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Silence answered him.
Yep, he was on his own with this one. He hoped and prayed he’d made the right decision. He still felt in his heart and soul that this was something he had to do, even if it meant he could lose everything. Proving Dania’s innocence was a huge gamble. But a man had to take a risk sometime in his life. In a way, he was honored that his chance would be helping Matt’s wife.
A yawn caught him. He’d better get some sleep, or he’d be worthless. He quietly closed the door, and he and Jasper went to his room. This was his childhood bedroom, where he’d found solace and the love of someone who was stable. A place where he could fight the demons of Randy and come to grips with his mother’s death. This was the room where he’d healed.
Many nights, Gran had held him as he’d cried himself to sleep. She’d tell him that she loved him to the moon and back. That always seemed to help. When he’d finally gotten past crying so much over his mother’s death, Gran had still come and sat in the rocker next to his twin bed and read to him. She read all the popular books: The Hardy Boys and Harry Potter, sprinkled with Mark Twain’s books and other classics. He’d loved listening to her soft voice.
He left his door open a crack in case Dania needed him, then collapsed onto the twin bed. Hoping a couple of hours would be enough, he set the alarm on his cell phone. Two hours was not nearly enough, but it would have to do. If he was going to find the proof Dania needed, he had little time to rest.
Chapter Sixteen
A doorbell rang, and adog barked. Dania jerked awake, wondering where she was and what was going on. Her eyes settled on a sewing machine on a table. Late morning light peeked through blue gingham curtains as the events of last night came flooding back: cuffing Brett to a tree, escaping the police at the truck stop, begging Brett to help her.
The doorbell chimed again followed by several loud knocks. More warning barks. Jasper? She hoped Brett would answer it, but maybe he wasn’t here. She glanced at the clock on the wall: eleven twenty-five. He had to be at Walter’s.
He had warned her last night not to answer the door or phone. She wanted to call to Jasper but worried that whoever was standing on the doorstep would hear her, so instead, she waited, hoping whoever it was would go away and Jasper would calm down.
Brett had left without telling her. Was he still upset? It probably wasn’t every day that someone cuffed him to a tree. But worse than that, she’d told him he was like his convicted father. It would take a while for Brett to get over what she’d said. Somehow, she had to find a way to make it up to him. She reached to swipe her hand over her face but stopped on her forehead. The bump had gone down but was still a little tender. She got up. Folding the blanket and putting it away, she quietly slipped from the room.
When she got downstairs, she found a happy-to-see-her retriever. She gave him a loving pat and then crept to the front door. Standing on tip-toes, she peered through the peephole. No one. Good. Whoever had been banging on the door had given up and left. Who could it have been? Tempted to peek out the living room window, she decided not to risk being seen and went to the small kitchen, with Jasper by her side. On the counter sat a white paper sack and a note.
Here’s breakfast. Make yourself at home. Will be back around eleven-thirty. Brett.
Dania opened the sack. A cinnamon roll from Sunrise Bakery. She retrieved it from the bag and took a big bite that practically melted in her mouth. The familiar almond flavor coupled with cinnamon made this one of her favorite breakfast foods. It had been over three years since she’d had a delicious pastry like this.
The memory of stopping at Sunrise Bakery on the morning she’d found Matthew shot tried to pull her back to the horrific scene. She wouldn’t let it. In prison, she’d relived it over and over again. Now she had a chance to change her fate. But the brush with the memory ruined her appetite, and she dropped the pastry back into the sack and folded the top.
Dania glanced at the clock on the wall: eleven thirty-five. Brett could be back any minute, and she still needed to shower. She had no idea what lay ahead of her, so she’d better make the best of being alone and in a safe place. She hurried upstairs with Jasper trailing behind her.
Brett had said she could wear his grandmother’s clothes. Which was her room? She opened the door just past the sewing room, where she’d slept. Her eyes went to a rumpled twin bed. This had to have been where Brett had stayed and had probably been his room growing up. She glanced around at a baseball bat leaned against the corner near a bookcase filled with novels. On the wall hung a poster of Wyatt Earp at the O.K. Corral and one of Bat Masterson. Both had been legendary marshals in the Wild West.
What had made Brett want to become a marshal? His father certainly hadn’t inspired him.
She’d leave that puzzle for another time. She quickly tidied the bed, then moved on to find a change of clothes.
She checked the room across the hall. With a brass bed and vanity, this had to be his grandmother’s room. Dania hurried to the closet and pulled open the folding doors. The clothes were hung according to type and color, with a lot of browns and greens. In the shoe rack were a couple of pairs of sneakers, flip flops, and stylish booties. “Go, Granny.”
Dania grabbed a dark-green button-down shirt, a pair of Levi’s, and dark-brown leather booties. She badly needed a change of underwear too.
Putting on another woman’s undergarments was pretty desperate, but Dania fit the bill. She went to the dresser and grabbed what she needed, but before closing the drawer, she noticed an envelope. Beautiful handwriting spelled Brett’s name. His grandmother must have put it in here thinking the only time he would look in her underwear drawer would be if she had died. This could be her last words to her grandson.
Should Dania leave it there? Or should she give it to him? Faced with such a dilemma, she decided to wait to make the decision. The envelope would be there after she was ready for the day.
She quickly showered. As water poured over her, her mind returned to last night and the shower at the truck stop. Images spiraled into the nightmare of her running and retreating. She’d made a good decision by bringing Brett into this, right? What else could she have done?
A noise came from downstairs. She stood still, letting water play over her as she intently listened. Could it be Brett, or had the person who had come to the door earlier returned?’
But Jasper would have barked if that were the case. Unless the dog couldn’t. She quickly turned off the shower. Water dripped from her hair and body, and she shivered as she waited, hardly breathing.
Whoever it was, she didn’t want them to find her standing here naked. She toweled off and dressed.
Another noise.
Was that a door closing?
She carefully opened the bathroom door and inched down the staircase. Staying close to the wall, she made her way to the front door. For the second time today, she peered through the peephole.
“What are you doing?” a deep manly voice said from behind.
