by Dana Mentink
He looked down where her fingers circled his wrists. “I can’t really believe it.”
“I can. I’ve been praying for it on my knees every night.”
He tilted his head. “You have? Even after I filed for divorce?”
She shrugged. “You don’t deserve to be imprisoned. You’re innocent.”
He was quiet a moment. “And you’ve always believed in me, haven’t you? Even when everyone else was ready to hang me from the highest tree, my cousin Jude included.”
She sighed. “They don’t know you like I do.”
He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek with one finger.
“You were always the best thing that ever happened to me.” Before she knew what was happening, he’d leaned down and kissed her. The connection was so sweet, like she’d remembered, only different. He was the one person on the planet who knew her, deeply and completely, and she’d thought she’d known him too.
But he’d asked for a divorce. That betrayal stung her afresh. Hurt rose to overtake the other rush of feeling and she stepped away.
He looked dazed, staring at her with warmth she could not ignore.
“I want you to have your life back, Beckett.” She cleared her throat and added, “So you can start fresh.”
“Laney...” He stopped and looked at his feet. “Thanks, for believing in me, I mean.”
Her throat felt too raw to speak, so she started back to Aunt Kitty. They helped her to her car and saw her safely on her way. Laney felt a rush of exhaustion strip away her remaining energy. Whatever they had discovered, there would not be any further developments until the morning.
Beckett walked her back to the cabin. Mercifully, he did not say anything further about what had passed between them. When she was safely inside, she closed the curtains and hoisted Admiral onto her bed, letting him curl into the warmth of her stomach. “You understand why I can’t trust Beckett again, right?”
Admiral swiped a tongue under her chin and snuggled closer.
No, Admiral probably couldn’t imagine anything of the kind. But what did the dog know of betrayal? He probably didn’t even remember the family who had abandoned him at the vet clinic. If the dog could speak, would he chastise her for being foolish? She understood on some level why Beckett asked for the divorce.
But the deep-down, soul-crushing ache of it, being turned away when she’d needed him most, would not subside. Is it pride, Lord? On the heels of that prickly thought, she turned out the light and pulled up the quilt.
* * *
She awakened with a start. The bedside clock told her it was just before two in the morning. Why had she woken? Though her muscles still ached from her life-or-death run from Kenny’s uncle, she was not uncomfortable, nor consumed by a craving or a need to visit the restroom. But there was something, just out of reach in her senses.
The porch light she’d left on at Beckett’s insistence created a feeble glow through the front curtains. A shadow crept past the window. Her stomach dropped. It wasn’t Beckett gliding past, too short and too stealthy. As quietly as possible, she slid out of bed, leaving Admiral snoring under the blankets. Grabbing her cell phone, she tiptoed to the window, easing the curtain back enough to peer out. The shadow was gone. Had she imagined it? She was tapping out a text message to Beckett when a realization began to dawn on her, something out of place, something dangerous.
Smoke!
She yanked the drapes fully open, sending Admiral into a panic. Gray puffs drifted across the courtyard. Beckett emerged from his tent at a gallop, still fully clothed.
She shoved her feet into some shoes and opened the door, stepping out on the porch and making sure Admiral did not follow. Beckett ran toward her, skidding to a stop as his senses took in the same message. There was a fire...close.
“I’m calling the fire department.” Even as she dialed, she realized what Beckett was no doubt recognizing also... The fire was coming from the western set of rooms, from the spot where their one-and-only guest was sleeping.
* * *
Beckett sprinted to Rita’s room. Smoke poured out from under the door. He didn’t bother knocking but tried the handle. Locked. He was hammering on the wood and hollering when Herm arrived, barefoot and sleepy eyed, followed by a fully dressed Levi.
“I was out checking on a horse,” Levi said. “Break the window?”
“I’ll get a metal chair.” Herm turned and hustled off.
Beckett didn’t wait. He aimed a massive kick at the spot just below the door handle. It held until the second smash, when the wood splintered and gave, letting loose a plume of acrid smoke.
“Curtains have caught,” Levi shouted.
“Rita,” Beckett yelled over the fizz and crackle of the burning curtains. “Are you in there?”
Laney pushed through the smoke, a handkerchief held over her mouth. “Don’t breathe this stuff in,” he called to her, but she shoved a fire extinguisher at him before Herm put down the chair he’d fetched and guided her away.
Spraying the foam as he went, Beckett pushed into the room, Levi right behind him.
At first his eyes stung with the fumes emitted by the burning curtains. “Rita,” he shouted.
Levi ran past the neatly made bed into the bathroom. “She’s not here.”
Gone? But he could just make out her blue vinyl suitcase in the corner. Wherever she was, at least she had not been injured by the smoke. Levi yanked down the curtains and he continued working the extinguisher until the fire was doused, leaving the charred linen remains. There was a blackened mess on the floor, but fortunately nothing else in the room had caught. Beckett directed Laney to cancel the fire department and she made the call.
Beckett and Levi examined the floor. “Wasn’t an accident, was it?” Levi asked.
Beckett didn’t have to answer. They both knew it wasn’t.
“What in the world happened?” Herm said, standing a few paces away with Laney.
“There.” Levi pointed at a long, slender wooden stick that stuck out from underneath the ruined curtains. “It’s one of those paint-mixing sticks.” The end was charred and blackened. “Someone lit it and shoved it under. Caught the curtains.”
A high-pitched cry sounded behind them. They all whirled to see Rita with her hands to her mouth. She carried a backpack over her shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep. I was reading in the lodge.” The whites of her eyes were wide in the gloom.
“Kenny?” Laney breathed.
Rita didn’t answer, staring into the smoke.
Beckett’s thoughts raced. Kenny had been on hotel grounds? So very close to where Laney slept and he’d chosen to set fire to Rita’s room? The thought both chilled and mystified him.
Rita mouthed something that sounded like, “Pauline was right.” He started to ask when a voice interrupted him.
“Fire’s out?” Beckett turned to see Trent Clouder in civilian clothes, hustling over with an extinguisher.
“Yes,” Beckett said. “Laney canceled the call. Where did you come from?”
He shrugged. “I was on my way home, just finished my shift. I heard over the radio.” He laid a hand on Rita’s forearm. “Are you all right?”
She answered, her gaze still locked on the smoke trickling from her room. “I will be, as soon as I get far away from this town.”
He squeezed gently. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve had a shock. I can drive you to the clinic.”
She hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder and stepped away from his touch. “I’m fine. But I can tell you I’m not sleeping in that room. I’ll be sitting in the lodge until I can get my car and then I’m gone.”
Beckett wanted to press her about the supposed evidence she’d collected from Pauline, but he felt uneasy about bringing it up in front of Clouder. His own feelings puzzled him. Maybe he’d just plain forgotten how to trust
people.
“Police are on their way,” Herm said.
Rita’s mouth tightened. “You all can talk to them. I have nothing to say.”
Clouder’s tone was soothing, the same Beckett had heard him use on accident victims when they’d been on shift together. “This is upsetting, for sure. Why don’t I walk you to the lodge and sit with you for a while?”
“That’s not necessary,” Rita said.
“It’s no problem,” he insisted cheerfully. “I’m a night owl and I’ve got no one waiting for me at home except a goldfish who can’t tell time. Beckett can wait for the long arm of the law.”
“I’ll put the kettle on and make some tea,” Herm said. “And fetch you a blanket. It can be chilly in the wee hours.”
Rita did not look happy, but she returned to the lodge with Herm and Clouder.
Beckett made sure Laney was far enough away from the stench and settled on a chair before he sent Levi to escort Aunt Kitty back home. “Jude will want to talk. I’ll have him call you. No sense standing around here.”
Levi nodded. He walked away a few paces before he turned. “Beck?”
Beckett waited. If his taciturn cousin had something to say, it was important.
“Something’s not right here.” Levi held his gaze for a long moment before he turned and left.
Not right. And it wasn’t merely a vengeful brother.
Pauline was right, Rita had said. About what?
He looked at Laney, who was staring mournfully at the damaged room. He felt the time ticking by, like a burning fuse making its way toward the dynamite.
Figure it out, Beckett. Now.
FOURTEEN
Jude arrived some fifteen minutes later and interviewed Rita before joining them. Both men seemed completely content to stand there in the smoky night until Laney convinced them to return to the cabin, where they sat in the tiny living room. She insisted on fixing decaf coffee, and Jude and Beckett politely sipped the brew. She’d been a disastrous cook when she’d returned to Death Valley after her years in college and working in a Las Vegas hotel. Aunt Kitty taught her the basics, and she could just about manage a pot of coffee, though sometimes she lost count of the scoops. She took one sip and realized she’d done just that, which accounted for the full cups in front of the men. She hoped she’d master more cooking skills by the time the baby arrived. Muffin could not survive on oatmeal-raisin cookies and tamale casserole.
Why had Beckett’s nickname for the baby stuck fast? She brought her wandering thoughts back on track. “What did Rita tell you?”
Jude sighed. “I get nothing from her except the cold shoulder. What do you know?”
Beckett and Laney filled him in on their strange conversation with Rita about Pauline’s possible ulterior motives in coming to Death Valley.
Jude mulled it over. “I’ve looked at Pauline’s file again. Her landlord said she’d told him when she left for Furnace Falls that her intention was to return in five days. She asked him to collect her mail. We went through it. Nothing of note.”
“Cell phone?” Beckett asked.
“None found. Receipts tell us she had one of those pay-as-you-go phones, so we couldn’t trace the number anyway.” He looked toward the courtyard, the lights of the torches glimmering in the distance.
“Rita knows something,” Laney said.
Jude scrubbed a weary hand over his face. “At the moment, I don’t have probable cause to get a search warrant for Rita’s car or belongings. She hasn’t broken any laws, and she isn’t a suspect in Pauline’s murder.”
Beckett flinched, and she knew what he was thinking. No, just him.
Her self-control unraveled. After all that had happened, it seemed to her that each moment was of the essence—there must be no more holding back. She put down her coffee. “Jude,” she said, “you don’t still think Beckett is guilty of Pauline’s murder.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “That’s not what we’re talking about here.”
“Yes, it is. Rita, Pauline’s mysterious mission in Furnace Falls, now this fire... You have to see that there are circumstances behind her death that none of us were aware of.”
Jude toyed with the coffee mug.
Beckett lifted a shoulder. “It’s okay, Laney.”
“No, it’s not,” she snapped. “You are cousins, family. Maybe you take that for granted because you both had blood relatives who raised you, but I don’t. What happened in high school changed you both. It could have brought you closer but instead it ripped you apart. You let it do that. Beckett didn’t kill Pauline, Jude, and you know it.”
Jude opened his mouth, then closed it. Beckett stared at her until her cheeks went hot and there was something soft and sweet in his gaze.
Jude finally spoke. “I think there is reason to believe Beckett was not at fault.”
Laney rolled her eyes, but Beckett broke into a smile.
“That’s good enough for me.”
Jude quirked a smile. “Good, ’cause that’s all you’re going to get for now.”
Laney sighed. It would have to do. “Now we can move on.”
Jude fingered his radio. “I could take another crack at talking to Rita.”
Beckett shook his head. “If you do, she’ll clam up. We may never find out what she knows.”
Laney chewed her lip. “Do you think it was Kenny who started the fire?”
Jude frowned. “Actually, he was spotted at a bar in Beatty two hours ago. That’s where I was before I came here. He’d already gone when I arrived. He could have had time to return and set the fire, or get his uncle to do it, but why would he when...?”
“When he’s got his original target so close by,” Laney finished. “Me.”
Beckett glowered as she told him about the shadow moving across her window. She stalled his complaint. “I know I should have mentioned it before, but it just plain slipped my mind. Besides, maybe it’s paranoia,” she said.
“You should go stay with Aunt Kitty,” Beckett said.
Jude chimed in. “Mom would love to have you.”
“And who is going to help Herm run this place?” she said.
“I will,” Beckett said.
“The last time I left you in charge of the laundry service, the washer exploded and we had suds up and down the hallway.”
“I’ll read the manual this time.”
She shook her head. “I’m staying here. We have a family checking in on Monday.” She held up a finger to silence Beckett and Jude. “If I am a target, I’m safer here with Herm and Levi looking out for me.”
She was gratified to see Jude nod. “She does have a point. Lots more people around here to keep her in their sights.” He got up from the table. “Got work to do. I’ll talk to Clouder and see if he can figure anything out from the burn patterns, and I’ll assign a unit stationed at the entrance for the rest of the night.” He kissed Laney on the cheek. “Stay safe, okay?”
“I will.” She shot him a teasing look. “Sure you don’t want some coffee to go?”
“Uh, no, thank you.”
She laughed and let him out.
Beckett got up from the table. Before she realized what he was up to, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her stomach tensed. She’d allowed him to get too close, opened the door for a deeper connection. Anxiety rolled through her in waves.
“Beckett...”
“That’s a thank-you kiss.”
“To thank me for what?”
“Getting Jude to admit that there might be the slimmest chance that I’m not a murderer after all.” She heard the slight hitch in his voice. “I never thought I would hear him say it.”
Let it be a new beginning, she prayed. Let God shine a light through the crack she’d just witnessed in his self-loathing. Before she could think it through, she reached up and wrapped
her arms around his neck. He went still.
“Do you think...?” he murmured into her neck. “If I can prove I’m innocent, is there a chance we could...?”
She stopped him with a squeeze, head still pressed under his chin. “I’m not sure,” she whispered around a surge of emotion she couldn’t name. What did she want? What was God leading her to? Could her tattered heart survive another crushing disappointment?
He gulped in a breath, pressed another kiss to her temple that lingered, and straightened. “I won’t push. It’s enough for me that you didn’t say flat-out no. I know I hurt you and broke your trust, but if there’s the slightest possibility that I can have a second chance, I will be content with that.”
“I didn’t know you wanted another chance,” she managed. “You were going to leave.”
“I didn’t think I deserved one, but now...”
“Now?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m feeling just reckless enough to ask.”
“Because there’s a baby?”
His eyes roved her face. “You said that I never talk about how I feel, so I’ll say it. The baby is a part of it, yes.”
Of course. The baby. He didn’t want to walk away from his duty as a father. She started to turn away when the flood of tears started. “I don’t want to talk any more about this now.”
“Laney...”
“I’m tired.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Good night.”
He left and she stood there, immobile, Admiral licking her ankle.
Why hadn’t she flat out said there was no future for them? Confusion? She’d not wanted to hurt him?
Or was she too considering a second chance? Maybe he was allowing God to change him in some fundamental way. But God would have to change her in a profound way as well, to overcome the chasm of mistrust in her soul. She would not restart a life with Beckett just because he wanted to be close to the baby.
The conversation twisted round and round in her mind, leaving her unable to sleep. Her stomach called. Ice cream. Nature’s perfect food. She crept out of bed and headed for the mini fridge and freezer where she kept her supply of chocolate ripple. Realizing she had left the shades open, she went to close them, startled to see Beckett laid out on the hard wooden bench, one arm flung over his head in sleep. His tall frame was too long for the furniture, and he had to prop his booted feet on the bench arm.
