by R. C. Ryan
“You want me out there, Jake?”
“I’ll check it out and report in. If you don’t hear from me within the hour, I’d appreciate some backup.”
“You got it, Jake. You stay safe now.”
Jake’s tone was pure ice. “Count on it.”
Chapter Six
Meg. Hey, Meg.”
At the sound of Cory’s frantic whispers, and his hands shoving roughly against her shoulder, Meg jerked awake and sat up in the darkness. “What—?”
At the sound of her voice a small hand clamped over her mouth. “Shh. There’s someone out there. Don’t let him hear you.”
“An intruder?” She sat up, struggling to untangle herself from the blanket.
“I saw him out my window.”
“A man? You saw a man?”
The boy nodded. “Jake said to wake you.”
“Jake?” Her sleep-fogged brain couldn’t seem to wrap around the boy’s words. “Jake’s here, too?”
“I called him.”
“We’re alone here with the intruder?” Now she was up and rushing to the window. “Where is he? I don’t see anyone. Are you sure you saw someone out there?”
“I’m sure. I know what I saw.”
Meg looked around the room. “I need a weapon. Something I can use to defend us.” Spotting the curtains, she pulled down the round wooden rod, testing its weight.
Seeing what she intended, Cory caught her arm. “No. Jake said we should stay here in your room until he comes.”
“What if he doesn’t come?”
“He said he would.” The boy raced across the room and leaned his thin shoulder against the dresser. “Jake said we should block the door so the intruder can’t get in.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to argue, but against her better judgment Meg moved to the other edge of the dresser. Together, pushing, shoving with all their might, they managed to position the heavy dresser against the door.
Then, hearts pounding, faces intent, the two of them pressed their ears to the door, waiting for whatever danger lay just beyond.
Meg crossed to the night table and flipped open her phone, dialing the police chief’s number. In a breathy voice she said, “It’s Meg Stanford here. Cory spotted an intruder.”
“Yes, ma’am. Jake Conway already alerted me. Are you and the boy all right?”
“We’re okay for now. We’re up in my room.”
“That’s good. You stay there. Jake’s on his way. When he gets there, he’ll report in.”
Meg clutched her phone, wondering why the knowledge that Jake was coming gave her a measure of comfort. Still, her heart continued racing like a runaway train.
The agony of having to wait, without knowing who was out there or what he was doing, had her breathing hard and fast. Each minute felt like an eternity.
Jake drove like a madman. As though the very devil himself was after him. When he reached the gravel road that led to the Stanford ranch, he cut the lights on his truck. No sense telegraphing to the intruder that he was coming.
As he approached the house, all his senses went on high alert.
He hoped to hell the guy was still around. After the night he’d put in, Jake was feeling mean and itching for a good knock-down, drag-out fight. He couldn’t think of a more worthy opponent than the creep who had trashed Meg’s car and her father’s office.
As he rounded the corner of the house he saw a sudden movement on the porch. Jake snatched up his rifle and was out of his truck in an instant. He could just make out a man’s figure leaping over the porch railing and racing hell-bent toward the barn.
“Stop right there or you’re a dead man.”
The figure never even paused as it rounded the corner of the first barn and continued on, with Jake in hot pursuit.
The man ahead changed directions and suddenly veered away from the second barn in the distance, choosing instead to plunge headlong into the dense woods.
At the edge of the woods Jake paused to listen. There was no thrashing around. No snapping of twigs or crunching of footsteps. Except for the sounds of night birds and insects, there was no way of knowing where the man had gone. He could be far ahead, racing toward freedom, or hiding nearby with his own weapon, hoping to ambush his pursuer.
With a string of muttered curses, Jake turned and made his way back to the ranch house.
When he climbed the steps to the porch, he found a glass pane shattered and the back door ajar, and could see the pry marks where the intruder had used a heavy bar to force the door open. In his haste, the intruder had dropped the pry bar before fleeing.
Stepping inside, Jake threw on the lights and stepped carefully around the shards of broken glass lying on the kitchen floor. He threw on more lights as he moved through the house and up the stairs to the second-floor bedrooms.
Moving along the upper hallway he called out loudly, “Meg. Cory. It’s Jake Conway. I don’t know which room you’re in, but it’s safe to come out now.”
Up ahead he could hear the sound of something heavy scraping across the floor before a door was thrown open and two frightened faces peered at him.
“You came,” Cory shouted.
“Of course I did. I told you I would.” Jake looked beyond the boy to the young woman who had a hand to her throat, as though forcing herself to breathe in and out. “Are you both okay?”
Meg nodded. “We’re fine now that you’re here. I was so befuddled by sleep, all I could think of was running downstairs until Cory said we had to barricade the door.”
“If you’d gone down, you would have run right into the arms of your intruder.”
“Did you see who it was?”
Jake shook his head. “It was too dark. And I had already cut my headlights, hoping to catch him by surprise. But he heard me coming and made a run for it. I chased him until he disappeared in the woods. Without a flashlight, I didn’t have a chance of catching him there.”
“How did he get here?” Meg stepped closer, now that she knew the intruder was gone. “Did he leave a vehicle behind?”
Jake tried not to stare at the way she was dressed—or rather, barely dressed. The sight of all that pale, smooth flesh had his throat going dry as dust. “I wish he had. Then he’d be easy to track.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how he got here. Maybe he left a vehicle a couple of miles from here and hiked in, so you wouldn’t hear the sound of his engine.”
Meg’s glance settled on the rifle held at Jake’s side. “Would you have used that?”
“Hell yes.” To keep from staring at that sexy little bit of silk she was wearing, he turned away.
Cory trailed behind, while Meg retreated to her room and stepped out a minute later wrapped modestly in her father’s oversize cowhide duster, which fell to her toes.
Jake led the way to the stairs and down to the main floor. Once there he turned to Meg. “I guess you’d better start checking to see if he took anything with him, though I’m pretty sure that I caught him on the way in instead of the way out.”
Meg moved woodenly through the rooms but could find nothing out of place. When they reached her father’s office, Jake paused in the doorway while she and Cory walked around, inspecting drawers and cabinets.
Cory was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and the same dirty T-shirt he’d been wearing all day.
Meg’s feet, the only things now visible beneath her cover-up, were bare, the polished nails a pretty shade of hot pink. The sight of them, so out of place beneath the rough cowhide, had Jake smiling.
After a thorough check, Meg looked up with a shrug of her shoulders. “I can’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
Jake arched a brow. “This room looks a whole lot cleaner than the last time I was in here.”
She smiled. “I guess I’ve inherited my father’s neat gene. I couldn’t rest until I’d cleaned up all the mess. I went through hundreds of documents before filing them in their proper order.”
“You do good work, ma’am.”
Jake’s lips curved into a grin.
“Thanks.” Meg glanced at Cory, who stood across the room, staring out the darkened window. “After I managed to get my brain in gear, I phoned Chief Fletcher to report what Cory had heard. The chief told me that you were on your way.” She couldn’t help smiling. “He made it sound like having Jake Conway coming here was the next best thing to having the cavalry leading the charge.”
“Remind me to thank Everett next time I see him.” Jake’s smile grew. “I guess I’d better let him know what we found.”
He flipped his phone from his shirt pocket and dialed the police chief. At the sound of the chief’s deep voice he said, “Everett? Jake. I saw the intruder, but barely. Under six feet tall, thin, and runs like a damned gazelle, which tells me he’s either an athlete or a hell of a lot younger than me. I lost him in the woods.” Jake listened. “No vehicle here. Could be parked on a road somewhere for a quick escape.” He listened again before saying, “Meg can’t determine if anything’s missing. No. They’re both fine.” He paused. “No need. I’m not going anywhere now. I’m staying put.” He saw Meg’s head come up sharply and added, “Right. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He dropped the cell phone in his pocket before saying, “Why don’t the two of you go on back up to bed? I’m going to hang here until Chief Fletcher comes by in the morning.”
Cory’s eyes grew round. “If you’re staying the night, does that mean you think the bad guy will be back?”
Jake turned to study the boy. “I don’t know. What do you think he’ll do?”
Cory flushed and avoided looking at Jake.
Meg crossed her arms over her chest and chewed on her lower lip. “I hate having you feel as though you have to give up your own comfort for our sake. But…” She glanced at Cory, then at Jake. “But I’m grateful that you’re willing to stay. Right now I’m feeling so jumpy, I doubt I’ll be able to settle down enough to get a minute’s sleep.”
She walked over to where Cory stood. When she started to reach out for him he shrank back. She dropped her hand to her side and kept her tone low and even. “Why don’t you go on up to bed now, Cory?”
He nodded and started toward the door, eager to escape her.
“And Cory…”
The boy paused to glance at her.
“I haven’t had a chance to clear my mind until now. I’m so grateful that you heard the intruder and had the presence of mind to call Jake before you woke me. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d been alone tonight. But I doubt it would have ended so peacefully. Thank you.”
The boy’s eyes went wide. His lips curved into a half smile. “You’re welcome.”
And then he was gone, running out of the room and up the stairs. Minutes later they heard the sound of his bedroom door closing and the creak of his bed.
Meg listened in silence, chewing on her lower lip, a little frown line between her brows. Seeing Jake watching her, she turned away. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee.”
As she headed toward the kitchen, Jake followed. “Sounds good.”
She busied herself at the counter, measuring coffee and water, turning on the coffeemaker. Minutes later the wonderful aroma of coffee brewing filled the room.
Meg removed some of Ela’s corn bread from the refrigerator and dug out a jar of strawberry preserves.
“Here.” She shoved a plate and knife toward Jake. “Help yourself to some of this while I pour us each a cup.”
“Thanks.” He set aside his rifle in a corner of the room before walking to the table and slathering the preserves on several slices. He set the plate in the center of the table, so they could share.
When Meg returned with the coffee, they sat on either side of the ancient table, eating and drinking in silence.
Jake could feel his nerves begin to settle, and he watched as the color returned to Meg’s cheeks. “Feeling better?”
She nodded. “I have to confess. When Cory came flying into my room and woke me from a sound sleep, I couldn’t make any sense out of what he was saying. It was all babble in my brain. But when he insisted that we barricade ourselves in my bedroom until you arrived, I felt this tremendous sense of relief.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t like me to be timid, or to want someone to fight my battles. I’ve always been able to stand up for myself. But ever since I got here I’ve had this uneasy sense that I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole and landed in another universe.”
That had Jake smiling. “I know this isn’t Washington, D.C. But it isn’t some alien landscape, either. You lived here until you were ten. I’m sure after you give yourself some time, you’ll feel better about things.”
“I doubt I have enough time for that. I have a career I’ve put on hold. Clients who expect me to be ready to do battle for them in court. And here I am playing big sister to a kid who hates me, and trying to sort through an inheritance that I don’t deserve.”
“Now how do you figure that?”
She sighed. “You don’t know how ugly things were when my mother and I left here. She told me that my father had disinherited me. That I was no longer his daughter. I was so hurt, I wouldn’t even take his phone calls the few times he tried to talk to me. And as the years dragged on, he quit calling and I was relieved. That way I didn’t have to hate myself so much. I figured he hated me enough for both of us.”
“Hey.” Jake reached across the table and put a hand over hers. “Quit beating yourself up. You were ten. What ten-year-old knows how to deal with issues like divorce and parents who can’t stand each other?”
She glanced at their joined hands before withdrawing hers and clenching it in her lap. “Thanks. But it’s all spilled milk now. And with my father gone, I can’t make it right after all these years.”
“Maybe not.” Jake lowered his voice. “But at least you can understand what Cory is going through.”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong.” She nodded toward the door. “You saw him. He freezes up around me.”
“You’re a stranger. Another adult who will be making decisions about his future. Can you blame him?”
Before she could answer, Jake added, “And remember this. He didn’t freeze up when it counted. He woke you, barricaded your door, and kept you safe until I got here. I’d say that counts for more than his knee-jerk reaction when you try to play nice.”
Meg sighed again. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. Right now, right this minute, I don’t know anything except that I don’t feel safe here. Somebody wants something, and if he would just let me know what it is that he’s so desperate to find, maybe I’d just give it to him and we could all get on with our lives in peace.”
Jake sat back and digested her words.
She looked over at him. “You’re quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“Want to share?”
He shrugged. “Not yet. Maybe later.” He shoved back his chair. “Why don’t you go up to bed?”
“I’m too wired. Would you like to sleep on the sofa?”
He shook his head. “I think I’ll take a turn around the yard.”
“In the dark?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to duck out and leave you and Cory all alone.”
“I wasn’t thinking that. I was worrying that the intruder could be out there right now, watching us. If he sees you coming out in the dark, he might try something desperate.”
Jake picked up his rifle and cradled it in his arms. “If he’s dumb enough or desperate enough to be hanging around, he’ll find more than he bargained for.”
Meg watched as he strode out the door. She listened to the sound of his booted feet on the porch steps.
And then silence settled over the house as she poured herself another cup of coffee and made her way to her father’s office. If she couldn’t sleep, she would take comfort in work.
Jake dug a flashlight out of his truck and made his way in the darkness to the barn. He
tried the door and was pleased to find it padlocked. Apparently Meg had taken Big Jim’s advice to heart and had locked the rental car inside. A good thing, as she probably would have had to deal with more slashed tires, or even more serious damage, had she left it out in the open.
He played the light over the door and noted the pry marks. Apparently the intruder had spent some time trying to break into the barn before moving on to the house. That would explain why he wasn’t inside when Jake arrived.
Jake cursed his timing. He would have found it extremely satisfying to find this thug inside, where he could have confronted him face-to-face. Not to mention the satisfaction he’d have enjoyed by beating him senseless.
He circled the barn before walking back to the house. Along the way he thought again about the vandalism. This was no random act. The intruder seemed focused and determined.
The question was…why?
What could he hope to gain by breaking into a dead man’s house? According to Everett Fletcher, and repeated by all the gossip swirling around town, Porter Stanford’s will had been properly drawn up and filed with Judge Bolton. Porter wasn’t known to keep large sums of money in the house. He wasn’t a collector of valuable coins or jewelry. So what could the motive possibly be?
Jake had a theory that he intended to run by Chief Fletcher before he spoke of it to Meg. There was no sense adding to her burden until he’d given it more thought.
Grim-faced, he climbed the steps and let himself in the back door.
Chapter Seven
Jake made his way along the hallway toward Porter’s office. Finding the door open he paused to study Meg, seated at her father’s desk and reading a document. Every so often she would stop to scribble a notation in the margin before dropping the pen and reading more.
She’d coaxed a fire on the hearth to chase the night chill. Flames leaped and danced, casting her lovely face in light and shadow. A face that was a study in concentration, her eyes steady, her lips pursed in a most enticing way.
Her slender frame was swallowed up in her father’s bulky, faded cowhide coat. Her bare feet tapped a steady rhythm to some inner music. In the glow of the lamplight her hair, tangled from sleep, gleamed like fire, and he found himself itching to touch it.
