LOVE in a Small Town
Page 77
Before she opened them, she sensed his nearness. Had he moved closer? Excitement tickled her backbone. Her eyes opened to connect with his—yes, closer—and again her chest heaved.
“My…my husband’s parents lived on a farm,” she whispered. “We visited them often. I enjoyed it.”
“Your husband?”
Her face tightened, temples throbbed. Her gaze dropped to the ground and she backed off.
Michael had not intended to go there today. He only wanted to get to know her a little better, so he could start off on the right foot—at school and with the damn investigation. But she brought up the husband part, right? His stomach twisted. He’d be a fool not to jump on it.
Should he probe? Let it drop?
Get it out in the open.
“Yes,” she began. “He’s been, um, gone a couple of years. He was a trooper. Drug enforcement, like you.” She stopped looking at her feet and lifted her face to seek out his. “I’m sure you know all about it.”
He felt an incredible urge to be honest, tell her everything he knew, but couldn’t. Because of the damn investigation, of course. Maybe because he was attracted. Not good. He couldn’t be completely honest with her. After all, he had a job to do.
He had to probe.
“His name?” She stared into his eyes, frozen. Would she talk? “Kate?”
She broke the connection and stared at her shoes. “Rob Carpenter. He was killed in the line of duty.” She didn’t raise her face to his.
“Rob Carpenter?”
“You knew him?” Finally, she looked up.
Michael nodded. “I know the story. It happened before I came on the force.”
She shook her head, her brow knit. “Of course.” Her pained and confused look cut right through him. “Murder on the mountain. Biggest story to hit these parts in a decade. Case never solved. They were thinking of doing an Unsolved Murder television show on it. That is, if I give my permission to be interviewed. Which I won’t. I’m not into torturing myself living that all over again.”
She nervously paced a few steps left, then right.
His heart ached for her but he pushed that emotion out of his chest. He couldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of the investigation. He had to crack this case and someday, Kate needed to know the truth about her dead husband.
If she didn’t already.
Shaking himself back to reality, he toughened his emotions. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t put two and two together. Didn’t realize Rob Carpenter was your husband.”
She strode off without a word, leaving him standing there. The gentle sway of her hips softened his frustration. He breathed deeply and then sighed.
This was supposed to have been a simple investigation into an unsolved murder, but within six months it was blown into a full-scale investigation of drug running activity in and out of the country and an officer who may have faked his own death in order to avoid getting caught in the middle. It had gone on entirely too long.
Now, here he stood, two years later, the object of his investigation sashaying away, looking like she knows nothing…and tugging at every string in his heart.
Can’t happen.
He cannot, and will not, let her get to him.
But he couldn’t let her distance herself from him, either.
Chapter Six
Michael jogged to catch up with her. “Kate wait. Let’s switch gears. Why don’t you tell me about Danny?”
Perhaps a common subject would be safer than discussing her husband. He hoped, at least. She turned, looking over her shoulder. With a sigh, she retraced her steps and sat on the tailgate, looking off toward the pasture. Michael joined her and for a while, they watched the cattle chomp on hay as they lined up across the field. She pulled her legs up under her and leaned back against the side of the truck.
“There’s really not much to tell.”
“Tell me what you know.”
She looked him over. “You’re genuinely concerned then?”
“Of course I am. Anytime I hear of a kid involved in drugs or alcohol it makes my blood boil. Kids shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like that. Especially someone so young. What can you tell me?”
“I’ve only know him a few days. He hasn’t opened up much yet. In fact, he talked more when you were there than I’ve heard before.”
“He’s a loner then?”
“Seems to be. He’s living with a foster family in Legend.”
“Where are his parents?” He picked a piece of hay off the truck bed and twirled it between his fingers.
“I don’t know. From what I could gather, his parents abandoned him when the state took over and put him into rehab. He spent several months there this past year.”
Michael stared off into space ahead of him. “I don’t understand how people give up on their kids so easily.”
“Me, either.”
He studied her facial expression. There was compassion there. “What else do you know?”
She continued. “He’s nearly thirteen years old, Michael. His parents kept him out of school an entire year, so he’s behind academically, but they did manage to catch him up some when he was hospitalized. He’s been neglected. He had been through all kinds of psychological examinations prior to the discovery of his addiction to alcohol. His parents were also alcoholics. I guess he didn’t know there was anything else. He never stood a chance.”
“He needs a good support system now. What do you know about his foster family?”
She shook her head. “Not a lot. They’ve lived in Legend for a few years but pretty much keep to themselves. They’ve had some older kids at Legend High, but Danny is the first in elementary school.”
“Might not be a close connection there. What about you? Looks like the two of you are building a relationship. Would you say so?” He leaned a little closer, thankful that they were back to a conversation that wasn’t prickly.
“I don’t know. I’ve tried talking to him. He’s pretty cool to me most of the time, but he’s never been any problem. He softened a little yesterday afternoon.”
“He needs someone he can depend on, Kate. Troubled kids sometimes identify with an adult they can get close to, to be their substitute parent. You may want to be available when he’s ready to talk.”
“I will be.” She paused. “What if I say the wrong thing? I’ve never had a student with a problem like this before.”
“You won’t. I have faith in you.” Michael grinned and touched the piece of hay to her cheek.
Kate rubbed along the trail the wisp of hay made.
“Kate, I’m not trying to butt in but if you do need help in handling this… well, it is an area I have some knowledge and experience in.”
She nodded. “Was I really that ungrateful the other day?”
“No, not ungrateful. Just kind of…flustered.”
Her chest heaved. Flustered was definitely the right word.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She tossed a puzzled look his way. “What do you mean?”
“Talking. Having a conversation with me.” His expression turned serious.
“We have a mutual interest in Danny. It’s easy to talk about things or people you’re interested in.”
“Do you find it hard to talk to me?”
She stared, perhaps pondering his question. “No, not really.”
“Would you be willing to talk about Rob?”
Kate unfolded her legs and let them dangle off the edge of the tailgate. Damn you. She searched the horizon for something, anything, to focus on except the man sitting beside her.
“Kate, do you talk about him?”
She faced him. “Of course I do! Why would you ask that?” The flustered thing was back again.
“Because it could be an issue. Since I’m a trooper and we’re working together.”
“You know nothing about me or my issues.”
“I know what trooper’s wives go through when their husbands are
killed in the line of duty. I’ve seen it. You’re hurting inside. I can feel it. You need to talk to someone.”
“What? Like Danny? Do I need a support system too, Michael?” She jumped off the tailgate and walked a few feet away, threading her fingers through her hair. “You sound like Patti. Wonderful. One more person telling me what I need.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
He rose and stood behind her. “Look, I’m sorry. I thought you’d like to talk about him. I thought that maybe….”
“Oh sure. I know. You thought you could help. You have expertise in this area. No thank you.” She turned around, her gaze bit into his. “Am I that far gone that everyone thinks I need help handling my life? I’m not, Michael, really. I’m just fine and dandy.” She moved closer to the truck’s passenger door. “I know you mean well… I know you have an interest, being a trooper and all, but I honestly can’t see myself pouring out my soul to you. I’m dealing with Rob’s death fine on my own. I don’t need a counselor. I wish everyone would leave me alone.”
I don’t need to pour out my insecurities and baggage issues to you…especially to you.
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Dealing.”
She welcomed the anger boiling inside. It was the one emotion she could deal with and act on at the moment. “That’s my business, Michael Lehmann. I’ll ask you to keep out of it. You don’t know enough about me to comment one way or the other.” She jerked at the truck door handle. “Now, please take me home.”
****
Kate let the hot, stream of water massage her tired, aching muscles, and beat some of the stress out of her body. Steam filled her walk-in shower and opened her pores, washing away the day. Her exhaustion was more emotional, than physical, and she looked forward to a restful night of sleep.
She prayed for a restful night of sleep.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried and dusted herself with baby powder. The sweet-smelling lilac scent drifted as she placed the familiar white bottle back on the shelf. Instantly, she recalled the dreams she’d had of having a child with Rob, her strong desire to be a mother—a scenario that had never materialized, as Rob was so uncertain about bringing children into the world. Wanted her only for himself, he’d said, and was not ready to share. With a pang of nostalgia, she realized that her dreams of being a mother had not caught her unaware in weeks.
Not since Michael…and Danny.
After slipping into her favorite nightshirt, she eased into bed. Reaching to turn out the light, a warmth drifted over her as she glanced at the flowers Michael had given her that morning. Why he did what he did, and why he said what he had said today, was beyond her. Why was he concerned about her personal life? Why the interest in how she was grieving for Rob? Something didn’t gel here and she wasn’t quite sure what.
Forget that peaceful night’s sleep.
Her mind churned deep into the night. Michael’s talk had jumpstarted memories of her devotion to Rob, how she had fallen in love so quickly, and so completely. So sure, was she, that the kind of love she’d had for Rob, would never happen to her again.
And up until recently, she was perfectly content with her life the way it was. She was preserving a memory of a man gone two years now. Had kept everything, anything, that had to do with Rob: his uniform, his badge, the few pictures she had, the letter from the governor, the flag from his coffin.
But what kind of life was that? Could she continue living a memory forever?
Could she even think about having a relationship with another man?
With Michael?
Good Lord. I’ve only seen him twice. Impossible.
Was he attracted to her? Was that why he came to her house today?
Drug work was dangerous. She knew that for a fact. Could she risk bringing someone else into her life, love him, depend on him, take care of him, only to have him snatched away?
Forever?
Could she?
Stop it, Kate. You barely know the man. Be practical.
Finally, blessedly, she relaxed, clasping the pillow to her chest. She breathed evenly against its softness…
Far on a distant hill she saw him. Rob. His sleek, black horse silhouetted against the glare of the afternoon sun. He rode toward her and she waited, patiently, for what she knew was to come.
He pulled up slowly, their gazes interlocked, and in one swift motion she was lighter than air as he swept her off her feet and cradled her in his arms on top the horse. The kiss was sweet with the longing that seemed forever denied. She brushed back the dark curly locks of hair from his eyes, deep blue, tender, and loving. He slid her down off the horse and together they sat on a blanket covering the ground, sharing tender kisses, a reunion long anticipated. Everything was perfect, at last.
The shot sliced through the air in silence, piercing his skull with such force that he slammed into her. His heavy body slumped against her, and then fell into her lap. The horse was gone. Again, the blood came, oozing out of his skull onto her hands, her clothes, dripping in puddles around her feet.
She looked into Rob’s face, the life gone out of it, the deep blue of his eyes fading before her. She stroked his hair as the scarlet ribbons trailed down his temple. She closed her eyes tight, fighting back the frenzy, the emotion, breathlessly turning her face to the sky. A wail rent her lips against the night, now black and sinister.
She gulped in fresh air—air tainted with the coppery stench of death, and looked to her husband.
Fading…leaving her…gone…
And transformed into features too familiar. Not his. Not Rob’s. The hair lightened. Deeper brown eyes stared dark and cold up at her.
Michael Lehmann.
Kate screamed and she clutched at her comforter. Sobbing. Not believing. So real.
A terrible ringing split the night. She sat up and searched out the room. The phone on her nightstand rang twice more before she realized what it was. Fumbling with the receiver, she picked it up.
“Hello?”
The voice came low and muffled. Deep, and maybe familiar, but distorted. Yet, she heard every word clear enough to send chills down her already shaking spine.
“Stay away from Michael Lehmann.”
Then a determined click and the ugly buzz of silence.
Chapter Seven
“Everything all right, Lehmann?”
“Yes, sir. Just fine.”
“Are you in?”
“Not exactly. Not yet. I don’t think it will be long.”
“We need her. She may be the one piece of evidence we’ve not tapped. Hell, it could be a long shot but who knows? I’ve seen stranger things in my time than the local school teacher harboring a fugitive and running drugs. Has to be a loose end somewhere. This investigation has gone on too long. I want it wrapped up. The FBI is screaming down my back to get involved.”
Michael stood in his immediate supervisor’s office, listening to his irrational banter about Kate Carpenter. He spoke of her as if she was a nonentity and he didn’t like it.
“I understand that, sir. I really don’t think she’s involved.”
“You don’t think she’s involved. But you don’t know that for sure, do you?”
“No sir, I don’t.”
“Then find out. Do whatever you have to do to get close to this woman. Get into her life and find out every bit of information you can about Rob Carpenter. She may be our only link. This thing may blow up in our faces. It’s up to you, Lehmann. You’ve got to get to her.”
Easier said than done. The hard part, though, was that she had already gotten to him. He cleared his throat. He knew what was expected.
“Yes sir.”
“Good.”
“Sir? To what lengths am I to go, to get the information you suspect?”
Jenkins returned to his paperwork and wrote something on a legal pad. “You know the drill, Lehmann. Whatever it takes.”
He swallowed hard.
That’s what he was afraid of. Only problem, he wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t that kind of agent.
Michael stared at the ATF logo on the wall past Jenkins head. Alcohol, tobacco, firearms and explosives were his forte—not romancing a woman in order to prove a ridiculous notion of an aging superior officer.
For he truly felt, the idea that Kate Carpenter was involved in the mystery surrounding that night on Legend Mountain over two years ago, was absurd.
According to his investigation thus far, she was a woman wary of relationships and still mourning the “death” of her husband. He wondered if she’d gone through the grieving process.
Yet, the notion still nagged at him. Was it all an act? He wanted like hell to think it wasn’t, but he knew things weren’t always as they seemed.
That’s what he had to find out—if things were not as they seemed.
He needed information but he certainly was not going to romance it out of her. Didn’t matter what Jenkins said. He couldn’t do it. Kate Carpenter was much too fragile for him to play with her emotions.
Much too fragile.
Special Agent or no, undercover DARE officer or not, he wouldn’t take advantage of her, but he’d not give up the case, either. He didn’t want any other agent’s hands on her doing whatever it takes.
“Yessir,” he answered Jenkins. “I’ll take care of it.”
Chapter Eight
“Just a few more stitches.”
The entire class, including Danny, gave a cheer. They’d worked hard on this project from the beginning and now, were nearly finished. Three weeks of hard work was paying off and Kate was proud. This was truly something they achieved together, for a cause that would benefit them all.
The friendship quilt wasn’t her sole idea. Having read about it in a teacher’s magazine, she liked the idea from the start. It taught many lessons. In their history unit, they discussed the early American settlers and how the women used sewed fabric scraps together to make warm blankets. They learned about the early American craft system and compared it to how we manufacture goods today.
The students designed their own appliqués in their art class, integrating the curriculum into other subjects. The art teacher showed them how to lay out designs on a grid and pick complimentary colors for the scheme they chose. Each student contributed their own ideas, as long as it pertained to the theme—friendship. The results were astounding.