Linda Lee - Silver River Secrets

Lacey’s boss at the Boise Historical Society was generous about her visits to Silver River, and especially about the extra time she needed for this trip. Even if she’d wanted to stay for the celebration—which she didn’t—she wouldn’t ask for more time off.

Leaving the downtown behind, Lacey was soon in the country again. Rambling mountain ranges surrounded her, and here and there the river popped into view, sparkling in the sunlight.

Another mile brought the turnoff to Sophie’s Bed and Breakfast, where globe lights along the driveway guided Lacey to the Victorian-style house painted bright lavender with white trim.

She parked in the guest lot and pulled her suitcase on wheels up the flagstone walk to the porch. Several middle-aged guests sat in wicker chairs chatting and drinking iced tea. They exchanged “hellos” with Lacey as she passed by.

Inside the house, Sophie Bennett came from around the counter with arms outstretched. “Lacey! I’ve been watching for you.”

“Hello, Sophie.” Lacey returned Sophie’s hug, catching a whiff of her lilac-scented perfume.

Sophie stood back and held Lacey at arm’s length. “Good to see you.”

“You, too.”

Sophie’s bright blue T-shirt and orange slacks fit smoothly over her trim figure. An orange scarf holding back shoulder-length blond hair revealed a hint of gray at the temples.

Sophie returned to her post behind the counter to check Lacey in. That completed, she took a key from a drawer and motioned to Lacey. “Come on. I’ll take you up to your room.”

They went down a carpeted hallway to the stairs. The rooms they passed offered Lacey glimpses of wood paneling and wallpaper, brocaded fabrics and patterned carpets, hurricane lamps and heavy draperies. The B and B had long been a dream of Sophie’s, and when she finally convinced her husband, Hugh, to buy the place, she fixed it up in style.

“Sorry to hear about your grandmother’s accident,” Sophie said over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs. “How’s she doing?”

“Determined to walk again, but agrees it’s time to be in a place where someone can look after her.”

“There’s no better place around here than Riverview.”

“I know. We’re so lucky the owners decided to build their retirement home here rather than in Milton.”

On the second floor, Sophie stopped at one of the rooms and slipped her key into the lock. “Here we are.”

Lacey followed her inside, her gaze taking in a queen-size bed with a colorful patchwork quilt, an armoire, an overstuffed chair and a round rosewood table. A Tiffany lamp decorated with yellow roses hung over the table.

“I love it!” Lacey exclaimed.

“Fabulous view, too. Take a look.”

Lacey parked her suitcase next to the luggage rack and followed Sophie to the window. In the courtyard below, water gushed from a stone fountain, and walkways wound through gardens full of flowers. Beyond lay the river and neighboring farms.

Then her gaze landed on an all-too-familiar copse of willow trees and a two-story house with peeling white paint. Her stomach dropped. “Oh...”

“What’s the matter?” Sophie’s voice rose in alarm.

“Our old house. Gram’s house.”

“You can see it from here?” Sophie peered out the window. “Oh, my. Lacey, I’m sorry. I never realized...” Sophie pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at Lacey. “You don’t have to stay in this room. You can move across the hall.”

Lacey shook her head. “No, I want this one.”

“But to be reminded whenever you look out the window...”

“Sophie, not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened in that house.”

“I’m sorry, honey, so sorry. But I do wish you could put the past behind you.”

Lacey shook her head and bit her lower lip. “Not possible.”

Sophie let a moment of silence pass and then said, “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t want to change rooms, I’ll let you get settled. You probably want to go see your grandmother right away.”

“Yes, I’m having dinner with her, but that still gives me time to unpack.”

“If you need help bringing in more stuff, Hugh is around somewhere.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Lacey lifted her suitcase onto the luggage rack and unzipped it.

Sophie walked toward the door but then stopped and turned. “Don’t forget the party tonight.”

Lacey looked up. “Party?”

“Yes, I mentioned it when you made your reservation. We’re having a kickoff party for Silver River Days, here in our courtyard.”

“Oh, right. I saw the banner in town. But I don’t think—”

“Please come, Lacey.”

Lacey pressed her lips together. “But I won’t be here for the celebration itself. And, well, you know I feel uncomfortable at town gatherings.”

Sophie slowly shook her head. “Lacey, it’s been ten years. Do you really think people are looking at you and thinking only that your father was a...was...”

Lacey closed her eyes. “Go ahead and say it, Sophie. A murderer. You, along with everybody else in this town, believe that my father shot and killed Rory Dalton’s father in cold blood. But he didn’t. I know he didn’t.”

“The jury convicted him.”

“They were wrong.”

Sophie stepped close and put her arm around Lacey’s shoulders. “You know Hugh and I were friends with your parents, hon. We used to go out together. And, okay, your dad was a hothead sometimes, but we put up with him. No question we loved your mom. Nobody mourned her death more than we did. I miss her to this day. But don’t you think it’s time for you to move on?”

“If only I could prove his innocence...”

“Let it go, Lacey.”

Lacey squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

* * *

CARRYING A VASE of pink roses, Lacey knocked on the door to her grandmother’s apartment at the Riverview Retirement Community.

“Come in,” came the cheery reply.

She opened the door and stepped into the apartment’s compact kitchenette and from there into the living room.

Remylon Whitfield, looking crisp and cool in a pink cotton blouse and white slacks, sat in her wheelchair near the patio door. She held out her arms. “Lacey, love! I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Good to be here, Gram.” Lacey set her purse and the flowers on a table and then hurried to Remy’s side and gave her a warm hug.

“I’ve missed you,” Gram said when they ended their embrace. She glanced over Lacey’s shoulder and clapped her hands. “You brought me some roses. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The best housewarming present I could think of.”

“They’re perfect. Did you get your room at Sophie’s? You’re staying for dinner here, though, right? We can play Scrabble afterward.”

Gram’s eyes behind her glasses were hopeful.

“I should have time for a game or two, although Sophie wants me to come to their Silver River Days party tonight. I told her I’d think about it.”

“You should go, dear.”

Lacey sighed. “I just don’t feel comfortable in this town.”

“I know, honey. Sometimes, when I get to thinking about the past, I don’t, either.” Gram looked down at her hands.

“But it’s different for you. Having your son-in-law accused of murder is not the same as having your father, your flesh and blood, accused.”

“Not accused, dear. Convicted,” Gram said in a reproving tone.

Lacey opened her mouth to argue but then clamped her jaw shut. No sense in firing up their old disagreement, especially when she’d just arrived. Her gaze landed on two cardboard boxes sitting beside the patio doors. “Looks like you’ve already done some moving.”

Gram nodded. “Cousin Bessie helped me gather some things together before she left. Vernon brought the boxes over when he came to pick her up.”