by Helen Conrad
She started having thoughts that gave a sudden jump to her pulse rate, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She didn’t have thoughts like that. Her cheeks blazed when she realized he was looking down at her curiously, and she turned away, busying herself with the dust mop again.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, startled by the look he’d seen in her eyes.
“Nothing,” she said stoutly, surreptitiously taking a deep breath. “Nothing at all.”
He came down off the ladder, folded it and put it away, then stopped in front of where she was working and said in a low, vibrant voice, “There are a few more things I’d like to ask you. Did I earn the right?”
She couldn’t keep dusting; there was no dust left. So she gave up, put down the mop and turned to face him, wishing those knowing eyes didn’t make her feel so deliciously shaky inside.
“I guess so,” she said reluctantly. “What is it?”
His blue eyes seemed to take her in and hold her. And then he asked a question she couldn’t answer. “I want to know what you think happened.”
“Me?” She felt as though she were being sucked down a whirlpool. No, that wasn’t fair. She had no opinion. Why would she?
“Yes, you.”
She shook her head, trying to stay above water. “I wasn’t there,” she said, knowing she was talking just a little too quickly. “I haven’t really talked to anyone who saw the fire. Why would you want my opinion?”
He gazed at her levelly for a moment, then reiterated, “I want your opinion because you’re part of the heart and soul of this town.” He paused dramatically, then added, “And you’ll tell me the truth.”
She gazed at him in shock. The truth? What was the man talking about?
Reaching out, he took her hand in his, still holding her with his compelling gaze. “If not now, when you know it,” he said, his words distinct, yet almost a whisper. “I can wait.”
Still staring at him, she felt the warmth of his hand on her fingers and tugged, drawing her hand away. She couldn’t let this happen. It was all games with him, manipulation. Even knowing that, it was effective. She was a woman, after all. And divorced. But she wasn’t that desperate. “You’re going to have to wait a long time,” she told him crisply. “Believe me, I have no truth to tell.”
He smiled as though he saw right through that. “Well, tell me this,” he said casually. “Did Judson Ingalls have his own place burned down?”
She shook her head, amazed at his gall. “What do you think?” she said, lobbing it back to him.
He shrugged, as though amused by her question. “I don’t think anything. I’m an investigator. I have to explore all the possibilities.”
She threw out her arms. “Then I don’t know what you’re doing here,” she said coolly, keeping up the front. “I’m not a possibility, and neither is anyone in my family. You’d better move on to more fertile fields if you want to get anywhere.”
Throwing back his head, he laughed softly, enjoying her much more than he’d thought he would. “Okay, I’m just about to go away and leave you alone,” he promised. “But I have one more request.”
She fought the impulse to close her eyes in relief. Despite the fact that she’d been holding her own, she was feeling stiff with the effort. “What is it?”
“Often people will have clues they don’t even dream they possess. Sometimes they see things or hear things and don’t realize they’re a part of something important.”
She nodded, conceding that. “What exactly are you driving at?”
His gaze sharpened. “I’d like to know if anyone driving past the plant on the day of the fire might have seen anything.”
She frowned. “I thought the fire happened at night.”
“It did. But we don’t yet know the exact time of originating combustion. So anything anyone saw—anything strange, any light or lack of light, any cars where they shouldn’t have been, anything like that—might help.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, suddenly remembering something she’d heard around town. “Wasn’t there an eyewitness? Wasn’t there a man seen running from the place?”
He nodded. “But I’m not real happy with it at this point. I think it may turn out he had nothing to do with the fire.” He glanced into her eyes. “Where were you that day?” he asked quietly.
“Me?” She gazed at him, feigning amusement. “You’re going to try to pin this on me?”
“No, Glenna.” He smiled at her. He had to admit the idea was preposterous, although he’d seen the least likely people turn out to be the guilty party before. Still, the thought of Glenna with an evil impulse was pretty hard to visualize. “I’m trying to find out if you saw anything. Were you near the plant that day?”
“No, of course not.” Her eyes shifted as a thought occurred to her, but she thrust it away to be dealt with later. “Why—why would I have been there? I never go there.”
He’d seen the shift and it puzzled him. “Never?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Well, I do drive by on my way to classes at Sugar Creek Community College,” she admitted.
His eyes narrowed like a man homing in on a target. “Did you drive by that day?”
She was avoiding his gaze now. “It was a Sunday. There were no classes.” That was the truth. So why did she feel so guilty?
He waited a moment, and when she didn’t elaborate, he reached over and picked up his jacket, slipping into it, and said, “Well, think it over. And ask your friends, if you would. Any little item might provide an important clue, anything anyone might have seen on the day before the fire, or on the night of the fire itself. And let me know. I’d appreciate it.”
He was starting toward the door and she followed him, thinking over what he’d been saying.
“Does this mean that you think the fire was deliberately set?” she asked, hoping to pin him down.
He swung around and looked down at her. “No, this means I’m investigating a fire scene to see if I can find all the available evidence.”
“Then why all these questions?”
It was a complaint more than a request, but he answered it anyway. “Because that’s what you do when you investigate. You gather all the facts together and evaluate them and try to get to the truth. I can’t afford to overlook anything or anyone.”
She nodded. “Of course,” she said faintly, feeling slightly queasy and not sure why.
Somehow he’d moved too close again, and as she looked up into his infinite blue eyes, she was aware of the fact that she was almost touching him. But she didn’t move away. Not this time.
He noticed that omission and a faint smile twisted his wide mouth. Reaching out, he touched her earring, and then his finger curled around her earlobe for just a fraction of a second, sending a series of sensations rushing through her.
“That’s the way I do my job,” he murmured. “And that’s why I get the big bucks.”
“Oh.” She was breathing very quickly and found it hard to speak. “Does this line of work pay well?” she asked brightly, then was mortified at having asked such a personal question. But her logic didn’t seem to be functioning all at once.
Shrugging, he let his hand slide down to curl around the back of her neck. “If you’re the best, it’s not bad,” he told her with absolutely no false modesty.
She gazed up at him, searching his eyes, not sure if they were still talking about what she’d thought they were talking about, but unable to break away. Her heart was pounding and she asked softly, “Are you the best?”
His grip on her neck tightened and he tugged her just a little bit closer. “I’m pretty damn good,” he admitted in a husky growl.
They stood that way, suspended in time, and then he pulled away, turning toward the door. Glenna knew she’d wanted him to kiss her. Shaking herse
lf, she followed him, unable to believe she could be such a fool, determined to pretend this had never happened, to act as though everything were casual and normal.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more,” she said stiffly. “I know I wasn’t much help to your inquiry.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he told her with that knowing grin that had infuriated her before. “You were very helpful.”
He pulled the door open, not noticing that there was someone on the porch, just about to come in, and added, looking back at Glenna over his shoulder, “As a matter of fact, you were great.”
When he turned, he found himself face-to-face with Pam Casals Kelsey, who had a look of pure astonishment on her friendly face.
“Hello,” Lee said, stepping aside to let her in.
“Hello,” Pam repeated, looking him up and down, surprise and wonder clearly written on her expressive features.
Glenna introduced them quickly, and Lee nodded and went on his way, dodging Jimmy and Megan as they flew past, coming up the walk.
“What were you great at?” Pam whispered, grabbing Glenna’s arm, but not taking her gaze off Lee. “Tell me quick. I’ve got to know.”
“Oh, nothing. Pam, he’s the fire investigator. He—he just wanted to ask some questions, that was all.”
Pam grimaced tragically. “Why didn’t he want to ask me?” she moaned.
Glenna ignored her dramatics and bent down to hug her children and welcome them home. They cried out their greetings and ran on into the kitchen to get a drink of water, and she turned back in time to see Pam give a low whistle between her teeth as she watched Lee get into his car.
Grabbing her sister-in-law’s arm, Glenna pulled her inside. “Why did you do that?” she cried, though she knew it probably hadn’t been loud enough for him to hear.
Pam rolled her eyes. “Because the man is a hunk.”
Glenna recoiled, pulling away. “He’s not a hunk,” she said firmly. “He’s the fire investigator.”
Pam shrugged. “Can’t he be both?”
“No.”
Unfazed, Pam turned toward the living room, groaning as though she were on her last legs, and Glenna followed, trying hard to get Lee out of her mind. She could let the questions go, but his insinuating smile was haunting her in a way she hated. Gritting her teeth, she forced the picture out of her mind.
“Well, I brought your screaming meemies back to you. Oh, and Grandma Bauer sends her love,” Pam said, flopping down on the couch in feigned exhaustion. “I’m telling you, Glenna, I don’t know if I can hack this motherhood stuff.”
Glenna glanced toward where her children had disappeared into the kitchen. “What did they do?” she asked. “Were they bad?”
“Oh, no, no.” Pam waved her hand dismissively. “They were just...kids. They’ve got more energy than a high-school football team, and I should know, since I used to coach one.”
Glenna nodded, sinking down into a chair across the coffee table and sighing as she sat back. She was worn-out, exhausted, and she wondered idly why that should be. She hadn’t really done much today. Nothing, she reminded herself, but be charmed and horrified by a snake-oil salesman.
“You’re the expert,” she agreed aloud.
Pam raised her head and looked Glenna squarely in the face. “Exactly. And even after all my time as a coach, this is worse. Taking care of two kids is like trying to herd cats down Main Street.”
Glenna laughed. “Maybe you shouldn’t take both of them at the same time. Maybe if you just took Jimmy—”
“Nope.” Pam flexed her shoulders. She was an athletic-looking woman, with an Olympic gold medal to her credit. “I’ve got to go whole hog. If I wimp out, I’ll never know for sure if I can handle this stuff. And right now, I’ve got to tell you, I’m wavering.”
Glenna thought she was kidding at first, or overstating it, but then realized she was serious. “Oh Pam, no, don’t give up,” she said, worried. She knew Pam and her brother had tried for a long time to conceive a child. Patrick was wonderful with kids and had always wanted one of his own. And women with MS often went into complete remission during pregnancy; they’d studied all the statistics. Finally, secretly upset with herself for being infertile, Pam had started thinking seriously about adopting. And wondering anxiously what kind of mother she’d make.
“Look, Glenna, I’m no spring chicken, and with the MS... I’m used to going where I want when I want without having to consider a little bundle of joy at every turn. Maybe I’m too old and set in my ways to change.” She shook her head. “I’m just not sure.”
“It’s a big step,” Glenna agreed. Looking at her sister-in-law, she threw out her hands, palms up. “It all depends on whether you can totally rearrange your life, because believe me—I’m not going to kid you about this, or try to sugarcoat anything—it will change your life. You do have to give up some things you won’t want to. As a matter of fact, when you have young children, they are your life. It’s pretty near impossible to piggyback raising young children onto a career or anything else that takes your energy outside the home. While they’re real young, you’re going to have to concentrate on them. That’s the way life is set up, the way human beings are made.”
“Yes, and that’s as it should be.” Pam sat up straighter, thinking about it. “Parenting is a very important job and that’s why I want to make sure I can do it decently before I throw myself into it. Once you make that commitment, there’s no going back.”
“No,” Glenna agreed. “That is definitely true.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, each thinking her own thoughts on the subject, and suddenly a sound made Glenna look up to find a look of terror on Pam’s face. Her mouth opened, but all that came out was an “arghhh,” and all she could do was point.
Glenna spun in time to see Jimmy halfway up the stairs, poised on the outside of the banister and ready to drop on Megan, who was playing with a doll on the floor below.
“No, Jimmy,” Glenna yelled as she leaped to her feet and raced toward him. “Don’t!”
He clung to the railing and looked down at her, startled.
“Jimmy, don’t you dare jump on other people.” She’d reached him by now and was hauling him back up over the rail. “You could hurt Megan very badly. And guess what? You could hurt yourself, too.” She stared down into his wide eyes, resisting the urge to shake him, but wanting to make sure he realized the gravity of what he’d almost done. “Do you understand me?”
He nodded, obviously impressed that his mother was taking it this seriously. “Sorry, Mommy,” he said, shaking his head, his lip trembling. “I’ll never, never do it again.”
Glenna looked down and thought for one quick second of what life would be like without him. What if she’d made the decision Pam was playing with? What if she’d said no to having children? A lump filled her throat and she gathered him into her arms and held him very tightly.
“All right, darling,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Go play in your room while I talk to Aunt Pam. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said sheepishly, then turned and ran off.
Glenna blinked back tears and turned to rejoin Pam, who shook her head as though this last scene had proved her point. “I just don’t think I could do that,” she muttered.
“Sure you could,” Glenna told her reassuringly. “It’s always different when it’s your own.”
Pam nodded. “That’s what everyone says. But what if it just doesn’t work? What if...” She licked her lips and squirmed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something awful. This is my biggest fear. What if I adopt a baby and I can’t...I can’t bond with it?” Her eyes searched Glenna’s for help. “What if I don’t feel anything?”
Glenna stared back at her. She didn’t want to give false hope, and yet she couldn’t
leave Pam like this. Bonding had never been a problem for Glenna. The moment she knew she was pregnant she was already in love with her child, both times. But she knew that wasn’t always the way it was. After all, there was Alan. The man she’d married had seemed so sweet and kind, and yet, when faced with a baby he’d helped to make, he was cold as ice. So she knew it happened. The fact that it had happened to her own children was a heartbreak she—and they—would carry with them forever.
“Pam, what can I say? I don’t think it would happen that way. I think twenty-four hours would probably be enough to send you head over heels into gaga land with any baby that showed up on your doorstep. But I can’t promise you it will happen. No one can.”
Pam nodded slowly, then shrugged as Glenna sat back down in the chair. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” she promised. “Now tell me more about your hunky fire inspector,” she went on as cheerfully as she was able.
Glenna grimaced, but she knew what Pam was doing and she was perfectly happy to go along. “He’s not hunky,” she said tartly, “and he isn’t mine and he isn’t an inspector. He’s an investigator, and he’s trying to find out if there was arson involved in the fire at the F and M. And anyway, he’s arrogant and high-handed. And I hope he doesn’t come back.”
Pam grinned, delighted with the reactions she could read in her sister-in-law’s face and voice. “Oh, really? Tell me more. What did he do?” Her forehead creased in a frown. “He didn’t get fresh with you, did he?”
Glenna stared at Pam and then laughed, shaking her head. “No. Nothing like that. I mean, this has nothing to do with any sort of relationship or anything. I’m not kidding,” she added when she saw the skepticism on Pam’s face. “He’s just investigating, and he was trying to find out things about the Kelseys and our background.”
Pam nodded. “Did you tell him about the bandit?” she asked.
Glenna blinked. “What bandit?”
“I don’t know.” Pam shrugged. “Patrick told me you folks were descended from some bandit or something.” At Glenna’s look of scorn, she made a face. “No bandit, huh? I guess Patrick was embroidering a little to make it seem more romantic. Not that he needs help in the romance department!” she said hurriedly before Glenna could comment. Both women laughed at the thought of the devilish, golden-tongued Patrick Kelsey needing a boost in that way.
