Designing Love: An Inspirational Romance (Sunriver Dreams Book 3)

by Kimberly Rose Johnson

  “Why?”

  “You left my mother alone.”

  “Sierra said it was okay, and your mother was fine with it, too. You know I only work nights.”

  He did his best to explain what happened before ending the call. He turned to Sierra. “She said you called and told her someone was taking my mom on an outing?”

  “I’ve only seen her in passing and said goodbye as she was leaving. I never deal with the night nurse, or whatever she’s called. Did she say I did?”

  He nodded. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to believe Sierra, but he was torn. He ran a hand through his hair. “So why exactly do we need to be here if Mom’s at the hospital and the fire is out?”

  Spencer approached them and cleared his throat. “The fire looks suspicious. I thought it’d be best if everyone stuck around. This could be connected to the threat against your family.”

  John’s gut clenched. He was sick of whoever was attacking his family. Up to now it had all been harmless, but today changed things. “I wish you’d catch this person and lock him up.”

  “We’re trying.” Spencer sounded as annoyed as he did.

  A firefighter walked around from the side of the house carrying a gasoline can. He walked up to Spencer. “Looks like we found the accelerant.”

  John couldn’t believe this was happening. Who hated his family enough to start his mom’s house on fire?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Spencer read the report from the fire investigator for the second time. The stack of wood in the back of the house had been doused with gasoline and lit. The fire grew and spread to the house. Thankfully, it only damaged the backside of the house and didn’t start a wild fire.

  Spencer looked at Mark and stilled. “What’s wrong? You have that look.”

  “I spotted a gasoline can in the back of Sierra’s SUV that is identical to the one we found. It’s an antique. They don’t sell these things anymore. With a fast accelerant like that, she could have easily driven from Bend then started the fire. It would be easy to wait for a bit, then go in to play the hero.”

  Spencer’s gut tightened. “She wouldn’t do that. And having a similar gas can doesn’t make her guilty. It could have been there for a number of reasons.”

  “I agree. But she knows where the Belafonte jobsites are, she has access to all of them, the problems began after she was hired, and—”

  “And she’s been working as hard as anyone else to figure out who is targeting the family. I don’t believe for one minute she’s guilty of anything.” How dare Mark suggest Sierra was the perpetrator. He clamped down on his jaw to keep from saying something he’d regret.

  “Okay,” Mark said. “Let’s assume you’re correct, and she has nothing to do with this. Explain all the coincidences.”

  “I can’t, but they are circumstantial. You can’t prove she did any of that. She had been in Bend before the fire and had no intention of going to Mona’s place. Someone claiming to be Bailey phoned her and drew her to the house.”

  “Now we’re getting someplace.”

  “What? You’re giving up pinning this on Sierra that easily?”

  He shrugged. “I never thought she was guilty. I only wanted to get a rise out of you. You always come up with better theories when you’re angry.”

  Spencer glared at Mark. “Think we could get a warrant for the phone record? We might be able to determine who called her. My guess is it was the arsonist. He set the fire, but didn’t want to kill Mona.” Kill Mona . . . Hmm. They might have been coming at this all wrong. “We need to dig into Mona’s past. See if she has any enemies.”

  Mark nodded. “I agree. Although the family business appears to be the target, Mona might be who they are after or the reason the business has been inundated with trouble.”

  “Kind of senseless considering her health issues. From what I’ve been told she doesn’t have much longer to live.”

  “True. But, revenge—or whatever this is—doesn’t have to make sense.” Mark reached for his phone. “I’ll get right on that warrant.”

  Spencer couldn’t sit at his desk another minute. His day had barely begun and he needed to do something. Good thing he had patrol duty. It would give him time to think as well as something to keep himself busy. He headed outside and slid into the Sunriver Police Department SUV.

  The cool May morning air and blue sky promised a pretty day ahead. As someone who spent his days driving around the resort community, he appreciated the beauty of the area.

  He made a left out of the parking lot. He wanted to have a look at that gasoline can for himself. Hopefully he would catch Sierra before she left for Bend. A few minutes later he pulled up beside her vehicle and got out right as she exited the front door. “Good morning.”

  A smile lit her face. “Hi, yourself. What brings you by so early?” Her paint-splattered jeans fit her perfectly.

  “That’s a nice look on you.”

  She laughed and posed with her hands on her hips, bending one knee. “You like it. Paint clothes are all the rage on the New York runways this season.” She batted her eyelashes.

  “I’m sure they are.” He winked. Too bad he was on duty. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and kiss her silly. The thought startled him, yet they’d been going that direction for a couple of weeks. “Mark said he spotted a gas can in the back end of your rig. You mind if I take a look?”

  Her forehead scrunched. “I don’t own a gas can, much less drive around with one in my vehicle.” She strode to the back end and lifted the hatchback style door. She gasped. “How did that get there?” She reached for it.

  He grabbed her arm. “Don’t touch it. I suspect it’s evidence.”

  “For what?”

  “I believe it belongs to whoever started the fire at Mona’s house.”

  Her face paled. “Why is it in my—?” Her fear-filled gaze locked with his. “Someone is trying to set me up. Between this and that caller claiming to be Bailey.”

  “You could be right. We need to talk. I think you’d better call John or Bailey and let them know you’re going to be late to work today.”

  “Can’t this wait? There is so much to be done. It’s all hands on deck. I have to be there.”

  He wanted to help her and didn’t believe for one minute she’d set that fire, but he’d be remiss in his job if he didn’t question her. “I suppose it could wait.”

  She let out her breath in a whoosh. “Thank you.” Her lips turned down.

  “What?”

  “I won’t be able to concentrate all day if I don’t get this over with. I’ll call Bailey.”

  Sierra carefully painted the edges around the window so the pros could come in with the paint sprayer and finish off the room. She couldn’t get her conversation with Spencer from her mind. It had been kind of scary to be officially questioned, but she was glad it had been Spencer doing the questioning and not some cop she didn’t know.

  Why would someone try and make it look like she’d set the fire? The phone call made in her name to the home care provider really disturbed her too. None of this made sense. To make matters worse, Spencer seemed very bothered when she’d left. Surely he knew she was innocent.

  This nightmare had to end soon. The family couldn’t take much more. Poor Mona had moved in with Rick’s family. At least she was no worse for wear after the fire. But she had to be rattled by living at Rick’s house. She was used to a quiet, solitary life. Not one filled with the busyness that accompanied children.

  They were all on edge. No one knew what would happen next. Now Sierra seemed to be the target, and she had no idea why. Her hand slipped and the paint swiped the windowsill.

  “How’s it going in here?”

  A little scream escaped her lips. She whirled around. “John, you scared me. Next time knock first.”

  He frowned. “You okay? You’re wound a little tight today.”

  “You’d be too if evidence in an arson investigation had been found in y
our car.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” The jovial look on his face hardened.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “Obviously not.”

  She told him what Spencer had said.

  “You’re serious?”

  She nodded.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. A flurry of emotions played across his face then his gaze met hers with regret. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to believe this of you, but ever since you started working for us we’ve had problems. I know this isn’t the right thing to do, but until you can be proven innocent or the culprit is found, you are relieved of your duties.”

  The brush slipped from her fingers. “You’re firing me?” He couldn’t do that. “Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Don’t you think the police would have arrested me if they believed I did what you are accusing me of?”

  He turned his head away. “Leave now, Sierra. Don’t make this any worse.”

  His eyes plead with her to understand, but she couldn’t. It made no sense. She stomped past him. And to think she was once attracted to him. “You’re wrong about me, John.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want to believe you are capable of hurting my mom.”

  She whirled around. “Answer me this. If I wanted to hurt your mom, why would I risk my life to get her out of the house?”

  He shrugged. “Hero complex? Maybe you never intended for her to get hurt. Saving her was a way to make you look innocent and draw attention away from the phone call you made.”

  She closed her eyes against the burning sensation behind them. “You’re making a big mistake.”

  “Please leave.”

  She blinked away sudden tears and rushed from the room. She bumped into someone on the way out. “Excuse me.” Her gazed collided with Celia’s. Was that a smirk on her face?

  “Are you okay?” Celia asked.

  “I’m fine. What are you doing here? This wing is closed to guests.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize.” She shrugged.

  Yeah, right, and red doesn’t mean stop. She needed to find Spencer.

  John stared after Sierra. He wanted to follow her and tell her the truth, but knew this was for the best. At least he hoped it was. Spencer and Mark’s plan better work. He hated to hurt Sierra, but they felt it would help draw the real bad guy out if they believed someone else was being blamed.

  They would stop going after his family, or they would slip up and get caught. Spencer assured him he would keep a close eye on Sierra to make sure she was safe.

  The look of disbelief and devastation on her face about did him in. If only he could have told her what was going on. But he’d promised to keep the plan to himself. Since they didn’t know whom they could and couldn’t trust, everyone, including Sierra, needed to believe she was a strong suspect in the arson.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sierra’s phone rang. She checked the caller I.D. and one corner of her lips turned up, in spite of her bad mood. “Hey, Spencer.” She wrapped an arm around her waist as she pulled open the drapes in Mrs. Drake’s house. Sunlight streamed in.

  “Hey, yourself. Are you free for dinner tonight?”

  “As a matter of fact, my schedule is completely open for the foreseeable future.”

  “Uh-oh. What happened?”

  “John fired me yesterday.”

  “You’re kidding? Are you sure he didn’t just mean for you to lay low for a while?”

  “No. He let me go.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. I’d love to have dinner with you. Is this a date?”

  “Yes. I thought I’d grill steaks.”

  “Delicious.” This man had a way of making her feel good even when she was at her lowest. They firmed up their plans.

  “Okay then, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Sounds good. ’Bye.” She pocketed her phone then gazed out the window. A couple of deer munched on the foliage behind the house. They looked so peaceful as though they didn’t have a care in the world—the same way she felt when with Spencer. She looked forward to their date tonight.

  “Mom? What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  She turned to face her son. “Not today. I’m going to pack and get ready to move.”

  “It won’t take that long to pack. Most of our stuff is in storage.”

  “I know, but I also want to thoroughly clean this place.”

  “Isn’t Mrs. Drake paying someone to do that?”

  “Yes. It’s a girl thing. You wouldn’t understand.” Mrs. Drake might be paying someone to come in and clean, but she’d still leave the place spotless.

  The day flew by and before she realized it, it was time to shower and get ready for her date. She’d already packed everything except for a pair of black capris and a red top as well as jeans and a T-shirt for tomorrow—moving day.

  An hour later she stood at the door. “Call if you need anything, Trey. I’ll be at Spencer’s.”

  He rushed from his room. “Can I come?”

  “Uh . . . it’s kind of a . . . date.”

  He jerked his head back. “Oh. Well, say hi for me.”

  She rested her hand on the doorknob. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Yeah. You were right. He’s a good guy, once I got past the whole gun thing.”

  Relief washed over her. “I’m glad. Thanks, and next time you can come. Okay?”

  He nodded. “What’s for dinner?”

  “There’s a salad in the fridge and a box of mac and cheese on the counter.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” Although the mac and cheese from a box fell short of being a nutritional meal, it was her son’s favorite, and he liked to make it. “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  He wore a dopey smile.

  “What?”

  “You’re going on a date. I don’t remember you ever doing that.”

  “That’s because I don’t date.”

  “No. You didn’t date, but you do now. Have a good night, Mom.”

  “Thanks. You too.” She walked out and locked up after herself. Her son would be a man soon. It would be good for him to have a role model like Spencer in his life. Not for the first time, she was glad she’d met him.

  A short while later, she pulled up to his place and slid from her SUV. Spencer stood in the doorway with a dishtowel tossed over his shoulder. Her heart tripped. He looked good in dark jeans and a black T-shirt. She walked toward him. “Hi, there.”

  “Hi, yourself. Come on in. I put the steaks on a minute ago and am whipping up the salad dressing.” He moved to the side, allowing her entrance.

  “You make it from scratch?” She stepped inside his house.

  “Don’t you?” He raised a brow.

  “Once in a while, I suppose. But it’s not a normal thing.” She breathed in deeply the yeast-scented air. “You baked bread too?”

  “Not quite. I bought a loaf that only needed to be baked. I take short cuts when needed. I know my culinary limits.”

  She chuckled. “Are you enjoying your new kitchen?”

  “Can’t you tell?”

  She looked around the small space and noted almost every countertop had something going on. Including a cheesecake on a cake stand. Yes, the man enjoyed the space. She had no idea he was such a foodie. “Would you like me to stack these dishes in the dishwasher?”

  “Nope. I know it looks like a disaster, but it will only take a few minutes to clean this up. Most everything is on the grill outside.”

  “Ah, so you’re a grill master.”

  “In my dreams.” He rinsed the whisk then placed it into the dishwasher. “Everything is ready outside. I thought we could eat on the deck.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He pulled open the French doors they’d ended up installing during the remodel.

  She gasped. “You re-did your outdoor space. It looks great!”

  “Th
anks. With as much time as I spend out here, I figured it was worth the extra investment. So you approve?”

  She nodded. “Yes. You did a fine job.” A teak loveseat, two chairs and coffee table rested atop an orange indoor/outdoor rug with a chevron pattern. “You really brought the indoors out.” She looked around to see what else he’d done. The old patio table was missing—good. It had been an eyesore. She’d really wanted to do this space for him, but clearly he hadn’t needed her help.

  “Thanks. It wasn’t difficult. I went down to a store in Bend and told them what I had in mind. They had this set up just like this, and I bought the display.”

  She laughed. “Whatever works.”

  “Have a seat while I check the potatoes. We’re having mushroom Kabobs, roasted red potatoes, a cucumber and tomato salad—that’s what the dressing was for, along with fresh bread, steak, and a strawberry cheesecake for dessert.”

  “Wow!” Good thing the waistband on her pants stretched. “That’s a feast.” Who was this man? His domestic side awed her. He was definitely a man of many talents.

  Spencer transferred the food to a platter and placed it on the coffee table.

  “Everything smells amazing.”

  “Let’s hope it tastes that way too.” He bowed his head and offered a quick blessing.

  “How’d you know to pray?” She asked, looking stunned.

  “I watch TV.” He chuckled. “Plus you did when I’ve eaten with you, and the discipleship pastor at church is mentoring me. We meet once a week for coffee, and he always prays a blessing over our time together and the food or drink as the case may be.”

  “Hmm. I never had anyone in my life like that. You’re really into this mentoring thing.”

  He took her plate and placed a juicy steak on it, then a skewer of mushrooms, a scoop of salad, then potatoes. “I suppose I see the value in it. Is that too much food?” Maybe he should have let her serve herself.

  “It’s perfect. Thanks. Should I go grab the bread?”