“David won’t have to defend himself,” Rachel said testily. “I will.” She looked at him. “How do we begin?”
“By asking questions, the same as Perris does.”
“Like what?”
“Like who wanted to scratch Donner off his or her Christmas list. You told Perris that the number of people he’d hurt or messed with is legion. We need to talk to them, and to others who knew him.” Jake paused. “But for now, you’ve had a long day. Are you ready to head back to the Blackberry?”
She was.
A half hour later, after they’d wished Wes Atkins good-night and left Maggie in her pen, they entered the Blackberry and threaded their way through the foyer, living room and short hall. They paused outside the formal dining room where Jenna and her great-aunt Molly were discussing the morning menu over tea.
The older woman looked up and smiled.
With a rustle of her floor-length rose taffeta skirt, she swept through the dining room’s open French doors to give Rachel a warm hug. Molly Jennings was a tiny white-haired pixie with a feathery cap cut and twinkling blue eyes, who loved dressing in period clothing. She stood nearly five-feet tall in her high button shoes, and Rachel knew the cameo pinned to her long-sleeved, fussy white blouse had been a gift from her late-husband.
“How wonderful to see you, honey,” she cooed, eighty-odd years of smiles creasing her pretty features.
“You, too,” Rachel said.
“I just wish you were staying with us under different circumstances.”
“I guess Jenna told you everything.”
“She did,” Molly said, releasing her and stepping back. “And I don’t like it a bit. Unfortunately, there’s nothing an old woman can do about it except give you a bed to sleep in and pray this dreadful business is over soon.”
“Prayers and a bed are more than enough,” Rachel replied. “Thank you.”
Molly and her husband, Charles, had never been blessed with children, but over the years, Molly had loved and claimed many “nieces and nephews.” Rachel was one of them. Jenna was special, though. She wasn’t merely a blood relative, she was also the closest thing the Jenningses had ever had to a daughter. They had been honored when Jenna’s parents had named her after them.
Rachel turned to Jake. “Aunt Molly, I’d like you to meet my friend Jake Campbell. He’s been great through all of this.”
Molly Jennings’s old eyes sparkled. “So I’ve heard.” She extended a hand that was quickly swallowed up in Jake’s. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Campbell.”
“The pleasure’s mine, Mrs. Jennings,” he said, smiling. “And please call me Jake.”
“I’ll do that. Now, let’s find you a chair because I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”
Jake chuckled. “Thanks, but I should go and let you ladies talk.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” she returned, linking her arm through his and steering him toward the table where she and Jenna had been sipping tea. “I need some time to figure you out.”
Rachel and Jenna exchanged smiles, then followed. When the women were seated, Jake lowered himself to a chair.
“Now,” Aunt Molly said, propping her elbows on the table and clasping her hands, “what’s our illustrious chief of police doing about all of this?”
When Rachel had finished telling her and Jenna about Perris’s visit to the campground, Molly pursed her lips. “Makes me wonder if the note Jillian found was actually from Bryce. You know the story, don’t you, Rachel?”
Rachel glanced at Jake, then turned to Molly again. “I’m afraid I don’t. What note?”
“About five years ago, it was rumored that Bryce was fooling around with a married woman, which may or may not have been the case. He was a hound, that one, so it was easy to believe.” She sipped from her china teacup, then returned it to her saucer. “One morning, Jillian came downstairs to find a note and Bryce’s wedding band on her kitchen table. Supposedly, there were only two words on the page: ‘I’m sorry.’ Well, Jillian insisted that they were just going through a rough patch, and Bryce would be back soon. But the rest of the town thought he’d run off with a woman.” Aunt Molly harrumphed. “Personally, I thought good riddance to bad rubbish. With him gone, maybe Jillian would finally be able to wear short sleeves again.”
Jake cocked his head. “Donner objected to his wife showing her arms?”
“No,” Molly replied sternly. “He objected to her showing her bruises.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Rachel walked Jake to the front door, then followed him out to the wide wraparound porch. The moon was high in the sky, and although the air had cooled, a few stalwart crickets managed a light serenade.
They kept their voices low.
“Interesting story Mrs. Jennings told about Donner’s romantic escapades,” Jake said. “Sounds like there could be an angry husband or two out there. Or maybe a wife who got tired of being pushed around.”
Rachel had to disagree. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew Jillian. She’s not capable of murder. An angry husband’s a possibility, though.” She was about to suggest another potential suspect when Jake’s solemn features lined in the soft glow of the porch light.
“Did Donner hurt you when you were together?”
She shook her head. “No, my dad would have taken him apart. We knew each other before that element of his personality showed up.”
“Good. I’d hoped that wasn’t the reason you broke things off.” His next words came hesitantly. “You dated him for a long time.”
Rachel strolled closer to the steps to gaze at the moon. It was three-quarters full, and wispy clouds drifted across its luminous face. “Too long. I didn’t have a brain in my head back then.”
“Was it serious?”
She smiled a little. “When you’re eighteen, everything’s serious.” Memories of that time rose in her mind. “I wasn’t a very good daughter back then. I gave my parents some sleepless nights.”
“Somehow, I can’t see that.”
“Unfortunately, it’s true. I bailed out on college because Bryce said it was a waste of my time and my parents’ money. I’d never have to work, he said, because sooner or later the lumber mill would be his. He was a cute, rich, spoiled only child, and I had stars in my eyes.”
Jake ambled to the edge of the porch to join her. “Sounds like you and Donner talked about marriage.”
She nodded. “Only in the way kids do. It took me two years, but I wised up, got my accounting degree and found a job.”
“And you fell in love with David.”
“Yes. He was everything Bryce wasn’t—solid and unselfish. That’s why I can’t let Perris ruin his name.” She met Jake’s eyes in the moonlight, so grateful for his caring and support. “Thank you for offering to help me.”
He didn’t say anything for several beats, then he nodded toward the B & B’s front door. “You should go back inside. It’s getting late, and I know you’ll have another early day tomorrow.”
Yes, she would. “Billy Hutchins is coming by around eight to deliver a load of campfire wood. I need to be there to pay him.” She knew he wouldn’t like what she said next. “Jake, I’m going to move back home tomorrow.”
He sighed heavily. “You won’t reconsider?”
“No. And please … no more escort service, okay? I made it all the way to Virginia and back without a problem or a police detail.”
“Which made everyone who cares about you uneasy,” he said. “If I could have gone with you, I would have.”
Rachel fought the powerful urge to step into his arms and thank him. But for some reason she couldn’t fathom, something was off with him tonight, and she sensed the hug wouldn’t be welcomed. That made her feel … empty. “I can get to the valley on my own. The man who burned my home is a coward. Everything that happened occurred at night, and it’s only a five-mile drive. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Then I guess I’ll say good night. Just be c
areful.”
“I will.” Then wishing the evening had ended on a warmer, more personal note, she went back inside and shut the door.
Jake slid behind the wheel of his truck, started the engine, then pulled on his headlights and stared through the windshield. He should drive away and not look back. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship when he met her, but despite his best efforts, he seemed to have fallen into one. And there was no good reason for it. There were a lot of pretty women out there—even a few who enjoyed nature as much as he did. He wasn’t a narcissist, but he knew he could find someone to spend time with if he wanted. He just hadn’t “wanted” until recently.
But Rachel was out of reach, and it was futile to spend time hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, they were far from compatible on the religion issue. The man she’d married had been a devout Christian, while Jake’s faith was iffy at best. He had a hard time believing in a merciful all-seeing, all-knowing deity who purportedly loved children when his sister had been violated, then left to die like a discarded rag doll in the street. No, he and Rachel weren’t a good match. Even though the chemistry was there, she’d eventually want more from him in the faith department than he was able to give.
Dropping the truck into gear, he rolled to the bottom of the driveway, turned left and headed for home. He’d gone a quarter of a mile when the lights from the Tall Spruce Travel Lodge blinked a welcome. Lips thinning, he made the right turn into the lot and parked beside a shiny black Corvette.
A minute later, he’d crossed the asphalt and climbed the stairs to the outdoor entrance to room 214. She answered the door as soon as he knocked, which made him think she’d seen him pull into the lot.
“Hi,” she said quietly, once again opening the door wide.
“Hi,” he repeated. “You were right. We should talk.”
TEN
Tired after another sleepless night, Rachel worked up a smile for young Billy Hutchins as she parked beside her camp store and got out. He stood in the bed of his old, red Chevy truck, tossing bundles of split firewood to the cause of her insomnia—a brown-eyed, broad-shouldered game protector who caught and stacked the wood against the far side of the store. When they were finished, she’d post her Burn Where You Buy signs, a plea from the forestry service aimed at campers who transported wood from other areas. Wood that could contain harmful emerald ash borers.
“Hey, Mrs. P.,” Billy called with a smile “Hey, Billy,” Rachel called back. “Looks like you’re nearly finished.”
“Yep,” he said, tossing another bundle to Jake. “Just a few more.”
Billy was a good-looking kid in a concert T-shirt and fashionably ripped jeans, and wore his flowing blond mane in a style reminiscent of the ‘80s big-hair bands. Supplying local campgrounds with firewood put a few dollars in his pocket during the summer—money he’d eventually take to trade school to learn carpentry. He’d worked part-time at the lumber mill for a couple of months, but when the economy took a dive, eighteen-year-old Billy had been one of the first to be laid off.
Rachel walked to the truck, feeling a bittersweet twinge when Jake sent her a half smile. She missed his touch, missed his kisses. Missed sleeping the night through because she didn’t know what was going on with him. She sent a wobbly smile back, then gave her attention to Billy. “Got an invoice for me, Billy?”
“Yeah. It’s in my truck on the dashboard. It’s not fancy, but it’s something in writing.”
“Great,” she said, pulling open the door to retrieve it, then shutting it again. “Cash okay?”
“Works for me,” he said, then grinned at Jake. “I offered to split with Jake, but he told me earlier that he’d rather have coffee.”
Rachel smiled again. “I see. I think that can be arranged.”
When Billy had been paid and moved on to his next customer, Rachel poured piping-hot coffee into a foam takeout cup, then carried it outside. Jake had just whistled for Maggie. “Here you go. Your cut of Billy’s wages.”
“Thanks. Actually, I enjoyed giving him a hand,” Jake returned. “It gave me something to do until you showed up.”
“Oh?” He had something to discuss with her?
“Yeah,” he said frowning. “I got a call a few minutes ago from a guy who saw his neighbor’s kids shoot a deer last night, so I have to run. It looks like the summer grilling season’s begun. Anyway, when I get back, maybe we should put together a list of Donner’s enemies and come up with a plan—if you want.”
“I definitely want.”
“Okay, then I’ll see you later.” He moved toward his vehicle, opened the door and set his coffee in a cup holder. “Hopefully, Perris will find someone else to annoy today.”
“God willing,” Rachel said quietly. But despite the fact that he was coming back, she still felt that uncomfortable distance between them again as he waved and drove off. And it hurt.
She was preparing to go back inside when Joe Reston drove up in the golf cart, his heavy cologne almost staining the morning air. “Billy left already?”
“Yes, just a few minutes ago. He had more deliveries to make. I understand you two worked together at the mill.”
“Yeah, we did. He’s a nice kid—good worker. Then the layoffs started.” He blew out a breath. “But I guess it doesn’t make sense to cut oak when the companies we supply aren’t building furniture.” Easing off the brake, he let the cart roll slowly. “But like the old-timers say, it’s always darkest before the dawn.”
Old-timers. That lightbulb in Rachel’s mind came on. And suddenly she couldn’t wait for Jake to get back.
“See you, Rachel.”
“See you, Joe.”
When Jake and Maggie came inside at three o’clock, she’d just finished arranging to have the campground’s small pool readied for the season. She maintained the chemical levels, but the initial job was always left to professionals. Actually, it had been a day of phone calls. Earlier, she’d called Ben to thank him for the hardware for her door, and Beau Travis for hanging it.
“How did it go with the young outlaws?” she asked as Maggie scooted behind the counter to have her ears scratched.
“No dice—couldn’t make an arrest. But I called my new friend Billy and asked him to keep his ear to the ground. Hopefully, the next time local teens decide to go grocery shopping for venison, I’ll know about it.” Rachel extended a writing tablet, and Jake wandered over to the counter to take it. When he’d scanned the two names on the very short list, he looked at her. “I thought you said Donner had messed with a lot of people.”
“He did. But trading insults, refusing to pay a bill or getting all rummed up and tearing through a farmer’s hay field doesn’t seem like grounds for murder. I listed the obvious ones. Jillian because of the beatings, and Will Trehern because he owned the land, and wouldn’t sell it to me while he was still alive. Maybe Will got tired of seeing Jillian’s bruises, did the deed, and buried Bryce where he wouldn’t be found until Will was in the ground, too.”
Jake dropped the tablet on the counter. “Did you tell Trehern that you planned to develop it?”
“Yes. So if he did kill Bryce—and knew the land would be excavated—maybe he wanted Jillian to know that he loved her enough to end her torment. Or maybe he just wanted her to have closure so she could get on with her life.”
“Makes sense,” he said, but then his rugged features lined. “I need to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get upset.”
She studied him for a moment. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Since you’re convinced of Jillian’s innocence and listed her anyway, shouldn’t David be included? Was there other trouble between him and Donner that you didn’t mention? Something Perris could find out about and use to make a strong case?”
She didn’t like the question, but it was a fair one if they were going to examine all of the possibilities. “No. If there’d been any other trouble, I would have known. David and I didn’t keep s
ecrets from each other.” She nodded at the tablet. “The third and fourth spots on the page will go to the married woman Bryce was seeing, and her husband. I just don’t know their names—yet.”
“You said ‘yet’ as though you’ll know who they are soon.”
“I’m hopeful. Today when I was talking to Joe Reston, he used the phrase ‘old-timers.’ We need to talk to Elmer Fox.”
Jake smiled a little. “The same Elmer Fox who can’t wait to chew my head off over the deer management policy?”
“The same. He’s a darling man, and he’d do anything for anyone. But if the information’s out there, he’ll have it. Elmer’s the local clearing house for gossip and innuendo.”
Jake shrugged. “Okay, then. Want to take a ride?”
“I certainly do.” She glanced down at Maggie who seemed to be monitoring their conversation. “Come on, girl. The Frosty Freeze just opened. Maybe we can stop for ice cream on the way back.”
Tall, bony Elmer Fox spent much of his time honoring the Lord, helping people and quizzing unsuspecting contestants on trivia—and the rest of it growling about the “gull-danged” things people did. Rachel knew he was going to be in a “gull-dang” mood when she spotted him walking up the dirt driveway to his hundred-and-thirty-year-old, dark green two-story. He carried a slim wooden pole with a spike sticking out of the bottom—and a bag nearly overflowing with litter.
A minute later, Jake had parked and the three of them were facing Elmer. He nodded at Jake, then took time to welcome Rachel and smile at the dog before he launched into a diatribe about litterbug kids who didn’t have the courtesy God gave rice. Eventually, they were invited to sit on his front porch to look out on a sea of hand-painted signs. The backs were blank. The fronts were memorable. Most of them decried local government; others were more universal: Honor Our Vets. Trust in the Lord and Be Saved. No Trespassing. A decades-old sign draped with faded red, white and blue bunting simply said: ROSS PEROT.
“Always been partial to dogs,” Elmer said, affectionately ruffling Maggie’s fur. He’d taken a seat on the worn wooden rocker, leaving the porch swing for Jake and Rachel. “Had two beagles once. They were fine dogs. Never chased cars, never chased deer.” The pale blue eyes behind his rimless eyeglasses sent Jake an extended look. “You here to talk about the deer, Mr. Game Warden?”
On Deadly Ground Page 13