by Helen Conrad
She glanced up and down the street, but the only person she saw was old Mr. Worcheski, shuffling off in the opposite direction. Well, what if this were her car? Without another thought, she tried the door handle, pretty sure a vehicle this old wouldn’t have an alarm. The door opened easily. Now all she had to do was lean in and find the switch....
Foreign cars didn’t seem to have the light switch in the place she was used to. She craned her neck, trying to see across the steering column, and finally gave up and slipped into the driver’s seat to get a better look. The car smelled of ancient leather and polished wood, the inside reminding her of a comfortable and rather elegant library, in contrast to the slick, macho image the outside projected. The seat was deep and well lived-in, comfortable as only leather could be and very masculine. Glenna found herself sinking in, enjoying it, slowly and sensually breathing in the scents and taking in the sensations.
But only for a moment. Suddenly, the door, which she hadn’t closed but which had swung almost shut behind her, was yanked open, and a deep, angry male voice snapped, “Okay, out of the car.”
She jumped at the sound and looked up, her deep blue eyes huge in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.” The man looming over her, his face tough and unrelenting, made a jerking motion with his thumb, as if she needed sign language. “Get out.”
Glenna blinked at him, truly nonplussed. She wasn’t used to being talked to in that tone. People in town tended to smile when they saw her coming, tended to call out friendly greetings and ask if she needed anything. The grocer saved special chocolate samples for her, and the butcher gave her the best cuts of beef. Though Glenna tried to act like an independent, nineties woman, people usually responded by protecting her and treating her pretty well. With shock, she realized that this man didn’t even seem to like her very much.
“Oh, is this your car?” she said faintly, still staring up at him. From where she was sitting, so low in the seat, he seemed awfully tall and awfully hard looking. And his light blue eyes seemed to glitter in the morning light.
In response to her question, his wide mouth twisted with thinly veiled cynicism. “What are you trying to tell me?” he said shortly. “That this is all a mistake? I suppose you thought the car was yours.”
She was puzzled by his acerbity. There wasn’t any need for it. Slipping out of the car, she faced him, noting that her own five-foot-six frame came just about to his shoulder. She wanted to explain herself, to get him to smile instead of scowl. “No, of course not,” she said soothingly. “Listen, I was just trying to—”
His blue eyes didn’t change. “I could see what you were trying to do.” He looked her up and down for a moment and seemed to make a decision. “Why don’t you just stay put while I get a cop?”
Get a cop? For what? Without thinking, she grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. “What? Why? What do you want a cop for?”
His expression became one of satisfaction, as if he were pleased she’d finally woken to the seriousness of this situation. “I usually contact the police when someone is trying to steal my car,” he told her evenly. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
Her mouth dropped open and her own blue eyes began to spark with outrage. “What? Are you crazy? I was not trying to steal your car.” Where on earth could the man have picked up such a wild idea? It was insane. Glenna Kelsey, car thief. What a concept! She would have laughed if it hadn’t been for the hostile way he was looking at her. So she said it again, just to make sure he was getting this. “I was not trying to steal this car. Honest.”
“No?” He was looking her over less coldly now, but still with a cynical detachment. “Could have fooled me.”
She had to laugh, shaking her head. How could he be so wrong? “I was just...listen, you left your lights on.”
“And that was a signal for you to hop in?”
She stared at him. He was determined to be a jerk, wasn’t he? “Look,” she said finally, flipping back her braids with a defiant gesture. “I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, we do neighborly things for each other. Like turning off car lights so the battery won’t die.”
Lee’s eyes narrowed, but only because he was beginning to find her attractive. The way she laughed, the way she tried so hard to be sincere, made her look cute as heck. Which was exactly why he should be even more on his guard, he told himself. But for some reason he wasn’t listening. “Like borrowing cars when you feel like a joyride,” he said softly, but he was just baiting her now.
“Oh brother.” She threw up her hands at that one, shaking her head. “You’re a very suspicious man, aren’t you?”
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and shrugged. He had just about decided she was telling the truth. Or that if she wasn’t, he didn’t care much anymore. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m from the city and in the city, we suspect everybody of everything. You feel like you have to be on your guard at all times.”
She lifted her chin, glad to see him softening, but not ready to forget that he’d accused her of a major crime. “Well, I’m from a small town, and here we trust each other until proved otherwise.”
“Ah yes, rural America. The heartland.” The cynical tone was in his voice again, and it put her back up.
“You’d better believe it,” she said stoutly, eyes flashing.
She could tell he wasn’t going to call the police any longer, and she turned to go, remembering the stack of papers in her hand for the first time.
“Here, have a flyer,” she said, stepping back to hand him the brightly decorated sheet. “Why don’t you come to the Christmas bazaar? It might get you in a more charitable frame of mind for the holidays.”
He glanced at it, then back at her. “I’m not here for the holidays. But I’ll keep it in mind.”
She gazed at him levelly, her blue eyes with their thick fringe of black lashes taking him in and deciding he was unsalvageable. “Okay. Goodbye.” She gestured toward the car. “And hey, I never did get those lights turned off. Better check your battery before you try to go anywhere.”
With a casual wave, Glenna turned and started putting flyers under windshield wipers again. But she felt his gaze following her, and she turned toward Marge’s, suddenly ravenously hungry.
* * *
THE DINER WAS WARM and filled with people she knew. The moist air had steamed up the windows, giving the place a homey feel. Bright red upholstery met Formica tabletops, and scents of sausages cooking mixed with the rich essence of maple syrup. Marge’s was a haven from the modern world, a place where small-town friendliness welcomed patrons like a comforting blanket.
Glenna pushed open the glass door and waved to a few people she knew, some in booths, some at the counter. It was the sort of place where everyone turned to see who had just come in, but she was used to that. She hesitated for a moment, then headed straight for the table where Nora Gates and Liza Baron, now sisters-in-law since they’d married brothers Byron and Cliff Forrester, were chatting over steaming mugs of coffee.
“Hi.” Glenna slid into a seat next to Nora and looked at Liza across the table. “I just met the rudest man. I figured he’d just been in here. Did you see him?”
“Did we see him?” Nora rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be talking about that Lee Nielsen person. He’s all we’ve been talking about.”
Glenna turned and looked at Nora. Married life to the flamboyant Byron Forrester had loosened her up a little, but she still had an air of quiet dignity that reminded one of a schoolteacher or librarian. Her ash-blond hair was cut in a sleek, conservative style and her pale gray eyes were set off with only a hint of makeup. What Glenna had always liked about her was her sense of calm. No matter how excited everyone else got, Nora could be counted on to see a logical solution.
“Was he tall and kind of mean looking?” Glenna asked her.
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But Liza was the one who answered. “Picture this,” she demanded, stretching out in her seat in a way that immediately took control of the conversation. She held up her hands as though framing a picture. “Long, tall body,” she began with theatrical flourish. “Cold, cruel mouth. Strong, hard hands.”
Dropping her own hands, she stared into Glenna’s face, commanding attention. “He had a look that could cut a man down at twenty paces, a sneer that said he could throw orphans out into the snow if they didn’t pay their rent on time, or—” Liza sighed, throwing her head back as if in the throes of a mock passion “—ravish a woman like she’s never been ravished before.”
One corner of Nora’s mouth quirked upward. “Tell us, Liza. Are you a connoisseur of ravishment?” She gave the phrase a French accent that made Glenna chuckle.
Liza sat up in her seat, looked into her sister-in-law’s face and laughed. “Are you kidding? I am indeed. Cliff and I practice it nightly.”
Nora and Glenna both laughed, and Nora gave her a mock slap on the wrist. “Oh, Liza, you’re so bad,” she said in teasing despair.
Glenna shook her head, marveling at her flamboyant friend, whose entire life seemed a drama. “I’ll bet you could make a compelling story out of finding a missing sock stuck in the dryer,” she exclaimed.
“Sure I could.” Liza tossed her platinum-blond hair, which hardly looked as though she’d combed it yet that morning. “That’s what makes life fun.”
“So,” Glenna went on, entertained by Liza but not wanting to lose sight of the original topic, “who is this guy, anyway?”
Joe Santori, a local contractor, had been finishing up an omelet at the counter. Liza’s thespian antics had caught his attention as he passed their table and he’d paused to listen, nodding to the three women, who all knew him well. “I’ll tell you who he is,” he offered, adjusting his tool belt and shrugging into his jacket before going back out into the cold. “He’s the man who holds the destiny of this town in his hands.”
Glenna spun her head to look up at Joe. His curly black hair and jet-black eyes set off a face that was as friendly as it was interested in what was going on around him.
“Why?” she demanded, unable to think of any reason for such importance to be placed in the hands of one man—and such a surly man at that.
Joe spread out his arms. “He’s the arson investigator.”
Glenna’s eyes widened. “Oh, you mean for the fire at the F and M?”
“Yup.” Joe leaned on their table, shaking his head as though this was not particularly good news. “He’s here to find out why the old plant burned down.”
“But I thought the fire department already did a study and concluded it was an accident,” Glenna said.
“They did,” Joe told her. “But the insurance company is not going to be satisfied with that. They’re going to send out their own hired consultants to give them the straight skinny on the situation. They won’t trust us. Here in town, our own self-interest gets in the way of impartiality.”
Just then Marge came up behind him with a joking comment on his blocking the aisle, and he stepped back to let her pass, grinning and whispering a teasing comment of his own into her ear, a comment that made her laugh and elbow him playfully.
But Glenna wasn’t listening to their repartee. She was suddenly aware that she probably hadn’t taken the fire and its aftermath as seriously as she should have. Her father was foreman at Ingalls F and M and had been ever since she could remember. He’d been horrified when the plant had sustained a major fire. But he’d never given any indication that this might spell the end of his career there. The disaster itself had been horrible, of course, but her father hadn’t seemed overly upset by the situation, and since no one had been hurt, she’d assumed the insurance money would come through, the plant would be rebuilt and life would go on as normal. Now she was beginning to see it might not be that easy. Who could imagine the town of Tyler without the F and M?
She nodded and smiled, accepting the mug of coffee Marge put down in front of her, then turned back to Joe. “But I thought there was every indication the fire was an accident.”
“I heard that someone was seen running from the fire,” Nora noted.
“And I heard that rumor had been discounted,” Liza added. “It’s got to be an accident. Gotta be.”
“Let’s hope so,” Joe said. “That’s what the investigator’s here to prove, one way or the other.”
“Ah, yes.” Liza lowered her voice dramatically. “He’ll sift through the ashes, pore over the cinders, search for clues.” She shook her finger at the others. “If there’s hanky-panky, he’ll find it. They always do.”
That had an ominous note to it that Glenna didn’t care for. She frowned, looking at Joe. “And then?”
He shrugged. “The F and M either gets back on its feet again or dies an untimely death. We’ll have to wait and see.”
She shook her head. “But it was an accident,” she said again, looking from one face to another for confirmation of her claim.
The contractor shrugged and straightened, about to get on with his day. “Listen, this guy, Lee Nielsen, is staying at my place.” Joe and his wife ran Granny Rose’s Bed-and-Breakfast, in a charming old house they had renovated for that purpose. “From what I’ve seen so far, he’s okay. I think he’ll be fair.” He shook his head. “But you’ve got to remember, accidents don’t just happen by themselves. Somebody or something causes them.”
A cold, shivery feeling clutched at Glenna’s heart. “So?”
Joe’s dark eyebrows rose. “So if they find out that arson was involved, there will be no insurance money.”
“No insurance money,” she echoed, deeply disturbed by that concept.
“And if that happens, the plant can’t be rebuilt, the jobs won’t come back, employees will have to go on unemployment and this town will be in big trouble. You’ve seen pictures on the evening news of some of those communities in the Rust Belt—stores all boarded up, people wandering aimlessly with nothing to do. That could be Tyler.” Joe nodded at the women and started for the door.
The three of them sat in silence for a moment, as though giving due respect to the vision of doom he’d laid out. But that couldn’t last. The day was too young and there were too many other things to think about. Liza was the first to break the mood.
“Now come on, everybody. When the investigator was in here, everyone, including Joe, was glad-handing him, patting him on the back and saying what a swell guy he was. He’s not going to turn around and ruin us.” She grinned. “He’s too cute to do a thing like that.”
Nora nodded in agreement. “Actually, he seemed very nice,” she said. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
Glenna didn’t respond. Nice was hardly the word she would have used for the man. Cold and cynical and uncaring were words that came to her mind when she pictured him. And maybe arrogant as well. No, she couldn’t be optimistic about him and what he was going to find. Deep inside, she was suddenly frightened.
“So, what turned you on about our handsome executioner?” Liza asked Glenna, gazing at her speculatively. “What brought you in here with your face all flushed and your eyes sparkling?”
Glenna gave her a deprecating look. “You may not have noticed, Liza, but it’s cold as heck outside. That’s all that happened to my face and my eyes. A little chill.”
Liza laughed, studying her friend’s expression and reading all kinds of things there. “Don’t forget, we saw the guy, too. What did he do, give you the once-over and utter a wolf whistle that offended your feminist spirit?”
“No, he—”
“Perhaps he didn’t give her a wolf whistle, and that offended her feminine spirit,” Nora joked.
“No, I know what it was,” Liza crowed. “She gave him a wolf whistle and he
didn’t respond! Was that it, Glenna?”
“Oh, come on, we shouldn’t tease her,” Nora said quickly, noticing the flush on Glenna’s face and giving Liza an admonishing frown. “What really happened, Glenna?”
She looked from one to the other. They were laughing at her and she knew it. Unlike her Kelsey siblings, she’d been shy in high school, a quiet girl who had hung back from the dating game until later than most. They still thought of her that way, she realized, even though she’d married and had two children. And been divorced. Sometimes she even thought of herself that way. Around men, at least. But not around her career, she told herself stoutly. Her fledgling business was going to fly, and she was going to make it happen.
“I was putting a flyer for the bazaar on his car and he—he got sort of testy about it,” she said evasively, not wanting to recount their heated exchange.
Liza’s blue eyes narrowed as she searched Glenna’s gaze. “I’d be careful with that one if I were you,” she warned her softly. “He had that cold, cool air of a...a—”
“A seeker of wisdom and truth?” Nora interjected, smiling.
But Liza wasn’t joking any longer. She shook her head, still holding Glenna’s gaze. “Babe, take it from me. I don’t know what kind of fire investigator he is, but as a man, the guy is a coiled snake. At some point, he’s going to strike.”
CHAPTER TWO
LEE CAME OUT of the fire station and stopped to look up at the sky. Noon had brought a change, and the threat of snow was receding. It looked as though the sun might even peek out sometime today. That was welcome news. The snowfall from the night of the fire had pretty much melted away. Fresh snow could complicate his investigation.
