Adam Kane had tried to boss her around since they were children. Back then she had let him get away with it, for the most part. This situation was different, although she had yet to fully understand what had changed their relationship and when. All Sara knew was that being around him had begun to make her anxious lately, as if she were teetering on the edge of a steep cliff and in danger of toppling over. Of course, that was ridiculous. Yet the more she thought about Adam, the more contrite she grew.
The sheriff hadn’t commented much during the short drive and as he pulled up to the garage where her car was having the damaged tires replaced, Sara broke the silence. “Thanks for the lift. I guess I owe Adam an apology, huh?”
“Maybe.” The older man smiled. “I don’t know what made you so all-fired mad but the poor guy’s motives were probably good.”
“I know. And I snapped his head off.” She gathered the open end of the pillowcase in one hand and started to get out of the car. “When you see Adam, will you tell him I’m sorry?”
Steve’s smile widened into a grin and he tilted his cap back by its brim. “Won’t need to.” Swiveling slightly, he gestured over his shoulder at the truck parking behind them. “You can tell him yourself.”
Sara almost lost her grip on the pillowcase. She was delighted to see Adam, yet upset that he had trailed her to town. What in the world was wrong with her? If she hadn’t known better she’d have suspected that she had taken the blow to the head instead of Kurt. Obviously, something had happened to damage her usually predictable brain because it certainly wasn’t lining up known facts the sensible way it had in the past.
As soon as she closed the passenger door of the patrol car the sheriff pulled away, leaving her standing there alone. She watched Adam climb out of his truck, put on his Stetson and stride toward her. His unreadable expression left her with no clues as to his mood. That didn’t matter. She knew what she must do and say.
Raising her free hand, palm out like a traffic cop, she said, “Stop. Before you say a word, let me tell you how sorry I am. I should never have snapped at you the way I did. I know you meant well.”
Shock replaced the hard set of his jaw and glint in his eyes. His pace slowed and he eased up to her. “I want nothing but the best for you, Sara.”
“I know. Still friends?” She held out her hand, wondering why it was taking him so long to shake it.
Adam stuffed his hands into his pockets instead. “Sure. Friends.”
“Good. I’m going to bail out my car, then go talk to Cynthia about my new place. Want to come with me?”
“Nope. You’ll do fine by yourself. I’ll just pop over to the fire station and see if anybody has located the origin of the fire at Vicki’s.”
She was taken aback. “Okay. See you.”
“Yeah. Take care.”
Watching him saunter away as if he didn’t have a care in the world made Sara feel surprisingly bereft. If he had followed her to town to protect her, why was he leaving? Nobody had been arrested for shooting at her or trashing her apartment, so surely she still needed protection.
But I started this. I’m the one who left him, first, she reminded herself. All Adam is doing is complying with my stated wishes that he let me make my own choices and handle my life without his interference.
All of a sudden she realized the magnitude of her error. Be careful what you wish for, Vicki used to say. You might get it.
* * *
Turning his back on Sara had been difficult for Adam. If he had not known that she was being watched almost constantly by the local police and that the owner of the garage was a good, honest man, he didn’t think he’d have been able to do it.
He was reaching for the door handle of his truck when he heard her shout, “Adam!” Her voice was high-pitched, very loud and sounded frantic. Wheeling, he ran back to the repair business and skidded to a stop by her side at the customer counter. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
The scrap of paper in her hand was quivering so much it was hard to read when she held it out for him, so he grasped her wrist. It took only moments to understand why she had called to him. “Where did you get this?”
Sara gestured over the counter, trembling. “Brad found it on my car this morning.”
Adam’s eyebrow arched. Brad Babcock was a distant relation to Vicki’s grieving family. There were so many Babcocks in Paradise it hadn’t occurred to him to take special notice. Besides, Brad had such a great reputation for honesty and skill that nearly everyone took their vehicle repairs to him. Using him to fix up Sara’s car was perfectly normal.
“Where was this, exactly?” Adam asked the balding garage owner.
“Tucked under the wipers. I’d a figured it was a prank if I didn’t know what happened before.”
“Yeah.” Adam looked back at the note Sara was still grasping and realized his support of her wrist had become more of a caress. That was not enough to convince him to release her. Instead, he gently tugged on a corner of the note with his free hand until she let go.
“Who else handled this, Brad?”
“Um, pretty much all of us. Junior found it first and showed it to me. Then we passed it around.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Adam said. “You got a new plastic bag I can put it into?”
“Sure. Here you go. Sorry I didn’t think of doing that right off.”
Sara slipped a hand inside the crook of Adam’s elbow and hung on as if she needed support to stay on her feet. He glanced at her. Her face was pale, her beautiful eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. So much for her declaration that she didn’t need anybody’s support.
And no wonder. The note was short and to the point:
The next time I’ll use the knife on you.
* * *
“We need to give that to the police,” Sara finally said after staring at the note through the clear plastic until she couldn’t bear to continue.
To her relief, Adam agreed. “Right. Come on. I’ll walk you over there and then we’ll come back for your car.”
This was one time she had to agree with his sensible plan. The combined police and fire department offices were less than half a block away and the sheriff’s office was just around the next corner. Walking would be as fast as driving.
Sara pointed to the note as they started out. “Do you think he’ll be able to find any forensic clues?”
“That’s why I was asking how many people had touched it. I was hoping for clear fingerprints but that’s not likely after it was passed around.”
“I suppose not.” She couldn’t help feeling dejected. “It would be nice to catch a break once in a while.”
Adam huffed and shook his head. “You think you haven’t? What about the times the shooter missed? How about not being in your apartment when it was ransacked? And don’t forget Texas. If Vicki really was murdered you could have been, too, if you’d gone with her that night. Your friend Rodrigo didn’t come all the way up here just for fun. Be grateful.”
Eyes widening, Sara stared at him. “Whoa. Where did all that come from?”
“Chalk it up to experience,” Adam said. “Nothing makes a person appreciate survival like walking through fire, so to speak.”
Continuing the analogy, Sara said, “I already feel pretty singed around the edges. It’s as if every move I make results in another threat or more actual violence.” Pausing to take a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she added, “That’s why I’m moving back to town and away from your family. I don’t want anybody else to get hurt because of me.”
“Kurt still insists he fell and hit his head.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t actually believe that fairy tale, do you?”
“I’d like to, but I suspect he’s just trying to make you feel better.”
Detecting a slump to his broad shoulders she realized he agreed wit
h her analysis, so she put it into words. “I don’t care what he says. Somebody was sneaking around your ranch and conked him. We both know that. The question is, who?”
“And why.”
“No, Adam. We know why. It happened because of me, because you took me in and tried to protect me. Like I said, that’s not going to happen again.”
He paused and waved the bag containing the crumpled paper in front of her face. “What about this?”
“What about it?”
“Whoever slashed your tires is threatening to do the same to you. Doesn’t that make you even a little nervous?”
Fed up, she fisted her hands on her hips and gritted her teeth before replying. “Of course, it does. It also points out that this person not only knows plenty about me, he’s familiar enough with Paradise to move around without being noticed. What does that say to you?”
Keeping her gaze fixed on Adam she waited, analyzing his expression as he struggled with his own conclusion. “You’re implying that your attackers have to be locals?”
“It’s as likely as having a gang from down south follow me all the way up here.”
“I don’t buy it. Think, Sara. If the men Miss Bessie saw were tracking Vicki and looking for something in her apartment, the logical thing for them to do is burn it to destroy whatever evidence may have been hidden there.”
“Not if they found it.”
“Only they couldn’t have, could they? Vicki never came home. And she never returned from her trip to the mission office that night during the flood, either.”
“You’re right,” Sara said. “But if they were part of the reason she was killed, then they should also know the evidence against them was washed away when the office floated off.”
“Not necessarily. What if they think she passed clues to you?”
“And I brought them home with me?” That possibility chilled her to the bone. Could they think she was holding evidence of their crimes? She supposed it was possible. Everybody knew she and Vicki were not only dear friends but also cousins. Sharing important information like that would have made sense.
And, Sara reminded herself, Vicki had told her about her suspicions of theft of goods from the organization. Signatures on receipts proved that far more supplies had been delivered than were properly dispensed or left in inventory. Somebody was making money on the side by selling necessities that were meant for flood victims. And if it was happening in Texas, no telling how many other previous sites had been involved. The question was, had Vicki revealed enough to end the stealing?
Clearing her head of the emotional aspects was critical. The best way she could think of to do that was to keep moving and talk it out with Adam. “I don’t remember much,” Sara began as she kept pace with his long strides. “I do know it wasn’t the theft of monetary donations Vicki was tracing. It was supplies. She’d compared what was left in stock with what had come in and then disbursed to victims, and had come up tons short.”
“That happened a lot overseas. It was almost impossible to trace shrinkage.”
“I know. That’s the rub. If Rigo hadn’t shown up in Paradise I wouldn’t have suspected his connection.”
“Assuming that’s why he went to Vicki’s.”
Frustrated, Sara shook her head. “We have to start assuming some things or we’ll get nowhere. Rigo and at least one other man showed up in town and Vicki’s place burned down. One or both of them must have lit the fire. There are few other possibilities.”
Adam huffed. “I can’t help remembering how you lectured me about not jumping to conclusions about strangers.”
“That was before people started shooting at me,” Sara said. Stating the obvious caused her to edge closer to Adam and scan the quiet town square. “Do you think it’s even safe to be out here, exposed like this?”
He pointed to the courthouse in the center of the square on their right. “Court’s not in session and it’s early for most of these businesses. If we keep our eyes open I doubt anybody can sneak up on us the way they did in the dark.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s comforting.”
“It’s sensible. I wasn’t trying to make you feel too safe. We’ll need to stay vigilant.” He smiled down at her. “If you think of Paradise as a battle zone until we find out what’s going on you should be fine.”
“That’s the problem,” Sara said sadly. “I don’t want to view my hometown as a bad place. It’s always been a comfort. I could hardly wait to get home from college and go to work at the county hospital.”
“I feel the same,” Adam told her. “Except I have the experience of seeing the most peaceful third-world villages turned into infernos of death and destruction. No place in the world is totally safe, Sara. No place.”
“That is so sad.”
He nodded soberly. “Very.”
* * *
The single dispatcher for fire and police looked up as Adam held the door for Sara, then followed her through into the austere office. Bare fluorescent tubes hung from a dull ceiling, and the walls were painted the same depressing green shade that always reminded him of hospitals. The only real difference was the absence of an antiseptic odor.
Nevertheless, Adam smiled in greeting. “Morning, Ceci. Is the chief in?”
“Morning.” She removed her headset, fluffed her short graying hair and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Ellis is in his office.”
“No, not my chief,” Adam explained. “We want to talk to the police chief.”
“Floyd Magill? What for? You thinkin’ of changin’ careers?”
“Not today.” Adam continued to smile at her rather than explain and invite more rumors involving Sara’s troubles. “Is he around?”
“Nope.” She glanced at a large clock mounted above an eclectic collection of framed certificates, photos and awards. “It’s breakfast time. You’ll find him over at the Eden Café. Back booth.”
“Thanks,” Adam said lightly as he tucked the bagged note into his pocket. He could tell Sara was as nervous as a deer caught in the beam of approaching headlights. She was grasping his arm so tightly he expected his hand to go numb any second. “We’ll catch him over there.”
This time, Sara straight-armed the door and thrust it far enough open that they could pass through together before it swung shut. Adam didn’t protest. He fully understood her desire to speak to the police chief ASAP. Personally, he wanted to unload the note before something happened to it.
They crossed at the street corner. “What if he’s finished eating and left?” Sara asked.
“If Floyd isn’t there we’ll connect with the sheriff again. Either way, the evidence will end up in good hands.”
“Do you think anybody will take it seriously?”
Adam refrained from speculation, but he wasn’t encouraged about the viability of the note or the methods available in such a small town. If Magill chose to send the clue on to Springfield or, even better, Jefferson City, there might be a chance of tracing the writer. Otherwise, he wasn’t going to hold his breath.
And as far as Sara was concerned he still didn’t know what to do, how much to insist upon having his way in her daily life. She was one stubborn woman. She had courage beyond many men he’d met, yet her bravado was mixed with an unreasonable sense of being right. Nobody was always right. That’s where sensible friends came in. Friends like him.
She paused at the glass door of the storefront café on the east side of the square. The Eden Café wasn’t fancy but the food was great, meaning the place was packed at that time of the morning.
Adam reached to open the door for her. She touched his arm. “Wait. I really don’t want to face all those people. Half of them probably think I’m the reason Vicki’s gone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He wasn’t about to openly agree with her regarding town gossip. It could be devastating once
the rumor mill got hold of a notion, and the worse the news the more swiftly it traveled.
He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “I’m not leaving you out here alone, Sara. You can walk with me, or I’ll sling you over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry and we’ll go in that way.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” She tried to lean away but he held her fast.
“Look, I left you for just a few minutes this morning and you had to face that threatening note alone. That’s not happening again.” He gave her a lopsided smile and arched an eyebrow. “Your choice. It might give them something else to talk about if I picked you up and carried you in.”
To Adam’s relief she giggled. “I’ll walk. Let’s go.”
TEN
Police Chief Magill, clad in a navy blue shirt, pants and a lightweight jacket with the Paradise Police patch on the sleeve, was seated in a rear booth just as the dispatcher had predicted. Keeping focus on their goal so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with others, Sara zigzagged between tables, went straight to him and slid into the unoccupied bench.
Adam followed, choosing her side of the table and blocking any chance of her exiting without first shoving him out of the way. She started to object to the crowding, then thought better of it. Truth to tell, being sandwiched between Adam’s broad shoulders and a solid wall was pretty comforting.
The police chief stopped eating and blotted his bushy gray mustache with a paper napkin. “I get the idea this isn’t a casual meeting. What’s up, folks?”
A lump was clogging Sara’s throat. “I—I got a threatening note.”
“Show me.” He pushed aside his plate.
“Adam has it. We put it in plastic as soon as I got it but lots of people handled it before that.”
Magill looked disgusted. “You’d think, with all the CSI stuff on TV, folks would realize they should keep their hands off evidence.” He reached out. “Let me see.”
Adam obliged. “Brad, over at the garage, found it stuck under her windshield wiper when he opened this morning. He said they’d passed it around the shop and everybody working there had touched it. He gave us this plastic bag to put it in but it was probably too late by then.”
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