Fatal Inheritance

by Sandra Orchard

  Clearly, from the sour look on Neil’s face, he didn’t believe prayer would make a difference, either.

  A cell phone rang, and both men reached for their hips.

  “It’s mine,” Josh said. He glanced at the screen, then caught Becki’s gaze. “Excuse me a sec.” He stepped away from them, his phone to his ear.

  “Why don’t I give you a hand with those boxes in your car?” Neil suggested.

  “I can’t believe you came all the way out here.”

  He shrugged. “What’s a three-hour drive to help a friend?”

  She winced, certain his emphasis on friend was a dig to her “colleague” reference. “Last time we talked you told me I was crazy to want to move here.”

  “Still think so. Figured I’d come see what the attraction was.” His gaze strayed to Josh, and he snorted. “I talked to Peters. He’s going to fill your job with a temp for a few months. Give you a chance to decide if this is really what you want.”

  “I’ve already made my decision.” She fisted her hands. This was the kind of I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude that had made her break up with him in the first place. He was more controlling than her mother.

  “Don’t be mad.” He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “You know you don’t belong here.”

  She jerked away from his touch and stalked to her car.

  “Rebecca.” He trailed after her. “I was just trying to help. Country living may not be as great as you remember.”

  She opened the back door of her car, tugged out a box and plopped it into his arms. “I appreciate that. Really I do.” She grabbed another box and led the way to the front door. “But you shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “You’re still mad at me because I didn’t make it to your grandparents’ funeral, aren’t you?”

  “What? No!” She shifted her box onto one hip and shoved her key into the door lock. “I never expected you to.”

  “I should have been there for you.” He covered her hand and turned the key, pushing open the door.

  She snatched her hand back and plowed past him into the house. She set the box on the old deacon’s bench in the front hall, averse to inviting Neil any farther.

  “Hey, no matter what else happens, we are friends. Right?”

  She stared at him, a tad uneasy about what exactly that meant to him.

  “Where do you want these?” Josh’s voice drifted through the door, wrapping around her ragged nerves like a soothing hug. He held a stack of boxes in his arms.

  She rushed forward and grabbed the one teetering from the top. “The living room is fine. Thanks.”

  “This, too?” Neil asked.

  “No. It can stay here. Could you grab the boxes from the trunk next?”

  The instant Neil went back outside, Josh stepped up behind her. “Do you mind if I do a quick walk-through? Make sure everything’s okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Her words came out breathlessly. From the possibility that the prowler had been inside, she told herself, not from Josh’s proximity.

  Becki hurried out after Neil, before he got too curious. One time she’d caught him peeking in her desk drawers while he waited for her to finish getting ready for a date. He’d said he’d been looking for scissors to clip off a loose thread, and maybe he had been, but he had no sense of boundaries. Clearly.

  If he did, he wouldn’t be there.

  It was one thing to stop by her desk and chat for a few minutes every day. It was entirely another to drive three hours to do it.

  She’d appreciated that he had the self-confidence not to let their breakup ruin their working relationship. And okay, it had been really thoughtful of him to bring over supper and flowers from everyone at the office after she’d gotten word about her grandparents’ deaths and left work so suddenly.

  But now that their professional relationship had ended, she really didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

  “What does your neighbor do for a living?” Neil asked, passing her with an armload stacked even higher than Josh’s had been.

  She grabbed the top two boxes. “He’s a police officer.”

  Neil gave a start. “That’s handy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you have any trouble.”

  She pressed her lips closed, loath to admit she’d already had some. That was just the kind of thing Neil would latch onto to try to change her mind about moving here. He and her sister should start a club.

  Josh met them at the door. He waited for Neil to pass by, then pulled her aside. “I need to go. They’ve found a submerged car in the old quarry and need a diver to check for...anything suspicious.”

  She gasped, certain he’d been about to say bodies. “I didn’t realize you were a diver.”

  “Trained in the military.” His eyes were shadowed. “Will you be okay?”

  “Of course. Go.”

  “There’s no sign your prowler got into the house, and I don’t think he’ll come around in daylight, especially with a couple of cars in the driveway. But if you see anything suspicious, don’t hesitate to call me. Okay?” He pressed a business card into her hand with a number scrawled on the back. “That’s my cell number.”

  For some reason Josh’s protective concern didn’t feel so condescendingly suffocating as Neil’s always had. Maybe because the concern didn’t seem so irrational coming from a cop. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He lifted a hand to Neil, who’d stepped back into the foyer from wherever his curiosity had taken him while she’d been distracted by Josh. “Nice meeting you, Neil. See you around.”

  Neil sidled up to her as she watched Josh jog across the driveway back to his house. “He sounds worried about you. Not on my account, I hope.”

  She let out a puff of air—half cough, half snort. “Uh, no.”

  “Then why?”

  “It was a little unsettling being back here for the first time with Gran and Gramps gone,” she said evasively.

  “I’d be happy to stick around for a while. Keep you company.”

  “Actually, I’d rather be alone right now.” She tilted her head and added softly, “You understand?”

  He clasped her upper arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course. Let me just grab the housewarming gift I brought you.”

  She stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her waist, feeling like an ingrate, as he hurried to his flashy Mustang. He’d driven all this way to extend his help and friendship. The least she could do was offer him a cup of coffee before he left.

  He opened his door and pulled out a hanging basket overflowing with fuchsia-colored dianthus. He strode toward her with a wide grin. “Do you like them?”

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

  “I remembered you telling me how your gran used to have them hanging from the beams of the wraparound porch.”

  “You remembered that?” He’d never seemed to be listening.

  “Of course.” He patted the rails. “It’s just like you described.” He reached over her head and looped the basket onto a hook in the beam. “There.”

  “Would you like a glass of lemonade before you leave?” she blurted on impulse. Lemonade at least would be quicker than coffee. Gran always had a mix in the cupboard.

  “That’s okay. I know you have a lot to do. I just wanted to make sure you got here all right. And let you know that if you change your mind about staying...”

  “I won’t.”

  His eyes flicked around the yard, to the fields surrounding the two houses and to the thick stand of trees beyond. “It doesn’t scare you to be out the back of nowhere? With next to no neighbors?”

  “I won’t change my mind,” she said more adamantly.

  He held
his hands up in surrender. “Okay. I’m just saying if you did, no one would blame you. Not with who knows what kind of wild animals stalking those woods. Or creeps prowling for easy prey.”

  THREE

  Josh shone his waterproof flashlight in, under and around the submerged car, fanned the search out another ten yards in every direction, then kicked to the surface. Hailing the officer in charge of the recovery, Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “It’s clear.”

  “Good.” Walt passed Josh the tow cable. “Hook her up. Then check the rest of the pit.”

  Josh reinserted his mouthpiece, then dived to the bottom with the cable and secured the towline to the car’s frame. It’d take him another hour at least to thoroughly search every corner of the former quarry. Most of it was under eight feet or less of water, but one of the guys had said it got as deep as forty in the northeast corner. He kicked out of the way of the vehicle and surfaced long enough to signal it was okay to start towing.

  He didn’t want to spend any more time out here than he had to. He couldn’t get that Neil guy off his mind. Bec hadn’t seemed all that comfortable with him, and Neil clearly hadn’t been deterred.

  Josh didn’t like how fidgety the guy had made her. Thanks to her prowler, she’d been jittery enough already. She didn’t need an unwelcome wannabe boyfriend insinuating himself into the situation. And any guy who traveled this far just to check up on her had to have been more than a colleague, or wanted to be.

  Josh clawed through the water, scoping every rock crevice. Had he been too quick to take Bec’s word that she was okay being left alone with Neil?

  He was taking way too much interest in Bec’s affairs. A carp jutted from behind the rock ahead of Josh, stirring up a cloud of silt. He treaded in one spot, waiting for the water to clear. At least he’d had the decency to let a woman go without argument when she turned him down. Maybe he should have run a background check on Neil, made sure the guy wasn’t some sort of stalker.

  He hadn’t missed Neil’s You know you don’t belong here, which sounded too much like the note that had been waiting for Bec in her mailbox when she’d arrived.

  Josh dived back under, swimming faster than ever. Broken beer bottles littered the bottom of the pit. The area had been a popular hangout for teens for as long as he could remember. Surprising there wasn’t more graffiti on the rocks than the occasional heart framing lovers’ initials.

  His thoughts slipped back to Bec, or more precisely the strange feeling that had come over him when she’d given him that impulsive hug. It reminded him of the time she’d thanked him for rescuing her from the tree she’d gotten herself stuck in as a kid. Only, when he’d folded his arms around her, it hadn’t felt the same at all. He probably should be relieved Neil had shown up when he had.

  If she knew how he’d failed her grandparents, she wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. She was too vulnerable right now, between coping with her loss and starting over in a new town, a new job. Moving into the house. And now this prowler. Josh needed to focus on keeping her safe. Not on how wonderful it had felt to hold a woman in his arms.

  He gave a hard kick and propelled himself into the deeper water. A woman in his arms... He knew better than to let his thoughts wander into that territory. He supposed helping his old high-school pal bring in his hay yesterday had started it.

  His friend’s wife and young son had brought a picnic lunch to the field for them, the boy squealing with delight when Josh’s friend tickled his sides as the wife looked on with a contented expression.

  It was the kind of life Josh had always longed for.

  He sliced his arms through the water, relying more heavily on the narrow beam of his flashlight as he pushed deeper. The same as he’d learned to do with God. The Lord had blessed him with a country home, a good job and plenty of friends, and had even brought his sister back to Serenity.

  Wishing for more only led to a whole well of hurt.

  Neil, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be getting that message.

  The vibration of the winding tow cable rippled through the water.

  Josh beefed up his strokes. The sooner he covered the search area, the sooner he could get home.

  A shadow fell over the water ahead of him. Glancing up, he spotted a signal buoy. He kicked to the surface.

  “Over here,” Walt shouted from a new position onshore.

  Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “What’s up?”

  “You wanted me to let you know if your cell phone rang.”

  His pulse jerked. Bec? “What’s the caller ID?”

  “Hunter Madison.”

  Josh’s heart settled back into a steady rhythm. “Okay, let it go to voice mail. I’ll call him when I’m finished.” Hunter probably just wanted to check on where to put the cameras.

  Josh dived back under and swept his light in widening arcs. The fish had gone into hiding. Hopefully, Bec’s prowler wouldn’t do the same. The last thing Bec needed was weeks of worrying if and when the intruder would show up again.

  He winged a prayer skyward that God would help him catch the guy quickly.

  The water was crystal clear, tinted a nice aquamarine, thanks to the limestone. Maybe he’d bring Bec here sometime with the dog. She might get a kick out of hunting for fossils in the rocks. It’d help take her mind off her troubles for a while. That and going out in her grandfather’s old Cadillac.

  Her eyes had lit up at the prospect, and he couldn’t deny he was more than happy to fulfill that particular wish.

  Overhead, the water grew choppy from the car breaking the surface.

  Josh waited for the tow truck to haul the car out onto the flat rock overlooking the mini-lake and then did a final sweep of the area, his thoughts already back at the farm.

  Finding nothing, he kicked to the surface and climbed out.

  Walt handed him a towel. “There’s nothing suspicious in the car. What do you make of it?”

  Josh yanked off his regulator and mask and dragged his mind back to the investigation. “There’s no body. Kids likely stole the car for a joyride, then ditched the evidence.” More likely kids in this case than the incident in Bec’s barn...unfortunately.

  “Kids don’t usually think to pull plates.”

  “True. Could’ve been used in a crime, then dumped.” Josh scrubbed his hair dry with the towel. “Get any hits with the car’s make and model?”

  “Nope, not within Niagara anyway. No unrecovered Plymouths of any model reported stolen in the last two years.”

  “So not insurance fraud.”

  Walt shrugged. “Could be from another region.”

  “That car hasn’t been down there more than a week.” Josh walked around the car and then, stepping back, studied the distinctive rear taillights.

  “You recognize something?” Walt asked.

  “Yeah.” Josh clenched the towel in his fist. “I think it’s the same car I saw pull out of a farmer’s field near my place last night...around the same time my new neighbor was attacked by a prowler.”

  * * *

  Becki headed to the car to grab the last of her boxes and froze. A stone’s throw away, a black SUV idled in Josh’s driveway. The dark-haired guy behind the wheel squinted at her, then turned off his engine.

  Her breath caught. Was he the prowler?

  She glanced around. Where was Tripod?

  The SUV’s door opened, and the guy’s enormous boots hit the gravel with a thud. Boots that could dispense with Josh’s three-legged dog in one swift kick.

  The guy peeled off a jacket and slapped a ball cap on his head, exposing tattooed, steely arms. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days. Army-olive fatigues completed the impression of a mercenary looking for action. The guy reached behind his seat.

  Josh’s words blasted
through her mind. Some guys would just as soon shoot a witness as run away.

  Becki whirled on her heel and ran for the house.

  “Hey, hold up there. Are you Bec?”

  Bec? She stopped two yards from the door. Josh was the only one who called her that. This had to be the friend he’d called about borrowing the cameras. She turned slowly and backed up another couple of steps just to be safe. “Who wants to know?”

  A friendly grin—not in the least bit mercenary—dented his cheeks. “I’m Hunter.” He lifted his hand. A couple of drab-colored boxes dangled from his fingertips. “Josh asked me to hang these up for you.”

  “Thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat and added, “I appreciate that. Follow me, and I’ll show—”

  A sporty green car turned into her driveway.

  “Oh.” She looked from the car to the barn.

  “You see to your visitor,” Hunter said. “I can find my way.” He tipped his hat and devoured the distance to the barn in powerful strides.

  Able to breathe again, she reasoned that if Josh trusted the guy, she could, too. But the message wasn’t getting to her pounding heart. She turned to the approaching car. The place was starting to feel like Grand Central Station. She didn’t recognize the middle-aged man behind the wheel, but he looked a whole lot safer than Rambo.

  He parked behind her car and lowered his window. “You Graw’s granddaughter?”

  “Yes. May I help you?”

  The man stepped out of his car. Unlike Rambo, he was dressed conservatively, with his hair neatly cut, and clean-shaven. Empathy shone from his eyes when he extended his hand. “Name’s Henry Smith. Remember we talked on the phone a few days back?”

  “Oh, yes. You’re the friend of my grandfather’s.” On the phone, he’d sounded closer to Gramps’s age.

  He cupped her hand between his. “I wanted to drop by to give my condolences. Your grandfather was a dear friend.”