If she had an ounce of courage in her body, she’d tell him that Clarissa had gotten the right idea. She’d seen the chemistry between them, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked if they were dating. “Clarissa drove back to Johnstown. She wanted to stay, but I told her I’d be okay.”
“Did you call your parents?”
“Yes, earlier this evening, then again a little while ago.”
“And?”
Rachel lowered herself to the bed. “I’m going to squeeze in a trip to Virginia. I didn’t tell my mom everything. I need to let her know about the bad stuff in person.”
“Good. When are you leaving?”
“As soon as the sun comes up. I told Jenna that I was moving back to the campground tomorrow, but now … I have to take care of my family first.”
“Stay there,” he said. “Stay in Williamsburg until this is resolved.”
“I can’t.”
He expelled a weary blast of air. “Okay. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to make a few changes at your camp store if you’re determined to live there.”
“What kind of changes?”
“Nothing you’ll object to. Just be careful on the roads and call me when you get to your parents’ home.”
“I will,” she replied.
“Good night, then.”
“Good night. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Rachel hung up, then slipped beneath the covers again, wondering what he’d be doing while she was away. He and his protective streak would get a well-deserved break with her out of the picture. And that would free him up to do other things. See other people.
She sent a tentative glance at the phone, hesitated, then reached over to click on the antique lamp on the nightstand and pull the phone book from the drawer. After searching the yellow pages for hotel and motel listings, she eased back against her stacked pillows to stare at the ad for the Tall Spruce Travel Lodge. They had all the fancy extras. Air-conditioned units, satellite TV, Wi-Fi, a workout room, pool and spa and a free hot breakfast. Committing the number to memory, she returned the phone book to the drawer.
Eventually, she shook her head, told herself to grow up and turned off the lamp. She was a mature adult. She wasn’t a jealous teenager who longed to see if the competition was still in town.
That emotional ache in Rachel’s chest came back, and she rolled over and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come.
She knew about love. It lasted. It lived in the heart and moved through the veins like a warm elixir. But she didn’t believe that love automatically ended with betrayal, no matter how painful the breakup. People continued to hurt because they continued to love.
She couldn’t imagine Jake feeling any differently.
Her parents’ Williamsburg home was a white colonial two-story with white columns and black trim, and it was situated in a lovely neighborhood where huge azalea and rhododendron bushes were in full bloom. Her pretty mom was through the front door and down the steps to greet her as soon as Rachel drove in. Annie Morgan’s smile and outstretched arms looked so warm and welcoming that Rachel couldn’t wait to fill them.
“I’m so sorry about the house,” her mom murmured, tears in her eyes now. “Are you okay at Jenna’s?”
“No, I’m better than okay.” Rachel stepped back to admire her mother. Lord willing, this was how she’d look at sixty. Annie Foster Morgan’s sable hair was sprinkled lightly with gray now, and her green eyes were a shade lighter than Rachel’s. But their resemblance was striking. The only thing Rachel hadn’t inherited from her mom was her classic sense of style. Today she wore pale green linen trousers and a darker green three-quarter-sleeve sweater with tiny roses circling the scooped neckline.
“You’re sure?” Annie said.
“I’m sure. Jenna’s been terrific. Everyone has. This morning before I left, Reverend Landers’s wife came by to see if there was anything more the church could do for me. I have good friends, Mom.”
“Thank God for that.” Slipping an arm around Rachel’s waist, she walked her toward the house, a slight sadness in her smile. “Leave your bags in the car for now, okay? Your dad’s anxious to talk to you. He’ll feel better seeing for himself that you weren’t hurt.”
Rachel nodded. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was make her dad anxious. “He has nothing to worry about,” she replied in as light a tone as she could muster. “Fires happen, and people rebuild. I’m not jumping for joy over it, but I’m tough—like you.” She gave her mom another big hug. “Now let’s go inside so I can give Dad one of these, too.”
They were almost to the door when the cell phone in the pocket of Rachel’s borrowed pink jacket chimed out a melody, and excusing herself, she checked the number. A breathy feeling of expectation filled her chest.
“Jake, hi,” she said, smiling.
His voice was low and worried. “Hi. I thought you were going to call when you got to Williamsburg.”
“I was and I will. But I just got here. I haven’t even had time to say hello to my dad or unpack yet.” Her mother sent her a smile and a raised eyebrow, and Rachel smiled back. “Let me call you back in a little while. I need to catch up with my folks first.”
“I hope it goes well.”
“Me, too. Keep your fingers crossed.” Then she dropped her voice, said, “Talk to you soon” and slipped the phone back in her pocket.
“That was your neighbor? The game protector who lives down the road from you?”
Rachel laughed. “Mom, I know that look, and it’s not what you think. He just called to make sure I got here safely.”
“But he was concerned about you?”
“Maybe a little,” she replied, trying not to put too much importance on the call—for both of their sakes. “Why?”
Annie Morgan released a lung-clearing sigh and smiled. “No reason, except that I think … I think I’m less worried about you now.”
NINE
Tired from driving straight through from Williams-burg, Rachel clicked on her left-turn signal and turned down the long driveway into her campground. She’d left her parents’ home early enough to beat most of the traffic, but she’d gotten tied up on I-64 anyway. Now dusk was approaching, and the descending sun streaked the sky with golden pinks and purples. Still, she felt relatively safe, despite returning this late. She’d called Jenna with her ETA a while ago, and one of the guys would be patrolling the grounds. She’d just check out the campground, grab a cold drink, then head to town.
The first things she noticed when her camp store came into view were Jake’s truck parked beside the utility barn, and Maggie scouting the tall ferns and undergrowth down near the second camping loop. Then she saw Jake walking up from the wreckage that had been her home. As she’d come to expect now, Rachel felt a warm glow of attraction. He’d been out running again. His loose-fitting gray tank top and denim cutoffs showcased a lot of tan and a well-toned physique. She’d missed him these past two days.
That warm glow faded when she spotted her door. Quickly parking beside the store, she got out and took another look. Twenty yards away, Jake was closing the distance between them.
“Welcome back,” he called. Taking a white hand towel from his back pocket, he wiped his face. Damp brown hair in need of a trim clung to his forehead.
“Thanks. It’s good to be back. Where’s my door?”
“Right where it should be. Hanging on its hinges.”
“My wooden door,” she returned, fairly certain he didn’t need the clarification. “The door with the new glass pane.”
He was beside her now, a bit of exertion still coloring his voice. “Gone, but not forgotten apparently. You’ll like the steel door better. I know I will. It didn’t take much effort on your part to smash out the glass and get inside the night of the fire. Someone else could do the same.”
Flicking him a warning glance, she opened the screen door, then her new windowless door and stepped inside. “You can’t do things like this.”
“
I didn’t.” He followed her in. “Keys are on the counter.”
“Then who did?” She couldn’t imagine Clarissa arranging it. And how had Joe Reston and the Atkins brothers failed to notice someone replacing a door? Everyone had her cell phone number, and they’d promised to use it if anything out of the ordinary happened.
“Okay,” Jake said, dropping to a stool. “I bought the door, but Ben Caruthers donated the locks and hardware, and suggested a local carpenter to install it. Beau Travis. There was no charge. Travis said you knew each other from church.”
Rachel winced. “We do, but we’re not close. For that matter, neither are Ben and I.” Slipping behind the lunch counter, she took two Pepsis from her refrigerator, then slid one across the bar to Jake. “I’ll write you a check. Ben and Beau, too.”
“I won’t cash it.”
“Then I’ll find another way to repay you.”
“Rachel,” he said, sighing. “Why can’t you just—?”
“Because I’m not comfortable with charity when I’m the recipient. When you said you wanted to make a few changes, I half expected you to hang another motion light and post a Protected by Smith & Wesson sign out front. A steel door is excessive. It’s too much and it’s too expensive.”
“Then I guess it’s best that I didn’t buy the travel trailer.” He popped the tab on his soda.
Rachel stared in numb disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I considered it, but I was afraid you’d get ticked off.”
“You were right.” Shaking her head, she marched out to her car, grabbed her pen and checkbook from the locked glove box and returned to sit beside him. “How much for the door?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a receipt.”
“Look,” she said, frustrated now, “I might have to rely on my friends for a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on occasionally. But so much has happened that I have no control over, that I need to handle the things I can. My parents, Clarissa, you, Ben and half the town think I’m about to curl into a ball and roll away. That’s not going to happen. Now, how much?”
Finally seeming to understand, Jake nodded apologetically. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been billed yet, but I’ll give you the invoice when it comes in.” He hesitated. “And if you think you absolutely have to, you can add a few bucks for—”
A long, high-pitched beep sounded, and Rachel stood quickly to look around. “What was that?”
Jake sent her another rueful look. “I was getting to that. A vehicle just broke the beam of the electronic sensor near the top of your driveway. You’re getting company.”
Rachel didn’t know whether to thank him for caring or throw him out. David had always sheltered her, and after his passing, she’d come to value her independence. She didn’t want anyone making decisions that affected her life without her knowledge—no matter what their motives were.
“I’ll need the bill for that, too,” she said, heading for the screen door to watch for her “company.”
“You’re angry,” Jake said.
She turned back to him. “No. The alarm was a good idea. Thank you. It’ll be great while I’m here alone, but when my guests start coming in, it’ll have to be disabled.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.”
Tires crunched over limestone chips as a police cruiser rolled past the screen door and pulled in next to Rachel’s Explorer. Pulse quickening, she went out to meet Chief Lon Perris. But as he shut off the engine and exited the vehicle, she experienced a niggling feeling of apprehension. His lean, pockmarked features were set in stone, and there was a coolness in his black eyes that told her trouble was on the way.
“Good evening, Mrs. Patterson.”
“Good evening,” she repeated, showing him inside, then motioning him to a stool near Jake. When Perris chose to remain standing, Rachel did the same. Jake rose, too.
“How was your trip?” he asked. “I looked for you at the bed and breakfast, but Ms. Harper told me you’d planned to stop here on your way back from Virginia.”
“It was very nice, thank you. But you didn’t drive down here to ask about my visit.”
“No, I didn’t.” He gave Jake a once-over, then shifted his gaze back to Rachel. “I thought I should tell you in person that we’ve ID’d the victim. Dental records confirmed that he was the former owner of the local lumber mill.”
Stunned, she spoke in a hushed voice. “Bryce? Bryce Donner?”
Jake looked at her. “You knew him?”
“As a matter of fact, she did,” Perris said before Rachel could speak. “Mrs. Patterson and the deceased were what some people used to call ‘an item.’ Maybe they still do. She and Mr. Donner were high school steadies and had a nearly two-year relationship after that before she broke it off.” He paused. “Or have I been misinformed?”
Rachel shook her head, still trying to comprehend how Bryce could be those skeletal remains. He’d made enemies while he was alive, but did anyone deserve such a horrifying death and burial? “We … we dated sporadically. But that was years ago. How did you—”
“—know about it?” he asked. “You’ve lived here your whole life. You should know that the locals have long memories. I’m sorry for your loss.”
He was sorry for her loss? What was going on here?
“And now,” Perris said, with a pointed glance at Jake. “Maybe it would be best if we finished speaking about this privately.”
Rachel hid her growing concern. “No. Jake can hear anything you have to say to me.”
“Fine. Then I understand your late-husband used to work for Mr. Donner—and that Donner was a guest at your wedding down here in the woods.”
Rachel’s pulse accelerated. Suddenly she knew where this was going. “David changed jobs after our marriage.”
“Which is certainly understandable,” Perris returned coolly. “I’d have done the same if Donner had gotten all liquored up and tried to do more than kiss my bride. Except, your husband didn’t quit, did he? He was fired.”
Jake felt every hair on his head prickle, and he slid a cautious look at Rachel. She’d gone pale. His protective instincts kicked in. “Mind if I ask what any of this has to do with your investigation, Chief?” But he knew. Oh, yeah. He knew.
“Your screams brought Patterson and several witnesses running,” Perris went on, ignoring Jake’s question. “And in short order, Mr. Donner had a broken nose and cheekbone, and your brand-new husband was out of a job.” He gave her a moment to digest that. “Now I’d like to know how deeply your hatred for Mr. Donner went. Yours and your husband’s.”
How she managed to keep her tone cool and polite was a mystery to Jake.
“Neither of us would have ever taken a life. And if you’ve been asking around about Bryce, then you know that the number of people he hurt in one way or the other is legion. Also, the coroner said Bryce was in the ground for four or five years—and that fight happened a good year beforehand. Why would David or I wait that long to confront Bryce?”
“I couldn’t say. But to paraphrase Shakespeare, some people think revenge is a dish best served cold.”
Jake stood, unable to harness his irritation. “You’re not making sense. First of all, you should be looking for the man Rachel saw at the construction site. Second, someone just tried to burn her home to the ground with her in it. Third, why would she have the land cleared if she knew about—or was responsible for—those bones being there?”
“Mrs. Patterson was the only one who saw the alleged intruder, and her home was adequately insured. I know that because I checked. As for her developing the land, what better way to allay suspicion from her and her husband?”
Angry tears glistened in Rachel’s eyes, and her voice shook. “Are you charging me with something?”
“Not at all. I’m just checking out rumors and doing my job. You’re not the only person I’ve spoken with today.”
“In that case,” she said, s
triding to the screen door and opening it wide. “Thank you for stopping by.”
“Thank you for your time,” he said, either missing her point or choosing to ignore it. “I’ll be in touch.”
When the screen door had banged shut behind him, Rachel spun from the entry. She was a whirlwind of nerves as she snapped on the light switch beside the door, chasing the evening shadows. “God help me, I want to do something nasty to that man.”
Jake felt the same way, and nothing he considered was legal. “He’s a jerk. Don’t let him get to you.”
“How can I not?” Tears splashed over her lower lashes, and she took an impatient swipe at them. “David would never have done anything like that. He was kind and gentle, and he lived the commandments. I doubt he ever completely forgave Bryce, but he would never, ever have taken his life. It’s not who he was, and I’m not going to let Perris or anyone else ruin his good name.”
Jake fell silent, feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge flitting at the edges of his mind. Ten years ago, his grandmother had remarried after being widowed for five years. But before she’d said “I do,” she’d come to him, knowing how close he and his granddad had been. She’d told him she would always love his granddad, and she wished with all of her heart that they could still be together. But that wasn’t possible. Now she had to be content with her memories … and move on.
Would Rachel ever be able to do that?
Maybe, in time.
But Jake knew about time. It marched on and waited for no one, and eventually ran out. For a man who wanted a home and family someday, time was of the essence.
Slowly, he dropped to a stool again, knowing that as convoluted as his feelings for her were, he’d do what he could to ease her mind. If she wanted to preserve her late-husband’s good name, he’d help her. But doing more than that was a mistake.
“Maybe we should look into Donner’s murder, too,” he said. “Perris is an unknown commodity. If he’s lazy about police work—and I’m not saying he is—he could stick your husband with the murder, and he’s not here to defend himself.”
On Deadly Ground Page 12