The Black Sheep and the Princess

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The Black Sheep and the Princess Page 28

by Donna Kauffman


  “Well, you are kind of snuggly.”

  He looked so instantly offended by that remark that she burst out laughing.

  “Cuddly?”

  “I said snuggly.”

  “Same thing. I just took you up against your sink like—”

  “I know,” she said, shivering in remembered delight. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t also be—”

  “Snuggly.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist and tugged him up against her. He grudgingly put his arms around her. “You’re very cute all the time, but you’re especially cute when you pout.”

  “I never pout.”

  “If I said I still expected you to sleep in one of the other cabins—”

  “Do you?”

  The look on his face was so startlingly vulnerable, though he swiftly masked it, she immediately felt bad for teasing him. She wasn’t used to thinking of him as remotely vulnerable, not in any immediate way. The idea that he was, with her, disconcerted her, even as it moved her. She lifted up and kissed him softly, full on the lips. “No, of course not.” She smiled into his eyes. “But see? You do pout.”

  Understanding dawned, and the most devilish twinkle sparked to life in those silvery depths. “You are so going to pay for that.”

  “What? I think it’s sexy.”

  “First you think I’m snuggly; now pouting is sexy?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Just saying. But, you know, if you think I should pay…exactly what kind of retribution did you have in mind?”

  A half second later she was on her back, on her bed, a squeal of surprised delight whooshing out of her as Donovan’s weight pressed down on top of her. “You want the detailed list?”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m a big believer in showing, not telling.”

  “Really?”

  Bagel chose that moment to let out a particularly mournful howl from outside the bedroom door, which made them both laugh. The dog followed that up with a very pathetic sigh, then collapsed in a thumping heap and snuffled along the crack at the bottom of the door.

  “I think we’ve neglected the children about as long as we can,” Donovan said, still chuckling.

  It was an off-the-cuff comment, a joke they’d already made before, so there was absolutely no reason to feel a twinge somewhere deep inside of her. Children. Donovan’s children.

  “What?” he asked, the laughter fading from his voice.

  She had no idea what he’d seen on her face. He was far too observant at times. She blinked, smiled. “Are you kidding? Bagel’s never had it so good,” she said, but the pause had been too telling, and the quip fell a little flat.

  He held her gaze for the longest moment, but rather than push, he simply leaned down and kissed her soundly. “Neither have I,” he said, then climbed off the bed.

  She watched him stroll out of the bedroom, slapping his thigh so Bagel followed him to the front door. Why couldn’t it be this easy? she wondered.

  “You coming?” he called, crouching to put on Bagel’s harness and leash.

  Kate slid off the bed, reveling in the very thought that they’d be back in it, together, tonight. And, at the same time, dreading the talk they had to have first. “Well, until the dog howled, I thought I had a pretty good shot at it. I guess I shouldn’t be greedy.”

  Donovan grinned over at her as she slid on a jacket and stepped on the porch to shove her feet into her muddy boots. “I don’t know,” he said. “Day’s not over yet.”

  She smiled, but turned just enough as she buttoned up to keep him from seeing whatever might be showing in her eyes now. Because she wanted a lot more than a day. Or a night.

  Chapter 20

  Mac held the leash in one hand and tucked his free hand in Kate’s. “Chilly,” he said, shivering a bit, and tugging her closer as they went the opposite way around the loop from the burned cabin.

  “I thought you wanted to show me something,” she said, looking surprised at his chosen path.

  “No, I wanted to tell you something.”

  He felt her tense beside him, and it tugged at his heart. She did that a lot, that heart-tugging thing, mostly without even trying. He didn’t want to add to her worries, especially when he had a pretty good idea what she was worrying about at the moment had nothing to do with the damage to her property. This part was supposed to be about pleasure and simply enjoying each other. The balance to the bad stuff, as he’d told her earlier. As he’d told himself a hundred times. And that was just in the last ten minutes.

  Only now that the moment had arrived, he suddenly didn’t know what to say. I think I’ve solved your case, and, well, it’s been a blast, hope we can get together again sometime?

  Or, The idea of having to leave you is scaring me senseless. I’m not used to needing anyone, but, I need you.

  Flip was out. And brutal honesty…well, he wasn’t quite ready for that one himself. So, when she remained silent rather than badger him with questions, he took that cue and remained silent, too, and they just walked.

  Surprisingly, rather than become more tense or awkward, their steps gradually slowed, they relaxed their hold on each other’s hand, strolling at a leisurely pace as Bagel sniffed out every rock and pinecone, and the moon flitted between breaks in the clouds.

  Mac absently rubbed his thumb along the side of her hand and wrist, pausing by the next tree as Bagel finally decided that this was the exalted place this evening to do his business.

  The mistake was lifting his amused gaze from the dog, to Kate. The moon chose that moment to blink through the night clouds, illuminating her face. She wasn’t smiling, or frowning. She looked…contemplative. Normally such a look would make him want to run for the hills, and there was a twinge of that, although for entirely different reasons than usual, but more than that, he really wanted to know what she was thinking.

  “Come here,” he murmured, tugged her hand next to his hip, turning his body into hers.

  “What?” she said, but let him pull her right up against him. He loved how easily they did that, framed each other. So effortless, so damn good. “What’s going on in there?” he asked, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “Mmm,” she hummed, kissing his chin, then rubbing her cheek on his stubble. “As little as possible.” She sighed a little then, and the smile that had begun to curve his lips tripped up some. “I just want to feel,” she said. “Touch, taste, sound, smell…” She tipped her head back and looked up between the tall stalks of the trees at the sky above, but the moon was swallowed up again, leaving her upturned face in deep shadow. “But I guess I’m not going to get to do that, am I?” She sighed and looked back at him. “So…what did you find?”

  “I’d rather talk about the touching and tasting part.”

  She smiled a little. “Me, too. But the stubborn realist in me apparently won’t let go. So, spill. What’s the theory? What did you find?”

  He held her gaze for a long minute, then sighed a little himself. She was right, no matter how badly either of them would like to think otherwise. “Well, the good news is, I don’t think your stepbrother has anything to do with this.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why do you think that?”

  “I started thinking about the cabin and why they’d torch that particular one. Yes, I moved surveillance gear in there, but it’s in direct view of your cabin, and, like you had mentioned, it just seemed too big a jump in terms of the previous level of vandalizing. I initially thought maybe spray painting the shed was a diversion, to pull you away from your side of the lake, but then, it was only by chance you walked over there. From your side of the lake, you’d have never seen it.”

  “So, why spray it at all, then? Oh. Wait, you’re saying someone really has been spying on me. Us. They sprayed the shed because they were already there, watching, and saw me walking around the lake. Maybe they thought I’d call you over to see it so we’d both be all the way around the lake.”

  He nodded. “So it wa
s a diversion after all, just not how I originally thought of it. I think they were already planning to get into my cabin. It was just a matter of waiting for us to leave. But we weren’t leaving, and then they saw me putting up surveillance stuff and—”

  “But wait, that means they were already there when they figured out the surveillance part. So, they were planning on burning that particular cabin before knowing about your gear being in there?”

  “I think so. Then you said something earlier, when Gilby was here, about how it wasn’t until you decided to do something to a piece of land nobody wanted, that all hell broke loose, and that was when it all fell together for me.”

  “Well, put it together for me. I’m still not getting it.”

  “I mentioned Shelby’s no-show and the whole developer angle might have actually been a coincidence after all.”

  “Yes, but you said yourself it was one too many things all related to the same event.”

  “I did, and it’s distracted me, tying that all together, making it work. But then we just couldn’t find a truly plausible reason for the vandalism, for the graffiti. It didn’t fit with the players we had involved.”

  Kate made a hand motion. “So, bottom line it for me.”

  He smiled a little, liking how her brain latched on to things and ran full steam ahead, just like his did. “Okay. I think the people of Ralston, or specifically those who are behind the vandalism, and now the fire, have been using the Winnimocca property. And I think they have for some time now. As you said, no one has been here in a decade, and there didn’t seem to be any chance of that changing.”

  “Until I suddenly show up.” She looked past Mac’s shoulder, at the campgrounds, despite the darkness. “So…what in the hell have they been doing here? What are they using it for?”

  “I don’t know. But I think there must have been something in my cabin, something they needed to get back or, failing that, destroy. And when they couldn’t make you go away with vandalizing and limited scare tactics, they realized they needed to get out here and take care of it once and for all. It might not have even been my surveillance gear at all, but just the fact that I moved in to that cabin, that made them panic.”

  “So why not come in when I’m away, like they do with the graffiti?”

  “Maybe they have been. And maybe you’ve been here when they sprayed the graffiti. I know they’ve been watching your cabin. I’ve found evidence of it that first morning I was here.”

  She shuddered. “So, you’re saying whoever it is might have been watching me all along? Or, that whatever it was they needed to get back took more than one trip to get out of here?”

  “Maybe it’s not so simple as all that, or maybe we’re once again overthinking it. We’re talking about the fine citizens of Ralston here, hard to say what it is that would make some of them panic like this. As for access, directly bringing a vehicle in here would be risky as the road in and out is very long and they could easily pass you coming or going. They have snuck in from other, more remote parts, places through which it would be difficult to haul things out. And it might just be a matter of difficult timing. You’ve been here a few weeks. How often have you been away from here?”

  “Not often. Only a handful of times.”

  “And no real routine to the pattern of coming and going.”

  She shook her head.

  “So that makes it pretty damn hard, unless someone is stationed here watching, to know when the coast is clear, especially if it needs to be a concerted effort in removing…whatever had to be removed.”

  “What do you think it is? Drugs? Or something else illegal, I’m guessing. You think they were storing something in your cabin?”

  “I think so. That it’s in direct line of sight of your cabin might also explain why it’s been hard for them to get into it without being seen. How closely have you inspected all the buildings since your return?”

  “The lodge, my cabin, some of the bigger ones that needed the least amount of work, I’ve gone through, but not with a fine tooth comb or anything. I am planning to do things in phases. I mean, I needed a general idea of what needed to be done, but I focused on the big jobs first. The barns, the lodge, my residence. I’ve been in or around most of the buildings, your cabin included, and I certainly didn’t see anything that looked suspicious.”

  Mac listened to her, his mind still spinning, still puzzle solving. “Maybe it isn’t anything big, then. Maybe they weren’t all that worried when you didn’t immediately do anything, or find anything, and they chose to try and scare you off instead. But then I show up in town with you yesterday, and suddenly things start to escalate, and they get sloppy.”

  She seemed to think about that, take it in. “Okay. So…what do you think it might be? And who do you think it might be?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ve been thinking about your reception in town, or the lack thereof, and it makes me think it’s more than one or two people involved. And I’m betting that they’re not low on the food chain, if you know what I mean.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “They have to be risking something potentially pretty damaging to risk discovery like they did today.”

  “Well, if someone is dealing drugs, or whatever, that’d be pretty damaging no matter who they are. And would they really risk being seen here if that’s the case?”

  “Probably not, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t pay someone else to do their dirty work. In fact, I think that degree of separation is highly likely.”

  “Do you have any suspicions on who is involved? Up the food chain, I mean?”

  Mac debated on spelling everything out before he had more proof, but she was good at analyzing details, looking at both sides of things, and he realized it might help him to talk it through with her. Besides, she should know what the possibilities were. “Gilby already knew I was installing security devices. He might not miss much, but I don’t think he just happened to notice when he stepped out of his cruiser while there was a cabin fire still in progress. And he couldn’t have known about the equipment, because—”

  “Finn flew it in on the sly. I begin to realize why you go to those lengths now.”

  Mac just nodded. “So, that means someone had to tell him about it, about what I was doing, and where I was installing it.”

  Kate’s eyes widened. “You think Gilby is part of this? But he’s been a cop forever and a sheriff almost as long. Would he really risk—”

  “Stop and think about the number of people with far bigger power in the world who have shown some exceedingly bad behavior. Sometimes with power comes a false sense of security, of entitlement. I can imagine Gilby being possessed of more than one or two of those characteristics.”

  Kate simply shook her head. “Wow. I guess you’re right, but it’s still a lot to take in. We certainly have to consider it, though. I just—well, good luck taking him down without some pretty damning proof.”

  “That’s what I was searching for today, in the remains of the cabin. Anything that might tell me what’s been going on in that cabin for the past ten years.”

  “Whatever it was, it has to be enough to make them want to commit arson, to risk destroying it all.”

  “And you heard Gilby today, saying he thought it would have to be completely razed. I’m sure that is exactly what they were hoping for.”

  She shook her head again. “It all makes a kind of twisted sense when you put it like that, but still…I just wish we knew who “they’ were. Do you think the marshal might be in on it, too?”

  “Hard to say who’s involved, but if Gilby is, it could be anybody. I’m thinking he and the sheriff are probably, at the very least, fishing buddies, or something close to it. So it’s possible. Hell, a town the size of Ralston, anything is possible. Enough that I wanted to make sure I had first crack at searching the place. I was limited in my ability to search, but I plan to be a complete pest to Roger tomorrow when he shows up, and stay as much in his back pock
et as I can.”

  Bagel finished up his business and tugged on the leash, so Mac took Kate’s hand again, and they continued down the path.

  “So, what do you think they’ve been doing out here? Drugs? Guns? Stolen stuff? I mean, in Ralston? Gilby is a pompous ass, but I don’t know that I see him as some kind of, what, warlord? I totally don’t get that.”

  “And you think because I was a New York City cop, that I’m the jaded one?” Mac chuckled.

  Kate bumped her shoulder against his. “Very funny. But what else could they be hiding up here that would make them go to such lengths to scare me off?”

  “Well, the lengths haven’t been all that great until today. It could be anything, but it might be something that’s important to them but that we might not even consider. Did you happen to notice Gilby’s face today when you let it slip that you don’t own the property? And why do you think he was out here personally overseeing what would be, in any other case, a routine fire run?”

  “It is suspicious. I guess.” They walked on in silence for a few steps; then she said, “Did you find anything today in the cabin remains that backed up your new theory?”

  “How the fire was set could be deemed suspicious. I was interested mostly in where it originated. The starting point would be set to cause maximum damage, or to make sure the spot of origin specifically burned, or both.”

  Kate slowed. “And?”

  “And I still think I’m on to something.”

  “How do you know what to look for? You were a cop, not a fireman.”

  “I’ve learned a few things since starting to work with Finn.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He smiled. “Oh, really.”

  She didn’t pursue that line of questioning, but he could tell from her contemplative expression that it was only going to be a matter of time. That was fine with him. He liked it that she was curious about him, that she’d want to know more. Oddly, he’d never once felt compelled to share the day-to-day parts of his life with anyone. In fact, while he’d been on the force, he’d been thankful there was no one waiting at home that he’d have to find a way around talking to. He’d never want to put someone he cared about through some of the gruesome or depressing realities of his job. Only now did he realize that when it was a true partnership, not only did she deserve to hear the truth of his life—after all, anything less was a sign of a lack of respect—but that, also, there might actually be some comfort in being able to share the lows as well as the highs. He’d never once looked at it that way. Now that seemed incredibly limiting to him. And kind of…lonely.

 

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