyme or reason for what had happened.

Where had the horror begun?

And where would it end?

Chapter Four

Steve saw little of Deanna the next few days, and his sessions with Penny settled into a pattern. While Hobo bounded around the playroom, sniffing and wagging his scrawny tail, Penny wandered around listlessly, looking at everything but showing no desire to draw pictures or play in the sandbox or dollhouse.

Steve made certain that everything was in the same place every day. One of the hotel maids was careless about her cleaning, and was inclined to shove things around as she dusted and swept the floor, but Steve wanted the environment in the therapy room to be secure and unchanged.

Every day, after a few minutes of looking around, Penny walked over to the window, drew the drapes and then dropped onto the corner floor mat. Sometimes she would lie on her back and, with her eyes wide open, stare at the ceiling. Sometimes she would turn over on her side and watch Hobo as he snooped around the room. The dog was always interested in the snacks that Steve had ready on the low table, and pestered him for food.

“You like cookies, don’t you, Hobo?” When Steve spoke to him and patted his head, Hobo’s tail wagged as if it were going to drop off from excitement.

Knowing that Penny was watching, one morning Steve rolled a ball across the room and Hobo brought it back. They played fetch for several minutes, and Steve didn’t make any effort to include Penny in the game. In play therapy, the child made all the choices, and as frustrating as it might be, nothing could be gained by imposing choices upon Penny.

At the end of the first week of sessions, Penny still remained passive and hadn’t shown the slightest interest in anything in the playroom. He gave his usual smile to Deanna as she collected the child and dog, without giving any sign of the lack of progress he was making with her daughter.

He sighed as he opened the window drapes that Penny habitually closed. When he heard light footsteps just outside the open hall door a few minutes after Deanna had left with her daughter, he turned and saw that she was standing in the doorway.

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Sure. We’ve closed up shop for the weekend.”

It was the first time since his arrival at the hotel that she’d come anywhere near the playroom, and lately, every time he saw her around the hotel, she was too busy to do much chatting. “Want a cookie?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I just popped in for a minute, in case you wanted to tell me anything about…about the way Penny is responding.”

“I’m not sure I know how she’s responding. Not yet. Maybe you could clarify a few things for me?”

She nodded. “What would you like to know?”

“Does Penny seem to feel more comfortable in closed-in places with dim light and the window blinds drawn?”

Deanna looked puzzled. “Not at all. Where did you get that idea?”

“She doesn’t prefer the window drapes drawn in her room?”

Deanna shook her head. “Heavens no. Penny has a window seat in her bedroom and plays there all the time. Our whole apartment is light and airy. I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

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