Safety In Numbers

by Carla Cassidy

  “Yeah, I looked it over. It looked to me like you all did everything possible to investigate the crime.”

  “We did. The town was in an uproar. She was well liked and it was such a tragedy.” He looked down at the top of his desk for a minute, then looked back at Meredith. “It’s possible whoever wrote those notes means no harm at all, but my recommendation to you is for you to be aware of your surroundings and just be careful.”

  Meredith nodded, oddly disappointed. She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Perhaps she’d hoped that Sheriff Ramsey would look at the handwritten notes and exclaim that he knew who had written them. Of course that was crazy because the block letters could have been written by anybody.

  “Well, that was a wasted effort,” she said a few minutes later as they left the office.

  “Not necessarily,” Chase replied. “Who knows what Ramsey might stumble on, now that he knows what’s going on and about the notes.”

  She started toward her car, but he grabbed her by the elbow. “Oh no, we aren’t going back to the ranch yet,” he said. “I already missed one breakfast, and part of the deal was that we’d stop in at the sheriff’s office, then have breakfast at the café.”

  She’d thought she just wanted to go home, but maybe the clatter of noise and friendly conversation in the café would take her mind off things.

  “Breakfast sounds good,” she agreed.

  As they headed across the street toward the café she once again felt as if somebody was watching her. The morning sun cast shadows between buildings and in the overhangs of storefronts, and she wondered if somebody was hiding in one of those shadows watching her progress, wanting her for some sick reason.

  She was grateful to get inside the café where the morning crowd was noisy and there were no shadows. She and Chase grabbed a booth toward the back, both of them moving to slide into the booth so they faced the door.

  He pointed her to the opposite side, as if he understood her need to face out and watch for danger. “I’m on duty. You sit and relax.”

  Relax. Would she ever be relaxed again? At the moment every muscle in her body ached with stress, every nerve ending felt as if it was exposed.

  “Talk to me, Chase,” she said after the waitress had taken their orders and they each had a cup of coffee in front of them.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Anything. Everything,” she exclaimed with a hint of desperation. “I just want you to take my mind off all of this.”

  His eyes glimmered with a touch of humor. “We could talk about sex. It’s been my experience that when it’s on my mind, I find it hard to think about much of anything else.”

  She laughed, surprised that she was still capable of amusement. “You’re such a man,” she replied.

  He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You can also take it that I don’t want to talk about sex,” she replied. She wished he’d never mentioned it, because now her head filled with memories of making love with him. “Tell me about your life in Kansas City.”

  “There’s not a lot to tell,” he replied. “I live in a ranch house that I bought two years ago, but I spend most of my time working. In the small amount of leisure time I have, I like to ride my bike and do yard work. It’s a pretty normal life.”

  “What made you decide to become a cop?”

  He leaned back in the booth, and his hand reached up to touch the faint white scar that bisected his eyebrow. “When I was sixteen I got up one morning and went to school as usual, but while I was at school I remembered that it was my dad’s payday.”

  He paused and took a drink of his coffee, and any hint of a smile that had been on his face was gone. His eyes took on a darker hue and she knew his memories were bad ones.

  “Paydays weren’t good?” she asked.

  “They were hell. It was my dad’s usual habit on paydays to stop after work at one of the local casinos. He’d drink and gamble away most of the check, then come home in the foulest mood imaginable.”

  “And you were his favorite scapegoat.”

  He smiled then, a tight expression that did nothing to lighten the darkness of his eyes. “You’ve got it. Anyway, the longer I thought about it that particular day, the sicker I got. I was tired, sick and tired of him and my life. I skipped the rest of the school day and went home. I packed a bag, took whatever cash I could find around the house, then split for good. I wasn’t going to take one more beating. I wasn’t going to listen to one more of his drunken apologies or empty promises.”

  “Where did you go?” She realized she wanted to know everything about him. She knew where he liked to be touched when making love, she knew that a kiss in the hollow of his throat made him groan.

  But she wanted to know what kind of man he was, what choices he’d had to make in his life that had formed Chase McCall.

  “My dad and I lived in St. Louis and all I knew was that I needed to get out of there. I wanted to go somewhere where he’d never find me and wouldn’t be able to force me to come back home. I had enough money for a bus ticket to Kansas City and that’s where I went.”

  Meredith tried to imagine what it had been like for a sixteen-year-old to strike out on his own for a different city, a life alone. “You must have been terrified.”

  This time his smile did reach his eyes. “Nah, I was too stupid to be terrified. Anything had to be better than the life I’d been living, even life on the streets.”

  The conversation halted as the waitress appeared with their orders. When she left again Chase continued. “Anyway, I lived on the streets for about two months, sleeping under highway overpasses, eating whatever I could scrounge. I met a lot of people, sad homeless men without hope, drug addicts without a future. I realized that if I didn’t do something positive with my life I was going to end up either dead or in jail. I got a job sweeping floors and stocking for a man who ran a little food mart. He let me sleep on a cot in the storeroom and I got my GED. Student loans and financial aid helped me get a bachelor’s degree, then I was accepted into the police academy and the rest is history.”

  “What happened to your father? Did you ever see him again?”

  “Two years ago I got word that he was ill so I went back to St. Louis to see him. He was still angry with me for abandoning him. He told me all he’d ever done was love me and I’d run out on him.” Chase shook his head and emitted a humorless laugh. “He’d either rewritten history or didn’t even remember the abuse. Anyway, he died not long after.”

  “That’s sad,” she said. She wanted to reach out and touch his hand. She wanted to pull him into her arms and somehow comfort the child he had been.

  He shrugged. “It’s the past. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you strong.”

  She wondered if perhaps he hadn’t been made too strong? He seemed to be a man who needed nobody. He’d made it clear he wasn’t willing to invite anyone into his life, into his heart for any extended period of time. Not that she cared. Not that she wanted to be in his life, she told herself.

  “Now are you ready to talk about sex?” he asked, the twinkle back in his eyes.

  She laughed and sat back in the booth and wondered when she’d begun to like this man. Certainly she had wanted him, but the warmth that flooded through her now had nothing to do with physical desire.

  It had everything to do with the fact that she liked being with him, she liked the way his brain worked and the unexpected humor that transformed his features from something slightly dangerous to something decidedly wonderful.

  “Thank you,” she said. She pushed away her empty plate.

  “For what?”

  “For making me forget for a few minutes. For letting me enjoy my breakfast without thinking about anything but you.”

  “Then we’re even because I haven’t been able to think of anything but you since last night.”

  She felt as if the confines of the café got smaller as his gaze lingered on her lips. “You’re a
dangerous man, Chase McCall,” she said softly.

  He laughed, low and deep, the sound rumbling inside her. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked.

  She nodded and together they got up from the booth. It was only as they arrived at her car and she’d checked the windshield for a note that she realized it was now a waiting game.

  Sooner or later she knew she’d get a third note. “It’s time.” She had no idea what those two words meant, but she definitely had a feeling it wasn’t good.

  Chapter 9

  Chase sat on the bench next to Sam Rhenquist and pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. Over the past two days the warm weather had fled and cold Northern air had swooped south to settle in.

  “You sit out here all year long?” Chase asked the old man.

  “Unless it’s raining,” Sam replied. “I dozed off one day last year during a snowfall. Didn’t wake up until old Mrs. Johnson came by and thought I was dead. She screamed so loud it about broke my eardrums.”

  Chase smiled and stole a glance at his watch. Meredith was having lunch with Savannah, and he’d ridden into town with her. In fact, over the past two days he’d been right at her side unless she was inside the house.

  “She won’t be out for another hour or so,” Sam said, apparently noticing the glance at the watch. “When those two women get to gabbing it’s always a two-hour lunch.”

  “Are you married, Sam?”

  “Was married for forty-two years. Abby passed away on a warm summer night. She rubbed my back until I fell asleep, then died peaceful without making a sound.”

  “Must be tough to find yourself alone after all those years,” Chase said.

  Sam smiled. “I hear her voice in my head all the time. I never think about her being gone. She’s with me all the time.” He pointed across the street to an old woman with a cane heading into the Curl Palace. “That’s old Mrs. Crondale. She lost her husband two years ago and her grief has made her one of the most miserable, bitter women in town. She gets her hair done once a week then heads to the café to get a cup of soup and under-tips the waitress.”

  Once again Chase was struck by how much the old man knew about the comings and goings of the people. “Sam, I’m going ask you straight out. You know something about the deaths of those ranchers?”

  Sam gazed across the street, his weatherworn face not changing expression. “I know a lot of things about most of the people of Cotter Creek, some things I’m sure they’d rather nobody else knew. But I don’t know who killed those men.”

  “You’re a smart man, Sam. Surely you’ve got some idea,” Chase pressed.

  Sam turned back and looked Chase square in the eyes. “I’m smart enough to know better than to talk to a man who isn’t what he’s pretending to be.”

  Surprise jolted through Chase. “What are you talking about?”

  Sam gave him a look of disgust. “You aren’t here for a little vacation. When folks get a chance to go on vacation they sure as hell don’t choose to come to Cotter Creek. Besides, you got a look about you that tells me you’re here for another reason.”

  Chase was silent for a long moment, considering his options. “I trust you, Sam. I trust you to be a man who can keep his mouth shut when it’s important. I’m FBI.”

  Sam nodded. “I figured as much.” He sat forward and reached for a cup of coffee on the ground next to the bench. The drink was in a to-go cup from the café.

  Chase hoped like hell that he hadn’t made a mistake in confiding in Sam. It wasn’t exactly a great thing to be undercover and then tell people about it. But his instincts told him he could trust the old man.

  “I saw Sheila meet with a stranger one night,” Sam said. He took a sip of his coffee, then continued. “It was right about the time that the Nesmith place was sold. I figure the man I saw her with was this Joe Black that everyone is talking about, the man who owns MoTwin.”

  Chase nodded. “We know Black came into town several times over the course of the last year to sign contracts on behalf of the MoTwin Corporation.”

  “What I never understood was what business he might have over at the newspaper office.”

  Every nerve in Chase’s body electrified. “You saw Joe Black go to the newspaper office?”

  Sam nodded. “After hours. Ray Buchannan met him at the door and they were inside together for about an hour.”

  “Have you told anyone else about this?” Chase’s mind whirled. He knew from Meredith that Raymond Buchannan had just made Savannah an offer on the paper. He had plans to get out of town. Now his retirement plans took on a different perspective.

  “I didn’t know who to tell,” Sam said. “Didn’t know who to trust and I damn sure didn’t want to be seen consorting with those suited fools you all sent to town.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.” Chase knew he needed to call the two agents as soon as possible and give them this lead. Hopefully it would result in the end of this assignment and he could leave Cotter Creek far behind.

  Or could he? Even though every day he felt the need to leave, he knew he couldn’t walk away knowing that Meredith might be in danger. There had been no more flower deliveries, no more notes, but Chase felt as if they were in a holding pattern and waiting to see what happened next.

  He glanced over to where her car was parked. There was no way she’d get a note on her windshield today without him seeing who put it there.

  Maybe there won’t be another note, he thought. Maybe whoever had sent them was finished, momentarily obsessed with Meredith as they might have been with her mother. Obsession was rarely good. And no matter how he tried to twist his mind to convince himself there was no danger, he wasn’t quite successful.

  At that moment Meredith and Savannah walked out of the café. Meredith’s gaze found him, and the smile that lit her features caused a flutter of crazy regret in his gut.

  If the lead that Sam had just given him led to solving the land-scheme crimes, then Chase’s work here would be done. What shocked him was the realization that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Meredith.

  He stood to wait for her as she said goodbye to Savannah, who then disappeared into the newspaper office. As Meredith walked toward him, the familiar heat of a simmering desire stoked through him. It had been with him for the past two days as he’d scarcely let her out of his sight.

  The problem was he didn’t know whether to act on it or ignore it. She was getting to him in ways no woman had ever gotten to him before. Even though he’d known her less than two full weeks, he felt as if he’d known her for half a lifetime. He was comfortable in her presence. Aside from the desire he felt for her, he liked the way she thought, admired her and enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

  He wanted to run from her because she stirred in him a hunger for something more than he’d had in his life. She drew him to her, and he felt the need to fight like hell to keep some sort of distance.

  Kathy certainly hadn’t been overthrilled at the news that he’d told Meredith who they really were and exactly why they were here. “Too close,” she’d warned him. “You’re getting too close.”

  “Hi,” Meredith said as she stopped in front of him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rhenquist.”

  “What’s good about it?” he asked with his usual scowl.

  She smiled, obviously not bothered by his attitude. “What’s good about it? I just had a wonderful lunch with my best friend. Even though the wind is cold, the sun is shining and today’s meat loaf at the café was the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  “You better not let Smokey hear you say that,” Rhenquist replied. “That man takes great pride in his cooking skills.”

  “You’re right,” she said with a laugh. “The meat loaf will be our little secret.” She looked at Chase. “You ready?”

  He nodded and with a goodbye to Sam, he and Meredith headed for her car. It was obvious her lunch with Savannah had been pleasant. Her mood was light, and he felt his mood responding likewise.

  �
�It must have been a good lunch,” he said as they got into the car. “You look like you had a good time.”

  She started the engine, a smile curving her lush lips. “I always have a good time with Savannah. She’s so bright and funny.” A faint frown creased her forehead. “You know she had terrible parents, too. Her mother basically told her she was ugly and no man would ever fall in love with her, and her dad simply ignored her.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said, as always finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the scent of her, which always reminded him of their night together.

  “She and Joshua met when they were both investigating the death of Charlie Summit. He was an old man who lived on the edge of town, and he was killed for his land.” She flashed him a quick glance. “But you probably know about that.”

  “I do.” Before his arrival in Cotter Creek, Chase had read all the files concerning all the deaths.

  “Anyway, the big news is not only did Savannah sign the papers to make the newspaper hers, but she and Joshua set a date for their wedding. Isn’t that terrific?”

  “It’s great. My big news is that Sam told me that Joe Black had business with Raymond Buchannan late one night after newspaper hours.”

  She looked at him with surprise, then quickly focused her attention back on the road. “Wow. So, you think maybe Buchannan is behind it all?”

  “I’m not sure what to think, but he definitely just rose to the top of the suspect list as far as I’m concerned. In fact, when I get back to the ranch I need to call Wallace and Tompkins and let them know what Sam told me.”

  She shook her head, the dark strands beckoning him to touch them. “Raymond Buchannan. I just can’t believe it. He’s been a lifelong resident here. Why on earth would he betray his town, his friends and neighbors?”

  “Whoever orchestrated this stood to gain tons of money,” he replied. “Love or money, those seem to be at the crux of almost every crime committed.”