“I haven’t even had a pet,” she said, hugging the cat to her chest. “I was afraid it would run away or die, and I couldn’t bear that. You’re wasting your time with me. It’s never going to change.”
Jake stood slowly. “If that’s the way you want it, Kate. I’ve done everything I can think of. Every move I make, I second-guess. I’m willing to work at this, the two of us together. But I can’t make you want it bad enough to try.”
“I have to go,” she said, her voice almost a gasp.
“You can’t run forever, Kate.” Jake stood perfectly still.
She held the cat. “I can’t do this, Jake. I have to go.” She started backing up, her steps quick. “I’ll go to Denver. I’ll check out the leads on the timing devices.”
“If you keep running now, Kate, you won’t ever stop.”
Familiar in her arms, Kate fled. This was what she’d dreaded more than anything. Jake had finally had his way, he’d forced her to confront the truth about herself. In a small corner of her heart, she’d always hoped that when the right person came along she’d be able to care, to give her heart. Now that was a closed door. Jake was the one, the man she’d loved since she was an innocent. And if she couldn’t give her heart to him, then she would be alone for the rest of her life.
What Jake had done, in an effort to reach her, was to strip away even the illusions she had left Now there was only the ugly truth. She wasn’t capable of loving. Not in the way necessary to form a bond. She would always be alone.
She ran out to the street. Familiar made no protest as she put him in the truck. Stomping the gas, Kate sped into the flow of traffic and headed straight for Denver.
Saints preserve us, I hate to admit it, but the blasted feline was right. Jake and Kate are in serious peril. A blow to the heart is a deadly wound, and poor Jake is suffering something fierce. Let me fetch the bottle of Jameson and see if I can’t cheer him a bit. A little tipple of the bottle would dull the pain long enough for him to do what he needs to do. Perhaps a poem to cheer him.
There once was a fireman named Jake,
Who suffered hot fires for love’s sake.
Fair Kate he would wed,
But she ran from his bed,
Afraid that his love was a fake.
Ah, enough poetry. I have my work to do. Perhaps I’ll pen another verse tomorrow. Something a bit more cheerful.
JAKE SAT AT THE TABLE contemplating the cup of coffee that had grown cold. Ouzo had brought up a bottle of Irish whiskey, acting as if he understood what had just transpired. There were times when the dog was uncanny in his ability to sympathize.
The trouble was that a drink wouldn’t help matters a bit, and Jake had no one to blame but himself. He’d pushed and pushed until he’d finally pushed Kate right out the door. Why couldn’t he have just taken some time, worked with her.
He also had an additional problem, one that was also rooted in the past. The body in the casino wasn’t Anne McArdle. So what had actually happened to her? Anne hadn’t left with Johnny Goodloe. Kate hadn’t been abandoned. At least that’s what he wanted to believe.
It was going to be devastating news to Kate. She’d spent so many years believing her mother was alive somewhere, living with the man she loved.
If Jake had been able to win Kate, to make her believe she could trust and rely on him, then maybe he could encourage her to find out what had really happened to her mother. He could help her deal with it. As tragic as the facts were, they might even take some of the sting of abandonment away from Kate.
His whole intention had been to put himself in a position so that Kate had someone to lean on. But she’d never trust him now. She was gone, a creature so full of fear that her green eyes had been wild with it.
He felt Ouzo’s cold nose brush against his palm and the lick of a wet tongue on his fingers.
“Hey, fella,” he said softly, stroking the dog’s fur. Ouzo was a rascal and a troublemaker, but there were times when he knew exactly what his master needed.
Suddenly he felt the dog’s sharp teeth pinch down on the base of his thumb. With a grunt of pain, he jumped to his feet. In the light from the kitchen window, he could already see the blood blister forming.
“Ouzo,” he said with irritation.
“Arf!” Ouzo wagged his tail. “Arf!”
“I’m not in the mood to play.” How had he ever thought Ouzo was sympathetic to his emotions? The dog merely wanted him to go for a walk.
Ouzo put his front paws on the table and nudged the sugar bowl with his nose. When Jake did nothing, he hit the spoon, flipping a pile of sugar on top of the map Kate had put near the center of the table.
“That’s enough,” Jake said. “Get your leash.”
As Ouzo abandoned the table and dashed off to find the red nylon leash that matched his collar, Jake slowly walked to the counter and turned off the coffeepot. There was something he needed to check, and Alexis Redfield would be the best source.
“Come on, Ouzo,” he called. “We’ve got to make some tracks and get some facts.”
Ouzo appeared with his leash in his mouth. As soon as Jake opened the gate, the dog dashed out. The leash clattered down the steps after him.
“Ouzo!” Jake made a lunge, almost falling headfirst down the stairs, but the dog was gone. Only a few black hairs floated on the air to show he’d ever been there.
“That faking, low-down, good-for-nothing dog,” Jake said. He picked up the leash. “If you get in trouble, Ouzo, you’re on your own,” he said to the empty air. Swinging the leash in his hand he hurried to the door. There was no sign of the dog outside. “That’s right, you’re on your own,” he repeated.
Before Jake could even get out the door there was a loud cry. The sound came from the side of the building, and Jake started running. He couldn’t tell it if was a man or woman, but whoever it was had to be in desperate trouble.
As he rounded the corner, he skidded to a stop. Reverend Theodore Lyte was pressed against the building. Ouzo, his tail in the air and ears cocked forward, lunged forward and scuttled back.
“This beast must be exterminated,” Lyte said as soon as he saw Jake. “He’s a menace and a danger.”
“Ouzo,” Jake called, relieved to see the dog respond to his voice. “Heel.” Ouzo dropped into place perfectly.
“I come here to try and do you a favor and that creature almost takes my leg off.” Lyte pushed himself away from the building. He dusted the elbows of his jacket as he pulled himself together. “I have a good mind to leave without telling you what I’ve learned,” he said, still busy adjusting his clothes.
Jake couldn’t help feeling a twinge of curiosity. Theodore Lyte wasn’t in the habit of doing him favors. Still, the minister got around a good bit. He might possibly be a great source of information. “What did you want to tell me?” Jake prodded.
“Several of the local business owners are going to present a petition tonight at the citizens’ meeting.” Lyte cleared his throat. “They want the city to meet the demands of the DDC to bring in their casinos and theme park. As you know, I’m opposed to any more gambling dens in this town. In this one instance, I think you and I could work together.”
Jake didn’t relish the idea of working with Lyte for any amount of time, but what the minister said was true. “What do you want me to do?”
“Think of a way to hold off any official action.”
“How do you suggest that I do that?” Jake was amused that Lyte thought he had such power.
“I don’t know,” Lyte said, obviously frustrated. “Isn’t there some technicality you can come up with? Some archaic fire law? Once this petition is passed, we might as well give the key to the town to the DDC. They’ll be in here and before long they’ll own everything in sight. They’ve already been talking with Alexis.”
“They still want to buy the Golden Nugget?” Jake felt his heart take another sinking spell. Anything related to Kate gave him a pain.
“They want that,�
�� Lyte stepped closer, “but they want the Double J more. You aren’t considering selling that property, are you?”
“Nope,” Jake answered immediately.
“If you are, I’m hoping you’d consider letting the church have it. We’ll match whatever price the DDC offers.”
“It’s not for sale,” Jake repeated. “Not to the DDC and not to you. That land’s been in my family for three generations. When I was a boy I played all over Lookout Mountain.” He gave Lyte a long look. “I still can’t believe my daddy deeded that portion of the property to the church.”
“As I understand it, your father was a very righteous man. One who knew the value of serving his church and his community.” Lyte backed up several inches. “At any rate, if you decide to sell, keep me in mind.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Jake said. Every conversation he had with Lyte turned into a high-pressure job to sell his property.
“Will you try to stop the petition?”
“There’s technically nothing I can do,” Jake said, “except maybe emphasize the fact that we have an arsonist on the loose. I don’t think Roy would like that very much.”
Lyte’s eyes brightened. “Roy stands to benefit a lot from this. You know they’re also looking at buying a chunk of his property.”
Jake caught the drift of Lyte’s inference. “Are you insinuating—”
“I’m not insinuating anything,” Lyte said quickly. “It’s just that Roy has insured every building that burned, including your ranch. Has that escaped you?”
“Those fires hurt Roy.”
“In one way. But he also has access to a lot of information about the properties.”
“I know. But if Roy has property to sell to the DDC, why would he start a panic by setting fires?”
“Perhaps you should ask Alexis or Evelyn Winn,” Lyte’s grin was widening with each second. “I believe he’s offered to buy them out.”
“Roy?” Jake was astounded. “Where did he get enough money to buy two businesses out?”
“Well, they won’t go for a premium price. At least not the Golden Nugget. What better time to pick up an old historic building—”
“That needs half a million in renovation before it can even be used again.”
“What’s half a million to the DDC?” Lyte asked softly. “It’s just a thought I have no proof. I believe their approach is two-pronged: to offer to buy Alexis out and to also use Roy as a front to make another offer. With two low offers, Alexis will think it’s the best she’s going to get.” He took several steps toward the street. “Think about it, Jake.”
“I’ll give it my undivided attention,” Jake said, watching Lyte back away, one eye still on Ouzo. Beside him, Jake could feel the dog bristling against his leg. Ouzo had taken a strong dislike to Lyte, and Jake couldn’t blame the dog. The man was a snitch and a gossip. He certainly didn’t mind hurling accusations, even when they were styled as “possibilities.”
“Come on, Ouzo,” Jake said. “Let’s pay a call on Ms. Redfield.”
When they got to the hotel in the center of Silver City, Ouzo slipped by the doorman and made it to an open elevator while Jake created a minor distraction.
“Okay, behave,” Jake warned once they were both in the elevator.
Upstairs, Ouzo darted down the hallway and went straight for a lunch tray that had been placed on the floor. Before Jake could stop him he’d wolfed down half a chicken salad croissant, the remains of a roast beef po’-boy and a slurp or two of iced tea.
“Ouzo!” Jake caught his collar and pulled him along as he made for room 611, Alexis’s latest living quarters. Jake braced himself for an orgy of pastels all madly run together, but no one answered his knock. He tried again, wondering at the muffled sound he heard from inside the room. Someone was in there. He considered forcing the door open but Ouzo had no such compunction. He charged against the door, pushing it back from a lock that had not quite caught.
Jake quickly stepped into blinding sunlight and found Alexis in a chair, with her mouth gagged and her hands tied behind her back. Her face was strained and white, and she made muffled cries around the gag.
“My goodness,” Jake said softly as he took in the ransacked room. “What happened here?” Before the words were out, he saw the thin wire that ran from the rungs of Alexis’s chair around a corner.
“Nnaake!” Alexis demanded. Her expression was murderous. Her eyes narrowed, and Jake walked over and gently removed the gag.
“Don’t just stand around gawking, untie me,” she commanded.
“Easy,” Jake said, grasping her shoulders to keep her from twisting in the chair. “Be very still, Alexis.”
“I’ve been very still for the past hour, you idiot. I’ve been still because I’m tied in this chair and—”
“I think if you move too much, you’ll trigger an explosion,” he said easily. “Now be very still.”
“An explosion…?” Alexis stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I were.” Jake traced the wire around the corner to the modern kitchen. It wasn’t a complex device. It was simple, attached to the gas oven in the kitchen. If it ignited, a fireball would blow this hotel room right out of the building.
“Jake?” Alexis called, panic in her voice.
“Be still,” he ordered. “I’ve got to defuse this thing.” He talked as he worked. In a moment the explosive device was disarmed. He walked back and began to untie Alexis. “Who did this?” he asked.
“When I find out, he’s going to pay. No one touches Alexis Redfield without her express permission.”
“You didn’t see who it was?”
Alexis shook her hands out and began to rub her wrists, which bore the marks of the tight ropes. “Roy had just left, and I was on the phone talking to Evelyn. Someone sneaked in behind me and knocked me out. When I came to, I was tied in that chair.” She rotated her head. “My goodness, I have a headache.”
“How long did this happen after Roy left?”
Alexis sat very still and thought. “Maybe five minutes. Why?”
“Do you remember anything? A footstep, a smell, the sound of the door? Anything?”
Alexis’s eyes brightened. “There was one thing.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kate pulled the truck to the side of the road and looked over the land she remembered so well. In the distance she could see a few stone pillars, but there was nothing else left of the Double J ranch. There was no reason for her to be there—except for the persistence of the cat. She had to pass the Double J to get to Lookout Church.
She had her emotions under control. She wasn’t cornered. She didn’t have to run. She was thirty-three, not eighteen. She had to keep the past and present from blending together. If she could do that, she wouldn’t panic.
Against her better judgment, she turned down the road that led to the ranch and slowly drove to what remained of the gates. As she applied the brakes, Familiar was nearly bumped from the seat.
“Sorry,” she said, “but you were the one with such a big interest in coming here. Remember? Let me take a few minutes here, then we’ll head up to the church.”
Familiar put his paws on the dash. He stared out the windshield as if he smelled something on the wind—something he didn’t like.
She’d spent many a happy evening at the ranch with Jake and his father. Jacob Johnson had been a serious man with a warm smile. Kate got out of the car and walked beside the pillars that had supported the Double J sign. The stone pillars had once been wrapped in the wild roses that Jake’s mother so lovingly tended.
The searing heat of the fire had killed the roses and even burned the sign.
Kate scuffed her boot in the dust, drawing out the two Js enclosed in a circle. Jake had had a ring made for her based on the Double J brand. It was to have been an engagement ring. The night he’d given it to her, he’d told her that he saw their future at the Double J.
Kate’s hand rested against the pillar
and she looked toward the blackened timbers of the ranch house. The past was so clear, so vivid that sometimes the future seemed pallid by contrast.
The night Jake had proposed, they’d been swimming at the little creek on the back of the Double J property. The day had been hot. High-school graduation was behind them, and Kate had remarked that she felt no more adult with her diploma in hand. Truth be told, she felt exactly the opposite.
So many of the girls she went to school with felt suddenly grown, ready for new lives, for college or marriage or entering the work force. Kate, who’d already been on her own for two years, felt only that the little security of routine that she’d found was about to vanish.
She had the money for college. Kitty had been a great believer in education, and a fund was waiting for Kate at the Silver City bank. She’d been accepted at the University of Denver, which was a short enough drive that she could commute. But she’d also applied at the University of Charleston, a fact she’d neglected to tell Jake.
She’d sent her application there because that’s where Johnny Goodloe had been from. It had crossed her mind—more than once—that if she could get to Charleston, surely she could find her mother.
She’d even called a private investigator in the old Southern city, but he’d discouraged her from spending the thousands it would probably cost to try to locate Anne.
“Honey, if your mother doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be happy if you track her down,” the man had said. She could clearly remember the soft Southern drawl and the hint of pity in his voice.
She hated it—to be a child whose mother had abandoned her. It was something that would sometimes catch her under her ribs with a sharp pain that almost made her cry out.
Jake was the closest person in her life, and she’d never once discussed the pain with him. Somehow, she was afraid he’d think less of her if he knew of the times she cried in the night for her mother.
She thought of Jake sitting at his kitchen table, a mug of coffee in front of him. He didn’t believe that her mother had abandoned her. Perhaps if, long ago, she’d told him of her own fears, of her pain, he might have helped her. As the thought came to her, she knew it was true. Jake would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. She hadn’t given Jake a chance. The minute Jake had slipped the ring on her finger, she’d decided that staying in Silver City was the last thing she wanted.
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