“Life happened. Things don’t always work out according to our plans. How’re you and Lacey doing, by the way?”
“We went to the farmhouse together.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “The farmhouse? As in Whitfields’? That must’ve been tough. Why’d you do a thing like that?”
Rory shrugged. “I’m not sure. I wanted to go there, and I wanted to go there with her.”
“So, did your experience change anything?”
“Not that I’m certain of. I still want to tear the place down.”
“And she doesn’t.”
“No. She’s determined to protect her grandmother.”
“So, did your search of the pawnshops turn up anything?”
Rory gave him a summary of his and Lacey’s visits to the pawnshops, including the last one where Midge recognized the necklace.
“No kidding? Maybe there’s something to Lacey’s theory, after all.”
“Maybe. I still think it’s a long shot, though. But then, after Jim told me they’d invited her to their barbecue, I called her and said I’d pick her up. Am I crazy or what?”
“What’d she say?”
“We’re going. By the way, will you be there?”
“Nah, I’m out of town this weekend. One of my law school buddies is getting married, so I’m off to Boise.”
“Married. Wonder what that’s like.”
Sam laughed. “Not like winning a football game, I’ll bet.”
“Or a court case.”
“You got that right. Come on, we’ve rested long enough. We’ll toss a few more and then I gotta take off.”
Fifteen minutes later, Rory was back in the shop and Sam’s truck had disappeared down the hill. John stepped from the office and handed him a slip of paper. “Miz Simmons wants you to call her about her van. The one she uses for her day care.”
“Thanks, John. I’m on it.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Alice Simmons’s number.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LACEY STOOD ON the porch at Sophie’s, waiting for Rory to pick her up to go to the Youngs’ barbecue. Her misgivings about accepting both the Youngs’ and Rory’s invitations had haunted her all week. For the past ten years, she’d kept herself aloof when it came to her old high school acquaintances, and now here she was, showing up at their party. Wouldn’t they wonder why Rory, of all people, had brought her? The worst worry of all, of course, was that someone would mention her past.
Too late to change her mind now, though. She was stuck.
She expected Rory to be driving his truck, but instead he arrived in a shiny red Chevrolet Impala. He pulled to a stop, jumped out and hurried around to open the passenger door.
He looked up to the porch. “Your chariot awaits, madam.” He made a sweeping gesture.
Taking a deep breath, Lacey went down the porch stairs and climbed into the seat. “Another beautiful car. What year is it?”
“A ’78. Not quite a classic, but a gem nonetheless.”
She waited until he was behind the wheel again and then asked, “You must have quite a collection now.”
“I have a few. Ties up a chunk of change, but like I told you, I want to open a classic car museum.” Rory guided the car back down the driveway, earning admiring looks from a couple strolling the walkway.
“Any idea where that will be?” she asked.
“Not at the moment.”
“With you and your grandfather in the property business, I’d think you’d have several options.”
“Maybe. But I’m not ready yet, anyway. Juggling two jobs is about all I can handle right now.”
After driving several miles down the highway, Rory turned off and drove through stone pillars marking the entrance to Mountain View Estates, and after winding around several streets, they reached the Youngs’ mini-ranch. Rory pulled up alongside other vehicles parked at the side of the house. Their arrival immediately caught the attention of the guests gathered in the backyard.
“Hey,” someone called. “Rory’s here.”
The men swarmed around the Impala like bees to honey, and Lacey had barely exchanged greetings with them and exited the car before the hood was up and the car’s innards were under scrutiny. Despite her nervousness, she had to smile.
Toni followed in the men’s wake. Today, instead of a ponytail, her hair was loose, almost reaching her waist, and blue shorts showed off her long legs.
“Crazy, aren’t they?” Toni nodded at the men gathered around the Impala. “But leave them to their fun and come meet the other women.”
Lacey fell into step beside Toni as she led them to the backyard, which had a barn painted a traditional red, a garden where cornstalks waved in the breeze and beyond that a grove of apple trees. “What a nice place you have,” she said.
“We love it. Plenty of space to raise kids and only a few miles from Jim’s job. He works for Bennett’s Building Supply, you know. Or maybe you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. I’ve lost track of…so many people here.” Suddenly awkward, she looked away.
“Hey, my memory isn’t so great, either. We were in at least one class together, though, weren’t we?”
“We were. English, I think.”
Toni snapped her fingers. “Okay, now I remember. Mrs. Doakes and the Friday essay. You always wrote about a famous historical person.”
“And you always wrote about those fabulous vacations your family took.”
Toni laughed. “My mom’s a travel agent, and she always had a deal for us.”
They reached a stone patio, where the women guests sat in a semicircle. Two children sat on their mothers’ laps while several older children played with a ball nearby. A black Lab and a dachshund lay on the grass, idly watching the action. The aroma of barbecue drifted from the barbecue pit at the patio’s far end.
Toni poured Lacey a glass of wine from a keg sitting on a table, and then brought her to the group. “Most of you remember Lacey Morgan. Have a seat, Lacey.” She indicated an empty chair.
Lacey sat and waved as she looked around at the familiar faces. “Hi, everyone.”
“Hi, Lacey.”
“Good to see you.”
“Long time, Lacey.”
“I don’t think you know Beth Markey.” Toni nodded toward a dark-haired woman. “Her husband, George, works with Jim at Bennett’s.”
Beth and Lacey greeted each other, and the women resumed their discussion. Not surprisingly, talk centered on their children.
“Keesha will be in preschool this fall,” Beth said with a sigh. “Seems like only yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital.”
“They do grow up fast.” Lorna Phillips bounced her baby boy on her knee. “But she’ll love it. Tyler likes school so much he wants to stay there all day.”
Beth frowned. “Keesha’s clingy. She hasn’t adjusted to our move here.”
“Give her time,” Sara North put in.
Lacey nodded and smiled politely, all the while feeling very much the outsider. She glanced over her shoulder to see that the men had migrated from the Impala to the barbecue pit. Bottles of beer in hand, they gathered around chef Jim, wearing a long white apron and traditional chef’s hat.
“What about you, Lacey?”
Startled to hear her name, Lacey turned back to the group. Beth had spoken, and she was looking at Lacey with raised eyebrows.
“Me?” Lacey pressed a hand to her chest.
“Do you have children?”
“No, I don’t. Too busy working, I guess.”
“We’re old high school friends,” Toni explained. “After graduation, Lacey went off to college in Boise and stayed there to work.”
“So you didn’t want to live in a small town anymore?” Beth said.
The other women exchanged glances. Then all eyes focused on Lacey.
Lacey twisted her fingers together. “I, ah, the historical society there made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Time to e
at!” Jim called from the barbecue pit.
Toni jumped up. “I’d better get the salads on the table.”
“I’ll help,” Sara North said.
“Me, too,” Tammy Schulz put in.
Glad for the interruption, Lacey expelled a relieved breath. No telling where that conversation would have led.
When all the food had been brought to the buffet table, Rory caught up with Lacey to fill their plates. The guests sat at one long table, with the children at card tables nearby. Tails wagging, the dogs roamed, looking for handouts.
“Are you doing okay?” Rory asked Lacey as he slipped onto the bench beside her.
“I’m fine.”
Except for the tense moments when Beth had questioned her motive for leaving Silver River, Lacey was surviving better than she’d expected.
“These ribs are the best, Jim,” one of the men said.
“Thanks.” Jim stood and took a bow.
Toni grinned at her husband. “I keep telling him he should quit selling lumber and open a restaurant.”
The talk jumped from subject to subject, finally landing on Silver River Days. Anna Thompson looked down the table at Lacey and asked, “How’s your job with the newspaper going, Lacey?”
Lacey finished a bite of potato salad. “It’s interesting. I do love writing about history.”
Beth’s brow wrinkled. “You have a job here, Lacey? I thought you worked in Boise.”
“The one here is temporary,” Lacey explained. “I’m helping our newspaper’s editor with publicity for Silver River Days.”
Anna’s husband, Len, spoke up. “You ought to move back, Lacey. What happened ten years ago wasn’t your fault. Or Rory’s.”
Anna elbowed him. “Len!”
Len dropped his fork and raised both hands. “Sorry!”
The others exchanged looks.
Rory cleared his throat. “Who’s going to join me in the car show?” he asked, and much to Lacey’s relief, the conversation took a new turn.
After dinner, Lacey helped the other women clean up and put away the leftover food. As she entered the kitchen with a bowl of potato salad, she saw Beth and Anna at the sink, rinsing dishes. Their conversation floated to her ears:
“—her father killed Rory’s father,” Anna was saying. “Shot him in the back in cold blood. Can you imagine?”
“And he’s with her now?” Beth pressed her fingers to her lips.
Anna looked around and saw Lacey. Her face turned red. “Oh, Lacey, I’m sorry. Beth being new and all—”
Lacey placed the bowl on the counter. “It’s all right, Anna. But, no, Rory and I aren’t together. He just gave me a ride to the party.” Then she wheeled around and walked out.
Lacey kept going all the way across the lawn to the apple trees, where she stood gazing at the distant mountains. Her heart was pounding, and her face felt hot. She took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the calm, peaceful scene before her. Presently, she calmed down, too. A glance over her shoulder told her no one had noticed her absence. The women were either occupied with their children or helping to clean up, and the men were following Jim into the barn to inspect something there. Still, she waited a few minutes more before returning to the party.
*
LATER, ON THE way home, after Lacey had not uttered a word, Rory said, “Len has a big mouth, but he didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“He said what everyone was thinking. Everyone except Beth and her husband. And now she knows the story. When I was helping to put the food away, I walked into the kitchen while Anna was filling her in.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear their gossip.”
“My past will always be the proverbial ‘elephant in the room.’”
“Do you have to let it be?”
His voice had an impatient edge she found irritating. “I can’t imagine you like being reminded, either.”
“No, I don’t, but I want to move on.”
Lacey folded her arms. “I’ll be able to move on when I prove my father’s innocence.”
“So, we’re back to that again. Well, for me, it’ll be when that house is no longer standing.”
Neither spoke. A mile or so went by, and then Rory turned off the road.
“Now where are we going?” she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“Thought we’d take a little side trip.”
Rory followed the road until they reached the river and a park with picnic tables and benches. He pulled into a space reserved for vehicles. “I need to stretch my legs. How about a walk by the river?”
“I don’t know—” Lacey gazed out the window at the water flowing by, a soft silver in the shadows from trees on the opposite bank.
“C’mon, a walk’ll do us both good.”
He got out of the truck, came around to her side and opened the door. Held out his hand.
She looked at his hand and then raised her gaze to his face. He smiled and said softly, “You know you want to.”
She sighed and put her hand in his. “Okay, but not for long.”
They stepped onto the path along the bank. The warm air carried the scents of earth and trees and the wildflowers growing nearby. On the other side of the water, the roofs of farmhouses and barns peeked through the cottonwood trees.
“This is pleasant,” she conceded after they’d strolled for a few minutes. “I’ve always loved the river.”
“So have I. Hey, there’s a bench. We’ll sit for a few minutes.”
“I thought you wanted to stretch your legs,” she teased.
“I do. But right now, I want to take a break.”
When they were seated, he placed his arm casually along the back of the bench. They talked some more, and before she knew it, he’d lowered his arm to grasp her shoulder and pull her close.
“Rory—”
“Just relax, okay? Holding you feels so good.”
With a sigh, she nestled against him. Being close to him did feel good, more than she wanted to admit.
“Lacey…”
She half turned, just in time for him to gently grasp her chin, lift her face to his and kiss her lips.
With a sigh, Lacey returned his kiss. Being in his arms felt wonderful. After a while, though, she came to her senses and drew back. “Oh, Rory… We shouldn’t… We can’t…”
“Yes, we can. We’re still good together, Lace.”
“No, no. I shouldn’t have let you help me search for the necklace. I shouldn’t have come with you tonight.”
“But you did, and here we are. And you want this as much as I do.”
“What I want doesn’t matter. It’s what I have to do while I’m here in Silver River that’s important. But right now, I need to go—” she’d almost said “home” before she remembered she didn’t have a home here anymore “—to Sophie’s,” she finished.
*
LACEY AND RORY both were quiet on the drive to the B and B. Lacey searched her mind for something to say that would end the evening on, if not a positive, at least a neutral note.
At last, Rory turned onto the lamp-lighted driveway leading to the old Victorian. As they passed the guests’ parking lot, Lacey automatically glanced at the spot where she knew her car was parked. Yes, there it was. Then she noticed a zigzagging light. A flashlight? Another guest checking on his car? Or a prowler?
“Rory, I think someone’s over there by my car.” She pointed.
Rory slowed the Impala and craned his neck. “Yeah, I see a light. We’ll check it out.” He turned his car down the row.
Keeping her eyes on the moving light, Lacey soon discerned a shadowy figure in front of her Camaro. “There is someone by my car.”
Rory braked to a stop. He switched off the ignition and the lights. “You stay here. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“I’m coming, too.”
“No, it could be dangerous. Stay here.” He opened his door and jumped out.
Lacey climbed from the car and followed
him.
A dark-clothed figure knelt by Lacey’s car.
“Hey, you!” Rory yelled.
The person looked up, froze and then jumped up and ran. Rory followed, with Lacey close behind. They trailed him down another row of cars, but then he disappeared. They searched the rest of the parking lot and then the area beyond without finding any sign of the intruder. Finally, Rory stopped, planted his hands on his hips and shook his head. “We might as well give up. He got away.”
Lacey pressed a hand to her chest and blew out a breath. “Probably out to the highway by now.”
Rory nodded. “We’ll check your car, see if he did any damage.”
They traced their steps back to Lacey’s car. “He slashed the tire.” Rory pointed to the right rear tire.
Sure enough, the tire was flat and had a long gash in the side. They examined the other three tires and found all of them cut and flat.
Lacey pressed her lips together in anger. She’d had her car back for only a few days and now this.
“Anything else?” Rory said.
Lacey pulled on the front door handle. It didn’t budge. “Still locked.”
Further examination showed no broken windows and no tears in the top.
“At least, he didn’t get inside,” she said, and then looked around. “Did he slash just my tires, or others, too?”
An inspection of the cars parked nearby revealed none had their tires—or anything else—destroyed.
“Maybe he was just getting started,” Lacey said. “And he happened to pick on me first.”
“Maybe. Whatever, we’d better call the police.”
*
“WE’VE NEVER HAD a problem with vandalism,” Sophie told the guests assembled in the B and B’s parlor the following morning.
“Were hers the only tires slashed?” A middle-aged man nodded at Lacey.
The others turned in her direction.
Lacey shifted in her chair, uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. But she didn’t blame Sophie for calling this meeting. Some of the guests had witnessed the arrival of the police last night, and word had spread that there’d been trouble in the parking lot.
“As far as we know, Lacey’s tires were the only ones,” Sophie said from her post by the fireplace. “Has anyone else found any damage or evidence of a breakin?” Her gaze wandered over the group.
Silver River Secrets Page 16
