In a Killer’s Sights

by Sandra Robbins

  Dean studied his burning barn for a few moments before he spoke again. “I used to know some guys who were firefighters. They were always talking about the different methods they had of determining if a fire was started on purpose. I know the text I got points to it being arson, but do you have any other evidence?”

  “Just observation,” Keith said. “From what we saw when we arrived, it looked like the flames were the same at multiple locations in the barn. That could mean it was set in different places. Also, the fires appeared to be burning down instead of up. If an accelerant was used around the stalls, it would have soaked into the wood and would have burned down toward the ground. We’ll know more about where it all started when we can follow the char pattern.”

  Dean nodded. “You think you’ll be able to find it under all the ash that’ll be left?”

  “Oh, yeah. We often find clues when we clear away the ash. A fire leaves definite footprints. We’ll follow them until we have the origins and the cause.”

  Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes and sighed. “Just let me know what you find out. I’ll get in touch with my insurance company in the morning. I’m sure their investigators will want to be in on this, too.”

  “Tell them to get in touch with me,” Keith said. “Now I need to check on my guys. I’ll talk to you later.”

  As the chief walked away, Ben turned to Dean. “Are you okay, buddy? I know this has been a horrible blow.”

  Dean sighed. “Yeah, especially since this is peak tourist season.” He glanced at the guests who’d gathered to watch the fire. “I’m not sure we even have enough equipment left to outfit a trail ride. I guess I’ll be sending all the guests home in the morning and contacting the ones with reservations to tell them what happened. Insurance should cover the barn and equipment, but there are my employees to think about. They have to be paid even though I won’t have any money coming in. On top of that, I’ve never had to shoulder the full load of running the ranch completely on my own before.”

  His throat closed and he swallowed. “I sure do wish Granddad was here. Even when he was too sick to help with the day-to-day tasks, he was always around to encourage me and give me advice.”

  Ben stuck his hands in his pockets and squinted as he stared at the flames again. “We’re all going to miss James. But I’m going to do everything I can to catch his killer and whoever set this fire.”

  “I know you will. What about Mark Dyson? Even though the lead on the shooting didn’t pan out, maybe you need to see if he has an alibi tonight.”

  “I’ve already thought of that. Hughes went by the motel and learned that he’d checked out this afternoon. He called the home phone number Dyson had given when questioned earlier, and the man answered. He said he’d been home for the last three hours, and his wife backed him up. He couldn’t have set this fire if he was in Knoxville at the time.”

  “I guess not,” Dean said. “Do you think you might be able to find out where the text came from by checking the cell-phone records?”

  “I’ll take care of that right away. Now I need to talk to your guests and some of the guys who live in the bunkhouse. Maybe somebody saw something suspicious that can help us out.”

  “Good. Let me know if you find out anything.” Dean glanced toward the house. “Are you going to be around awhile?”

  “I can be,” Ben answered. “Do you need something?”

  “No. I have to go talk to Gwen. She’s waiting in the office. I don’t know how long it’ll take. If you’re gone when I come back, I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

  An I-told-you-so grin pulled at Ben’s mouth, and he gave a low chuckle. “Taking my advice, are you?”

  Dean felt his face grow warm. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I have to find out if there’s a chance for us.”

  His friend slapped him on the back. “Well, good luck. Let me know what she says.”

  Dean cast one last glance at his burning barn before he turned and started walking toward the house. At any other time the loss of a barn might have devastated him. But not tonight. Everybody was safe, and he was thankful for that, and now he was about to face what might very well be the worst blow of his life.

  He entered the house through the door to the kitchen and stopped in the middle of the room. His heart was beating like a bass drum, and he could almost taste fear in his mouth. What if she said no to him? What would he do?

  He closed his eyes for a moment. Dear God, he prayed, I’m afraid. I love her so much, but I sense she has misgivings. I’ve told her how I feel. Now I pray for courage to hear her out. And then give me the strength to accept and live in peace with whatever she has to say. Amen.

  He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Now to face Gwen. He strode through the kitchen and down the hall to the office. He stopped at the door before entering and stared at her. She stood at the window, her arms crossed over her chest, gazing out at the burning barn. For a moment he stood still, enjoying the pleasure that rippled through him at having her here in his home.

  “Gwen,” he said softly, loving the way her name sounded on his lips.

  She turned slowly, dropped her arms to her sides and leaned back against the windowsill. Her eyes sparkled in the overhead light, and the sight of tears caused his heart to race. Neither of them spoke as he took a step toward her.

  Then, before he knew what was happening, she ran across the room, straight toward him. He grabbed her in a fierce embrace, and her arms circled his neck. His heart pumped even faster as she ran her fingers into his hair and pulled his head toward hers. His lips crushed down on hers, and he groaned as he tightened his hold on her.

  He’d been longing for this moment for years, and here it was. He was pouring all his hurt and grief from the past into that one kiss, and she was answering with the same emotion. In that instant he knew the truth: she loved him as much as he loved her.

  He pulled his head back and stared down at her. “Gwen, I love you. I need you. Please tell me this means you’re going to stay.”

  Tears streamed from her eyes as she tugged free of his arms. She turned and walked to the middle of the room, where she stopped and wiped her cheeks. He stood there, stunned, staring at her back. The way she’d kissed him had filled him with hope. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Finally, she turned to face him. “I do love you, Dean. I want to stay more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I can’t.” He took a step toward her, but she held out a hand to stop him. “Don’t come any nearer,” she said.

  He felt as if the breath had been sucked from his body. “I don’t understand. You love me, but you can’t stay? It doesn’t make sense. Why can’t you? Is it Rick? Are you determined to marry him?”

  Her forehead wrinkled, and she frowned. “Rick? No. I told you we were just good friends. I’m not in love with him.”

  Dean gritted his teeth and took another step toward her. “Then tell me why you kissed me.”

  She cringed back as if she couldn’t bear for him to come a step closer. “Because I wanted one last kiss from you while you still think you love me. After I tell you what I must, you’re going to hate me.”

  He shook his head. “I could never hate you, Gwen. I’ll always love you.”

  “I wish that were true.”

  Now he was getting scared. He’d never seen such a look of agony on anyone’s face. He took another step toward her, and she backed up until she was against the desk. He advanced and grabbed her hands. “Whatever you have to tell me, we can work it out together. What is it?”

  She pulled one hand free, reached up and cupped his jaw. “I love you so much, Dean. And I’ve been so cruel and kept a secret from you that could have been the biggest blessing of your life. I’m so sorry. I only hope someday you can forgive me.”

  Her body shook so hard he thought she was going to coll
apse, and he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, so close he could feel her breath on his face. “Tell me, Gwen,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “What is it?”

  She licked her lips and stared up at him. “I was pregnant when we divorced. We have a daughter.”

  TEN

  For a moment she didn’t know if Dean had heard her or not. He didn’t breathe or move. He just stared at her. Then slowly he released her and took a step back. He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “What did you say?” he rasped.

  He looked at her as if she was a total stranger, and Gwen realized that was exactly what she had just become to him. A stranger. Someone he didn’t understand at all. She wanted to soothe the hurt she saw filling his eyes, but didn’t know how.

  “You have a daughter, Dean.”

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then opened them again. The hurt was still there. Perhaps it was more than hurt. Maybe it was already turning to hatred. She had to finish this while she could, and then she had to get out of here.

  “Why?” he whispered. “Why would you keep that from me?”

  “Because I was scared. You were drinking so much, and you’d become violent. You almost killed me.”

  His face turned ashen, and his lips trembled. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know you didn’t. It was the alcohol and the nightmares, but you did hurt me. I was afraid of what you might do to our child if she happened to be the one you attacked the next time you had one of your episodes—or if you attacked me again, while I was still pregnant. At the time I didn’t think I could take a chance with her life.”

  “But it’s been five years. During that time did it never occur to you to find out if I was still drinking? To check and see if I could be a father to my daughter?”

  “I thought it was better if I didn’t know. And I couldn’t risk letting you find out about her if you were still drinking.”

  He turned and stumbled across the room to the window, where he grabbed hold of the sill to steady himself. He didn’t speak for a few moments, just stared outside. Then he spoke in a soft voice. “What’s her name?”

  “Maggie.”

  “Maggie,” he repeated. “I like that. What does she look like?”

  A tear rolled down Gwen’s cheek. “She has your eyes and my hair. She has a dimple in her chin and a strawberry birthmark on her shoulder just like yours.” Gwen picked up the framed photo she’d laid facedown on the desk before Dean came in from the barn. “Here’s a picture of her.”

  He reached for it, and his hand trembled as he pulled it to him. His gaze raked the photograph for several minutes, and then he began to trace Maggie’s face on the glass with his index finger. “I thought I had nobody. And all that time I had...” The words ended on a sob, and he wiped his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to speak again. “Does she go to school?”

  “She started preschool this year, and her teacher says she’s very smart. She’s already reading, and she’s a wonderful artist. She’s always drawing me pictures. Our refrigerator is covered with them all the time.”

  “I’ve never had the opportunity to hang them on my fridge.”

  The accusation cut deep, and the sorrow in his eyes even deeper. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I know now how wrong it was, but at the time it seemed the only thing to do.”

  He held up the picture. “May I keep this?”

  “Of course. And I’ll make sure you have current photos from now on.”

  He took a deep breath and glared at her. “I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with pictures. I want to see her. I want to go to New York and spend time with her so I can get to know her. Then I want her here at my house for visits. She won’t get to meet my grandfather now, but at least she can see the house and the land he loved.”

  “Of course. I’ll give you our address and the name and address of my lawyer before I leave in the morning. You can have yours get in touch with mine, and we’ll work out a custody agreement. Is that okay with you?”

  He looked down at the picture he held and nodded. “That will be fine with me.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Then I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said.

  The curt dismissal felt like a punch in the stomach, and Gwen ran after him as he headed toward the door. She grabbed him by the arm, and he stopped, but didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead. “Dean, I understand how you must feel about me right now, but I want you to know I meant it when I said I love you. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

  There was only a small tremor in his cheek that gave any indication her words had reached him. Then he sighed and bit down on his lip. “I hope so, too, Gwen.”

  With that, he pulled free from her and walked from the office. A few minutes later she heard the kitchen door bang shut, and she ran to the window and peered outside. She watched as Dean walked across the backyard, which was still lit by flames at the barn. His shoulders were slumped, and he didn’t look back. A group of ranch hands stood to one side in the shadows. He walked into their midst and was swallowed up by the night.

  Sobbing, Gwen rushed from the office and upstairs to her room. She flung herself on her bed and buried her face in the pillow as she cried out her misery. She’d known that he would hate her, but she hadn’t thought it would hurt this much.

  There was no way she could survive an encounter with Dean in the morning. She’d leave him the information she’d promised on his desk and be out of here before the sun was up.

  * * *

  Dean tried to concentrate on the ranch hands’ conversation going on around him, but couldn’t. All he could think about was the face of that little girl in the photograph. His daughter. A daughter he didn’t know he had. How could Gwen do something to him like that?

  She’d certainly had him fooled. All the time she’d been here, she’d been hiding this secret. Maybe he’d never really known her at all.

  He walked away from the circle of men and moved closer to the barn. The firemen were still working to get the fire under control; apparently, it was proving more difficult than they’d thought. The flame-retardant paint had kept the blaze from spreading quickly, but since individual fires had been set all over the barn, the fire had still got into everything. It looked as if when it was finally extinguished he’d have nothing left but a pile of ashes.

  That had little consequence for him at the moment. He’d always thought possessions were important, but tonight he’d found out differently. He would give every penny he had if he could just get those lost years back, if he could go back and erase the drinking from his life. If he could do that, he might have had Maggie all along. But he hadn’t, and Gwen hadn’t even considered letting him know. Well, now he knew. The only question that remained was what he was going to do about it.

  “Are you okay, Dean?”

  Startled by the voice beside him, he whirled, to find Billy standing there. Dean exhaled a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay, thanks. It’s just been a wild few days.”

  “I know,” Billy said. They stood in silence for a moment as they stared at the barn. “Looks like the roof will cave in anytime now.”

  Dean didn’t reply, just stared into the flames. After a few minutes he turned to his neighbor. “Thanks for being here tonight.”

  “Glad to do it. I’m just glad I could help get those puppies out. When I saw Gwen run into that barn, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. She could have been killed.”

  “I know. She acted without thinking, and it could have ended very differently.”

  Billy glanced around at the people still gathered at the scene. “Where is she, by the way? I thought I saw her here not too long ago.”

  “She’s in her
room. Packing, I guess. She’s leaving first thing in the morning.”

  “Leaving? Why is she leaving?”

  Dean shrugged. “She needs to get back to New York.”

  “But—but I thought...” He paused.

  Dean turned his head and stared at him. “What did you think?”

  Billy shifted from one foot to the other as if he had suddenly become embarrassed about what he was going to say. “I thought...well, I thought the two of you might get back together, and she would stay on. I know James kept hoping that would happen someday.”

  Dean exhaled a deep breath and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So did I, but it doesn’t look like that’s to be.”

  “I’m sorry, Dean. Maybe something will happen that will reunite the two of you.”

  “Don’t hold your breath, Billy.”

  Ben walked up just then and frowned when he saw Dean’s face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just lost your best friend.”

  He stared back, unblinking. “Maybe I have. It didn’t work out. Gwen’s leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Ben’s mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything. Then he nodded. “Sorry about that. Things could change. Don’t give up.”

  “That’s what I was just telling him,” Billy said.

  Dean shook his head. “I know you guys mean well, but I think it’s too late for that. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. I just need to get away and think for a while.”

  “Then I’ll get out of here and leave you alone,” Billy said. “If you need me for anything, let me know.”

  Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “I will, and thanks again, Billy.”

  When he’d driven away, Ben turned back to Dean. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  He smiled and gave his friend a playful punch in the arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything stupid to disappoint my sponsor, like going out and getting drunk. I’ve come too far for that. I may not have Gwen, but I have something else to live for. I just found out that I have a daughter.”