Aware of Sally staring at her, she hastily switched her gaze but the damage had been done.
Sally grinned and said softly, “Let me guess. Cully Black just walked in.”
Ginny sighed. “Okay, so I’m glad to see him. I’ve been sitting here for almost two hours. Much as I like this place, and talking to you, I’m ready for some fresh air.”
“Uh-huh. Or a fresh cowboy, right?”
Ginny managed a light laugh. “You haven’t changed a bit, Sally Irwin.”
“Thank the good Lord.” Sally glanced over her shoulder at Cully, who had stopped to speak to a couple of men at a table a few yards away. “I got to admit, girl, you know how to pick ’em. I’ve often wondered how come some young chick hasn’t pounced on our good-looking sheriff and put a ring on his finger. As my poor dead momma used to say, he’s one fine specimen of a man.”
“I guess Cully just isn’t the marrying kind.”
“I think you’re right. More’s the pity. What a waste. What a damn waste.” Sally raised her voice as Cully moved toward them. “Well, there you are, Sheriff. This little gal here has been chomping at the bit wondering where you were.”
Ginny squirmed as Cully’s intent gaze rested on her face. “Sorry. Took longer than I’d figured.”
“That’s okay,” Ginny said lightly. “Sally and I have been having a great time catching up on all the gossip.”
“We sure have. And now I gotta go. I need to spend some time with my kids when they get out of school before I have to come back here and face the mob again tonight.” Sally pushed her chair back and stood. “So I’ll leave you two alone.” She slapped Cully’s arm. “Behave yourself, cowboy. Take good care of my friend, here.”
“I intend to.” Once more his gaze flicked over Ginny’s face, sending all kinds of thoroughly unsettling signals. He turned back to Sally. “You take good care of those kids of yours. I saw Gary just the other day. That boy is growing like a weed.”
“Ain’t he, though.” Sally gave him her expansive grin. “Costing me a fortune in clothes, too. Now he’s talking about them fancy sneakers all the kids are wearing. A pair of them cost more than a week’s groceries, I swear. I’ll have to get another job at this rate.”
Still laughing, she headed for the door, stopping now and then to exchange a snappy word or two with the few customers that were left.
“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Ginny said, as her friend disappeared out the doors. She rose from her chair and gathered up her purse. “I can’t believe it’s been more than ten years since I last saw her. It seems like yesterday.”
“Twelve,” Cully said. He stood back to allow her to move past him.
She glanced up at him. “Pardon?”
“It’s been twelve years since you left.”
Once more he’d unsettled her. Wondering just what his point was, she started moving toward the door, just as he added quietly, “And it seems like a lifetime.”
She was still trying to figure out exactly what his remarks had meant as they pulled out of the parking lot in the Jeep, heading for the highway.
She thought about asking him but was wary of making something out of nothing. The memory of that kiss this morning still hovered between them. She could sense the restraint in him, as if he were wary of saying the wrong thing, of misleading her by some stray word or action.
Her skin tingled when she thought about being in his arms again. In fact, throughout her conversation with Sally, the memory of it had kept coming back to torment her. How could she be this close to him and not remember his hands on her, his mouth hungrily searching for hers?
He’d agreed, a little too readily, when she’d called it stupid. But in those brief moments she’d sensed the heat in his kiss, the longing that matched her own. If that car door hadn’t slammed outside the house, who knows what might have happened.
So it was just as well they had been interrupted. Had they gone any further and finished what they’d started, all those feelings she’d worked so hard to suppress all these years would have come roaring back, only to end in heartbreak again. No, she’d been hurt enough by his indifference. She would never give him the chance to do that to her again.
Casting about for something to say, anything to take her mind off her insistent memories, she said lightly, “I’d like to pick up something for dinner tonight. I thought maybe we could stop by the store on the way through town.”
He didn’t answer her right away but seemed intent on watching the road. “Lyla’s most likely got the meal all planned out,” he said finally. “Better not get in her way. She figures the kitchen is her castle.”
“I wasn’t going to get in the way,” Ginny said mildly. “I just thought it would be nice if I cooked dinner and gave her a break.”
“I reckon she’d like that.” His smile went a long way to calming her rattled nerves. “Take a rain-check?”
She nodded, wondering if she’d be around long enough to cook dinner for him. “So, tell me what happened. Did you talk to Luke?”
“I did. He was working at the quarry all day. The guys out there backed him up on that.”
She waited a moment then asked casually, “What about the plane crash? Did you find out anything about that?”
“I’m still waiting for them to get back to me with a report on that.” He braked as a silver sports car cut in front of him. They were passing the burned out motel and an involuntary shudder shook Ginny’s body. One end of the building was completely collapsed, with only a skeleton frame left standing.
The other end, where she and Marty had climbed down the ladder, was a blackened hull with shattered windows and a charred roof. The stench of burned wood and acrid chemicals still filled the air.
Someone had set that fire deliberately. Someone who wanted her dead. If Brandon could see her now, he’d certainly have the last laugh. It was as if he’d kept his word and reached out from the grave. If you have the guts to outlive me, I’ll come right back to haunt you. You will never be rid of me. Never.
“You okay?”
The question, spoken in Cully’s deep voice startled her. “I’m fine.” She unclenched her fingers and forced a smile. “I was just thinking about the fire, that’s all. I could have died in there.”
His face was set in stone as he answered her. “No one’s going to hurt you, Ginny. I’ll make sure of that. You’re safe as long as you are with me.”
She had no answer to that. Part of her was comforted by his concern and his assurances. The other part of her longed for something more than just a cop doing his duty. More than just a man responding to his basic urges. Much, much more.
“I was thinking we might take a ride up to Wetherby’s place. I need to talk to him, and we can check on your house one more time before we call it a day.”
It seemed strange to hear it referred to as her house. She still couldn’t accept the fact that she owned it. All she knew was that she didn’t want go back in there again. Twice she’d been scared out of her wits and now she seemed to sense an undercurrent of something frightening, something evil in that house.
Even the memory of Cully’s searing kisses that morning had failed to disperse the sense of impending doom. She could only hope that the house would sell quickly and that she would never have to go back there again.
“Is that okay with you? I can take you back to the ranch first if you don’t feel up to it.”
His voice reminded her she hadn’t answered him. “No, of course I’ll go with you. I feel just fine. Really.”
He gave her a searching look that seemed to penetrate her soul. She dropped her gaze, wondering if he could see in her eyes what was so potently obvious in her mind and her body. He was inches away. If she moved just slightly to the left, she could lean against him, feel the warmth of his body.
A vision flashed into her mind. Two naked bodies, glistening with sweat, locked together while their hunger took them to a blazing, tumultuous climax. Mouths devouring each other, hands reach
ing, stroking, touching, trembling with the wonder of a passion never imagined until that moment.
“On second thought, maybe it’s not a good idea to take you up the mountain again. Whoever tried to run us off the road could still be up there, waiting for another chance. You’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ll take you back to the ranch first. You’ll be safer there.”
“No!” She turned to him and placed her hand on his arm. “I want to go with you. I don’t want to be alone. You said yourself I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.” Part of that was true. And part of it was the growing awareness that soon she would have to leave him and go back to her life in Philadelphia. She needed to make the most of the time she had left with him, even if that meant facing danger with him.
“You won’t be alone. Lyla will be there, and the dogs.”
“Please, Cully.” Her fingers curled on hard muscle. “I really want to go with you.”
After a long pause, he said quietly, “Okay. I just hope I don’t live to regret this.”
Worried that he might change his mind, she started talking about her lunch with Sally, hoping to get both their minds off the risk of driving up the mountain again.
Even so, she found herself watching the road behind them through her side-view mirror, afraid that any minute she’d see the gray minivan looming up behind them.
They reached the trail to her house without seeing another vehicle, however, and she began to relax a little as they pulled up in front of the yard.
It took all her willpower to walk into the house with Cully. He made her stay close behind him while he quickly checked the rooms and then ordered her to stay in the hallway while he went down into the basement.
“It’s all clear,” he told her as he came back up the stairs. “I thought the driver of that van might have come back here, but nothing seems to have been disturbed since we left, so I’m hoping he’s given up on whatever he hoped to find here.”
“Good, then I guess it will be all right for Neil to show the house? He’s waiting for your approval before bringing anyone out here.” She followed Cully outside, breathing a good deal more easily once the door was closed behind them.
“I guess we should hold off a little longer,” Cully said, climbing back into the Jeep. “I want to make sure that no one’s using the house to hide from the law. Someone out there apparently has a key to this place, and until we find out who that is, I don’t want strangers walking around.”
Ginny gasped. “Darn, that’s what I meant to do. I need to get a locksmith out here to change the locks.”
“We’ll do it on the way back through town.” Cully looked at his watch. “We should have time to talk to Wetherby and still get back to town before the locksmith closes.”
Ginny looked back at the house as they pulled away. Strange that the one place where she’d always felt safe and secure should now feel so frightening and hostile. With any luck at all, she’d never have to set foot in it again.
Wetherby’s shack sat deep in the woods, beyond a rough trail that ended several yards from the ramshackle building. The urgent barking of a large dog greeted them as they made their way on foot through the tangle of undergrowth to where the shack stood in a small clearing.
Ginny was very glad she had Cully’s sturdy body in front of her as they approached the rickety porch, where an angry rottweiler stood, feet apart, hair bristling on his back as he snarled a warning at them.
Cully paused, his hand resting on his holster as he shouted out, “Ben? Ben! It’s the sheriff. I want a word with you.”
The dog growled, deep in his throat, then erupted into a frenzy of barking as the door opened and Old Man Wetherby appeared in the doorway, his shotgun slung over his arm.
“Shut up, Max!” he yelled. “Whadda you want, Sheriff?”
“I want to talk to you.” Cully took a couple of steps forward, then paused as the dog snarled again. “You wanna put that beast on a leash?”
The old man put his hand on the quivering animal’s back. “Get inside, Max.” When the dog didn’t move, Wetherby gave it a hefty shove. “I said get inside, dammit.”
With a final warning growl deep in its throat, the dog turned and slunk through the doorway.
Wetherby closed it behind him then faced them again. “That you, Ginny Matthews?”
Ginny stepped out from the shelter of Cully’s broad back. “Hi, Mr. Wetherby. Yes, it’s me.”
The old man scowled at Cully. “What’s she doing here?”
“She’s looking for the key to her house.” Cully took a few steps closer to Wetherby. “You don’t happen to have it, do you, Ben?”
“Key? Heck, no, I don’t have no goldarn key. Whadda I wanna key to that house fer?”
“I dunno.” Cully lifted his hands in a shrug. “I thought maybe you were looking for something. Down in the basement, maybe?”
The old man looked bewildered. “I ain’t never set foot in that house. Not when Jim was alive, nor now that he’s a dead’un. Not once. I wouldn’t go in that house if you paid me a million dollars, that’s fer sure. Butch’s ghost is right there in that dang house. I’m not going near that place. No sir.”
“You told Ginny that you’d seen the ghost of your dog,” Cully said. “Now what I’m wondering, Ben, is how you happened to see that ghost if you didn’t go in the house.”
Wetherby’s pale blue eyes remained steadily on Cully’s face. “Well, I’ll tell ya, Sheriff. I seen that ghost through the window. At night. Ol’ Butch is a’wandering around there, happy as a duck on a pond. I seen his shadow moving down that there hallway as plain as can be.”
“And you didn’t go in there after him?”
“Hell, no! Whadda you take me fer, an idjet? Like I told you, ain’t no way I’m going in that house.” He raised his shotgun and shook it at Cully. “This’n here gun ain’t no damn good against no ghost, and thassa fact. Thought you’d ’a known that, Sheriff.”
Cully nodded. “Reckon I do at that, Ben.” He twisted his head to take a look around. “You didn’t happen to see a minivan around here, did you? A big old gray van?”
Wetherby’s eyes narrowed. “I might have done.”
Ginny caught her breath. “It has tinted windows,” she blurted out. “You know, the blue kind that you can’t see through?”
Wetherby’s head swung on her direction. “You shouldn’t be up here, Ginny Matthews,” he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. “You don’t belong here now. Go back where you belong.”
“Ginny owns the Corbett house, Ben.” Cully sent her a warning glance. “She has as much right on the mountain as you do.”
“Nope, that she don’t. That house don’t belong to no one except Butch now. That blamed bastard Jim Corbett killed my dog, and now Butch has the whole house to hisself. Ain’t no one gonna live there no more. So go on home, Sheriff, and take Ginny Matthews with you. She don’t belong up here.”
“I will Ben, just as soon as you tell me about that gray minivan you saw. Did you get behind the wheel? Maybe take it down the mountain for a joyride?”
Wetherby’s blue eyes widened. “Me? I ain’t driven nothing but my ol’ Ford over there for the last ten years.” He jerked his thumb at the battered pickup parked at the side of the shack. “Damn near gets me where I want to go and thassa fact.”
Cully jammed his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “Then I reckon you won’t mind if I take a quick look around here, then?”
Ginny held her breath as the two men faced off. Wetherby still held the shotgun pointed at the sky, while Cully stood with his feet braced apart, his body tensed for action.
After what seemed an eternity, the old man shook his head. “Hell no, Sheriff. You look wherever you want. But I’m telling you there ain’t nothing here but my ol’ truck.”
Cully jerked his head at Ginny to follow him as he tramped around the shack, searching the ground as he went.
Ginny waited until they were out of earshot before aski
ng urgently, “Do you really think he was driving that van? And set the fire?” The chill ate into her bones again. “And killed the Corbetts?”
“Well, he seemed pretty determined to get you off the mountain.” Cully paused, then dropped to his haunches to stare closer at the ground. “But his growl is a whole lot fiercer than his bite. I don’t think that old man is capable of murder, no matter how mad he was at Jim. I can see him maybe shooting out the windows of the house, but shooting them both in cold blood and then running them off the road in their truck takes a lot more than temper. It takes an evil mind, not to mention muscle. No, I don’t think Ben Wetherby’s our man.”
“Then what are you looking for?”
Cully got to his feet. “Tire tracks. Even on dry ground, a van that size would leave some tracks. Even if Ben didn’t commit the murders, there’s always the possibility he’s involved with the killer in some way.”
The icicles slid down Ginny’s back. “Are you saying he hired someone to kill Jim and Mabel?”
“No, he doesn’t have that kind of money. But he may know more than he’s telling us. I’ll have Cory bring him down to the station. Ben’s more likely to talk if he feels threatened by his surroundings.”
They had reached the other side of the shack and Ginny followed him out into the clearing. Wetherby still stood on the porch, but now the shotgun rested on the floor, leaning against the wall, while the old man attempted to light a pipe, the match’s flame shielded by his gnarled hand.
“Find anything, Sheriff?” Wetherby’s gaze probed Cully’s face, while smoke from the pipe wreathed about the old man’s head.
Instead of answering him, Cully approached the porch and set one foot on the bottom step. “Where’d you see the van, Ben? Was it around the Corbett house?”
The old man’s shrewd gaze never faltered. “Don’t remember where I saw it. The memory’s not what it used to be, Sheriff.”
Cully nodded. “Well, maybe you’d remember better if you came down to the station.”
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