Official Duty

by Doreen Roberts

  Cully rounded the hood of the Jeep and climbed up beside her. “Okay, buckle up.” He started the engine and obediently she fastened the seat belt at her hip.

  “Thank you for bringing in some clean clothes for me.”

  “I had Lyla wash everything. Jed took them over to the ranch and brought them back here early this morning. Everything got pretty messed up in the parking lot, what with all the water and soot.”

  “Then I must thank Lyla. And Jed, too. That was sweet of them to go to all that trouble.” She looked around. “Where’s the rest of my stuff?”

  “At the ranch.” He slid a sideways glance at her. “Lyla’s made up a bed for you. You can stay as long as you want.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. The thought of staying in that lovely house with him was tempting beyond words. Too tempting. “That’s nice of you, Cully, but I don’t want to put you and Lyla to all that trouble. I can stay at the Corbett house.”

  His mouth firmed in an expression that worried her. “I don’t think so. I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Now the fear was back, pulsing in its intensity. “You think someone tried to kill me.”

  “I don’t know what to think.” He pulled up at a stoplight, behind a shiny new BMW.

  “The nurse told me the fire was deliberately set.”

  He seemed surprised. “News sure travels fast in this town. I didn’t hear myself until a couple of hours ago.”

  “Do you have any idea who might have set it?”

  “Not yet. The fire department in Rapid City’s handling the investigation. From what I hear, someone did a pretty good job of it. Two whole cans of charcoal lighter fluid on the steps of that old building. It’s amazing it stayed up as long as it did.”

  “Didn’t the rooms have sprinkler systems? I thought it was the law.”

  “It is and they did.” The car in front of them pulled away and he followed, glancing into his rearview mirror. “Whoever set the fire had gone to the trouble of turning them off.”

  In spite of the heat bouncing off the windows of the cab, she felt thoroughly chilled. “He really wanted me dead.”

  “Well, we still don’t know that for sure.” They had reached the highway out of town and Cully sped up.

  Automatically Ginny peered into her side mirror. There was no sign of a gray minivan on the road behind them. “It’s a little too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? First my room searched, then the fire?”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t the same person. I’m saying you might not have been his first priority. If he was looking for something that could incriminate him in some way, and didn’t find it, he might have figured he’d make sure nobody else did.”

  She thought about that. It didn’t make her feel a whole lot better but it helped to know she might not have been the target of the fire. “I just wish I knew what it was he was looking for.”

  Cully uttered a harsh laugh. “If we knew that, we’d know where to start looking for him.”

  “What about the Corbetts’ house? If he thought whatever it was might be there, why didn’t he burn that down, too?”

  “It might not have occurred to him. After last night, though, he might get the idea in his head. Which is why, as soon as I’ve dropped you off at the ranch, I’m heading over to the house to check it out.”

  “No.” She sat up straight in her seat. “That will take you out of your way. You can drop me off at the motel and I’ll pick up my car.”

  “Your car isn’t at the motel. I had Cory drive it out to the ranch. He came back with Jed.”

  She thinned her lips. “You were taking an awful lot for granted.”

  His sideways glance was sardonic. “I figured you’d give me an argument about staying at the ranch. The Sagebrush was the only motel in town. Where else are you going to stay? The doc says you shouldn’t be flying for at least a couple of days.”

  So he’d talked to the doctor, too. Was there no end to his interference in her life? “I could stay in Rapid City.”

  “You could.” He nodded affably. “But you’re not going to. Not while there’s someone out there who might want you dead.”

  She had to admit, she’d feel a good deal safer with him watching out for her. “Well, all right. Thank you. Just for tonight, anyway. But you can’t take me back to the ranch now. We need to go out to the Corbetts’ house. Supposing the killer’s there now, getting ready to burn down the house? He could just disappear and we’d never know who killed the Corbetts or why.”

  “You can’t go there with me. You just got out of the hospital. You need to take it easy.”

  “I’m fine. All I have is a cough and a sore throat. We can’t waste precious time going to the ranch first, Cully. You know that.”

  She could tell he was torn between doing his duty and worrying about her. The knowledge fueled her determination. “If we lose the chance of catching this guy just because you were being stubborn, how are you going to live with that? You have to go there now, Cully. You know you do.”

  Muttering a soft curse under his breath, he drove for a while without answering her. Then, just when she thought she’d have to urge him on one more time, he said firmly, “All right. But you stay right here in the car. With the doors locked.”

  Satisfied, she leaned back. The time to argue about that was when they got there. For now it was enough that she’d won the first round.

  IF THERE WAS one thing that hadn’t changed about Ginny, Cully thought, as he pulled up in front of the Corbetts’ house a little later, it was that gutsy stubborn streak of hers.

  After everything she’d been through the night before, in spite of the fear he’d seen in her eyes, she wasn’t about to give up on finding the Corbetts’ killer. Even though it seemed there was a good chance the same cold-blooded murderer could be after her, too.

  He’d deliberately played down that angle of it. He didn’t want to frighten her any more than was necessary. He had to admit, the way things were going, it looked as if Ginny could be in danger. What he should do was put her on a plane back to Philadelphia.

  It bothered him how much he hated the thought of that. Once she left Gold Peak, he had a strong feeling she wouldn’t be back. With the Corbetts gone, she had nothing left to come back for. Then again, if Ginny didn’t want to leave, nothing he could do or say would make her go. That thought almost made him smile. Almost.

  There was something else niggling at him. Something he didn’t want to put into words. Call me if you need me, he’d told her. She’d been in mortal danger, yet he’d had to hear it from Cory, on his way to the fire. She could have died in that inferno. Without one word for him.

  She’d always been like that, ever since he could remember. Even when she was small. I can do it. I can manage. They’d been her favorite words. She hadn’t needed him then. And now, even when her life was threatened, she was still telling him she didn’t need him. Well, he didn’t need to be hit over the head to understand.

  But there was one thing he wasn’t going to argue about. As long as she was in his town, his county, his jurisdiction, he was responsible for her well-being. Whether she liked it or not, there was no way he would have let her stay in that house alone.

  This was one time when Miss Independent wasn’t getting her way. She’d have come back to the ranch for the night even if he had to carry her kicking and screaming all the way. All he could hope now was that once he got her there, he could keep his hands off her.

  Chapter Nine

  “You stay here,” Cully ordered, as he climbed out of the Jeep. “Keep the doors locked, and if you see anything unusual, lean on the horn. I’ll come running.”

  Ginny set her jaw. “I’d rather come in the house with you.”

  “I’m not going to argue about it.” He stood on the ground, one hand poised to slam the door shut, his dark gaze warning her to mind what he said. “If someone is in the house, I don’t need you getting in the way. This isn’t a request, Ginny, it’s
an official order. Got that?”

  Still she resisted, annoyed at his high-handed attitude. “And what about all the things Mabel listed in her will? I still have to collect those.”

  He drew his brows together across his nose. “You have the copy of the will with you?”

  She held up her purse. “In here. But—”

  “Give it to me.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “Give it to me, Ginny. We don’t have time to stand and argue about it.”

  Deep down she knew he was right. If he had to deal with a cold-blooded killer in that house, she’d only be in the way. But she hated like hell having to sit there twiddling her thumbs, not knowing what was going on in there.

  She sat for a moment longer while he stared at her in grim determination. Then, giving up, she snapped open her purse and pulled the folded papers from inside. “Try not to miss anything. I don’t want to have to come back here.”

  He took the papers, calmly folding them up so he could tuck them in his pocket. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “I won’t forget anything. I know how you feel about this house. And this town.”

  He didn’t add, and me, but he might as well have uttered the words. She knew they were on his mind. She wanted to cry out after him, tell him how wrong he was. For all the good it would do.

  She watched him stride up the path to the front door. Her heart pounded in apprehension. She didn’t know what she would do if she heard a gun go off in the house. She’d have to call for help on his radio but then what?

  The thought that he might be hurt—or worse—devastated her. She just couldn’t sit there and let him die. She’d have to go in. No matter what he said.

  Impatient with her runaway mind, she leaned back and tried to relax. If only she had something to read. Heaven only knew how long Cully would be in there, searching for broken windows, whatever. She should have told him to come and get her after he’d checked out the house. She could have at least helped him with collecting the bequests.

  The minutes dragged by, while her impatience intensified, until she was grinding her teeth. To hell with it. The Jeep was heating up, even though the windows were down and it was parked in the shade beneath a bushy fir. Orders or not, she needed fresh air.

  She unlocked the door and climbed down, her ears trained for any sound that might indicate the presence of another person. She was half expecting Old Man Wetherby to come wandering out of the forest again and the memory of Cully’s words the night before drummed in her mind. When a man’s mind has gone, there’s no telling what he’s capable of.

  She shivered, her anxious gaze probing the shadowy woods for sight of the old man. Had Wetherby’s mind snapped? Had he come gunning for Jim and Mabel? Was it his voice she’d heard in the basement, warning her she was going to die? The thought hadn’t occurred to her before but now she wondered if perhaps the old man had followed her into the house and used the key to get into the basement.

  Her skin prickled at the thought that he could have been pointing his shotgun at her in the dark down there. She hadn’t mentioned the voice to Cully earlier because she’d been convinced she’d imagined it. Now she wasn’t so sure. It could have been the old man. She should have told Cully. She’d have to tell him now.

  Just in case Wetherby was watching her from the trees, she forced herself to stroll up the path. She didn’t want to convey a sense of urgency and set him off if he was there. Part of her mind still insisted that she was being paranoid but after everything that had happened since she’d driven into Gold Peak, which seemed weeks ago now instead of a couple of days, she was ready to accept any possibility.

  She paused at the front door and took another long look around. Luckily Cully had left it unlocked and she stepped inside the cool entranceway and closed the door gently behind her.

  Standing at the entrance to the hallway, her gaze went immediately to the basement door. It was closed and she could hear no sound. No scraping, thumping or footsteps to suggest Cully was down there. He had to be somewhere else in the house.

  Now that she thought about it, the silence was unnatural. If Cully had been doing an inspection as he’d said, surely she could have heard him? It was a big house but an old one. Floorboards creaked, hinges squeaked. Just yesterday she’d sat there listening to the roof popping and cracking in the warmth of the sun.

  She paused, listening for any sound of someone moving around. Judging from the eerie silence, she might just as well be alone.

  Her pulse flinched at the thought. Once more her mind raced with possibilities. What if the killer had seen them arrive? What if he’d attacked Cully from behind, before he’d had the chance to draw his gun?

  Now that she came to think about it, she wasn’t even sure Cully was carrying a gun. What if he were lying on the floor of the basement bleeding to death?

  Unnerved, she called out his name. Her injured throat permitted no more than a hoarse cry that wouldn’t have carried farther than the stairs.

  She stared at the basement door, her heart pounding with fear. She had to take a look. She couldn’t just stand there letting her imagination scare her to death. She had to know for sure that he was all right.

  Step by step she drew closer to the door, until she was within reach of the handle. Slowly she reached out and grasped it. To her relief, it turned and the door swung open with a loud squeak of the hinges.

  She didn’t want to go down there. The thought of descending the stairs into those black shadows, feeling her way to the floor until she could reach the light, made her want to throw up. Cully had said he’d get the power put on. But had he? Would she get to the bottom and find out the light wouldn’t go on and she was in the dark?

  She couldn’t remember where she’d left the flashlight. In any case, she didn’t have time to look for it now. Cully could be lying down there. What if the killer was down there, too? Waiting for her? She called his name in her thin, raspy voice that was no more than a hoarse whisper. Nothing moved.

  Unnerved now, she backed away from the door and down to the light switch on the wall. She flicked it down and the bulbs in the hall lamps glowed. The extra light made her feel a little more secure. Leaving them on, she edged back to the door.

  Now she could see down the steps right to the bottom, to where a pool of light spread out on the basement floor. Placing a foot firmly on the top step, she eased forward. One foot down, then another. Her knees felt so weak she wondered if they’d hold her up long enough to get down to the bottom.

  The string dangled overhead as she reached the third step from the bottom. The musty smell of dust and mold seemed to fill her nostrils, irritating the tender lining of her throat. She longed to cough and dared not, though common sense told her that an intruder would already be alerted to her presence.

  A faint crack made her jump with a violence that almost sent her forward down the rest of the steps. She paused, clinging to the unstable handrail that shifted under her grasp. It was only a floorboard above her head. Just the expansion of the old house again.

  One more step and she could reach the string. Stretching out her arm, her fingers touched it, making it sway out of reach. Down one more step. Now she was half afraid to pull it, scared of what she might see. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the string and gave it a sharp tug.

  Light bathed the oblong room, blinding her for a second or two. She blinked hard, squeezing her eyelids closed before opening them again. The room appeared to be empty. She pulled in a breath and let it out again, trying to relax her tense muscles. Just in case, she crept to the corner and peered carefully around it. The space in front of the window was bare.

  It took her only a minute or two to check behind a pile of boxes, an ancient lawnmower, various garden tools and a large wooden chest that she knew contained the Christmas decorations. For a moment memory seared her mind as she remembered crowding around the Christmas tree with the rest of the kids, all eager to hang the ornaments on the fragrant branches.


  Pushing the vision away, she took a last look around and finally satisfied, headed back to the stairs. A quick tug shut her in darkness again for a moment. In her haste to reach the steps she brushed too close to a heavy shovel leaning against the wall. It fell with a clatter, jarring her nerves again.

  Leaping for the stairs, she sped up to the welcome daylight beyond the door. Cully must be in the bedrooms somewhere, she decided with a wave of relief. Most likely sorting through Mabel’s belongings to find the items listed in her will. Now she felt foolish and cursed her inventive mind.

  Her mouth curved in a smile. Jim was always teasing her about her overactive imagination. Still smiling at the memory, she reached the top of the steps and through the open doorway.

  She had taken only one step when without warning a muscled arm clamped around her chest, painfully crushing her breasts. Her assailant dragged her arm back and she was pulled hard against a sturdy body. She tried to scream as loud as her tortured throat would allow but the resulting gurgle was cut off by the large hand that descended over her mouth.

  Instinctively she raised her knee and with every ounce of strength she possessed she rammed her heel backward. It connected with her attacker’s shin with a loud crack.

  His howl of pain rang in her ears and he released her. Finding herself free, she started to run headlong down the hall. One question pounded in her mind. Where was Cully?

  Then, like a miracle, she heard his voice. “Ginny, wait! It’s me, for chrissakes.”

  The voice, she realized, had come from behind her. Whirling around, she stared at him in disbelief.

  He was bent over, one hand caressing his bruised shin.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded. “Freaking spurs?”

  Still shaking from the fright she’d had, she marched toward him. “Me? What about you? You manhandled me like I was some kind of punk druggie on a high. What the hell was that all about?”

  “I thought you were the killer.” He straightened, wincing as he shook his foot in an apparent attempt to ease the pain. “I thought I told you to stay put. What in blazes were you doing creeping around the basement like that? You were lucky I didn’t shoot you.”