Dolly said, “You're good. Did you take classes?”
“I—” No woman wants to hear about your sorry past. “I doodle in what little spare time I have.”
When they finished the storytelling, John asked a relaxed Finn, “What do you think that noise was you heard at the cabin? Was it somebody huffing and puffing like the wolf?”
Finn went quiet. Dolly gave John a sharp look.
Finn muttered, “He had big footsteps.”
“Like how?”
“They went ‘boom, boom, boom’ behind me.”
“Did the person say anything?”
Finn shook his head. “It was a bear. Black and hairy. Really tall. Growling. I don't like bears.”
John got up to filch in his pocket for a couple of dollars. He sent Finn to buy a cone in the Jingle Bell Inn.
“He had that same reaction about bears when I first met you. This is definitely a lead. But ‘black and hairy’ could be anybody dressed in a dark winter coat with fur around the hood.”
Dolly jumped up and hugged him. “But it means my son is innocent. Thanks, John Hall. I need ice cream, too.” She pecked him on the cheek before hurrying out.
He felt the oddest thing in his bones: Light? Happy? It wouldn't last. It never did. Nightmares, tremors, headaches—they all came back. Damn that Peter. Cows are perfectly good company. If not happy, I'm at least content on my ranch.
“You talking to yourself?” Dolly had popped her head in the door.
Think fast, you egghead, talking to yourself about cows because you're afraid of this woman. “Trying to decide on what flavor I want.”
“That's what I came back to ask. I'm getting blue moon.” She smiled, waiting.
He told himself it was just ice cream they were sharing. “Me, too. Can't find it in Montana.”
She shot away. He limped after her.
* * * *
To get away from the confusing feelings bunching up inside him, John drove to Duluth to track down Randy Mellen, Crystal's ex.
The dentist stepped outside his office with John. “Crystal trying to get back at me?”
“You dated other women on her, so maybe she is. Who you dating now? She ever meet Peter LeBarron?”
“Of course. We went to Moonstone for the Christmas celebrations. It's quaint shit women like. We saw old Henri and his child bride take their sleigh ride with Crystal's Rudolph.”
“What's your girlfriend's name? Have a picture?”
Randy dug out a photo. “Ava Wallace.”
Her looks startled John. She had long, black hair.
“We split a week ago,” Randy said.
“Why?”
“She caught me with another woman and trashed the woman's car. My name got dragged into the paper.”
“Would she trash anything of Crystal's just to mess with you?”
“She could. Maybe even Crystal. Ava sure licked her lips over Peter's good looks.”
“And money?”
“Not sure. She strips at a gentleman's club. She's got to pay for that car she trashed.”
John's inner alarm went off bigtime. “Ava moving to Moonstone?”
“She called the place magical.”
“How about the North Pole?”
“She'd love to see the inside. And live there.”
* * * *
John returned to Moonstone shaking his head. Ava certainly warranted suspicion. Jealousy was often the root of criminal actions.
He checked out the Durkins next. After Grant Durkin realized John was a friend of Crystal's, he told John to get his ass off his porch unless he had a warrant. From inside the house John heard a woman screaming at somebody to shut off the television. John's heart lurched. He suspected the little boy was on the receiving end of the woman's harsh tongue. John would talk with Deputy Schuster about having a county social worker pay a visit.
Back in his car, he called the ranch to check on things. Two cowhands had quit just as they were readying for the spring cattle drive.
John hauled his crappy mood and growling belly into the North Pole and upstairs for a snack. His burdens lightened at the sight of Dolly and Finn with Leonard making oatmeal cookies.
Finn said, “I'm gonna help take them out of the oven.”
“You will do no such thing, young man,” Leonard said, putting the sheet of dough balls in.
Flour speckled the floor and Finn. To save poor Leonard, John suggested Dolly and Finn go say good night to Peter's neighbor who had a hunting dog and seven new puppies—provided he kept his distance.
John sauntered to the oak table lined with hot oatmeal cookies on paper towels. “What's it going to be like when Felicity has her baby? The little tike screaming for a bottle? You changing diapers?”
“We are hoping for a girl, a very quiet one,” Leonard heaved out. “And no, I do not do diapers.”
“Did you know Crystal and Peter lost a baby?”
“Of course. They should not be out in that filthy barn at this time of grief. If you're a friend, you must convince Peter to return to where he belongs.”
“So he can sit around amid glass animals?”
Leonard gasped. “Glass? Those are Steubens, a collection to be handed down to Peter when he marries.”
“He is married.”
“An elopement is not a wedding.”
“So you like big shindigs.”
“The LeBarrons need good memories. Memories are the basis of a family. I enjoy building memories for this family.”
“You don't have one of your own?”
“No. And you?”
“Only distant relatives. It's pretty much just me.”
“The very circumstances for Peter for a long time. Until he reconciled with his father. We were relieved to have the boy home.” He started a new sheet of cookies.
“I need your help, Leonard. For Peter.”
“Of course. What might I do?”
“It seems the arsonist might be somebody who looks like a black bear.” Leonard's puzzled look made John laugh. “Finn saw somebody like that the night of the fire. Who do you know around Moonstone like that?”
“Bears break into sheds around here frequently. Perhaps a real bear did the awful mischief?”
Possibly. Bears were strong. One whack at a gas can could puncture and explode it. Far-fetched, but possible.
“Finn said the thing was tall. Bears aren't usually standing on their hind legs when they're foraging about.”
“Well then. Tall and hairy might describe any number of high school boys with their scraggly hair and trendy whiskers.”
“But would high schoolers do such a nasty thing?”
“You must have heard about the boys who burned down churches just so they could watch the firefighters put it out? Maybe the boys wore costumes.”
John sighed. “It'd be a relief if that's what happened. I hate to think somebody wanted to murder Crystal.”
Leonard dropped his spoon into the cookie bowl. “Murder? Nobody would want to do that. Not around Moonstone.”
Loud clunking made both men flip their attention to the doorway. Finn's small feet were inside a grownup's shoes.
“Back so soon?” John asked.
“The puppieth were thleepin'.”
Leonard strode over. He looked down his aquiline nose at the boy. “I just cleaned those for Peter. Could you please remove your person from them?”
Finn sneezed. John saw the spray make a direct hit on Leonard's pants legs. Finn climbed out of the shoes and ran off amid shrieks of laughter.
John sucked back a chuckle. “I'll take Finn to his bedroom while you change your pants.”
“Indeed,” Leonard said, scowling.
~—~—~—~ ~
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* * *
Chapter 7
By Friday morning John knew it was time to leave for Montana. The mystery was solved. If teens had caused the fire, the deputy would round them up fast. He called Peter about t
he theory, which added to Peter's good mood. Crystal had announced she was well enough to return to teaching next week. Normalcy was returning. And John had to forget about Dolly. Here he was again, falling fast for a woman and her kid.
After enjoying one of Leonard's omelets, John limped down the hallway. When he got to Dolly's bedroom door he heard her humming, obviously happy, just like Finn. Somehow their happiness rendered him lonely. But he reasoned that's how he felt every time he finished a job. He liked rooting out causes of fires, needed to do it, actually, but when it was over the let-down hit him hard.
To shake off the blues, John hiked across Moonstone's square to the IGA grocery, a loose end. The manager, Margie, a plump, giggling woman flashing a huge diamond ring, told him a woman with long, black hair bought matches recently.
The expected answer startled him. “She have a boy with her?”
“I didn't see one. Maybe he was in another aisle.”
John left cursing under his breath about another loose end he hadn't expected. Was it Ava? Or Dolly? He forced himself to go out to the farm to report it to Peter. But when he got there, Peter and Crystal weren't around. He decided to say a last howdy to the animals.
Inside the barn's alleyway, he breathed in the perfume of hay, old wood, and animal manure. The smells made him homesick.
He stepped out the door—
And was whacked across the back of his head. Fireworks sprayed behind his eyeballs. A distinctive “ping” registered in his ears. Then his face smacked into the mud.
* * * *
John looked up at Peter who was saying through a fog, “I'm taking you to Duluth.”
With Peter's help, John sat up and spat out gravel and blood. He looked for teeth. “No. I was just in Duluth.”
“You're delirious. Your head's bloodied and you need stitches.”
John's eyes crossed. “This is good.”
“That somebody tried to kill you?”
“That I almost caught your arsonist red-handed. What time is it?”
Peter helped him up. “Around eleven.”
Two hours had passed. The perpetrator was long gone. “I heard a ping, like aluminum.”
Peter found a shovel tossed aside. “We usually use it for grain, not heads.”
Certainly a teenager could handle the light-weight barn shovel. John hobbled inside the barn.
Peter steadied him. “Now what?”
The lineup of forks and a crowbar made John swallow hard. “Whoever it was could've easily finished me off if they'd wanted to.”
“So this was a warning?”
“Or maybe somebody wanted me to think a woman did this. Women get queasy and run before the deed is done.”
“You're keeping Dolly on the list?”
“No. But Ava moved to the top.”
“Who's Ava?”
“Your dentist friend's ex-girlfriend. She might have her sights set on you. She'll probably give ya a call for bail sometime.”
“That's a comforting thought.”
After cleaning up, John insisted on driving himself to see Deputy Schuster. Lily felt strongly the culprits were high school boys.
“Last Halloween some boys staged a fake car accident not too far from the farm. They used a dummy and a junkyard car. The school principal might have heard some scuttle-butt that can help us.”
John went over to the school to talk with Inez Waterman, a weary woman with frizzy hair. She revealed Heath Helgeson had a crush on Mrs. Crystal Hagan LeBarron.
“He wouldn't do anything stupid, would he, because she got married?”
“You know how it is in schools during April and May. Even Crystal's first graders are going wild.”
“First graders?” He thought of Finn running away all the time.
“I subbed this morning. I had erasers tossed at me, two girls eating pages from books, and I refereed a farting contest.”
John chuckled and left. He found Heath Helgeson at home, skipping school to work on a motorcycle. The kid wore a dark parka with fur around the hood. He smoked a cigarette.
“What ya been doin’ in your spare time lately? Like last Sunday night?” John showed his lawman credentials.
The teenager paled. “Riding around with the guys. We didn't burn down the teacher's house.”
“But maybe you roared your engines out there and tossed a cigarette away? It caused a fire?”
“No way. Honest.” Heath tossed his cigarette to the cement floor and snuffed it under his boot, which John thought could sport the tread he'd found.
Later, at the North Pole, John walked into the den, tossed his Stetson onto a chair, then eased his sore head back on the loveseat.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dolly appeared with a tray.
He wanted to run. But the scent of tomato soup and a toasted cheese sandwich weakened him. He kept forgetting to eat regular meals when he was on a case. She looked delicious, too, in a simple white shirt, blue jeans and bare feet.
“You been cooking?” he asked, hating himself for the small talk.
“Afternoon snack. You brought me breakfast yesterday, so I thought I could pay you back today. Where do you want it?”
“The desk.”
“That's no fun.”
“I'll eat standing up.”
“How about the floor? A picnic?”
“No!” He damned his harshness. “Sorry. I ... I can't get down on the floor all that easily.”
“Arthritis? All those bucking broncos?”
“You make me sound old.”
“I didn't mean it that way. Come on, let's picnic.”
“I can't get down on the floor because it's too damn hard to get back up.” Oh crap.
“Why?”
Tired, fed up, he fumbled to unbuckle his belt. He pushed down his denims.
“Nice boxers,” she said.
“Not everything is ‘nice'. Look at my leg. My damn leg.”
Dolly took in his prosthetic left leg. “I'm sorry.”
They held each other's gaze. He pulled his pants back up and barely got his belt buckled because his hands were shaking so hard. He stuffed them in his pockets, hoping she didn't notice.
“How'd it happen?”
“Afghanistan.”
“No, I mean, how did it really happen?” She held her ground with the tray the same way she'd held the rifle on him.
“A woman and her kid drew me into a crossfire.”
“Do I look like her?”
His heart banged against his ribcage. He looked away.
“Did she bring you tomato soup and sandwiches, too?”
“Bombs and bullets.”
Her gray eyes had a smoky calm. “You loved her?”
“I ... it's not important. But...”
“But?” The soup didn't even waver in the bowl. How could she be that steady when he was a mass of vibrations?
“Peter said I had to start telling women about it on my first date.” He turned away, raking his hair with a hand. “I can't do this, Dolly. Go away.”
“We'll eat out in the foyer. More fitting for a first date.”
“We're not dating.”
“Fine. We'll date this once then I'll break up with you right afterward. Come on.”
Dolly pulled an 18th-century table away from a wall. She nestled it in the middle of the foyer. The chandelier sparkled from above. She found two brocaded chairs that looked like they had belonged to European royalty. She set out the soup and sandwiches on the priceless table's wood surface.
“Sit,” she said with one of her smug smiles.
He complied. “Leonard's going to kill you for eating on this antique.”
She leaned across the table, picked up one half of his sandwich, dunked it into the tomato soup, then took a bite. “Leonard can go to hell.”
He couldn't help himself. He chuckled. She was doing it again—giving him a recess from life. “You're right. What can he possibly do to us? Kick us out? We'll be leaving soon.”
&
nbsp; “Where're you going when your job's done here?” She dunked the sandwich in the soup again, this time reaching across the table to offer him a bite.
He took it, wanting to take her fingers into his mouth. “My Montana ranch.”
“Sounds like a perfect place to hide out from my soon-to-be ex.”
John froze. “You're not coming to the ranch.”
“Because you haven't invited me. Invite me.”
“It's a ranch, not a country club.”
“Finn and I can learn to ride horses. It's not like I'm proposing to you.”
“You better not.” He sweated.
“You're safe. It's not like you love me. You found me is all. I guess I was wondering if maybe you'd be nice enough to put us up for awhile.”
The sandwich caught in his throat. He hid his hands in his lap. He was trapped ... by a woman he was beginning to care about too much. And had to reject.
“John, something's wrong. It's okay to tell me.” She reached out, making him show his hands. She laced her fingers through his. “Tell me about Afghanistan.”
His brain balked like a bronc trying to spit out his bit. But her gaze never even dipped to look at his shaky hands. He was going to burst.
“I tried to get her and her boy out. I thought I could save them because love could do that. She loved me, she said. But when we went to get her under the cover of darkness, she blew herself up and took out two of my buddies and my leg.”
Dolly's elbow caught the bowl. Red tomato soup splashed across the antique table. She ignored it, still hanging on. “John, I'm sorry. What about her little boy?”
“He was gone. Nowhere to be found.”
“Then you have some solace that he's alive.”
His heartbeat thundered, overwhelming him like a stampede. “Dolly, you don't understand. They would use kids sometimes.”
“For bombs?” she whispered, her face ghostly white. “But that's only your fear, right? You don't know for sure.”
“He trusted me and I got his mother killed. Those are the facts. Why didn't I leave her alone? That might have saved her. Instead, she could see my feelings for her and she used them. Stupid.” He pulled his hands back from her touch.
“You have a soft heart.”
“A soft brain.” John drew in a shuddering breath.
Men Of Moonstone Series Page 4
