She turned back to Jake. “What can you do to lighten my load?” Smiling again, she handed the pastry bag to him. “You can belly up to my lunch counter while I make coffee to go with these. They’re cranberry-apple muffins. Jenna insisted that I take a dozen to share with the men, and you just happen to be a man.” A tall, ruggedly good-looking man who’d become far too important to her.
They were enjoying a second cup of coffee when the roar of construction machinery ceased and a bevy of excited shouts shattered the morning calm. Exchanging a startled look, they leaped from their stools and pushed through the screen door.
Please, Rachel prayed as they raced down the driveway to the trampled grass near the site. Please don’t let anyone be hurt. She could see Tim now, standing silently with his men, their expressions dour.
Tim’s uneasy gaze met hers as they approached, and he exhaled raggedly. “Sorry, Rachel. Looks like we’re shut down again.” Then he stepped back to give her a clear view of the chewed-up ground and sod … and the hairs at the back of Rachel’s neck stood on end.
Directly in front of the dozer blade was a scattered human skeleton, its skull lolling at a sickening angle some distance from the body. Rachel drew a steadying breath. There appeared to be a bullet hole above the left eye socket.
“Dear God,” Rachel whispered, a chill running through her.
Jake spoke quietly from behind her. “Better call Perris. I think we know what your prowler was looking for now.”
Jake hung back several yards while Chief Lon Perris stood at the edge of the crime scene conferring with two state police officers. Nearby, new-hire, Patrolman Call Drago, took photographs and the county coroner unzipped a body bag. There’d been no wallet, I.D. or jewelry with the remains, but pieces of ragged clothing had been recovered along with a plastic beer chip from a tavern in the next county. Luckily, the dental work seemed to be in good-enough shape to quickly identify the victim if he was local. Charity had only two dentists. Jake had overheard the coroner say he suspected that the body had been in the ground for four or five years, but that was only his best guess.
Perris said something to the staties, then walked over to where Jake and Rachel stood. “Let’s go somewhere and talk, shall we, Mrs. Patterson?” He glanced up at the sky. “Preferably out of the sun.”
“Of course,” she replied. She sent Jake an entreating look. “Coming with me?”
He nodded. You bet he was. He’d been involved since the prowler incident nine days ago. He wasn’t backing away now.
Minutes later, he eased back against the nearby pop machine while Perris took a seat on a stool at the camp store’s counter and Rachel lowered herself to the one beside him. She slid their coffee cups aside.
Perris pulled out a pen and notebook. “Okay, Mrs. Patterson. It’s Q and A time again. Any guesses as to the vic’s identity?”
She shook her head. “None at all.”
“No campers went missing in the past five years?”
“I don’t do a head count when they check out, but no one ever mentioned a missing friend or relative.”
“And how long have you owned the campground?”
“It was my late-husband’s when we married six years ago,” she said. “But the property where the bones were found wasn’t mine until recently.”
Perris raised a black eyebrow. “It wasn’t?”
“No, I inherited it from an elderly man who passed away last year. I’d asked him several times if I could buy it because Willard—Mr. Trehern—had no plan to use it. By itself, it was too narrow to build on. But it bordered my land and was big enough for a putt-putt golf course.”
“Trehern just left it to you? There was no provision in the will for payment to be made to his next of kin?”
Rachel shook her head. “I had no idea he’d given it to me until Jillian came by after the will had been read and handed me the deed.”
Perris scribbled another note in his book. “Does this Jillian have a last name?”
“Donner,” Rachel replied, resisting the urge to say that everyone had a last name. “Will Trehern was her uncle. I don’t think he had any other relatives. None that I know of anyway.”
“Then she got the rest of Trehern’s estate?”
“I believe so.”
The chief took a minute to think. “Any chance she didn’t like sharing her inheritance?”
Jake watched Rachel’s face line. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, was there any reluctance on her part when she gave you the deed?”
Apparently she didn’t like Perris’s tone because she answered firmly, “Absolutely not. Jillian was glad I’d be using the land to make kids happy. She and her husband never had children.”
Perris folded his notebook and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Okay. Hopefully we’ll get a hit on the vic’s clothing and dental work. In the meantime, no one crosses the yellow-tape line until we’ve finished examining the surrounding woods and area.”
Rachel sent Jake a brief, startled look. “For … more bodies?” she asked.
“Stranger things have happened,” Perris replied, then stood. “But basically, we’re still looking for a bullet.” He sent her an odd look before he walked to the screen door. Then as if he’d read Jake’s uneasy thoughts, he spoke again. “Mrs. Patterson, if the man you saw last week was here to dig up those bones before the heavy equipment moved in, and he thinks you recognized him—or saw something that would lead us to him—you could be in a world of trouble. I understand you’ve hired a few men for security purposes. That’s a step in the right direction. But it might be better if you left the area for a while.”
When Perris had gone—presumably to join the PSP officers—Jake straightened from the pop machine and walked to Rachel. He didn’t like the tight feeling in his chest. “Are you okay?”
She blew out a shaky breath. “Yes.”
He didn’t believe her for an instant. She’d mentioned having a target on her back after the arson report, but there’d been a trace of flippancy in her voice. Now the reality of her situation had been driven home.
“The idea of multiple bodies buried on my land gives me chills, but I’m okay.” Her words and breathing were coming too fast. “What a tragic end to a life. He had to have been someone’s son or father or uncle or brother, but I never read or heard about anyone in the area disappearing. Shouldn’t someone have missed him?”
“Maybe he wasn’t from the area,” Jake said.
Rachel scooped up their cups, then cried out as one of them crashed to the floor. Jake took the other mug from her and set it on the counter. Her hands were shaking. “Sit down for a minute,” he said. “Take some time. The chief just laid a lot on you.”
“No, no,” she blurted, quickly stooping to pick up the pieces. “I did it. I need to clean it up.”
He eased Rachel to her feet—took the chunky pieces of stoneware from her and put it them on the counter, too. There were no tears. But the fear in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. Unable to stop himself, he gathered her close, inhaled the citrus fragrance of her hair, liked too much the feel of her in his arms.
“Just breathe,” he murmured. “Nothing’s going to happen to you while Maggie and I are around. But the chief’s right. Leaving the area for a while is a very good idea.”
The screen door swung open with a long testy creak, and a woman spoke. “Rachel, why are there police vehicles parked—”
Rachel sprang back, her cheeks flushing guiltily. “Clarissa, hello.”
Jake watched her cross the floor to a puzzled-looking woman who appeared to be in her sixties. The woman’s height and hair were both short—the latter, curly and dyed a weird burgundy shade. The jeans and long green shirt she wore with her flat sandals should have made her appear even shorter, but for some reason, didn’t. Maybe because of the strength he saw in her gray eyes.
Frowning, she hugged Rachel and kissed her cheek. “I know you said when you phoned that you didn’t need
anything, but Mamie Jackson called last night to tell me that the fire was arson. I had to come.” She released her hold on Rachel, then sent him a frosty, what’s-going-on-here? stare.
Rachel handled the introductions with grace. “Clarissa, this is my neighbor, Jake Campbell. He bought the Britmeyers’ log cabin down the road when he moved here. Jake, Clarissa Patterson. David’s mother.”
For a second, Jake froze in place. Then he smiled and shook the woman’s outstretched hand. Now he understood Rachel’s uneasy reaction. Obviously, he wouldn’t be sticking around now, but he would be staying close. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Patterson.”
“Likewise, Mr. Campbell,” she replied, assessing him. She glanced between Jake and Rachel. “You moved here recently?”
“Yes, six months ago. I’m the new wildlife conservation officer. Game warden, if you’re more familiar with that term.”
“I am. Are you enjoying the area, Mr. Campbell?”
Was there a hidden question there? Was she also asking if he was enjoying her son’s widow? There was still no way to answer except honestly. “I like it a lot. It’s similar to my old stomping grounds, although the mountains here are steeper. I’ve made some good friends.” He glanced at Rachel who was still trying to hide her awkwardness. “I’ll get out of here so you can catch Mrs. Patterson up on the news before it hits the papers. You might want to call your parents, too.”
He heard Clarissa’s nervous “What’s happened?” but he kept his eyes on Rachel.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rachel replied.
“It would be better coming from you than a friend who still lives here. You know how stories get twisted around.”
She nodded. “You’re right. Thanks for following me down here this morning.”
“Anytime,” he replied. He battled with decorum for a moment, then said what he needed to say. If Mrs. Patterson objected … well, she’d just have to object. “I’ll stop by again in a little while. Call if you need me. I’ll be home.” Then he pushed through the screen door and crossed the driveway to his truck. He was climbing into the cab when he heard Clarissa Patterson’s shocked voice.
“They uncovered a body? Oh, dear God, Rachel, I wish David were here.”
There was no other way for her to respond, but Jake still felt a sharp twinge when Rachel said, “So do I.”
Rachel was still feeling uneasy when Clarissa—not Jake—followed her back to the Blackberry, then left to visit with Mamie Jackson before returning home to Johnstown. Unlike Rachel’s parents, the Pattersons hadn’t made their home in Charity—had always lived in the southern part of the state. But when David followed his heart to the woods, they’d visited their son often and formed friendships here.
Jenna was in the combination sitting room-library polishing cherrywood tables to a gleaming patina when Rachel walked in. Even dressed casually in plum-colored knit pants and a boat-necked, creamy, three-quarter-sleeve tunic, her beautiful friend looked Vogue chic. Jenna wore tunics and long sweaters often, but not to hide a tummy or thick waistline. Tunics didn’t ride up. Tunics didn’t reveal scars.
When Rachel had finished blurting out the day’s happenings, Jenna put down her soft cloth and beeswax polish and steered Rachel to a faux-antique sofa. She sat down beside her. “A body,” she said on a stunned breath.
“Yes. Clarissa offered to stay in Charity for a while. Her husband passed away before David died, so she’s able to come and go when she wants. But I told her there was no need—that I was staying with you and friends were taking good care of me.” She sent Jenna a bleak look. “She asked if Jake was one of them.”
“He was there when she arrived?”
She nodded. “And he came back later to see how I was doing. Eventually she asked if we were dating. I think she felt better when I told her he’d probably be reconciling with his ex.”
Jenna looked surprised. “You’re not serious.”
“I don’t know. Jake isn’t talking about her.”
“Then why would you say that he was recon—?”
“Because he was holding me when she walked in, and I felt guilty.” Rachel hurried to clarify. “Not the romantic kind of holding. I was upset, and he was just trying to make me feel better—the way any friend would.”
“I think he’s more than a friend,” Jenna said quietly, then left it at that and changed the subject. She looked at Rachel intently. “You said Perris and Jake both think you should leave for a while and let your staff handle the campground opening.”
“Yes, but I can’t. There’s still a lot of work to do, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving it in inexperienced hands. The kids I hire are only there to watch the store, cut the grass and see that trash is collected. The only thing I can do is give it all to God. My life—”
“Your fears?”
That was a tall order. “As much as I can.”
Now fear clouded Jenna’s eyes. “Rachel, I believe that God watches over us, too. He gives us the grace we need to get through difficult times. But you need to do more than put this in His hands. There are people in this world who are so … so malevolent, so inherently evil that they won’t stop until they accomplish their goals. The man who burned your home could try to hurt you again.”
Gooseflesh covered Rachel’s arms, but she still tried to look at things logically. “Maybe not. The campground will be crawling with police and heaven knows who else for the next day or two, so I’d think he’d want to keep a low profile at this point—hope that the police lab won’t link any evidence they find to him. He might even run if he lives nearby.” She sent her friend a tentative look. “Jen, whoever did this is dangerous. But he’s not Court-land Dane.”
Jenna curved a hand over her stomach. It was an automatic gesture that Rachel had seen many times. “I realize that. But I’m living proof that when a man feels the need to kill, he acts without thinking things through rationally.” She paused. “I have a proposition for you.”
“What kind of proposition?”
“I want you to stay with me until Perris has someone in custody.” Rachel started to object, but Jenna went on. “All right, you can pay me the going rate, but please … don’t move into your camp store. I have an excellent security system and the police are nearby. You’ll be safe here.”
To Rachel’s relief, the phone rang, and Jenna left the room to answer it. She didn’t want her friend to worry but she couldn’t accept her offer, even though her stomach still shook and her fear was nearly indescribable. She knew she’d be jumping at shadows every time she heard an unfamiliar noise. But with Maggie at her side, Jake checking on her and constant security on the grounds, she should be okay.
Shouldn’t she?
Jenna reentered the room carrying a cordless handset, her expression still full of concern. She handed Rachel the phone. “It’s Margo calling from Kentucky. She wanted an update on the arson. You should tell her what you just told me.”
Rachel accepted the phone, then repeated the day’s events to her other best friend. When they’d talked at length, with Margo apologizing profusely for not being able to be with her, Rachel thanked her, said a warm goodbye and broke the connection.
Jenna had given her some space while she spoke on the phone. Now she walked slowly back to the sofa they’d been sharing and sat down. Something was on her mind.
“What?” Rachel asked.
“I was just thinking about the three of us—the way our lives have gone. What is it about us that invites trouble? Margo was threatened by a serial killer, I was … hurt. And now you’re dealing with this horror.”
Rachel shook her head. She had no answers. In His mercy, God had seen that Margo and Jenna survived. She could only hope that He would watch over her, as well.
“I can’t stay here indefinitely, Jen,” she said, finally addressing Jenna’s offer. “I have to take control of my life. This—” She drew a breath, felt prickles of fear again. “This thug who wants to hurt me could be a very patient man.
I can’t hide out forever. I’m moving back to the campground tomorrow.”
The night-light shone dimly in the near dark of Rachel’s upstairs room, and from outside a balmy breeze floated through the window, billowing the sheer curtains beneath the drapes. Unlike the first-floor windows, the Blackberry’s second-floor panes were free from the added mesh barriers Jenna had installed when she bought the B & B from her great-aunt.
Rachel got out of bed, walked around her packed bag, then crossed to the window. She looked out on the sleeping town. Fear could be a debilitating thing, but she didn’t want to be so afraid to die that she was afraid to live. She couldn’t do that. No matter how concerned her mother had been on the phone tonight. Then again, she hadn’t given her mom the entire story. She’d told her about the fire, skipped the part about arson, then, only later, brought up the body that had been uncovered. She’d prayed tonight that no one from Charity would call and fill in the blanks before she had a chance to. No parent needed to hear that her only child could be in mortal danger over the telephone. That news had to come face-to-face.
“What do you think, God?” she asked quietly. “Am I being an idiot for staying when so many people want me to leave?”
The extension in her room rang, and she had to smile a little, wondering if she was about to get His answer firsthand. Crossing to the Queen Anne nightstand, she picked up the phone. The alarm clock beside it said it was nine-forty-three.
It wasn’t God. It was Jake.
His deep voice burred against her ear. “I hope it’s not too late to call.”
“No, I was awake. Thinking.”
“Again—not surprised.” He paused, seeming to search for conversation. “The staties were at your putt-putt site for a long time tonight.”
“Are they really looking for more bodies?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t bring in dogs or radar. I think they were just looking for areas that might have been disturbed recently. But I didn’t call to talk about forensics.”
Rachel waited through his pause.
“I hope I didn’t make things too uncomfortable for you today when your mother-in-law was there. I think she got the wrong idea about us.”
On Deadly Ground Page 11