A Need to Protect

by Diane Benefiel

  Still simmering, she looked around the room again. “I guess I need to go through this mess.”

  Her gaze caught on some broken glass and she hurried across the room to where the old army surplus desk stood amidst the debris. She reached out her hand and Brad called out a sharp, “Don’t touch anything!” She let out a sigh and dropped to her knees.

  On the floor and under a broken frame, the photograph was torn in two and the half with her face on it ripped into tiny shreds. “Why would he destroy that picture? It was my favorite.” She picked up the half showing a smiling Walt. “Grandpa looked so happy.”

  Warren paused, department camera in his hands. “Some folks are just mean that way, Emma. Your gramps had that picture on his desk long as I can remember. It’s a shame.”

  Brad crossed over to where Emma knelt. “That photo sure grabbed me when I first saw it. Those eyes of yours can bring a man to his knees.”

  Emma looked up at him, surprised. His grin flashed. “Yep, your grandfather showed it to me and every time I came by I had a look at Walt’s granddaughter.”

  Suspicious, she said, “So that night I first got here, you recognized me? And still you frisked me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pervert,” she muttered, startling a laugh out of him.

  His face sobered and he went down on one knee beside her. “Emmaline, ripping your picture like that is personal. Leaving your grandfather’s half of the photo undamaged but shredding yours means the focus is on you.”

  “Well, that makes sense. Gramps isn’t here anymore, and I’m the one who refuses to sell. Singleton wants to scare me away.”

  Warren left the cabin and Brad pulled Emma to her feet. “When he’s done with the dusting kit I’ll help you clean up this mess. Then you’re coming with me. You can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the sofa; I don’t want you here by yourself until we figure out who’s responsible.”

  Emma was already shaking her head even before he finished. “No. Dory and Adrian can’t be here alone.”

  Brad nodded. “You’re right; they can stay with her parents.”

  Emma looked at him calmly. “No, Brad. I’m not letting him drive me away. Dory and Adrian can certainly stay with her parents but I won’t budge.”

  He gave her a frustrated look, then shrugged. “I’ll sleep here, then.”

  “Think again, Ace,” she growled. “I have one bed and no sofa and right now I’m not sharing.”

  “Not that I wouldn’t mind sharing, but I can sleep in one of the other cabins. I would be able to keep an eye on you, and Dory if she stays. And you could make me breakfast.”

  Emma knew she’d be stupid to turn down the offer of protection from the chief of police. But it wasn’t the chief of police part that bothered her. Bradley Gallagher without the badge was potent enough, but add the authority that came with his position and he was lethal. She didn’t know if she could deal with seeing him any more frequently when she had resigned herself to not seeing him at all.

  A movement caught Emma’s attention. Dory stood at the door, hand tight on Adrian’s shoulder. The little boy’s eyes grew wide as he looked around the room.

  “What’s going on?” Emma could hear the tension in Dory’s voice.

  “Someone broke in while we were at the picnic,” she said. “They trashed the office.”

  “Singleton?” Dory directed her question at Brad.

  “I’ll find out,” he said resolutely.

  Emma saw determination in the set lines of his face and didn’t envy anyone who became the focus behind that statement.

  Dory nodded in acceptance. “I’ll help you straighten up in here, Emma,” she offered.

  She shook her head. “Adrian looks beat. I can clean this up.” Her gaze shifted between Adrian and his mother. “You may want to stay with your parents for a few days. Until things settle down here.” Emma didn’t want to alarm the boy so she chose her words carefully.

  “No. We’re staying. This is our home now, and we won’t give up so easily.” The strength and pride Dory had been steadily building since she’d left the abusive Rodrigo were evident.

  Brad shook his head as if realizing the futility of getting a couple of women to do something they didn’t want to do.

  Emma said firmly, “It looks like my friend and I are staying put.”

  Brad laughed briefly. “Yeah, I can see that. I’ll get my gear since I’ll be bunking here tonight.”

  The next morning Emma stepped out onto her porch with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. Since her arrival in the mountains she’d grown to love this time of day. With the sky glowing pearly silver in the east, birds began to stir in the morning stillness. A car made a whooshing noise as it drove by on the highway, probably a fisherman on his way to one of the lakes higher in the mountains.

  The sound of a screen door closing came from Badger cabin, followed by the crunch of gravel. Brad walked over to climb the steps to her porch. She swallowed the last of her toast with a sip of coffee. He stopped on the step below where she leaned against a post.

  “Hello, beautiful.” His voice held the gruffness of early morning. He reached forward and took the mug from her hand, drank deep, then set it on the rail. “How about a good-morning kiss?”

  “Is that why you moved into my cabin? To get good-morning kisses?”

  “You bet.”

  Emma reached up to run a finger across the dark stubble on his jaw. “Hmm,” she murmured as if to gauge whether he was suitable to kiss.

  “Forgot my razor. You can kiss me anyway.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself, pal. Maybe I don’t want to kiss a guy with morning stubble. I’ll lend you my razor.”

  “Is it pink? I can’t shave with a pink razor. Come on, give us a kiss.”

  He was adorable and Emma couldn’t resist. Being a step lower on the porch put him exactly at lip level. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his.

  When she tried to straighten warm hands settled on her hips. “Uh-uh. There wasn’t enough good morning in that kiss. You can do better.”

  The challenge was evident in the dark glitter of his eyes. She smiled slyly. “You think?” With that she leaned fully into him until they were touching from knees to lips. He kept his hands on her hips but she could feel his grip tighten convulsively. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers combing through thick hair still damp from his shower. His lips opened and she felt the long liquid pull of heat when his tongue skimmed against hers. He tasted of coffee and a hint of mint toothpaste.

  She pulled back to smile at him. “Good morning, handsome.”

  Something shifted in his eyes, and what had started as playful turned intense. “Emmaline.”

  Her hands gripped his shoulders and she eased back farther, a bit baffled by his change in mood. “Bradley.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss against her palm with his eyes intent on hers stoked the fire low in her belly.

  “Emmaline, we need to talk.”

  “I know.” She shifted uneasily. “I think—”

  She broke off at the sound of a car pulling onto the driveway. Emma pulled back from Brad’s hold when a late-model Porsche SUV pulled into the parking area. Marla Banks stepped out, looking overdressed in an ivory pantsuit amid the grass and pinecones.

  She walked toward them, and Emma wondered why she bothered with the city look while living in a mountain environment that catered to outdoors activities. “Brad, I see you’re here early.” Marla took in their closeness with an angry gleam in her eyes. She was obviously unhappy to find Brad on Emma’s front steps. “It’s nice to see you take your duties so seriously.”

  “Marla.” He acknowledged her with a nod of his head.

  With Brad obviously unwilling to make small talk, the mayor turned her attention to Emma. She was suddenly glad she’d put on a trim jacket earlier rather than her usual bulky sweatshirt. Not that it mattered.
This woman always made her feel drab and gauche. She needed to remember that Brad had asked her for good morning kisses, not Marla Banks.

  “I heard there was a break-in here yesterday afternoon. Was anything stolen?”

  “Not that I could tell,” Emma responded. “The office was trashed, so if they took papers or documents, I likely wouldn’t know those are missing.”

  “Are you investigating, Bradley?”

  “Of course I’m investigating.” Brad gave her a long look. “But it’s an assumption that the break-in happened in the afternoon. We don’t know when it happened. Emma and Dory left early yesterday to help prepare for the picnic so it could have happened any time after they left.” Brad looked thoughtful while he studied the mayor but didn’t comment further.

  “You’ve had a rough time since you got here, Ms. Kincaid. I’m worried about your safety.”

  Marla obviously didn’t like her and Emma wondered why she’d bothered with the concerned act. Maybe she thought it was her job as mayor to support citizens who’d been victims of crime. But when the woman’s gaze locked on Brad, the reason became apparent. There was possessiveness in that look, a hunger that seemed predatory. She had the hots for Brad and wanted to get him away from Emma.

  Marla turned her attention to Emma. “I know this place has sentimental value for you, but are you aware that at one point your grandfather had agreed to sell it?”

  She must have looked surprised because Marla’s expression turned smug. “Oh yes, it’s true. It was about a year and a half ago. We had lunch over at the diner and I promised to represent him in negotiations with the developers. He said he needed the money for his daughter’s medical expenses.”

  Emma considered the idea and figured Marla just might be telling the truth. “That’s when we were having trouble paying Mom’s bills. I didn’t know he’d thought of selling.” Throughout her mother’s cancer treatment she’d talked frequently with her grandfather and he must have been concerned about the bills. In the end the insurance company had come through and Trudy’s bills had been paid, but Walt must have been making provisions in case they became necessary.

  “Walt even signed some papers but at the last minute backed out. I think if he hadn’t gotten sick himself he would have gone through with it. He realized these little cabins would be an anchor around your neck.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Brad climbed a step to stand next to Emma. “I think Walt wanted to pass this place on to Emmaline. He knew she loved it here.”

  In those conversations with her grandfather, they had talked of perhaps, when Trudy was better, Emma coming to spend time with Walt. Then he’d gotten sick, Trudy’s condition had worsened, and within a few short months they were both gone. “Regardless,” Emma said, “my grandfather didn’t sell, and I’m here to stay.”

  Chapter Ten

  Using a putty knife, Emma pried at the linoleum covering the check-in counter. Maybe whoever had hacked at it had done her a favor. It looked dated and replacing it, especially with a lighter color, would freshen the room. That’s looking at the bright side, she thought grimly. Anything to tamp down on the anger, the fear, brought by the attack.

  She looked out her screen door open to the balmy afternoon. A police cruiser traveled slowly up her driveway. Emma stepped out onto the porch to wave. Monica raised her hand in response, then circled the parking area and headed back to the highway. Where a few short weeks ago police anywhere near her would have kicked in her fight-or-flight reflex; now they made her feel safe. Maybe she was finally dealing with her issues.

  She pulled off the last of the linoleum to reveal the base of plywood. While it had dents from the hatchet, when it was re-covered it would be fine. Hauling the trash out onto the porch, she heard another vehicle approach. She recognized this car and straightened, body rigid as the driver stepped out of his car.

  “You can get back in that car and leave before I call the police.”

  Frank Singleton hesitated, the folksy, good-ole-boy mannerisms of their previous meeting absent when he spoke. “Ms. Kincaid, I’d like to have a word with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind. Now get off my property.”

  He gazed at her intently, face flushed. “I’d like to say my piece, and then I’ll leave.”

  His sport coat looked wrinkled and Emma noticed he’d given up the wingtips in favor of more casual shoes. When he took a step toward her she held up a hand. “You can say your piece from where you’re standing. Don’t come any closer.”

  He gave a jerky nod. “Well, the thing is, I’ve already seen the police once today. Chief Gallagher came by my motel room this morning. Said he wanted to have a little talk.” He shot her an uneasy glance. “He’s one tough hombre, if you know what I mean. You think he’s all calm, but I wouldn’t want to see him when he lets loose.”

  “Your point, Mr. Singleton?” Emma asked sharply.

  “My point is that I didn’t do it. I don’t mind being aggressive when I want a property. That’s part of my job. But no way would I mess up somebody’s place. Or burn it.” He pulled out his handkerchief to mop his forehead before stuffing it back in his pocket.

  When Emma didn’t respond he shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted you to know it wasn’t me. That’s not how I operate.”

  He looked shaken, but Emma couldn’t drum up much sympathy. He’d been so obnoxious the first time he’d approached her, but his current demeanor made her hesitate. When he stepped back toward his car, Emma stopped him. “If it wasn’t you, then who? Your company has been very insistent about acquiring my property.”

  “We would like to buy it, no doubt about that. But we’ll go after it legal.” Something about him struck her as sincere, and while Emma wouldn’t trust him to guard a pile of dirt, for the first time she doubted her conviction that he was behind the vandalism, and perhaps the arson, on her property.

  He gave her a shrewd look. “You know it’s not only the developer who stands to make money if this plan goes through. There are a lot of folks in this little town who stay quiet, but they sit on chunks of property that would skyrocket in value if the development gets approved.”

  At Emma’s thoughtful expression, he said “Think about it. Sorry for your trouble, Ms. Kincaid.”

  Later that afternoon, Emma and Dory sat in the office debating color schemes. Emma had decided new linoleum deserved new paint and curtains. While Dory favored golds and tans, Emma liked the clean, bright feel of white contrasted with a warmer tone. They were comparing color palettes on her laptop when Emma’s cell phone rang.

  She recognized the voice and it brought with it a flood of memories. In an instant she was pulled from her sunny cabin back into the blackest time in her life. Images from the past flashed through her head and had her swallowing against rising nausea. A patrol car, unlit warehouse buildings at night, a hoarse voice and groping hands. She’d left behind the darkness, the despair, but once again felt them snapping at her heels. She stepped out onto the porch and gripped the phone tighter. “Yeah, I hear you. I’m fine.” She listened for several minutes, then tensed. “When?” After a pause, she said, “I’ll be there. Thanks, Rob,” and hung up.

  She swung blindly toward the door and almost ran into Dory before she saw her. “I’ve got to go.” She swallowed convulsively. “I have to go away for a couple of days.”

  Dory didn’t move. “Whoa, calm down, Emma. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I can’t. I have to go.”

  When Dory didn’t budge, Emma growled in frustration. “Listen, I can’t tell you what it’s about but I’ve got to leave. You should go stay with your parents. Tell Brad for me, would you?”

  “Oh, no. That’s not going to happen.” Disapproval laced her tone. “You can’t disappear and expect me to tell Brad. You tell him yourself. He deserves that much from you.”

  Pushing past her, Emma stormed into her bedroom, grabbed a duffel, and began pulling clothes out of her closet. Off the hangar came one of
the few business-type outfits she’d kept. She’d worn it while working at the insurance company and it would do for this, for making her past stay in the past. She folded the skirt and blazer and placed them in the bottom of the bag, then moved to the small dresser and took out nylons and underwear. Shoes from her closet went in next and then she hurried past where Dory stood in the hall, arms folded across her chest, to grab toiletries from the bathroom.

  “Wait.” When Emma continued to ignore her Dory marched to stand square in front of her, taking her by the shoulders. “Emma, I said wait. Tell me what this is about. Are you in danger?”

  “I’m not in danger, but I can’t tell you. Not now.” Emma took a deep breath. It felt like the first she’d taken since the phone call.

  “Yes, you can. Who is Rob?”

  Emma shook her head, backing away. Dory hissed in frustration, then turned and stalked out of the cabin.

  When she finished packing, Emma zipped the bag and hauled it onto the porch. Seeing Dory leaning against the rail, Emma finally stopped, shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry, Dory. I should be back by tomorrow evening, or the day after at the latest.”

  “You know there’s not one thing you can’t tell me, Emma. I’m worried about you. Any of your friends here would help you if you need it.”

  Emma saw the hurt behind the troubled eyes. “I know. I’m sorry but I can’t right now. I have to go.”

  She lugged the bag to her car and stowed it in the back before getting in. She pulled out onto the dirt drive, then skidded to a halt when the big police SUV roared up and angled to block the road. With a sinking sensation she realized Dory must have called Brad while she’d been packing.

  He got out, slamming his door. He wore jeans with a black T-shirt and a forbidding expression. The badge and gun on his belt only added to Emma’s sense that he was dangerous. She’d always figured if the situation warranted, the calm he habitually exuded would be tested. Emotions he kept tightly strapped down were breaking free of their restraints. He stalked to where she’d stopped her car and pulled open the door. Having only a moment to wish she’d thought to lock it, he reached in and pulled her keys out of the ignition and set the parking brake with a sharp tug. Emma felt her nerves jitter. He appeared on the edge of control, as if the smallest spark would set off a volatile explosion.