Hard Rain (18 page)

“I won’t even ask how you got it.” Frank glanced at the page and the cryptic message written there.

“Will Sanders wrote that. We think it has something to do with Maggie being raped about five months before she was killed. She didn’t report the rape but it was more than one individual. We wouldn’t have known about it except that Brody was able to get his uncle to tell him.”

He tried to hide his surprise at the rape and the five-month inference since Maggie had been five months pregnant.

“With that information, we found out from Dr. Franklin, who was Maggie’s doctor, that there had been more than one rapist.”

Frank mentally kicked himself. He’d been planning to talk to the doctor about Grace. He hadn’t known Maggie had been a patient of hers. They were right about being able to get information he hadn’t been privy to.

“Well, you two have certainly been busy,” he said as he closed the yearbook.

“Also, Maggie kept a diary. It seems to be missing,” Brody said.

Frank nodded. “You think she named her attackers in the diary?”

Brody shook his head. “My uncle found it and read some of it, he told us. He said it didn’t name the men. But I think Maggie wrote how she felt about JD Hamilton. I think that’s what my uncle doesn’t want coming to light, but I can’t be sure. He swears he doesn’t have the diary anymore.”

The sheriff sat back, considering the two of them. They’d done a hell of a job gathering information. But they’d also taken quite a chance. This new wrinkle in Maggie’s story proved something he’d known was possible—that her killer might still be alive.

Which meant these two had already put themselves in danger. “I appreciate what you both have done and that you’ve brought this to me. However, this is an ongoing homicide investigation, and you don’t want to get on the wrong side of the law.”

Harper laughed, then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, but being on the wrong side of the law right now is the least of my worries.”

“I will find out who killed Maggie McTavish,” Frank said, hoping to hell it was true. Otherwise innuendo and gossip would condemn JD Hamilton forever. They might anyway, even if Frank found out JD was innocent. People believed what they wanted to.

“Also, what you’re doing could be very dangerous.”

Harper shook her head. “You’re the second person to mention that. Who is it you think I have to fear?”

“That’s just it...we don’t know who’s responsible, and while that person may already be deceased there could be family members who don’t want the truth coming out.”

“If what everyone believes is true and my grandfather killed her, then it seems I have nothing to worry about,” Harper said.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Even people in your own family might be reluctant for the truth to surface.”

“You mean my father? Or are you referring to my mother.”

The sheriff rose. “I hope you take my advice. I don’t want to see anyone else get killed.”

“You have to find the boys who raped her,” Harper said.

“I’m going to do my best.”

“Do you know whose baby she was carrying?” Brody asked.

Frank shook his head. “Not yet.”

“There’s one more thing,” Brody added. “The night Maggie left home we believe she thought she was getting married.”

Frank remembered what Bobby Barnes had told him. Had Maggie planned to elope with Bobby? If so, what had happened?

The rape changed everything. Now, more than ever, he needed to know whose baby Maggie had been carrying.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JD
FOUND
M
AGGIE
curled into the warm spot between the rocks. He had followed her up to the lake after seeing her ride by earlier. She’d ridden the way she had as a girl, hell-bent for leather. A glimpse of her face told him that there was trouble at home.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he knelt down beside her.

She angrily wiped away her tears. “I’m fine.” Her face was red from crying and he could see that she was anything but all right.

When he touched her chin and turned her face up to his, he saw the bruise. “Who did that to you?” he demanded.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Like hell it doesn’t. Tell me.”

She met his gaze, holding it as she said, “My father found my diary.”

“Oh, Maggie.” He groaned.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t mention you by name. But now he knows that I’m in love with a man who will never leave his wife and that I don’t care. That I will take whatever time I can have with you.” She reached for him, but he caught her hands and held them and her away.

“It’s wrong. We’ve known that from the start. Nothing good can come of this.”

“That’s what my father said. He said you would destroy me.”

JD nodded. “That is my fear. You need to go to college. You need to—”

She jerked her hands free as she got to her feet. “I need you and if you had the guts, you’d admit that you need me,” she said, bringing her fist down over her heart. “This is beyond age, beyond all the bullshit in our lives. You know how you feel about me and I know how I feel about you. That isn’t going to change no matter how many times you push me away.”

“We shouldn’t have gotten so close,” he said, pushing to his feet. They stood only inches from each other in the shelter of the rocks. The wind sighed in the tops of the pines that formed a canopy over them. Patches of summer-blue sky peeked through the boughs as puffy white clouds floated past on a warm breeze.

“But we did get close,” she whispered.

He’d known that if he kept coming up here, if he kept spending time with her, if they kept opening up to each other, it would happen. He reached over, hooked his hand behind her neck and drew her to him, holding her in his arms. Her skin felt warm from the sun. She smelled of the outdoors and the Montana summer day.

“I love you, too,” he said from his heart. “God help me, I love you.”

* * *

A
STIFF
WIND
blew from the north as Brody drove out of town. “Harper, you heard what the sheriff said.”

“I know. But there is one place I have to go before I can quit searching for the truth.”

He shot her a look.

“The homestead house where my father and mother lived with JD and Grace for a while right after they got married. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe there is something there that will clear him.” She shrugged. “I know I’m naive. Everyone tells me so. But after what we’ve found out I’m more convinced than ever that he had nothing to do with her death.”

Brody nodded. “Tell me how to get there.”

The Maynard House, as Harper’s father called it, was at the end of a narrow dirt road lined with thick tumbleweeds that had gotten caught in the fence.

Harper had worn a jacket, the temperature below freezing this morning. Since it had snowed every month of the year at one time or another, spring in Montana was iffy at best. One day it was hot, the next it was freezing.

But the cold that Harper felt as she watched Brody maneuver the abandoned road had nothing to do with the weather. When she’d told him about the old house, he’d insisted she not go alone.

“If I find something—”

“A house that has been sitting empty that long could be dangerous,” he’d said, cutting her off. “Not to mention, there could be rattlers nesting in there, rotten boards, old wells you might stumble into.”

“I’ll try not to stumble into anything dangerous.” She couldn’t help the edge to her voice. There had been moments when he seemed to see her for the woman she’d grown into. Other times, though, he treated her like a child. Worse, a harebrained one.

“I want to go with you,” he’d said as if realizing he’d misspoken. “I...worry about you, okay?”

She supposed that was okay, though in truth, she wanted more. “Fine. But I want to go down there right away.” She couldn’t explain her hurry. Just a feeling that...that what? That they and the sheriff weren’t the only ones searching for evidence into Maggie’s death.

Now as Brody’s pickup rattled along the rough, abandoned road, she felt her tension climbing. Growing up, no one had ever mentioned that her grandparents had ever lived in this house—the original homestead that her father had grown up in. It seemed strange to her that they wouldn’t keep it up even a little.

Through a break in the pines, she saw a roofline. Brody slowed the truck as the house came into view. To her surprise it was built of stone and was much larger than she had expected it to be. Two stories, it sat in a gully surrounded by tall trees. No wonder she hadn’t known it was here.

“So you’ve never been here before?” Brody asked, also sounding surprised by the house.

“I had no idea it was even here.” Hamilton Ranch was massive in size, so that was one reason. Also, she and her sisters had never been interested in the houses that had come with the numerous smaller ranches that her father had bought up over the years. Often hired hands would live in them.

But this house was nothing like the others. First it was stone. The others were all wood frame. Also it was much older, much more...foreboding. The stone walls had grayed, and the wood shake roof was almost black. In the shade of the trees, there was something ominous about the structure.

Brody cut the engine. “So this is where they lived.”

Harper nodded. “I’m sure this is a wild-goose chase. The house is probably full of snakes and mice, like you said.” Now that he was here with her, she was relieved. She would have gone in alone but was glad she didn’t have to.

Brody let out a breath and opened his door. “Let’s go see what’s inside.”

As he walked down a short overgrown path, Harper followed. The wind swayed the tree boughs over their heads, moaning and creaking loudly. The front door was a large wooden door. She just hoped the house wasn’t locked now that they were here. She hadn’t thought to look for a key to a house she hadn’t even known existed until recently.

“The glass in the windows is still intact,” he commented as they reached the front porch. The wooden planking groaned under their feet as they moved across it. Brody tried the door. It swung open. Icy cold air smelling of age seemed to rush out at them.

Harper couldn’t believe her eyes. The house was full of furniture; in fact, it looked as if whoever had lived here had walked out one day and just forgotten to return or—

“You’re sure no one is living here?” Brody asked, sending a chill through her.

“Just ghosts.” She moved deeper into the large living area, but pulled up short when she saw the wheelchair in front of the fireplace. Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse bumped up.

Beside her, Brody let out a soft curse. “Okay, this is creepy.”

“I wanted to see where they’d lived, but I never expected this.”

He shook his head. “Your father and mother lived here for a while, right?”

“The first few months of their marriage, according to my mother. Then she got pregnant and they moved into one of the other houses on the ranch while Dad was having our house built.”

“So your grandparents were living here alone when your grandmother died.” He looked over at her. “She died in this house?”

Harper nodded and looked toward the stairs. “Then my grandfather had his car accident shortly after that...” She looked around. “I thought that if there is a clue to what was going on with them before they died, then it might still be in this house.”

He nodded. “Where do you want to start?”

She looked toward the stairs again. “If my grandfather had something to hide and my grandmother was confined to that wheelchair...”

“Let’s start upstairs, then.”

They had started across the hardwood floor when Brody suddenly grabbed her arm and said, “Look!”

She turned to see what he was pointing at. Footprints in the thick layer of dust that covered everything. At first all she saw were the two sets—hers and Brody’s. Then she saw the boot prints.

“Someone else has already been here.”

* * *

W
ILL
S
ANDERS
WORKED
as an insurance agent in a small office off the main drag. Today he was dressed in jeans, boots, a white shirt and a turquoise stone bolo tie, and had the look of a man who had only stopped into his office and was about to leave.

Frank had tried to call him several times to make an appointment to talk to him, but Will hadn’t answered his phone. Today, after talking to Harper and Brody, he’d decided to surprise him.

Surprise was the first expression that crossed Will’s face. Regret was the second. “Sorry, but I’m on my way out,” Will said, grabbing up some papers as he took a step toward the door.

“I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me,” Frank said as he sat down on the edge of Will’s desk. “We can either talk here or I can take you to the station, but we
are
going to talk.”

Will sighed and turned to face him. “I have an appointment—”

Frank shoved the phone on the desk toward him. “Why don’t you call and tell your...appointment that you’re going to be a little late. This won’t take long. It will take longer if I have to ask you to accompany me down to the sheriff’s office.”

“Fine.” He slammed the papers down on the desk. “If this is about Maggie—”

“You know it’s about Maggie, which makes me wonder why you’ve been avoiding me. Makes me wonder if you have something to hide.”

Will did his best to look innocent. He’d been a local athlete who’d made a name for himself in high school. He still looked pretty good even after all these years, his dark hair not showing any gray, his body still trim and fit.

“I don’t know anything about Maggie’s—”

“Murder? Or her pregnancy? Or her burial on Hamilton Ranch?”

“As I was saying, I don’t know
anything
. I hadn’t dated Maggie in years by then.” He shrugged. “If that’s all you want...”

“Actually, I want something else.” Frank pulled the DNA sample kit from his pocket.

Will licked his lips as he stared at it.

“Given what you just told me, you shouldn’t have a problem giving me your DNA.”

* * *

T
HE
DAY
HAD
started out cold but was heating up fast. Inside the old farmhouse it was sweltering. Harper felt her clothing stick to her as she climbed the stairs to the second floor of the old homestead house. There were two bedrooms upstairs with a small bath between them. She peered in the first one. It contained two bureaus and a bed. The wallpaper, a yellow flower print, had faded almost to white.

Harper moved to the first dresser and opened one drawer after another, finding them all empty. She could feel Brody watching her from the doorway. This floor was hot and smelled musty. Like the lower floor, everything was covered with a thick coat of dust.

She thought of Maggie’s room. Flannigan had left it exactly as it was out of love for his daughter. Why had her father left this house like this? It felt as if he’d simply abandoned it, wanting to forget the people who’d lived here.

The second chest of drawers was also empty. She checked the closet and when she turned, Brody was no longer in the doorway.

As she left the room, she glanced in the tiny bathroom. She could hear him in the second bedroom. Drawers opened and closed methodically. When she joined him, she found him standing by the window.

“This place has already been searched,” he said before turning around. “Whoever it was might have already found whatever he was looking for.”

Or
she
was looking for. Harper thought of her mother. Even though she knew Brody had probably already looked, she stepped over to the closet and peered in. It was larger than the other one so she had to step inside to see if it was really empty. There appeared to be several old shirts still on hangers. Her grandfather’s? She felt in the pockets. Nothing. The floorboards creaked under her feet as she turned to step back out.

Brody looked up at her as if something had suddenly come to him. “Did you hear that?”

Obviously, she hadn’t. She shook her head and listened, assuming he’d heard a vehicle coming, but she heard nothing.

He stepped to her, motioning her aside as he stepped into the closet. Again the floorboards creaked. He dropped down to run his hands over the boards before pulling out his pocketknife.

Harper watched him pry at the boards until he was able to free one. As he felt around in the hole, she held her breath. A moment later, he pulled out what looked like a rolled-up sheet of thick paper bound with a rubber band.

“What is it?” she asked as he rose and carried it over to the bed before removing the band. “A drawing,” she said, answering her own question. “A drawing of my grandfather.” She didn’t need to ask who had drawn it even before she’d seen that it was signed, “With love, Maggie.”

She felt her heart drop. JD had hidden the drawing in the floor of the closet. There was no longer any way of denying that he and Maggie had had a relationship of some kind. That he’d hidden it—and this drawing—couldn’t have made him look more guilty.

* * *

“Y
OU
LOOK
TIRED
,” Nettie said when her husband came home. She’d waited up for him, worried but also curious. Everyone now knew the body that had been found on Hamilton Ranch was Margaret “Maggie” McTavish’s and the rumors were flying like grasshoppers in July.