Deadly Fall

by Elle James

  Mrs. Purdy wiped the counter clean and nodded. “If anyone can keep up with Leigha, Dix can.”

  “I hope so. I have work to do this morning and can’t hold her hand while she makes sense of the estate.”

  Mrs. Purdy raised her hand. “Leigha’s the expert there. She’ll show Miss Reeves all of her hiding places.”

  “I hope so. She hasn’t shown them to me.”

  “Because you don’t spend enough time with her. She needs a father as much as she needs a mother.” She raised her hands. “Not that I’m telling you how to raise your daughter. You’re the boss. You know best.” She waved her hands at him. “Now, out of the kitchen so I can finish cleaning up. I have a few more chores to tend to before I leave for Portland, and you have a business to run.”

  If he was the boss, then why did he feel he didn’t have any control over his housekeeper? His employees on Wall Street would never have spoken as frankly as Mrs. Purdy telling him how to run his household. But then, he had all the experience on Wall Street and none raising a little girl.

  Shaking off the sense he wasn’t doing it right, he marched to his office and went to work. So, he wasn’t as attentive as usual. He could still put in a good bit of day-trading and increase the value of his portfolio for the hundredth time.

  His thoughts strayed to Leigha and Dix, wondering where they were and what they were up to. By noon, he hoped to have his work squared away. Perhaps then he could ask his daughter to show him where all the hiding places were. If she refused to show him, he could demand that Dix take him there.

  He almost laughed at himself. Dix? Taking commands from him? Well, she had to have followed orders somewhere in her military career, or she wouldn’t have made it as far as she had. The dossier Tazer had shown him indicated Dix had been an Army Ranger, as well as a Medal of Honor and Purple Heart recipient. He wondered what wounds she’d sustained to receive a Purple Heart. The thought of her being wounded made his fists clench. And when he clenched his scarred and now reinjured hand, the pain reminded him to quit thinking about Dix and get to work.

  An hour later he pushed his chair back from the desk and went in search of his daughter and the bodyguard. If he couldn’t keep his mind on task, he might as well join them in their exploration of the property.

  He wandered through the halls, listening for the sounds of female voices. The vacuum whirred in the upstairs bedrooms, but that was the only sound he could hear. Where had they gone?

  He stepped out of the front door and looked around. He didn’t see any sign of Leigha, Dix or Brewer. Andrew frowned. What was the good of having someone watch over Leigha if she disappeared with the child?

  A sheriff’s vehicle rumbled up the sweeping, paved drive and pulled to a stop in front of the house. Gabe McGregor and an older man emerged.

  “Good morning, Mr. Stratford. I’m Sheriff Taggert.” He climbed the steps and held out his hand. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Fine.” If I could find my child and the woman who is supposed to be looking out for her. Andrew held up his hand, displaying the stitches. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t shake.”

  “Not at all,” the sheriff responded.

  Andrew glanced to the right and left, hoping to catch a glimpse of his daughter and Miss Reeves.

  “I read through McGregor’s report about the attack on you two nights ago. We’d like to look at the area in the daylight. Perhaps there is some evidence we could have missed in the density of the fog from last night.”

  Andrew nodded, unable to ignore the two men. The sooner he helped them, the sooner he could find the ladies. “I’ll take you to the exact location.” He turned and walked around the house, through the garden and out to the edge of the rugged cliff.

  McGregor and Taggert followed.

  “Any more incidents since two nights ago?” the sheriff asked.

  “No.” The lights going out on Dix in the basement could have been anything. Since she hadn’t been attacked, she’d probably suffered through a freak short. He’d have an electrician come check the panel and the wiring.

  Once he led the lawmen to the spot where he’d been attacked, he got a good look at it with a different perspective—looking down at what he’d gone over and had to climb up. A chill rippled down his spine. He was lucky to be alive.

  They checked around the tree, enlarging the circle a little at a time, staring at the ground. The rocky ledge didn’t give them much of a chance to find footprints. Thirty feet out from the tree, they entered the forest where the ground was covered in evergreen needles and moss. Again, not good for finding footprints. But then, maybe they weren’t looking for footprints.

  A bark sounded from the direction of the house.

  Andrew glanced around to see Brewer bounding his way. Leigha and Dix hung back, moving toward them at a more sedate pace.

  Before he reached Andrew, Brewer slowed, his tail wagging.

  Andrew bent to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

  Brewer then moved on to the sheriff and his deputy, sniffing hands and wagging his tail.

  Sheriff Taggert and Deputy McGregor crossed the ground and rejoined Andrew.

  “Didn’t find anything, did you?” Andrew asked.

  Taggert shook his head. “I didn’t expect we would. But we have to look in case the perpetrator left a calling card, a scrap of cloth, some DNA...anything.”

  “Unfortunately, he didn’t leave a trace,” McGregor confirmed.

  “Gentlemen, I’m sorry to waste your time.” Andrew herded them toward the house.

  “Investigating a crime is not a waste of our time,” Taggert argued. “We wish we could be of more help. Gabe said you didn’t know of anyone who might be mad at you or want you off the property. No disputes over property lines, no ex-wives looking to take you to the cleaners, former business partners who might have a gripe?”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’m the sole heir to the Stratford estate. Never been married. No ex-girlfriends stalking me and no former business partners with a complaint.”

  Taggert sighed. “For the time being, you might want to stay away from the cliff’s edge at night or in the fog and grow eyes in the back of your head. Wish we could help more.”

  “Thank you for taking the time to come out to investigate,” Andrew said.

  By then they’d reached Dix and Leigha.

  Andrew’s daughter held tightly to Dix’s hand and stared up at the sheriff and his deputy. Brewer sat at her feet, leaning into her body. She reached out to run her hand over the animal’s fur, stroking it slowly.

  “Hi, Leigha.” Deputy McGregor squatted beside her and scratched Brewer’s ears. “Do you remember me?”

  Leigha nodded, her eyes wide and wary.

  Brewer nudged McGregor’s hand and then rolled over, exposing his belly.

  The deputy laughed and scratched the dog’s belly. “I like a dog that knows what he wants.”

  “Brewer likes to have his belly and ears scratched,” Leigha said.

  “I’ll remember that the next time I visit.” The deputy smiled at the little girl and stood. “Miss Reeves, my sister Molly had good things to say about her meeting with you last night. I wish I had been there.” His lips turned upward on the corners and he cast a sideways glance at Andrew. “I hear I missed a show.”

  “You didn’t miss anything,” she said.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here to help Mr. Stratford and his daughter.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” She smiled, and the few floating clouds that had been blocking the sun cleared, leaving the big blue sky wide open and the sun shining brightly.

  Something woke inside Andrew he thought long dead. Something he didn’t expect or want to wake. But now that it had, he couldn’t make it go away. His heart swelled and his chest tightened.

&nb
sp; Dix smiling hit him like a ray of sunshine.

  Damn the woman to hell.

  Chapter 7

  After the sheriff and his deputy left the estate, Dix followed Leigha back into the house, fully aware of the man two steps behind her. Every nerve ending shivered in anticipation of him touching her arm, her back, somewhere on her body.

  But he didn’t. Instead he opened the back door to the house and held it for his daughter and Dix.

  She swung as widely as she could to get around him without actually bumping into him. Why she went to such lengths she couldn’t guess, but somewhere deep inside she knew that if they touched, all kinds of electric impulses would zing through her body and confuse her more than she already was about this man.

  Leigha skipped ahead to the kitchen, giving Dix time to confront Stratford about what had happened to bring him to hire a bodyguard. Royce had said something about being pushed off a cliff. After having been out to the cliff Stratford had been showing the lawmen, Dix could see why that was such a big deal. How he’d survived was beyond comprehension. The three-hundred-foot drop to the boulder-strewn shore would have killed a lesser being.

  She stopped in the hallway and faced the man.

  His head was down and he didn’t notice she’d stopped until he ran into her. He reached out to grab her arms and held her steady.

  “Sorry. I should have let you know I was stopping.”

  He slowly lowered his hands, removing them from her arms. “I should have been watching.”

  “So, tell me what happened to make you think you needed a bodyguard.” She tipped her head toward the door. “You don’t strike me as someone who would call the law unless it was the last resort.”

  “Someone pushed me over the cliff two nights ago during a really thick fog.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?”

  “If someone barreled into you like a lineman on a football field, would you consider it an accident?”

  Dix shook her head. “Did you see his face?”

  “No.” He hooked her elbow and led her toward the kitchen. “I’m not worried for myself. I worry for Leigha. She’s an innocent. She can’t tell who is friend or foe.”

  “Understandable. She’s a great kid.”

  “Did she show you all of her hiding places?”

  “Not yet. I think she’s still trying to decide how far she can trust me. We did the tour of the third floor. This place is huge. Have you considered transforming it into a hotel?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “But it would be incredi—”

  “No.” He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. “I value my privacy. Opening it to other people will put my daughter at too great a risk.”

  “This place needs to be full of people. It’s too big for just the two of you.”

  “It’s my home now. I brought Leigha here so that she could grow up in a small community, not the big city. Cape Churn is a nice little town.”

  “I wouldn’t know. All I know about it is what I saw when I drove through yesterday and straight out to the McGregor B and B.”

  “You’ll see more this afternoon when we go into town for dinner.”

  Dix hid a smile as she stepped through the kitchen door.

  Leigha carried a plate full of sandwiches to the table. “Mrs. Purdy made lunch. But she’s leaving now, so we have to clean up.”

  Dix hurried to take over for the housekeeper. “We’ve got this. I might not be a cook, but I can make a pretty decent sandwich.”

  “They’re already made. All you need to do is come up with your drinks. Chips are in the pantry.” Mrs. Purdy removed her apron, hung it on a hook near the back door and then looped her purse over her arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy dinner at Nora’s café.” She dropped a kiss on Leigha’s head and breezed out the door, leaving the kitchen silent in her wake.

  Dix filled glasses with ice and water from the tap, setting them on the table.

  Stratford grabbed an assortment of bags of potato chips from the pantry and laid them on the table.

  Leigha grinned. “This is almost like a picnic.” Her smile faded a little. “I’ve never been on a picnic. But this is nice.”

  Dix stared at the little girl, her eyes wide. “No picnic?” She glanced at Leigha’s father. “Well, Dad, how can we remedy this serious lack in her upbringing?”

  The man stood beside his daughter, his brows twisting. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we’re going on a picnic.” She took a sandwich out of Leigha’s grip and wrapped it in a napkin. “Show your father where he can find a blanket you don’t mind getting dirty while I pack this food into something we can carry.”

  Leigha leaped from her seat, grabbed her father’s hand and practically dragged him out of the kitchen. “Hurry! We’re going on a picnic!”

  Minutes later Dix had found a basket in the pantry, packed the sandwiches inside, a few water bottles, two bags of chips and napkins. By the time Stratford and Leigha returned with a blanket, she was ready.

  “Are you coming with us?” Dix asked her client.

  Leigha looked up at her father, her eyes big...hopeful.

  He nodded. “Of course. You have my sandwich, and I’m starving.”

  Leigha clapped her hands and grinned from ear to ear.

  Dix’s heart filled with some of the joy Leigha was experiencing. She’d gone on quite a few picnics with her parents. It was one of the many things she missed about them.

  By dying young, her parents would never know their grandchildren. And Dix’s children would never know their grandparents. Shoving aside the sad thoughts, Dix fought to recapture Leigha’s joy and led the way out of the house, checking right and left for any threats.

  Stratford locked the door behind him and quickly caught up. “I know just the place.”

  The three of them marched into the woods. Brewer ran ahead, chasing birds and small animals.

  Stratford seemed to know the woods better than Dix expected.

  “I used to spend my summers here with my grandfather. We explored, he took me fishing, and we even camped in these woods. Sometimes we’d pretend to be treasure hunters and search for pirates’ gold in the caves among the cliffs.” He shook his head. “I loved doing all the activities I couldn’t do from our apartment in New York City.”

  “You grew up in the city?” Dix asked.

  “I did. My parents both worked for large corporations that had home offices in Manhattan.”

  Dix could imagine the adventurous little boy trapped in a concrete jungle. No wonder he’d chosen to bring Leigha to Oregon.

  They ventured deeper into the woods until they came to an open glen with a burbling stream running through the middle.

  Dix couldn’t have found a better spot. The three of them spread the blanket and anchored it with the basket and a couple of rocks. A gentle breeze blew in from the Pacific, keeping the air cool and the sky clear.

  Leigha took charge of the basket and passed food to them, while Stratford held Brewer back from stealing all of their sandwiches.

  When they’d had their fill, Dix closed the basket and stretched out on the blanket, staring up at the sky between the branches of the trees.

  Leigha and Brewer ran off to play on the edge of the creek.

  “This place is beautiful. I don’t know how anyone would want to leave it for the city,” Dix said in a reverent voice, caught up in the beauty of the Pacific Northwest.

  Stratford lay on the opposite side of the blanket, his hands linked behind his head. “My father and grandfather had their differences. I contend they were too much alike—both very stubborn.”

  “What about your mother? Didn’t she like living in Cape Churn?”

  “My parents left shortly aft
er their wedding and never looked back. I didn’t know I had a grandfather until he showed up one day and asked to see me.”

  “What?” Dix turned to face him.

  “Like I said, my father and grandfather didn’t always get along. My grandfather knew my father wouldn’t come back and settle at his estate in Oregon and he needed to have someone to leave Stratford House to. The need for an heir, and a promise to my grandmother, made him swallow his pride and fly all the way to New York City. The man hated to fly. He did it to ask my father to let me come spend my summers in Oregon.”

  “So you ended up coming to live here.” Dix faced the sky again.

  “Not right away.”

  “Not until Leigha.” Dix watched the little girl playing with the dog. Her hair shone brightly in the afternoon sun.

  “I remembered how much fun it was to explore and have free rein to do what I wanted at my grandfather’s house. I also remembered what a big deal it was to go to a park for what they called fresh air in Manhattan.” He leaned up on an elbow, his gaze following Leigha. “I couldn’t do that to her. She deserved better.”

  Dix enjoyed the quiet conversation so different from the cold, stony silences the man had subjected her to in the beginning. “Why does Leigha call you ‘Mr. Stratford’ instead of Father or Daddy?” And with that one question, the warmth left the air and quiet, like a deep, deep chasm, stretched between them. “You don’t have to answer that.” She sat up and slipped the water bottles into the basket. “We should head back before it gets too dark. Besides, Leigha will need a bath before we go out to dinner. If you still want to go.” Dix was rattling on, and she knew it, but she didn’t know how to stop until Stratford laid a hand on her arm.

  “I don’t mind answering,” he said. “I didn’t know Leigha existed until she was already five years old.”

  “A year ago.”

  He nodded. “And she didn’t know she had a father.”

  “Her mother kept her from you?”

  “Leigha is the result of too much liquor and a one-night stand. Not one of my prouder moments.” He sighed. “But I can’t regret it.”