He lowered his head, raking both hands through his hair. When he looked up again, his expression was impatient. 'Look, you know I was in a flaming temper when I threatened to break your arm. It was an… act of passion. But, damn it, Merle, there's a bloody big difference between that and a shooting done in cold blood.'
'And all the other things, I suppose they were "acts of passion"?'
'I'll admit I've tried to get you off the well, but most of the things I've done have been… practical jokes, not things that could hurt you. I never expected you to stay out all night when I poured the oil in the mud pit.' He smiled faintly at the memory and Merle's blood pressure rose.
'The harassment from your workers, the snide remarks, the crude passes every time I go into the truckstop, those are practical jokes? You have a very bizarre sense of humour, Leon.'
'You brought that on yourself, Merle,' Leon said harshly. 'I told you what Larson had said about you at the site. I can't be blamed if my men see you as easy game.'
Merle glared at him, her lips pressed into a tight line. She couldn't find an answer for this so she said, defensively, 'And is my truck easy game, too?'
'Your truck?'
'Are you denying your men have been vandalising it on your orders?'
'Nobody touched your truck, Merle,' Leon denied, impatiently. 'My orders to the men were to leave you alone as long as you stayed up on the hill. If you started moving in closer, they were to let me know.'
'So it was just a coincidence that all the tyres went flat at once,' she stated acidly. 'And I imagine my camping equipment just hopped out of the back of it and threw itself all over the countryside.'
'That happened?' His brows drew together into a line.
'Yes. And one day, they stole the rotor from the distributor,' she added.
'I'll have a talk with the crew. Those were not my orders, Merle, and if any of them are responsible, I'll deal with them.' He looked at his watch. 'The police will be here shortly. You had better get dressed, they want you to show them where the shooting took place.'
'Now, Miss, you said you were here when you first realised someone was shooting at you. Is that correct?'
Merle looked at the young corporal impatiently. Was the man a complete idiot? How many times did she have to tell him what happened? She glanced over at Leon. She had been rather surprised that he had come with them, following behind the police car in his Blazer. She hoped that meant they wouldn't start doing the drill stem test at the site until he could be there.
'Yes, I was about here.'
'And you didn't hear the shots?'
Merle shook her head. 'I told you, I was walking back to my truck when I saw the sand lift over there.' She pointed to a spot about ten feet in front of her where a second officer was using a shovel trying to find the bullet. 'I didn't know what it was, so I stopped. The second bullet hit that bush behind me and that's when I realised someone was shooting at me, so I dove the for ground. As I was going down, a bullet hit a rock over there and a fragment hit me in the cheek.' She automatically touched the plaster on her face, her eyes seeking Leon. She wished she could understand him. It seemed so strange that he should have helped her last night and this morning when it was apparent that he was still angry with her.
'It's strange you didn't hear the shots,' the officer commented.
'I had a lot on my mind, so I guess that's why I didn't hear them.'
He looked at her doubtfully, then shrugged. These oil scouts were a damned nuisance and it wouldn't bother him if they shot the lot of them. Twice in the last year he had been called out in the middle of the night to investigate break-ins at drilling sites. He knew scouts were responsible, but the culprits had been too clever to get caught.
'Well, Miss, I'll talk to the ranchers in the area and see if they saw anyone. It was probably a hunter. The light is pretty uncertain at that time of day and some of them will shoot at anything that moves.'
'Do you think you'll find out who did it?' Leon spoke for the first time since they had come out here.
'Probably not,' the corporal admitted. 'If it was a hunter, he would have been shooting out of season and isn't likely to come forward.'
The second officer came over to them and handed the corporal the spent bullet he had retrieved from the sand. From the expression in his face as he studied it, Merle got the impression that until now he hadn't even believed she had been shot at.
'Couldn't you locate the gun from that bullet?' Leon asked.
The officer laughed. 'You watch too much television. This is from a 30-30. Do you have any idea how many rifles of that gauge are in this country? Every rancher between Medicine Hat and Calgary probably owns at least one. And then you have all the hunters who live in town and just hunt on the weekends. You'd never locate the gun that this was fired from if you looked for a year.'
'So that's it?' Leon asked, disbelieving. 'You're just going to forget it?'
'I said we'll ask around. There's not much else we can do.' He turned to Merle. 'We'll drive you back to the motel now, Miss.'
'I'll take Miss Halliday back,' Leon interposed firmly.
The corporal looked at her and Merle shrugged. He motioned to the other officer and they walked away to their car.
Merle waited until the police car had driven off before turning her attention to Leon. He was staring at the spot where the officer had found the bullet, a brooding expression on his face. Finally, he looked over to her and motioned her to accompany him down the hill.
'Merle,' Leon said as they were walking to his Blazer, 'I want you to stay away from the hill for a while.'
'Why?' She stopped, turning to look at him, her expression faintly defiant.
'At least give the police a few days to see if they can find out who did the shooting.'
'You heard what they said. It was a hunter; they'll probably never find out who shot at me.'
She started to move on and he stopped her by placing his hand on her arm. 'Don't you think it's odd that you didn't hear the shots?'
'No, I don't. I told you, I had a lot on my mind at the time.' Like you, she added silently.
'Maybe that would explain why you didn't hear the first shot, but what about the others? Why didn't you hear those? Merle, you're an oil scout, you can't have been that unobservant.'
'Well, I guess I wasn't being very observant last night, was I?'
'Or, whoever did it used a silencer.'
She gave him a derisory look. 'The officer was right, Leon. You do watch too much television.' She wished he would shut up. The explanation that the shots were from a careless hunter suited her fine. She didn't want to consider any other possibilities, they would only make her nervous about coming back out to the hill.
'Merle, it wouldn't hurt to be a little cautious over the next few days. Take some time off, enjoy the last of the good summer weather. At least, give them a chance to check things out, okay?'
'It wouldn't hurt, Leon?' Merle asked archly. 'Look, I know you're doing a drill stem test sometime today. Is all this talk a delaying tactic so I miss it?'
He gave her an exasperated look and she walked on. She climbed in the passenger door of the Blazer and settled back in the seat, her arms crossed, to wait for him. He joined her in a moment, though he didn't start the truck. Instead, he turned in his seat and studied her. 'Okay, Merle. You win this round. If you know there's a test, you must know it will take us a few days to decide whether we're going on or whether we'll settle for a gas well. Will you promise me that you'll stay off the hill until the police have a chance to finish their investigation, if I promise to let you know which way we're going to go as soon as it's decided?'
She cast him a suspicious look. 'How do I know you're not trying to trick me, again?'
'You don't,' Leon said tiredly. 'But I don't break my word, and I don't want you up on that hill by yourself until this is cleared up.'
Merle stared at him thoughtfully, biting her lower lip in indecision. Leon acted as if he re
ally were worried about her. But it had to have been an accident. Nobody would shoot at her deliberately, unless it was to stop her scouting the well, and she had to admit, she did believe him when he said he had nothing to do with it.
'Come on, Merle. Think of it as a little holiday,' Leon persisted.
'I must be an absolute fool to trust you,' Merle said, disgustedly, turning to look out the window.
'But you promise?'
'I promise,' she muttered.
In the truckstop that evening, Merle toyed with her lettuce, covertly watching the man seated across from her. She wondered why he had offered to eat with her if he wasn't even going to talk to her. After last night and this morning, she thought maybe he had got over being angry with her, but obviously he hadn't.
Leon finished his own salad, and pushing aside the empty plate, sat back to wait for the waitress to bring the main course. 'I'm heading back to Calgary in the morning,' he said. 'You might want to do the same. I can get in touch with you there if we decide to go in with the drilling.' God, his voice was cold! She almost wished he had continued with the silent treatment.
'I'll stay around the motel,' Merle replied moodily, shoving her own plate aside. She knew if she was in Calgary, she would have to check in with her boss, Frank Destry, and she didn't want to. She hadn't told Wild Rose about the gas yet, and for some reason she wanted to put it off. Besides, how could she explain the bargain she had made with Leon this morning? Frank wouldn't expect her to continue the job if she really were in danger, but he would undoubtedly agree with her and the police that the shots had come from a careless hunter.
Before Leon could comment, Sally arrived at the table with their meal. The ice left his eyes like a spring thaw in the St Lawrence as he turned his attention to the waitress.
Having delivered their plates, Sally hovered over Leon. Would he like ketchup? Was his steak rare enough? Did he want more coffee? When she finally walked off, Merle couldn't help saying, 'Why didn't you ask her to cut your meat for you? I'm sure she wouldn't have minded.'
'I'm sure she would,' Leon said coldly, his features resuming their frozen lines. 'She does her job—but she isn't obsessed by it.' He concentrated on his meal as Merle stared at him in frustration for several seconds.
Finally, she blurted out, 'Just what do you want me to do? Tear up my report for Wild Rose and forget the whole thing?'
Carefully, Leon set down his knife and fork and met her gaze. 'Since it's pretty obvious to me that that report is the most important thing in your life I could hardly expect you to destroy it. What I do want is for you to avoid getting yourself killed while scouting my well. I don't want that kind of scandal connected with a project of mine.' He picked up his silverware and resumed his meal, dismissing her.
So that's why he's so concerned about me, Merle thought, pretending an appetite for her own dinner that she didn't feel. Instead of angering her, the knowledge only added to her depression. He was the most important thing in her life, not the job or the report, but how would she ever make him understand? She had no experience at being honest with a man. Before Leon, she had considered herself something of an expert when it came to handling men. She knew how to string them along, play on their emotions, get whatever she wanted from them. She peeked at Leon through her lashes. He had seen through all the games she played—only he couldn't see that she wasn't trying to play games with him any more.
Merle remained silent through the rest of the meal, lost in thought. If Leon really was the most important thing in her life, how could she betray him and her love for him by helping his rivals? With his assertion that it was the most important thing in her life, every time she thought about handing in her report, she felt guilty. When she had asked Leon if he wanted her to tear up her report, she hadn't been serious, but she wondered if maybe that wasn't what she should do. It wouldn't change his feelings for her, but didn't she owe him a certain amount of loyalty because she loved him?
On the drive back to the motel, Merle was still preoccupied and in consequence, didn't notice they had arrived until Leon had parked the Blazer and turned off the engine.
'You've been awfully quiet.' He shifted in his seat so he could look at her. 'I hope you're not trying to figure out some way of getting out of your promise.'
'I'm not,' Merle said, then added, 'though I do think you're over-reacting.'
He let that pass, saying, instead, 'Are you sure you don't want to go back to Calgary for a few days? I'm sure your mother would like to see you if you haven't been back all summer.'
'I'm sure she would,' Merle agreed drily. 'However as I don't particularly want to see her, I'll just stay here.' She could just imagine Edith's reaction if she found out she had been shot at. It would provide one more weapon in her arsenal of reasons why Merle should quit oil scouting.
'Well, as a matter of fact, I called her last night and…'
'You did what?' Merle exclaimed, outraged.
'I said I called her,' Leon repeated firmly. 'I felt she had a right to know what had happened. She thought it would be wise for you to stay with her until the police have finished their investigation. She suggested I could give you a lift into Calgary with me tomorrow and I agreed.'
At his last sentence, Merle's anger started to slip. She had never forgotten the expression in Jack Franklin's face that night they had met her mother in the restaurant, the mixture of embarrassment and horror as her mother began prying into his life, her motive obvious. Suddenly, Merle had a picture of that awful black dog Leon had had the rancher scare her off his property with, her mother's head superimposed on its body. She could see it slowly advancing on Leon. Helpless to banish the image, Merle started to laugh.
Leon was staring at her as though she had suddenly lost her mind. 'Oh, Leon,' Merle finally managed to say. 'Did you tell her who you were?'
'Of course.'
At that, Merle laughed even harder, holding her ribs when they started to ache. Edith would be far worse with Leon than Jack because she would undoubtedly recognise his name. By now, three-quarters of Calgary would know that Merle knew the oil tycoon, Leon Crane—and if she knew anything at all about her mother, most of them would have the impression that the wedding invitations were in the mail.
Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Merle looked over to Leon. 'You have no idea what you've done, have you?' He merely frowned at her. 'My mother…' Merle started to giggle again. 'She probably booked the church on the strength of that one phone call. Unless you fancy being forced into marriage with me, I think you'd just better forget all about taking me to my mother's.'
Leon gave her the strangest look, and instantly all her amusement vanished. Hastily, Merle averted her head, reaching for the door handle. Even all her mother's machinations could never succeed in making Leon want her for his wife. How could such a feeling of desolation replace what moments ago had been laughter? She had to blink rapidly to hold back tears. Opening the door, Merle scrambled out of the Blazer. Keeping her face turned slightly away from Leon, she said, 'I'm staying at the motel. Don't worry, I won't break my promise.' Then, because she didn't want him to guess how she was feeling, she added harshly, 'And don't forget yours.' Without waiting for him to comment, she ran into the motel.
Merle sat watching the two boys who were playing in the shallow end of the pool, wishing she wasn't so bored and didn't have to work so hard at not thinking about Leon. She hadn't seen him for over a week, he hadn't even said goodbye before leaving for Calgary. She had had an uncomfortable telephone conversation with her mother the morning he left. As she had suspected, her mother wasn't the least concerned about the shooting. She was far more interested in how Merle happened to know Leon Crane and just what their relationship was. In the end, Merle had finally told her to mind her own business and had slammed down the receiver.
The children were playing with a large orange beach ball, and Merle focused her attention on them, shutting her mind to other thoughts. They were taking turns sitting on the bal
l, trying to sink it, but they were too small to have much success. Her knowledge of children wouldn't fill a decent-sized paragraph, but she thought they couldn't be more than five or six years old, even though they appeared to be good swimmers.
Finally, they combined efforts and managed to push the ball right to the bottom of the pool. When they released it, it shot out of the water and rolled a few feet from Merle. Laughing at their expressions of achievement, Merle got off her lounger and retrieved the ball for them.
'You want to come swimming with us?' the smaller of the two asked as she tossed the ball back into the water.
Merle hesitated. She hadn't had that in mind when she went after the ball. 'Please,' the other boy pleaded. 'Mom won't let us swim in the deep end without a grown-up.' He pointed to a woman sitting in a shaded lounger on the opposite side of the pool. Noticing her son's gesture, the woman struggled out of the lounger and walked over to Merle.
As she approached, Merle felt a twinge of pity for the woman. 'And I thought I was worn out after scouting all summer.' If this was what having kids did for you, Merle was glad she was never likely to become a mother. The woman couldn't have been much older than herself, yet her face was gaunt to the point of being haggard. Her complexion was pallid, her blue eyes dull and lifeless. Wisps of faded blonde hair escaped from an elastic at her nape and the cotton sundress she wore hung loosely over her frame.
'I hope they weren't bothering you,' the woman apologised.
Merle looked back at the boys. Even the woman's voice had been tired. 'Not at all. They just want me to swim with them.'
'Well, don't let them talk you into doing anything you don't want to do,' the woman warned, smiling.
A Risky Business Page 12