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  Chapter Five

  Beth slammed the frog head on the reception counter, squishing the hat. “Where did it come from?”

  The hotel clerk’s eyes popped from their sockets. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I have no idea how it got in your bed. Perhaps it had been washed with the sheets and the maid thought it belonged to you.”

  “This—” she shook the head at him until some white stuffing fell onto the countertop “—does not look like it’s been through an industrial washing machine. It looks brand-new, except for the fact that it’s been ripped from its body.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t know. I can talk to the maids in the morning.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Beth gulped and swiveled her head to the side. What was Duke doing down here? Might as well get it over with.

  “I found this—” she thrust the frog head toward him “—in my bed when I got back to my room.”

  He held out his hand and she dropped the head into his palm.

  “What the hell? Is this the frog you bought earlier that was stolen from your car?”

  “Stolen?” The clerk turned another shade of red. “I can assure you, we don’t know anything about any theft.”

  Beth released a long breath. “I don’t know if it’s the exact same toy I bought, but it’s the same kind. So if the thief who broke into my car didn’t put it in my room, it’s a helluva coincidence that someone else did.”

  The hotel clerk reached for the phone. “Should we call the sheriff’s department?”

  Duke tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling of the lobby. “Do you have security cameras?”

  “Just in the parking lot, sir. We can check that footage to see if anyone drove into the lot without coming through the lobby.”

  “That’s a good idea. It would’ve been within the past ninety minutes. Do you have a security guard on duty...” He glanced at the man’s name tag. “...Gregory?”

  “This is Timberline. No security guard.” Gregory lifted his hands. “Sheriff’s department?”

  “Will they come out for a stuffed frog head?” Beth crossed her arms over her flannel pj’s, recognizing the ridiculousness of that statement. At least she didn’t feel as if she were choking as she had from the moment she’d seen that frog in her bed. Duke had that effect on her—a calming, steadying presence.

  Too bad she had the opposite effect on him.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “You heard Gregory. This is Timberline. They’ll come out for a stuffed frog. It’s not just the head. It’s the fact that someone broke into your room and put it in your bed...and the smashed car window before that. You want to report and document all this.”

  Gregory picked up the phone. “I’ll call it in. We may learn more tomorrow when the housekeeping staff comes in. I’ll make sure we question all of them thoroughly. The night crew was here until about an hour ago, so they could’ve been here when the, uh, frog was put in your room.”

  “Thanks, Gregory.” Beth tucked her messy hair behind her ears and flashed him one of her TV smiles. “I’m sorry I got in your face earlier. That frog rattled me.”

  “I understand, ma’am. If you and the...gentleman—” he nodded toward Duke “—want to help yourselves to something from the self-serve concession while you wait for the sheriffs, it’s on the house.”

  “Don’t mind if we do. Thanks, Gregory.” She crooked her finger at Duke and then charged across the lobby to the small lit fridge and rows of snacks, her rubber flip-flops smacking the tile floor.

  She yanked open the fridge door with Duke hovering over her shoulder. “You’re still in your pajamas.”

  Leaning forward, she studied the labels on the little bottles of wine with the screw tops. “Excuse me. I didn’t have time for full hair, makeup and wardrobe once I realized someone had been sneaking around my hotel room beheading frogs.”

  She wrapped her fingers around a chilled bottle of chardonnay and turned on him, almost landing in his arms. She thrust the bottle between them. “What were you doing wandering around the hotel?”

  His dark eyes widened. “Are you accusing me of planting the frog? I was with you, remember?”

  “Now who’s being sensitive? The thought never crossed my mind, but you were headed toward the stairwell the last time I saw you.”

  “I stepped outside for some air. My room was stuffy and I couldn’t sleep.” He held up the frog head. “It’s a good thing I did. You looked ready to gouge out poor Gregory’s eyes.”

  “I was spooked.” She ducked back into the fridge. “Do you want a beer or one of these fine wines?”

  “I’ll take a beer.” He ran his hand down the length of her arm. “Must’ve freaked you out seeing that frog in your bed.”

  She handed him a cold beer. “It did. The fact that it was just his head made it worse. Was that some kind of warning?”

  “Is this story worth it?” He took the mini wine bottle from her and twisted off the lid. “For whatever reason, someone doesn’t want you digging into this case, and this person is willing to put you through hell to get that point across.”

  “Would you quit if someone started warning you?”

  He twisted off his own cap and took a swallow of beer. “It’s different. If someone started warning the FBI off a cold case, it would give us reason to believe we were on the right track.”

  “Maybe I’m on the right track.”

  “You just got here. It seems to me that some person or persons don’t want a story on Timberline. Having the FBI investigate is a different ball game. Maybe these warnings to you are designed to stop you from dragging the town of Timberline through the mud again. You know, reducing the real-estate prices, like Bill said.”

  She took a sip of wine. “You saw the people at the restaurant. Most were eager to help.”

  “There could be two factions in town—one group wants the attention and the other doesn’t. The ones that don’t want the limelight have started a campaign against you—a personal one.” He clinked his bottle with hers. “Give it up, Beth. Move on to something else. I told you. I have the cold-case world at my fingertips now and can turn you on to a new, sexy case.”

  She took another pull straight from her wine bottle and gritted her teeth as she swallowed. “I’m not going to quit, Duke. I want to investigate this case.”

  “Evening, Ms. St. Regis.” Deputy Unger swept his hat from his head. “Gregory told us you had some more trouble tonight.”

  “It’s the stuffed frog stolen from her car.” Duke held out the frog head. “Someone planted it in her hotel room.”

  Unger whistled. “Someone really wants you gone—I mean off this story.”

  “Can you check the tape from the security camera in the parking lot?” Beth put her wine bottle behind her back just in case Unger thought she was a hysterical drunk. “Gregory said the hotel had cameras out there. Maybe someone will appear on tape who’s out of place.”

  “I spoke to him on the way in. Gregory’s getting that ready for us right now. Let’s go up to your room and check it out. See if there are any signs of a break-in.”

  Duke proffered the frog head on the palm of his hand. “The frog’s been manhandled by a bunch of people, but maybe you can get some prints from it.”

  Unger pulled a plastic bag from the duffel over his shoulder and shook it out. “Drop it in. We’ll have a look.”

  They all trooped up to her hotel room and Beth inserted the card with shaky fingers. She didn’t know what to expect on the other side of the door.

  Nothing.

  Everything was the way she’d left it, covers pulled back on the bed and the TV blasting. She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. “It was there, on the middle of the bed, beneath the covers.”

  Unger looked up from studying the d
oor. “No signs of forced entry. You’re on the fourth floor. Does the window open?”

  “No.”

  He had a fingerprinting kit with him and dusted the door handle and the doorjamb. Once he finished asking a few more questions, he packed up his stuff. “I’ll have a look at the footage now. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

  Duke stopped him. “One more thing, Deputy Unger. A Realtor by the name of Bill Raney was making some threats against Beth in Sutter’s tonight.”

  “We’ll talk to him. That man’s been on a downward slide lately. I can’t imagine him out breaking car windows and sneaking into hotel rooms, but you never know what people will do when their backs are against the wall.”

  Beth sighed. Why did this have to be happening on the most important case of her life? Maybe if she just explained herself publicly. She honestly didn’t care who had kidnapped her twenty-five years ago and she wasn’t interested in putting Timberline in the spotlight again. She just wanted to confirm her identity. She wanted to go to the Brices with proof. She wanted to go back to a loving home.

  She’d already made a mistake. She should’ve done her sleuthing on the sly. She should’ve come to Timberline as a tourist, taken up fishing or hiking or boating. She’d just figured she had the best cover. Nobody would have to know her ulterior motive. Nothing would have to get back to the Brices until she was sure.

  “Ms. St. Regis?”

  She looked up into Deputy Unger’s face, creased with concern. “Are you okay? Gregory offered to move you to another room.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” Duke tossed her suitcase onto the bed. “In fact, the room next to mine on the second floor is empty.”

  Beth’s mouth gaped open. Duke must really be worried if he wanted her rooming right next to him. Today in the forest he’d acted like he’d wanted to strangle her.

  “That might not be a bad idea—if you’re insisting on continuing with this story.” Unger slung his bag over his shoulder and walked to the door.

  “Deputy Unger, who exactly doesn’t want the old case dredged up from the cold-case files?” Holding her breath, she watched his face. He didn’t. He’d made that clear before.

  He shrugged. “People like Bill. People with a lot to lose—think property values, reputations, businesses—those are the people who want to put this all behind us. The executives at Evergreen about had a fit when Wyatt Carson kidnapped those kids and struck fear into the hearts of their employees—the people they’d lured here with a promise of safety and clean living.”

  “I don’t see how a crime that occurred twenty-five years ago can still tarnish the luster of a city.” She grabbed her vest from the back of the chair and dropped it next to her bag on the bed.

  “C’mon, Beth.” Duke scratched his stubble. “You’ve been doing the show long enough to realize what can happen to a town when all the dirty laundry is hung out for everyone to see.”

  “Maybe I won’t end up doing the story. Maybe I won’t even call my crew out here—but it won’t be because someone wants to scare me off. It’ll be because I decide to call it quits.”

  “Whatever you say, Ms. St. Regis.” Unger pulled open the door. “Just keep calling us, especially if these pranks start to escalate.”

  “Escalate?” Beth licked her lips. “It’s just a story, just a town’s rep.”

  “You’d be surprised how far people will go to protect what’s theirs.”

  She and Duke ended up following Unger back to the reception desk to switch her room to the second floor—next to Duke’s.

  Unger scanned the footage while they waited and shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone coming in or out of that parking lot is accounted for as a guest of the hotel.”

  Gregory slipped her the new card key. “As I said, Ms. St. Regis, I’ll question housekeeping tomorrow morning and we’ll try to get to the bottom of how someone got into your room. It won’t happen again.”

  “Damn right it won’t.”

  Duke got that fierce look he must’ve learned on the mean streets of Philly and Beth shivered. It meant a lot to have a man like Duke on your side—if you weren’t stupid enough to throw it all away.

  Gregory even looked a little worried. “I’ll keep you posted, Ms. St. Regis.”

  Duke took the suitcase handle from her and dragged her bag toward the elevator.

  She shuffled after him, yawning. “I am so ready to call it a night.”

  Duke gave her a sideways glance and stabbed the button for the second floor. The elevator rumbled into action and Beth closed her eyes. The wine had made her sleepy, and she felt the lure of a comfy bed with no surprises in it, although she wouldn’t mind one surprise—a prince instead of a frog.

  The elevator lurched to a sharp halt and Beth’s eyes flew open. “Whoa. This thing needs service.”

  The elevator had stopped moving but the doors remained shut.

  “Oh, God, not another prank—as Unger called it.” Her gaze darted to Duke’s face, still fierce but set, his jaw hard.

  “I’m the one who stopped the elevator.”

  “What?” She braced her hand against the wall of the car. “Are you crazy? What did you do that for?”

  Duke crossed his arms and widened his stance as if she could pull off an escape from the car.

  “You’re going to tell me what you’re really doing in Timberline, and you’re going to tell me now or this elevator isn’t going anywhere.”

  Chapter Six

  Duke felt a twinge of guilt in his gut as Beth’s pale face blanched even more. Was she claustrophobic, too? He knew she had those panic attacks, and if she started down that road he’d cave. He had a weakness for this woman.

  “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to do a Cold Case Chronicles episode on the Timberline Trio—come hell or high water.”

  “Cut it, Beth. That’s not your kind of story and we both know it.” He leveled a finger at her. “You’re up to something. You may have fooled me two years ago, but I’m tuned in to the Beth St. Regis line of baloney now.”

  Her eye twitched and her tongue darted from her mouth. “It’s personal.”

  He rolled his shoulders. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I knew there was more to this story. Start talking.”

  “If I do, will you help me?”

  He tilted his head back and eyed the ceiling. “Just like you to turn the tables. I’m not agreeing to anything. I just want to know the truth—for a change. Don’t you think you owe me the truth?”

  Tears brightened her eyes, and the tip of her nose turned red.

  He scooped in a deep breath. If she shed even one tear, he’d be finished. But that was how she’d gotten around him last time—pushed all his buttons.

  “C’mon, Beth. What are you doing here?”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, she covered her eyes with one hand. “You’re right. It’s not just the Timberline Trio case that brings me here, but in a way it is.”

  “Is this going to be a guessing game?”

  “No.” She sniffled. “I do owe you the truth, but do we have to do this here, like I’m some suspect you’re interrogating?”

  He punched the button. “Sorry about that. I just wanted to get your attention. You’re not...?”

  “Claustrophobic?” Her lips trembled into a smile. “Sort of.”

  The doors opened onto the second floor and he ushered her out of the car in front of him and then wheeled her suitcase down the hall after her, his gaze taking in the way the soft flannel draped over her derriere. Beth was probably the only woman he knew who could make flannel pajamas look sexy.

  She stopped in front of the room next to his and swiped the card key. As she fumbled with the door, he reached around her and pushed it open.

&nbs
p; “You want me to check for frogs in the bed?”

  “My tormentor doesn’t know my new room number, but go ahead anyway.”

  In three strides he reached the king-size bed and whipped back the covers. “Frog-free.”

  She climbed onto the bed and crossed her legs beneath her. “You ready?”

  Pulling the chair from the desk in the corner, he straddled it. “I’m always ready for the truth.”

  “You know I’m adopted.”

  “And you hit the jackpot with a set of rich parents.” He held up his hands. “I know they weren’t the best parents, but at least they gave you all the creature comforts your teenage mother couldn’t give you.”

  “I didn’t have a teenage mother.”

  “What?” He hunched over the back of the chair. “You told me your birth mother was an unwed teen who gave you up to a wealthy couple for a better life and then disappeared.”

  “I lied.”

  He flinched as if she’d thrown a knife at his heart. What didn’t she lie about?

  “Okay. Who was your mother and what does this all have to do with Timberline?”

  “Duke, I don’t know who my birth parents are. My adoptive parents, the Kings, never told me.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want you running after some bio parents and getting disappointed.”

  She snorted. “I doubt that.”

  “They wouldn’t give you any information? The adoption agency? A birth certificate?”

  “I...I think my adoption was illegal. My birth certificate is fraudulent. The Kings are listed as my biological parents. The only reason I even knew I was adopted was because I overheard them talking once. When I confronted them about it, they admitted it but refused to give me any more information.”

  “That’s strange, but what does it all have to do with Timber...?” Her implication smacked him on the back of the head. She couldn’t be serious.

  “That’s right.” She dragged a pillow into her lap and hugged it. “I think I’m one of the Timberline Trio—Heather Brice.”