The Rebel's Return

by Gina Wilkins

  Lucas wasn’t sure he would let the guy off with only a few missing teeth. He had to rein in his anger to continue speaking in the objective tone he’d used so far. “I’ve noticed Emily’s been wearing a gold bracelet every day since I arrived.”

  “I gave her that one after the robbery. The one stolen from her was an antique. Very heavy links, and an ornate oval clasp. It belonged to her mother.”

  Wade had just described the bracelet Lucas had buried in Emily’s time capsule—confirming Lucas’s suspicions that she had discovered it there.

  “Now that I’ve told you everything I know about the break-in, why don’t you tell me why you’re so interested?”

  Lucas shrugged. “My sister was attacked. Isn’t it natural for me to be interested in making sure someone pays for it?”

  “You have reason to believe Emily was specifically targeted?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  Wade’s gaze narrowed on Lucas’s face. “There’s something you aren’t telling me. How did you find out about the break-in, if Emily didn’t tell you? You told your aunt and uncle last night that you haven’t seen anyone else in town while you’ve been here.”

  Lucas shrugged.

  “You knew your father had died. You didn’t seem particularly surprised that Emily still lived in the same house. Have you been keeping tabs on her since you left?”

  “I’ve reassured myself that she was all right. If she’d ever really needed me, I’d have been here.”

  “But you never came back, even for a visit. Not even for your father’s funeral. What was it about the break-in that brought you back?”

  Lucas stalled by turning the questioning back to Wade. “When did you decide I wasn’t here to claim my share of my father’s estate?”

  “When I found out that you could buy up half of Honoria, if you wanted,” Wade answered evenly.

  Lucas scowled. “You’ve investigated me?”

  “Yes. You’ve done all right for yourself, haven’t you?”

  His opinion of Wade Davenport slipped a notch. “Typical cop meddling.”

  “Typical fiancé meddling,” Wade corrected him. “You aren’t the only one needing reassurance that Emily’s all right.”

  Lucas wasn’t sure Emily would appreciate either of them being so overprotective of her, but he supposed he could forgive Wade, this time, for meddling, since he’d had Emily’s welfare at heart. But how much could he trust the guy?

  There was only one way to find out.

  “I need a favor from you, Wade.”

  The immediate wariness that crossed Wade’s face was not particularly flattering. “What kind of favor?”

  “I want to see all the old files on Roger Jennings’s death fifteen years ago. Everything Chief Packer found out.”

  For several long moments, there was no sound in the office except the ticking of the old wooden clock on the wall behind Wade’s head. Wade sat without moving, studying Lucas intently over his steepled fingers.

  When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost as if he was musing aloud. “What possible connection could Roger Jennings’s death have to the break-in at Emily’s house?”

  At least his sister wasn’t marrying a stupid man, Lucas thought. “Probably none. But I would still like to see the files.”

  “According to what I’ve read, Chief Packer was never fully convinced that you had nothing to do with Jennings’s death. Had it not been for your alibi, you might well have found yourself facing charges.”

  Lucas nodded, knowing his scowl had deepened at the mention of his “alibi.”

  “The girl who claimed you spent the entire night with her had some inconsistencies in her story that bothered Packer. But he could never shake her. Even after you left town, apparently dumping her along with your family, she never recanted.”

  “I never asked her to defend me,” Lucas muttered. In fact, Lizzie’s well-intentioned “help” had caused almost as many problems as it had solved, but he wasn’t about to go into that now.

  “You’re aware, of course, that there is no statute of limitations for murder.”

  “I did not kill Roger Jennings.”

  Lucas didn’t know why he thought Wade would believe him when people who had known him a lot longer than the police chief had thought him guilty. Even Rachel apparently had her doubts, judging from her behavior.

  Wade said only, “That’s what your sister keeps telling me. She never doubted your innocence. I’ve pointed out, of course, that she was just a little girl when you left, and she might not have known you as well as she thought, but she almost took my head off. You were her hero fifteen years ago—and, like it or not, I’m not so sure that’s changed much.”

  Lucas felt a quick rush of satisfaction, even though he knew he was no hero. But it was kind of nice to think there was one person in the world who could see him that way.

  “Well, McBride? Are you going to tell me what you’re hoping to find in those files?”

  “Are you going to let me see them?” Lucas countered.

  A whirring sound erupted from the clock on the wall, followed by the appearance of a whimsical wooden bird. Lucas winced when the thing let out several teeth-jarring “cuckoos.”

  “I’d have to kill that thing,” he said without thinking.

  “Some folks might think that was a revealing statement coming from you,” Wade drawled. And then he pushed his chair away from his desk and stood. “I’m supposed to meet Emily for lunch at Cora’s. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. Why don’t you join us?”

  Lucas rose from his chair. “You haven’t answered me about the files.”

  “I’ll think about it. How about lunch?”

  Lucas pushed his hands into the pockets of the leather jacket he hadn’t removed. “I doubt if Emily would enjoy her lunch with me there. Everyone in the place would be staring and whispering.”

  “If you think Emily would care about that, you haven’t gotten to know her as well as I’d thought during the past couple of days. Are you going to hide from the gossips the whole time you’re here?”

  Lucas lifted his head sharply. “I don’t hide from anyone.”

  Wade chuckled. “Damn. For a minute there, you looked just like Emily when she’s in a temper. Come have lunch with us, Lucas. It’ll make your sister happy. You and I will look through the old files later.”

  That sounded like a promise. Or maybe a bribe. For some reason, Wade seemed to want Lucas to make a public appearance. To find out how the townspeople reacted to him, maybe? Or how he reacted to them?

  Whatever Wade’s purpose, Lucas didn’t see how he could decline. He motioned wryly toward the door. “After you.”

  Cora’s Café was only a few blocks from the police station. Since it was a nice day, Wade and Lucas decided to walk. Lucas pulled his leather jacket tighter around his neck and stuck his hands in the pockets, making no effort to meet the eyes of anyone they passed. If any curious looks came their way, he didn’t see them. He wasn’t looking for familiar faces, and he would have been glad if no one recognized him.

  The café was small, and two-thirds of the tables were occupied. Emily was waiting just inside the door. Her face lit up when she saw them.

  “Lucas! What a nice surprise,” she said, rushing to his side to kiss his cheek. And then she turned to offer a kiss to Wade. “I’m very glad to see you both.”

  Wade grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Good thing you added that. I was beginning to feel slighted.”

  “With your ego? No way,” his loving fiancée teased.

  Lucas noticed that several of the diners had begun to look their way, smiling when they saw Emily and Wade, frowning in curiosity when they noticed Lucas. He could spot the people who recognized him—they were the ones whose jaws dropped or whose forks clattered suddenly on tabletops.

  A broad-beamed, frizzy-permed waitress ambled toward them, carrying three plastic menus tucked under one arm. “Y’all ready fo
r your table?” she asked, smiling at Emily.

  Lucas recognized the woman. Mindy Hooper. She’d been a couple of years ahead of him in school. She hadn’t changed much, though she seemed to have added thirty pounds or so, mostly below the waist.

  Mindy greeted Wade with a “H’lo, Chief,” then glanced automatically at Lucas. She nodded, then did a classic double take. “Lucas McBride?”

  “Hello, Mindy. It’s been a long time.”

  “No kidding. Where you been keepin’ yourself, boy?”

  “California, mostly.”

  “Well, it’s good to see you,” Mindy said firmly.

  “Never took much stock in all that gossip, myself. I just remember that you were always pretty nice to me when some people made fun of me ’cause I didn’t have much money or anything.”

  Lucas didn’t quite know what to say. Mindy’s words touched him, and he’d never been good at expressing that sort of emotion. “Er, uh, thanks,” he muttered lamely.

  Mindy nodded, turned and headed for a table. “Y’all follow me,” she said over her shoulder.

  Emily squeezed Lucas’s hand as they walked toward their table. She must have sensed that he was feeling awkward. Lucas kept his gaze on her, ignoring the other people in the café. He’d always been pretty good at ignoring the people of this town.

  He was beginning to think this lunch hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all, when the situation took a sharp turn.

  He looked up from his menu to find Rachel Jennings standing only a few feet away, staring at him with open consternation mirrored on her face.

  RACHEL HAD NOT been particularly looking forward to having lunch with her uncle, but she’d felt obligated to accept when he called and extended the invitation. With the exception of her maternal grandmother, her father’s younger brother was her only other relative in Honoria.

  Rachel had never been close to Sam—she wasn’t even particularly fond of him—but she saw no reason to avoid him entirely while she was in town. Once her grandmother moved to Carrollton, Rachel had no reason ever to return here. It might be years, if ever, before she would have occasion to see her uncle again.

  They had agreed to meet at Cora’s Café, a long time landmark of old, downtown Honoria. The café was lavishly decorated for the holidays with colored lights, tinsel, wreaths and ornament-covered trees. As she entered, Rachel wished she could feel some measure of holiday spirit herself.

  Sam hadn’t yet arrived when Rachel walked in. A slow-moving, kind-eyed waitress offered to show Rachel to a table for two, where she could wait comfortably. Rachel agreed.

  She had gotten halfway across the busy room when she spotted Lucas sitting at a table with another man and a pretty blond woman. Rachel nearly stumbled.

  Lucas looked up just as she saw him. Their gazes met and held. Rachel doubted her own expression was as unrevealing as Lucas’s, but she made a massive effort to mask her emotions. She would have to pass right by his table to reach her own.

  The woman with Lucas seemed to sense the sudden tension. She turned her head, following the direction of his gaze. Her blue eyes focused on Rachel’s face, blankly at first, and then widened in apparent recognition.

  Could this be Emily McBride? The shy, quiet little girl Rachel had seen occasionally from a distance while she and Lucas had been secretly involved? Emily had grown into a beautiful woman.

  The waitress looked curiously over her shoulder, obviously wondering why Rachel had stopped. “This way, ma’am.”

  Rachel drew a deep breath, and started forward again. She gestured to the waitress to indicate that she would seat herself in a moment. Something made her stop first at Lucas’s table. Maybe she just needed to prove to him—and to herself—that she could see him and speak to him without falling apart. “Hello, Lucas.”

  Both men started to rise, but Rachel motioned for them to remain seated.

  Lucas returned her greeting blandly, as if she were someone he hardly remembered. “Hello, Rachel. You remember my sister, Emily?”

  Rachel nodded politely toward Emily. “We never formally met, but I remember. How are you, Emily?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. This is my fiancé, Wade Davenport. Wade, this is Rachel Jennings. She’s Jenny Holder’s granddaughter.”

  Wade nodded. “I’ve met Mrs. Holder on several occasions.”

  “You’re the chief of police, I’ve heard.” Rachel extended her hand to the sleepy-eyed, roughly handsome man. “It’s nice to meet you, Chief.”

  “Same here, Ms. Jennings. How is your grandmother? I understand she’s been ill.”

  “Yes. Her health is getting too poor to allow her to live on her own much longer. I’m here to help her prepare to move to a retirement home in Carrollton.”

  “She’ll be missed here. I know she has many friends in the community.”

  “She’s lived here a long time.”

  There was a short, slightly awkward pause, and then Emily spoke up. “Will you join us for lunch, Rachel?”

  “Thank you, but I’m meeting my uncle for lunch.”

  Emily’s smile faded. Lucas’s eyes darkened. Even Wade Davenport looked suddenly grim. It was obvious to Rachel that Sam Jennings wasn’t exactly popular with this group.

  Feeling the need to say something else, Rachel offered tentatively, “I’ve heard that you and Chief Davenport are getting married soon, Emily. Congratulations to you both.”

  “Thank you.” Emily seemed pleased by the polite overture. “We’ll be married New Year’s Eve.”

  Rachel glanced at Lucas. “Did you come home for your sister’s wedding?”

  There was another short, taut silence before Lucas shook his head. “I’m only here through Christmas. Emily’s wedding will proceed nicely without the black sheep of the family there to cause a scandal.”

  Emily frowned, obviously displeased with Lucas’s decision.

  Rachel wondered why Lucas wouldn’t stay for the wedding. If there was one thing she knew about him, it was that he cherished his little sister. He had as a young man, and she sensed that he still did.

  He’d made it sound as though he was staying away to spare Emily the embarrassment of having him there. Was his motive for missing his sister’s wedding really so noble?

  “What the hell...?”

  The outraged bellow practically echoed through the small café, causing several startled diners to jump and look quickly around.

  Rachel turned. Her uncle stood close by, his eyes glittering, his usually florid face even redder than usual.

  “Get away from that table, Rachel,” he snarled, staring at Lucas. “Are you too young to remember the man who caused your brother’s death?”

  Emily inhaled sharply. “Have you forgotten what I told you about slandering my brother? Unless you want to be slapped with a lawsuit, I’d advise you to be quiet.”

  Both Wade and Lucas looked at Emily with such affectionate approval that Rachel was almost envious for a moment.

  Ignoring Emily’s threat, Jennings pointedly turned his back on the table. “Let’s get out of here, Rachel. We’ll eat someplace where the air isn’t as polluted.”

  Rachel winced. Her uncle was embarrassing her with his boorish behavior.

  “There’s a table all the way across the room, Sam,” she pointed out quietly. “We can take that one. There’s no need to carry on this way.”

  “I’m not staying. Being in the same room with a murderer, and watching our so-called police chief fawning over him, takes away my appetite.”

  “That does it.” Emily started to rise.

  Wade restrained his fiancée with a hand on her arm. “Maybe you’d better leave, Jennings. You’re getting real close to disturbing the peace in here.”

  “Yeah, threaten me and let McBride sit there smirking,” Jennings sneered. “We got ourselves one hell of a police chief here, neighbors.”

  He turned disdainfully on one heel. “Come along, Rachel,” he said as though she were a child.

  S
he lifted her chin, finding his tone offensive. She had no intention of meekly following her uncle’s orders. “You go on,” she said coolly. “I’ve decided there are other things I need to do this afternoon.”

  Sam muttered something ugly beneath his breath and stalked toward the exit. Many of the diners were watching Rachel openly, waiting to see what she would do. Lucas’s dark blue eyes, trained on her face, were completely unreadable to her.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said to all three of them. “My uncle was out of line. He shouldn’t have behaved that way. I hope we haven’t ruined your lunch.”

  “You’re still welcome to join us, Rachel,” Emily said, after tossing a scornful look at Sam’s departing back.

  “Thank you, but I’ve decided I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go check on my grandmother.”

  She risked another quick glance at Lucas. He met her eyes steadily, still giving no outward clue to his feelings—but somehow she sensed he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared. Her uncle’s words must have infuriated Lucas, and probably embarrassed him. But no one would know by looking at him. Lucas had made masking his feelings an art form.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, looking only at him this time. And then she turned and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster.

  5

  “ALL IN ALL,” Wade said later that afternoon, “there just wasn’t enough evidence to convict you.”

  Lucas tossed a thick file folder onto Wade’s desk. “That’s because I didn’t kill Roger Jennings. As far as I know, Roger fell from those bluffs without any help from anyone.”

  Wade settled back into his chair and assumed what seemed to be a characteristic pose for him—elbows on the arms of his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. “He was on McBride land. You and he had a public history of animosity. Several people around town heard you threaten each other.”

  “Roger and I made no secret of our mutual dislike. He was a jerk—and he believed all the garbage his family ever told him about the McBrides.”

  “He must have really hated it that you were in love with his sister.”

  For several long, tense moments, there was no sound in Wade’s office except the ticking of the old cuckoo clock on the wall. Lucas stared at Wade’s unrevealing expression. Finally he said, “You didn’t read that in Packer’s file.”