Emily didn't fit in here and must have realized it. "She was married to some hotshot lawyer in Portland and part of the social whirl, I guess," Roz said. "He died about a year ago and left her well off."

Florie let out a "humph." "If that were true, she wouldn't have had to snag Liam six months later."

Charity did another eye roll, but Roz thought Florie had a good point. Was it possible Emily had exaggerated about her rich, famous lawyer husband? Or even outright lied? Liam wouldn't have checked up on Emily. He took everyone at his or her word. But Roz had no problem with doing some checking. And she could see that Charity was thinking the same thing.

"It's how she's dressed that's throwing me off," Florie mumbled. "She was wearing something...different." Her face lit up. "A uniform! A nurse's uniform. That's it! She worked for that young doctor who filled in for a while when Doc Purdy broke his leg. Morrow that was his name. James Morrow. A real looker he was, and married."

Charity was staring at her aunt. "I remember that woman. She was brunette and much chubbier."

Florie nodded enthusiastically. "You think that blond doesn't come out of a bottle? Please. Please. And she was heavier because I think she was pregnant with the young doctor's baby." And she was heavier because I think she was pregnant with the young doctor's baby."

"Are you sure you didn't see this on some soap opera?" Charity teased. "Auntie, you have Emily Sawyer mixed up with some other woman."

Florie was shaking her head. "I can almost remember her name."

"Don't look at me. Hope, Faith and I went into Eugene to that woman doctor down there," Charity said of her and her sisters.

"I remember Doc Purdy breaking his leg," Roz said. "But Dr. Morrow..."

"You should remember him," Florie said. "Didn't your mother see him professionally during the time right before-" She broke off realizing what she was about to say. Right before Anna Sawyer killed herself.

"Dr. Morrow," Roz said slowly.

"Roz, you must have seen her," Florie said, not letting it drop.

She shook her head. "The doctor came to the house alone or Mom went to his office." But why had her mother been going to the doctor? She remembered her dad trying to find out, but couldn't remember what he'd found out other than her mother hadn't been diagnosed with cancer or anything that would make her want to commit suicide.

Dr. Morrow hadn't stayed long after her mother's death, the memory coming back now. She could recall little about him except that he was nice. And he had made at least one house call, the day her mother died. She couldn't remember any scandal involving the man's nurse but then she didn't remember ever seeing her.

Roz looked up to see that Charity and Florie were looking at her with sympathy in their eyes.

Charity took a bite of her pie, then pushed the plate away. "Did I tell you about that guy we used to go to school with, Arnie-"

"Lynette. That was her name," Florie exclaimed. "I knew it would come to me. Lynette..."

"You see where I get it," Charity joked and tried again to change the subject. "I was raised on gossip. What other career path could I have taken but journalism?"

"Why can't I think of her last name?" Florie muttered to herself. "Charity, wasn't she the woman who took care of you when you sprained your ankle wrestling with that boy that time at the hospital?"

"It wasn't just some boy. It was Mitch," Charity said and grinned. "And Kate Clark was the emergency room nurse. Dr. Morrow was already gone by then and his nurse, as well."

"Kate's taking care of Dad," Roz said. "And a doctor named...Harris?"

"Mark Harris," Charity said nodding. "He took the job here about a month ago. It's so hard to get doctors to stay in Timber Falls. Too isolated and the money's not that great."

"Hargrove," Florie said and snapped her fingers. "Her name was Lynette Hargrove."

Charity shook her head. "Auntie, it's not the same woman, okay? Give it a rest."

Florie wasn't paying attention. She had reached into her purse and now took out a small velvet bag. From the bag she withdrew a set of worn tarot cards.

"Auntie, don't do this, okay?"

Florie didn't pay her niece any mind.

Betty came over to refill the coffee cups and Charity's diet cola. She stood for a moment and watched Florie adeptly deal out three cards, then close her eyes tightly before placing a card facedown on top of each of them.

One of the patrons called to Betty. It was obvious she hated to leave but had to.

Roz watched, mesmerized as Florie slowly turned over the first card and then pressed her hand to her mouth, tears swimming in her eyes. "Liam is going to regain consciousness," she whispered and smiled over at Roz.

Charity said nothing as Florie turned over the next card and frowned. Her gaze came up to meet Roz. "But he will only be in more danger." She turned over the third card and let out a gasp as her gaze flew up to Roz.

"What is it?" Roz cried.

Florie had gone deathly pale again. With shaking hands she hurriedly scooped up the cards. "It's nothing." She dropped the pack of cards back into the velvet bag and thrust them deep into her purse.

"See why I hate it when she does this?" Charity said to Roz. "You scare people, Auntie."

But Roz could see that Florie had scared herself, as well. Tears welled in the older woman's eyes and she was still visibly shaking.

"Florie, you have to tell me what you saw," Roz pleaded clutching at the woman's arm. "I know Dad is in danger. I need to know what you saw. Please."

Florie's voice broke as she whispered, "I saw an open dirt grave with...the bones bones still in it." still in it."

Roz felt all the air rush from her. "Bones?" "Bones?"

"Old bones." The woman shuddered and stumbled to her feet. "I have to go to the hospital and see Liam." Without another word, she hurried off, her brightly colored caftan blowing in the breeze behind her, leaving Roz to stare after her in shock and growing fear. bones." The woman shuddered and stumbled to her feet. "I have to go to the hospital and see Liam." Without another word, she hurried off, her brightly colored caftan blowing in the breeze behind her, leaving Roz to stare after her in shock and growing fear.

Charity gave Roz a ride back to the house since it was raining again, a light drizzle that made the once sunny day as dreary and dark as her mood. Roz avoided the main house, walking around to the guest house through the garden.

The chill she suddenly felt had nothing to do with the light rain. Someone was watching her. She stopped to look toward the main house but, in the dull light, couldn't see if anyone was looking out of the attic windows.

She felt spooked and afraid and couldn't wait to see Ford. She had never thought she'd admit it, but she was glad he was here. Glad they would be looking for the bones together.

Florie's revelations still had her reeling. Bones. And her conviction that Emily wasn't really Emily Lane but some woman named Lynette Hargrove, a former nurse in Timber Falls. A nurse who'd worked for the doctor who'd been taking care of Roz's mother.

Florie had to be wrong. Liam would have mentioned if Emily had ever been a nurse. Especially in Timber Falls. Unless he hadn't known. And what about the name change? Lynette Hargrove. It couldn't be the same woman.

Roz was disappointed to find Ford hadn't returned. She checked her watch. He was late. Because he was a scientist, she'd somehow expected him to be more exacting than this. Maybe he'd been held up.

A sliver of worry began to fester inside her at the thought that something might have happened to him. If he'd gone off asking questions about Liam...

She stepped up onto the porch out of the rain and tried the door. He'd left it unlocked for her. That was considerate.

As she stepped in, she heard something and realized she wasn't alone. The rustle of papers came from the bedroom. She didn't close the door, instead stepped into the guest house quietly to peer around the corner into the bedroom.

He had his back to her and appeared to be going through something on a desk by the bed.

"Drew?"

He swung around, obviously surprised to see her. "I didn't hear you come in."

No, she'd gathered that by his surprise. She looked to the papers in his hands. "What are you doing?"

"I had to see what Ford Lancaster was up to." He put the papers back on the desk and moved toward her. "I'm worried about you. I can see that you're starting to trust him."

Right now she trusted Ford more than she did Drew, she realized. She took a step back, glad she'd left the door open.

Drew stopped advancing toward her, looking hurt. "I'm sorry if I scared you. Roz, I was upstairs earlier looking for you and I noticed the door open to your mom's old sewing room and the broken record on the floor."

She held her breath.

"You're going to think I'm crazy but a few weeks ago I heard that record playing," he said. "I went up and turned off the phonograph but it came right back on. Blew me away. I unplugged it but the next night I heard it again. Totally freaked me out."

She found herself nodding. "It did that last night."

He laughed. "I was afraid of that." The smile died on his lips. "I am am worried about you." worried about you."

"I appreciate that," she said, feeling a little more at ease with him. "Drew, phonographs don't plug themselves back in."

"I know. I caught my mother in that room several nights later."

His admission surprised her.

"I know she's jealous of you," he said. "She resents the fact that Liam insisted on returning to Timber Falls because of you."

"Because of me? me? But I live in Seattle." But I live in Seattle."

Drew nodded. "Your dad has this idea that one day you will come back here with your own family and settle in Timber Falls in the house where you were raised."

Roz couldn't believe her ears. Her father had never said anything to her about it.

"He keeps talking about your kids racing through the old house, putting laughter back in it and how Anna would have wanted that desperately. You can imagine how that makes my mother feel."

"So you think she rigged the phonograph to...scare me away?"

"I think it's possible. If you don't come back to Timber Falls, then your father will eventually move her somewhere so they can have a fresh start. She really hates it here."

Roz could see how hard the admission was for him. He was protective of his mother. But he was obviously worried about Roz and maybe what lengths his mother might go to.

"Do you know who left me the chocolates by my bed last night?"

Drew seemed surprised by the question. "I did. Didn't you get my note? They were all right, weren't they?"

She nodded, even though she wasn't sure about that. "You didn't happen to hear me walking in my sleep last night, did you?"

His eyes widened. "No. I hope you avoided the stairs."

"I didn't walk far," she said and looked toward the desk where she'd found Drew going through a stack of papers.

"You're wrong to trust Ford," Drew said, following her gaze. "Roz, look what he did to your father. I wish my mother had never told him he could stay in the guest house. I'll tell her to kick him out."

"No," Roz said.

He looked at her with obvious concern. "You don't really think he's in town to help your dad, do you? Men like him don't change."

Her greatest fear. It was obvious from Drew's expression that he could see that he'd struck a chord.

"He wants something, Roz, and you have to ask yourself what," Drew continued. "He acts as if he's protecting Liam, but what if it's just the opposite? What if he doesn't want any of us in the hospital room when Liam wakes up because Ford Lancaster has something to hide?"

Her cell phone rang, startling her.

"Just think about it," Drew said and headed for the door. "In the meantime, be careful."

She wondered if he meant because of Ford. Or his mother. Roz was still chilled by what Florie had seen in the cards. Now she wondered if Emily really might not be the person she was pretending to be.

The phone rang again. Roz checked the number. Charity.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of my aunt but I did some quick checking on Emily," Charity said without preamble.

Roz had known she would. She held her breath.

"There was a hotshot attorney named Andrew Lane who died about a year ago. According to his obit, he is survived by his wife, Emily, and two grown children, Andrew Junior and Suzanne of Portland, Oregon."

Roz let out the breath she'd been holding.

"As for Lynette Hargrove, she died in a car wreck about a year after she left Timber Falls," Charity said. "You see why I warned you not to listen to Aunt Florie? So just ignore that thing about bones, okay?"

She wished she could. "Thank you so much."

"No problem. Better to set your mind at ease."

Roz couldn't agree more as she snapped off her phone. She just wished Charity could ease her mind about Ford. Why wasn't he back yet? She was starting to worry about him.

It was quiet inside the guest house. Roz checked the bathroom, remembering the urine sample she'd left on the back of the bathroom sink. It was gone. He must have taken it to the lab.

Was that the only errand he had to run this morning? She hoped she'd just been sleepwalking, and that there was no plot against her or her father.

She turned and looked toward the desk where she'd caught Drew. Ford's laptop sat on top of what appeared to be a stack of papers that had been hurriedly shoved under it. Drew's doing? Or Ford's?

Stepping toward it, she saw the corner of a magazine article sticking out from the pile of papers. She recognized the photograph. It was one her father had taken of a large hairy creature he and John Wells had seen deep in the Cascades and believed was Bigfoot.

She lifted the laptop and pulled the jumble of papers from beneath it. On the top was the piece Ford Lancaster had written about her father for a scientific journal along with various newspaper articles quoting Lancaster and his experts speculating on how Liam Sawyer had manufactured the fraudulent Bigfoot photographs.

She stared down at the photograph of her father for a moment, then ruffled through the other papers. They were all articles about Bigfoot. One headline caught her attention: One Million Dollar Reward Offered For Bigfoot Evidence. The article said the man would pay for definitive proof that a Bigfoot existed. At the bottom, how to contact the man to collect had been circled.

Heart in her throat, she sifted through the papers and found what appeared to be the beginning of a new article typed double-s.p.a.ce on plain white paper. It was ent.i.tled Bigfoot Hysteria In Timber Falls: Home Of The Infamous Photographer by Ford Lancaster.