by Marta Perry
That might be his plan. An innocent car accident, with nothing to prove that she’d been forced off the road. Hands tight on the wheel, she wrestled the car around the bend, staying on the road by what seemed sheer force of will.
All right. She managed a breath. Her success gave her a small measure of courage. She just had to stay ahead of him until she got to town where there were lights and people. That was all.
But how far was it? Surely not too far now, please, God. Her heart was thumping, her breath short. If she didn’t reach town soon she’d lose control, and there could be no good ending to that.
He was speeding toward her again, his headlights taking over the mirrors, closing in, blinding her. All she could do was cling to the steering wheel...
And then he was gone, disappearing from the mirrors as suddenly as he’d appeared. She had a quick glimpse of a dark vehicle turning off on to a side road, and then nothing.
Allison sucked in a breath. A car was heading toward her, driving sedately on the right side of the road. Ahead of her she could see the lights of the gas station at the end of town.
She exhaled, feeling limp. Now what? Drive to the police station to report it?
But Mac wouldn’t be there, most likely. He was probably still investigating the break-in at Ralph’s. She really didn’t want to try explaining all of this to a dispatcher or whoever was on duty at this time of night.
Driving as carefully as if she were ninety-five, she made her way back to the bed-and-breakfast. It would be better to call Mac and let him know what had happened. Or maybe wait until morning. He apparently had enough on his hands at the moment.
One thing seemed clear—their assumption had been wrong. The break-in at Ralph’s didn’t mean she was out of the woods.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NICK WAS STILL trying to figure out what had happened between him and Allison the previous night when he walked toward the office to retrieve some measurements needed by the flooring supplier. One minute she’d been responding to Jamie and the next she’d withdrawn into herself and made an excuse to leave.
He should be relieved. If she pulled back from any possibility of a relationship between them, whether it was because of Jamie or not, he’d have an easier time keeping a distance between them. Trouble was he didn’t feel relieved in the least. Annoyed, irritable, attracted—all of those, certainly. But not relieved.
As he passed the quilt shop, Nick couldn’t stop himself from taking a quick look inside. He stopped in midstride. Mac was deep in conversation with Allison. Disregarding the voice of reason saying that it wasn’t any of his business, he changed direction and approached them.
“What’s going on? Did you figure out what happened with Ralph’s break-in?” He focused on Mac, although a quick glance at Allison had taken in every detail of her appearance, including the fact that she looked pale and heavy-eyed.
Mac shrugged. “Like I was just saying to Allison, it looks more like vandalism than a serious attempt at burglary. Nothing was missing but a watch from the top of the bureau. The computer hadn’t been touched, or that silver Ralph collects.”
Anyone who visited Ralph had been shown his collection of antique silver. It was probably the most valuable thing he owned.
“I suppose it could have been someone who had no idea how to get rid of the silver,” Nick said. “A watch would be small and portable and easily hocked.”
“Right. I’d chalk it up to a petty thief or a druggie looking for cash if it weren’t for the break-in at the shop.” Mac sounded as if the events were a personal insult. Or maybe it was more likely that he felt offended that he hadn’t figured it out yet. “That makes it look more like a personal grudge against Ralph.”
“Seriously?” He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s the best explanation, but it’s hard to imagine anyone having that big a grudge against somebody like Ralph. He’s irritating at times, but he doesn’t have enough force of personality to be disliked.”
“Then give me another explanation,” Mac challenged. “Because I’m sure not coming up with one on my own.”
“People do take offense at the oddest things,” Allison said. “Vandalism is usually done by teenagers, isn’t it?”
“Any teenagers in particular?” Mac asked.
She shook her head, but Nick suspected she was thinking of T. J. Blackburn.
“At least this makes it look as if Ralph is the target.” Nick couldn’t deny the relief he felt. “Probably Allison just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Mac looked as surprised as he ever did. He shot a look at Allison. “Didn’t you tell him?”
“I haven’t seen him,” she said. “I assumed you had.”
“Tell me what?” His tone reflected the tension that seized him. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t overreact,” Mac said. “After Allison left the picnic last night, someone followed her and apparently tried to run her off the road.”
“What do you mean, apparently?” Allison sounded indignant. “You can look at my bumper if you don’t believe me.”
“I already—” Mac began, but Nick spoke over him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this? What exactly happened?”
Mac and Allison exchanged glances again, and Mac seemed to accept the responsibility for telling him. “Allison was followed by another car. It hit her bumper several times, but she managed to stay on the road. When they got close to town, the other vehicle veered off, apparently on Foster Creek Road.”
A pulse was pounding in Nick’s forehead. It was all he could do to control himself. He zeroed in on Allison’s face, and she stared back at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice crisp. “The air bag didn’t even go off. There’s no need to overreact.”
It was the second time in five minutes someone had told him not to overreact. It wasn’t helping. “You could have been hurt. You should have let me follow you home the way I wanted to.”
“I didn’t need a bodyguard. Or a nanny.” Allison wielded the words like weapons to keep him at bay.
Mac cleared his throat. “Guess I’ll let you two argue it out,” he said. Lips twitching, he left.
From the corner of his eye, Nick saw Sarah emerge from the back room, take one look at them and retreat.
Good. He could stand some privacy to say what he wanted. “Maybe you need just that. When will you get it through your head...” He let that trail off and counted to ten. It didn’t seem to help. “Could you identify the driver or the car?”
“No. All I could see was the light glaring in my rearview mirrors. The car was dark in color. Big, I think, not a compact. Other than that, nothing.” She made as if to turn away. “If there’s nothing else...”
He started to grasp her hands and prevented himself. That never seemed to end well. “You should have called me at the first sign of trouble.”
“I was a little busy trying to keep the car on the road. Stop telling me what I should have done. If I could have used the phone, I’d have dialed 911.”
“I was a lot closer than the police.” He was starting to sound like a stubborn idiot, even to himself, and he shook his head. “Sorry. You’re right. I just wish I’d followed my instincts and gone after you.”
The determined facade Allison was wearing seemed to shiver at his words. “When I first saw the car, I thought it was you.” Her voice had softened. “Then it hit me.”
He could see the remembered fear in her eyes. “You must have had a job to keep the car on the road.”
She nodded. “The first time was the worst, because I didn’t expect it. I was prepared the next time I saw the headlights getting close.”
Maybe it was good for Allison to relive the experience.
The tension seemed to be going out of her as she talked.
“How many times did he hit you, or couldn’t you tell?”
She actually managed a shaky smile. “I wasn’t counting, but three or four, I think.” She frowned. “It seemed to me that he was trying not to connect too hard. Mac said he might have wanted to avoid leaving too much evidence if he did succeed in making me crash.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “You’re safe, and we’re going to make sure you stay that way.” Where had it come from so quickly, this feeling he had that it was his job to protect her?
Allison rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I stayed awake most of the night trying to figure this out, and I’m no closer to an answer than I was days ago. Who? And how does it tie into this business with Ralph? That makes even less sense.”
“If Ralph knows something about the person who’s been attacking you...” He stopped, frowning. “But in that case, why go after his property? You’re right—it doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe it’s two separate campaigns.” She had the air of someone grabbing at straws.
“Two different bad guys, both embarking on vendettas against people connected with Blackburn House at the same time?” Nick’s doubt showed in his voice. “In a place like Laurel Ridge, that’s next to impossible.”
“Because the people here are saints?” The edge was back in her tone.
“No, because there just aren’t enough of them,” he shot back. “I mean, what are the odds that out of eight thousand residents, two of them would be inspired to such strange behavior at the same time?”
“I suppose you have a point.” Allison leaned back against the counter, as if too tired to hold herself upright any longer.
Nick studied her face. Stubborn. Determined to hold him at arm’s length. And vulnerable. “Look, I know I don’t have any right to tell you what to do—”
“Why do I think there’s a but coming?”
“But, please, don’t do anything alone until this is resolved. It’s just not safe.”
For a moment he thought she’d flare out at him. But then she nodded. “I’m not that stubborn.” Her smile trembled. “I won’t go anywhere on my own. I promise.”
* * *
WORKING IN HER office later, Allison remembered that promise. “I just said I wouldn’t go anywhere on my own,” she told Hector, who was curled in her lap, getting between her and the computer. “Being alone in my office is perfectly safe.”
Hector kneaded his paws on her lap, blinked and dozed off again.
Not that she was really alone. She could hear a murmur of voices from the apartment and smell the aroma of paint. The Amish painting crew had been hard at work all day, and they were certainly within shouting distance, as were the inhabitants of the other offices on this floor.
Returning her attention to the computer, Allison clicked through the various links of the quilt shop website she’d been setting up. As far as she could tell, everything was working fine. She’d give it a final check later, and tomorrow it could go live.
Something accomplished, at least, she thought as she saved and closed her work. She’d half expected more interruptions from the police, but Mac had apparently been occupied elsewhere. He’d left the shop so abruptly this morning—clearly he hadn’t wanted to get entangled in whatever was going on between her and his brother.
Nothing was going on, wasn’t that the point? The whole situation had become very simple. Nick didn’t want to be involved with her because he didn’t think she’d be good for his son. She didn’t want to be involved with him because knowing the risks, she didn’t want to be a stepmother. Fine. They’d stay away from each other. End of story.
Hector swiveled his head and looked up at her, as if he’d heard her thoughts and doubted them. Then he stared fixedly at the door. His ears pricked up, hearing something she didn’t.
A frisson of fear slid along her spine, and Allison forced it away as a knock sounded at the door. An attacker wouldn’t knock.
“Just a moment.” She rose, displacing Hector, and went to unlock and open the door. Ralph stood waiting, blinking rapidly when he met her gaze.
“Ralph, please, come in.”
He bobbed his head, his gaze sliding away from hers, and sidled through the door. Judging by his pallor and the tremor in his hands, he felt even worse than she did.
“Come and sit down.” She took his arm and guided him to a chair. “How are you? It must have been so upsetting to have your home broken into that way.”
Ralph shivered all over like a frightened horse. “You can’t imagine. It was terrible. I’ll never get over it. Never.” His pupils dilated, and he shot a look around the office.
“I know it’s frightening, but you shouldn’t let it get you down so.” Saying things like that never helped, but they seemed to come readily to a person’s lips. “I’m sure the police will find the vandals and make sure they never bother you again.”
“They won’t.” He shook his head and went on shaking it as if he couldn’t stop. “The police will never identify anyone. He... They wore gloves, and nobody saw anything.”
Allison’s gaze sharpened, and she studied Ralph’s face. He, he’d said, before he’d corrected himself. As if he knew there had been only one intruder. But how could he, unless he knew what this mysterious ‘he’ was after?
“You suspect someone, don’t you? Who was it, Ralph? And why?”
“No!” His voice rose, eyes widening. Ralph gripped the arms of the chair. “How would I know?”
In an instant he’d bolt, and she’d have lost the chance to learn what frightened him.
“It’s all right.” She leaned over to pat his shoulder, and then she dragged a chair over so she could sit down close to him. “You have friends here, Ralph. Everyone wants to help you. Just tell me what you’re afraid of, and I’ll make sure you’re protected.”
For an instant she saw in his face the longing to speak. And saw, too, the moment when fear drove the words from his tongue.
“You’re wrong. I don’t know anything.” He darted another suspicious glance around the room, lingering for a moment at the door to the attic as if expecting something from a nightmare to burst through it.
“But it was your shop. Your house. Surely—”
“It’s this place!” His voice grew shrill, and he seemed to teeter on the edge of hysteria. “Don’t you feel it? You should. It’s unlucky. Bad things happen here.”
That jolted her, with its reminder of her grandmother’s letter about something going on in Blackburn House. “What do you mean? What bad things?”
He shook his head, putting one hand to his lips. “I don’t know. I’m upset. I don’t mean anything.”
“My grandmother died here.” She kept her gaze firmly on his. “She left a letter for me, saying she’d learned that something was going on here. You know what that something was, don’t you?”
“No!” He jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the chair in his haste. “I don’t know anything except that I can’t stay here any longer. I want out of my lease.”
The words stunned her, and she struggled to grasp their meaning. “You mean you want to close the store?”
“I have to. My nerves won’t stand it here another day. Let me out of my lease, and I’ll clear out.”
Appalled, she shook her head. How could she do that? According to the terms of the bequest, she had to make a success of running Blackburn House. If she started losing tenants, where would she be?
“You can’t refuse! It...it’s a matter of my health. I can’t stay here.” Ralph twisted his hands together, and she thought he was on the verge of tears.
“Ralph, calm down, please. You must see that I can’t make a decision like that without time to consider. I’d have to speak to the attorney for the estate
as well as the accounting firm. It’s not that easy—”
“I have to go now. I can’t wait. You can’t make me.” He fled to the door and flung it open. “You’re killing me by keeping me here.”
She hurried after him, appalled, hoping to calm him. “You don’t mean that—”
“You’re just like your grandmother,” he cried. “Self-righteous and stubborn. You won’t be happy until I’m dead!”
He surged into the hallway and scurried toward the stairs, clinging to the wall all the way like a mouse running along the baseboard. He grasped the handrail and hurried down, disappearing from view.
Allison turned away, shaken and breathless. The door to the apartment was open. Nick and his father stood there, staring. Behind them she caught a glimpse of the painting crew, looking shocked. Obviously they had all overheard. As piercing as Ralph’s voice had been, the whole upstairs had probably heard.
Nick took a few steps toward her. “Is everything okay?”
She threw out her hands, palms up. “Ralph’s afraid. He wants out of his lease.”
“He really has the wind up.” Nick, crossing the short distance between them, shook his head. “Ralph has always been the nervy sort, but I’ve never seen him like this.”
“I’m sorry for him, but I can’t just agree to let him out of his lease, not without looking into what that will mean. I have to run this place at a profit, remember?”
He nodded. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just wondering what has him so terrified.”
“I saw that, too.” Her defensiveness slipped away. “It’s almost as if he knows why someone was in his shop and his house, but he wouldn’t admit it.”
“Too scared to.”
She could almost hear the wheels turning in Nick’s brain.
“I’ll talk to Mac about it.” With a glance back at the apartment, he lowered his voice. “Maybe a little quiet investigation of Ralph would pay off.”
* * *
ALLISON PROPPED HER ankle on to a pillow and leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. It had been a long day, and she was more than ready for it to be over.