.
them again.
“Hey, don’t worry,” J.T. said gently when Maude Ann’s eyes grew suspiciously moist. “I’ll keep in touch. I promise.”
“You’d better,” she warned. “Because if you don’t I’ll come get you and haul you back.”
“So, when are you leaving?” Matt asked.
“Actually, I’m on my way now. I just stopped by to let you know I’m going. And, uh…there is one other thing you should know. I’ve decided to take a stab at looking for our missing sibling.”
Matt frowned, and J.T. waited for him to object. From the beginning Matt had not been gung-ho about locating their other triplet. Though he was more flexible since Maude Ann had come into his life, he still resisted change and detested any sort of upheaval in his personal life. A legacy, J.T. suspected, from their birth mother deserting them when they were toddlers.
“If you want to search, that’s your decision. But I think you’re setting yourself an impossible task. With so few clues and sealed adoption records, where do you even start?”
“Actually…I already have.” J.T. reached inside his shirt and pulled out the jagged piece of a medallion that he wore on a chain around his neck. Matt wore a similar one that fit perfectly with J.T.’s, forming two thirds of a silver disk. The medallion pieces had been given to them by their birth mother. “A few weeks back I posted a notice on an Internet missing-persons bulletin board, asking if anyone knew, or knew of, someone who owned a medallion piece like the ones we have. I also included a drawing of the missing section.
“I’ve already received quite a few responses. Some of them were bogus and most of the rest turned out to be nothing, but one seems promising. Here, take a look at this.” J.T. pulled a square of paper from his wallet and handed it to Matt. “I downloaded this about three weeks ago.”
Matt unfolded the paper and began to read aloud.
“The man you are looking for is Zach Mahoney. Your best chance of locating him will be through his sister, Kate Mahoney, who operates a bed-and-breakfast in Gold Fever, Colorado. Zach is a drifter, but he shows up now and then at the B&B.
“I advise you not to reveal that you’re looking for him. The Mahoneys, particularly Zach, are suspects in a criminal case. Kate is protective of her brother, and if either of them suspects someone is looking for Zach, he will go to ground.”
Frowning, Matt looked up from the paper and shot J.T. a hard look. “This isn’t very encouraging.”
“I know.”
“It appears that at best the man’s a bum. At worst, a crook. Are you sure you want to locate him?”
J.T. sighed. “To tell you the truth, no. But I don’t have a choice. I don’t think either of us has. Until we find him, we’re always going to wonder. Face it, Matt, the three of us share a bond, like it or not.”
Matt’s mouth firmed into a grim line, and J.T. saw his jaw tighten. “I guess you’re right. I just hope we’re not buying ourselves a load of trouble.”
“You two do realize that this could just be someone with a grudge against this Zach Mahoney person, don’t you?” Maude Ann said. “Whoever posted this anonymous reply could just be trying to stir up trouble for him. It could even be that he’s not your brother at all.”
“Yeah, I know. Either way, though, I have to find out.”
“So, what are you going to do now?” Matt asked.
“Now? Now I’m going to do just what I told you. I’m going to go find a nice, peaceful place and write.” His gaze swept back and forth between Matt and Maude Ann. “From what I could learn about it, Gold Fever, Colorado, sounds as though it will suit just fine.”
Chapter Two
Kate Mahoney pushed her shopping cart through the aisles of Hendricks Grocery with single-minded purpose: to get her shopping done as quickly as possible and make her escape.
Luckily, today the only other customers in the store were Gert Krueger and Jonell Abbott; although, that was bad enough.
If Gert had her way, Kate and her brother would be rotting behind bars. Jonell wasn’t quite so obvious, or so vocal, but her animosity was just as strong. Both women shot her withering glares whenever she passed them in the aisles.
Otto Hendricks’s mouth thinned when Kate pushed her cart up to the checkout stand and started unloading her groceries. Neither he nor his wife, Shirley, spoke, nor did Kate. Keeping her expression blank, she transferred her purchases onto the counter while Otto rang them up on the ornate, old cash register. Like everything else in Gold Fever, the machine was a relic.
Shirley bagged Kate’s groceries, her face pinched up like a prune. When her husband finished ringing up the items he curtly announced the total, and without a word Kate counted out the required amount in cash and loaded the sacks into her cart.
Neither Otto nor Shirley offered to help, nor did they wish her goodbye when she turned to leave. As Kate opened the door and pushed her cart out onto the sidewalk, she heard an indignant huff and Gert’s querulous, “I swear, I don’t know how that woman has the nerve to show her face in this town.”
“I know,” Shirley agreed. “It makes my blood boil to have to wait on her. You ask me—”
The door swung shut, cutting off the venomous tirade. Kate paused to draw in a deep breath of cool mountain air, then zipped up her windbreaker and turned toward home.
She walked purposefully with her head high and her gaze focused straight ahead, pretending not to notice the stares that followed her or how people she had known most of her life stepped aside to avoid any sort of physical contact with her. A few doors down the street, Donny Bowman stepped from his family’s bakery and headed in her direction. He had given Kate her first kiss, had taken her to the senior prom and afterward had declared his undying love for her, but when he looked up and spotted her, his face hardened. Kate’s chin came up another notch, and she met his cold stare with unapologetic directness. It was Donny who finally broke eye contact and looked away.
The corners of Kate’s mouth curved ever so slightly. Good. Let him glare and grumble, she thought. He won’t see me cringe or hang my head and slink away like a whipped dog.
Thankfully, Gold Fever was a small place, only about eight blocks square. Main Avenue was a spur off Highway 550, about a half mile away, and the only paved street in town. The others were dirt and gravel.
In minutes Kate reached the north end of town where the paving ended. With a sigh of relief, she started up the sloping dirt road. The grocery cart bumped and rattled over rocks and potholes as she pulled it along behind her.
Kate hated going into town, and put off doing so until she had no choice. Even during the height of tourist season she kept to herself as much as possible, venturing down into town merely to buy supplies and pick up her mail at the post office.
The cart was heavy, and soon her arm began to ache. She could have made it easy on herself and driven the SUV into town, but she enjoyed walking and getting out in the fresh air. Winter was just around the corner, and once it arrived she wouldn’t be able to walk to town.
Climbing the gentle slope, she looked around at the soaring peaks and smiled. How she loved it here. As a six-year-old, the first time she and her family had driven over the last pass and started down the winding road into this high mountain valley, she had been enchanted. In twenty-three years that feeling had never left her.
A gust of wind sent a chill through Kate and tugged a blond curl loose from her French braid. She shivered and pushed the dancing tendril away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. During the past couple of weeks, storms had powdered the tops of the mountains with fresh snow. Even in summer, snow capped the jagged peaks, but now the white mantle was growing longer, sagging unevenly like a cheap petticoat, edging downward