On Deadly Ground

by Lauren Nichols

  “Come on,” she grumbled. She gave the leash another tug, then gingerly crossed the stones and climbed the steps behind the now-unconcerned dog. “Back to bed with you. You have the luxury of staying up all night and sleeping all day. I don’t.”

  At least this little foray took care of a question she’d been pondering. No way was she getting a dog of her own. Chronic insomnia was bad enough without having a four-legged nutcase sound the alarm every time a few elk showed up. Nope, no dogs or guns for her.

  Sweat flowed from his pores as he scrambled frantically on the ground, trying to be quiet, feeling one-handed for the keys he’d dropped in the ferns and undergrowth. In the other hand, he gripped the handle of the pick and prayed he wouldn’t have to use it. Where had that dog come from? She didn’t have a dog!

  He touched something cold and mushy in the vegetation—a disgusting slug!—but he kept his hand moving, moving. Then his fingertips bumped his key ring and his heart nearly burst in relief as he snatched it up. Fifty yards away, lights on the elevated side deck still blazed. The inside lights, too.

  Jamming his keys deeply into his jeans pocket, he retrieved the pick, shovel and bag beside him and waited for the house lights to go out. He’d stopped the construction temporarily, but the problem remained. So did he stay or leave? This time, she’d blamed his nosing around on the mutt’s interest in the elk. But if he alerted the dog again, she could call the police, and that could start a more diligent investigation. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed. Swallowed again. Maybe … maybe he was out of options.

  The house went dark.

  Then slowly, painstakingly, he picked his way through the woods to the logging road where he’d concealed his SUV … trembling as an anxious little voice hissed at him, whispered things he doubted he was capable of … murmured that desperate times called for desperate measures. He resisted at first. But in the end, he knew what he had to do. There was only one way to ensure his freedom, and that was to make sure the land stayed as it was. Natural, unspoiled, covered by grass and weeds.

  She wouldn’t need a mini golf course if she was dead.

  The next morning, Rachel smiled as Maggie nosed her dog food dish aside and padded over to the stove where Rachel was frying scrambled eggs.

  “I don’t blame you,” she said, stirring another egg to the pan. “No slumber party I ever went to ended with Kibbles ‘n Bits.” She gestured with her spatula. “Not that you deserve anything better after waking me up last night. But being a nice, Christian woman, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.” In a minute, she filled two plates, put Maggie’s aside to cool, then set hers on the table next to her fruited yogurt and tea. She’d just asked the blessing and picked up her fork when the phone rang.

  Rachel strode to the phone to check the caller ID and could tell by the number that it was a cell phone call. She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “So how did the slumber party go? Did she make a pest of herself or did she behave?”

  The sound of his voice brought a smile to her lips and a little leap to her pulse. “We had a very nice evening. Your girl was a perfect lady. Although I have to tell you, she’s not much of a conversationalist, and she really doesn’t like the local wapiti.”

  “She barked at the elk?”

  “She did, and she wasn’t shy about it. They couldn’t have cared less, though. They just went about their business.”

  “That’s surprising,” he returned. “She’s flighty sometimes, but she usually ignores the elk.”

  “Maybe she didn’t appreciate their being so close to the house.” Rachel laughed. “Or maybe she’s just on edge because of the P-R-O-W-L-E-R. Anyway, she was great company. We were just about to have breakfast.”

  “Then I won’t keep you,” he said, and her spirits fell. “I’ll pick Maggie up around five or six, depending on construction traffic. It’s a real mess down here.”

  Rachel smiled against the receiver. “Okay. See you then. Travel safely.”

  “Yep, see you.”

  She’d just settled at the table again when two honks and the sound of an approaching vehicle drew a sharp bark from Maggie. Rachel sighed. Obviously, God thought she liked cold eggs.

  “Sorry, girl,” she said, heading outside with Maggie trailing. “It’s not him. He can’t be in two places at once.”

  A shiny black truck with a gun rack in the back window rolled down the drive and came to a stop. Tammy Reston got out, carrying a hefty package. Tammy was a pretty blonde with the long, teased and sprayed hair of a country singer, dancer’s legs and—according to the bumper sticker on her truck—a proud member of the NRA. Her camouflage skirt, tank top and cropped vest seemed to bear that out. Tammy ran Charity’s sporting goods store, had a sideline parcel delivery business and sold more blue-ribbon pies out of her backroom kitchen than the bakery did.

  Rachel descended the steps to meet her.

  “Hey, Rachel,” Tammy said. “Got a package for you.”

  “Thanks. It’s probably my new microwave for the store. But you didn’t have to deliver it.” Usually Tammy sent a postcard letting her know a package had arrived. “I could have picked it up when I went to town for my mail.”

  “Nah. I have a package for your gorgeous neighbor down the road, too, so I was going to be in the area anyway.” She spotted Maggie then, and added wryly, “But he’s not at home is he?”

  Rachel hid a smile. That certainly answered her question about special deliveries. “He had a meeting.”

  “Probably just as well,” Tammy replied, laughing. “It’s hard to go home to meat loaf when you’ve had a peek at ambrosia.”

  This time Rachel did smile. “Now, now. Your Joe’s a nice-looking guy.”

  “But he’s not Jake, is he?” She looked away and got quiet for a moment, then turned back to Rachel. “I think Joe’s fooling around again.”

  Stunned that she’d share such personal information, Rachel remained silent.

  “Come on,” she said quietly. “You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.”

  A few years ago, yes, but Rachel hadn’t heard anything lately. “Why do you think he’s seeing someone, Tammy?”

  “Because he didn’t come home a couple of nights ago. He said he went out with the guys after bowling and knew I’d be mad, so he crashed down here at our camp.” She drew a breath. “Then last night, I ran into Ellie Sennett at the Quick Mart, and she mentioned that her boyfriend had subbed for Joe Sunday night. Did you see his truck down here? It’s a dark gray Silverado.”

  Sunday night? The same night someone vandalized Tim’s bulldozer? Could there be a connection? “Tammy, I’m more than a hundred yards off the highway. Unless someone drives down here, or I’m out walking the road, I rarely see anyone. Especially at night.”

  “You’d tell me if you had?”

  She couldn’t lie. She didn’t involve herself in other people’s business. It was tough enough to handle her own sometimes. “I don’t know.”

  Tammy seemed to consider that, then nodded and moved toward her truck. “I checked the camp. Someone was definitely inside since I was there last. Things had been moved around. Maybe it was Joe. But I can’t get past the lie he—” She shook off the rest of it, then opened the door and changed the subject. “If you want pies again this year, give me a call.”

  “I do,” Rachel replied. “Let’s go with last year’s weekly numbers—same kinds. Can you deliver them on the Thursday before Memorial Day weekend? I’m not sure what the date is.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll make a note of it.” She sent Rachel an apologetic look. “And sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you with my problems.”

  Rachel waited until Tammy was gone, then strode back inside to reheat her cold eggs and put Maggie’s on the floor. Her mind spun. Was it Joe Reston she’d seen Sunday night? And should she give that information to Chief Perris? She hadn’t heard that there’d been trouble between Joe and Tim Decker … but then, she hadn’t heard that Joe was wander
ing again either.

  Something else occurred to her. What if she dragged Joe into this and he was innocent of the vandalism but guilty of something else? If he had to supply an alibi and that alibi was female, then Tammy would be hurt. Even though Tammy was an acquaintance, not a close friend, she didn’t want that to happen.

  The microwave beeped, and Rachel removed her plate and carried it to the table. She couldn’t make this decision alone. She needed to discuss it with someone she could trust, someone who’d be discreet. She glanced at Maggie. Someone who wasn’t wearing a collar and a fur coat.

  Just after five o’clock, Maggie jumped up from her dozing position on the bathhouse floor and bolted for the exit, whining to be let out. A second later, the sound of a familiar truck reached Rachel’s ears. She put down her paintbrush. Apparently, Jake had found the note she’d taped to the camp store telling him where they’d be.

  “Okay, girl,” she said, opening the door. “Go to it. I’ll bet he missed you, too.”

  The chuckles and yelping outside went on for a half minute while Rachel replaced the paint can’s lid and rinsed her brush. Then Jake came to the door, and she felt that tingle again. She liked the way his collarless knit shirt clung to his shoulders and biceps. Burgundy was definitely his color. It complemented his year-round tan.

  “Hi. How did your meeting go?”

  He smiled. “Like most of them. Some issues were resolved, others were tabled. Have you had dinner?”

  “No, but Maggie and I were thinking about grilling hamburgers. I’m afraid she’s lost that loving feeling for her dog food.”

  “No surprise there,” he said, grinning. “She thinks she’s human.” He paused. “Getting back to food, how about something easier than hamburgers?”

  Rachel laughed. “Like what? Cold cereal?”

  “No, you kept Maggie safe from the boogeyman last night, and I want to thank you with dinner. Nothing fancy, just chicken at the diner and maybe some ice cream for dessert.”

  For a long, uneasy moment, Rachel stood silently, a lump in her throat. She wanted to say yes. She did. Jake was a good man, and everything about him lately seemed to make her … react. But somewhere in her mind and heart, the part of her that would always love David still ached when she considered moving on with that “other” aspect of her life.

  She was saved from trying to explain when his expression darkened and he got the message.

  “Then again,” he said coolly, “maybe dinner in town isn’t a good idea. After all, people would see us together, and they might make assumptions. The way gossip spreads around here, it would take weeks to set everyone straight.” He paused. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

  A tidal wave of remorse hit her. “Jake, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It’s not—” How did she say this without sounding positively horrible? “It’s not as though I don’t want to be seen with you, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re friends.” But while having coffee or lunch with a vital, good-looking man seemed incidental, having dinner was significant. “I haven’t been to dinner with a man since—” She stopped before she said David’s name and sighed.

  She wasn’t totally clueless. She knew something was happening between them, but she also knew that she wasn’t ready yet. “Will you and Maggie stay for hamburgers and macaroni salad?” she asked gently. “I’d really like that. Besides, there’s something I’d like to talk over with you.”

  He waited for her to go on.

  “Tammy Reston came by to deliver a package this morning and said something that could be important. It might be connected to Tim’s trouble.”

  It took Jake so long to reply that she thought he’d refuse. Finally, he nodded and said, “Sure. Maggie and I would like to stay.” But the warmth in his dark eyes seemed to have dimmed at the same rate as the joy in her heart.

  FOUR

  Irritated with himself, Jake roared up his long gravel driveway, ground to a stop beside his log home and cut his vehicle’s engine. If there was anything he hated, it was pretending to be happy. He wasn’t any good at it, and it made his stomach feel like a bag of rocks. His only consolation was Rachel had done her share of pretending, too—and she wasn’t any better at it than he was. He would have ducked out and headed for home a lot sooner if not for their discussion about Tammy and Joe Reston.

  Snatching his duffle bag from the backseat, he climbed out of his truck, slammed the door behind him and stalked up the gravel path to his porch. He was halfway there when he realized he’d left something behind. Scowling, he retraced his steps, let Maggie out and took the path to the house again.

  Why are you so wired? a nagging voice said. You knew how she felt about dating. Over the past six months, she’s let you know she’s still grieving in a dozen different ways. Besides, you’re not looking for an involvement, right?

  “That’s right,” Jake muttered, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “I’m not.” And it wasn’t a date, he grumbled silently. It was just some quick thank-you food she didn’t have to cook herself. What was the big deal about that?

  He dropped his duffle on a brown leather armchair that matched his sofa and looked fairly decent with the wood lamps on his tables. Then he continued into his home office to check his phone messages and see if Outdoor Club adviser Alex Liston had gotten back to him about the club’s field trip Thursday. Hopefully, they’d find a few elk calves to process. Elk mothers were good at hiding their offspring.

  The red light was blinking.

  Jabbing the play button, Jake dropped into the swivel chair in front of his computer hutch. He had two messages. The first call was from his mother—a follow-up call after Julie’s visit to her doctor.

  “Hi, honey, it’s official!” she sang happily. “You’re going to be an uncle. Greg and Julie are due at the end of the year. Maybe we’ll have a Christmas baby.” There was a slight pause—unusual for her because she generally spoke rapid-fire. “Where are you? You’re never home. Pick up if you’re there.” She waited a few seconds, then gave up. “Okay, love you. Hope you’re having a good day.”

  Oh, yeah. He was having a peachy day.

  After a beep, the second message played. “Jake, it’s Alex Liston at the middle school. We’ll have fifteen students for the field trip. The kids know they’ll need a packed lunch, and all of the permission slips are in, so we’re a go. Looking forward to seeing you Thursday morning at nine.”

  Well, that plan had worked out at least.

  Jake glanced at his watch, saw that it was barely seven-ten, then returned his mother’s call and phoned his brother and sister-in-law with his congratulations. He was glad for Greg and Julie, but his happiness for them was tempered by a touch of what-might-have-been. Their mom had always been pretty good at getting what she wanted from her sons, and after a few good-natured back and forths, he and Greg had agreed to a double-wedding ceremony with both couples promising to love, honor and cherish at the same time. Obviously, only one couple had made it to the altar last November. Now he couldn’t help thinking that if Heather’d had a passing interest in fidelity, they might have had a child on the way, too. Unfortunately, Heather’s interests had been elsewhere.

  “Come on, Maggie,” he said, abruptly pushing to his feet. “Let’s go fill the bird feeders.” He didn’t need to go over his notes for the lecture portion of the field trip. He’d given it dozens of times when he’d lived and worked in Potter County. What he needed was to concentrate on something else.

  Dutifully, Maggie padded behind him to his screened-in back porch. In a corner, near a couple of weathered Adirondack chairs that had come with the house, sat a forty-pound bag of black oil sunflower seeds. Reaching inside, he used the scoop to fill a pail, then took both outside and got to work. A jittery nuthatch took off as he approached the feeders—and his traitorous dog did the same. Not that he blamed her. He wasn’t the best company this evening.

  He forced himself to think about Joe Reston. He knew the man s
lightly. Last month, Reston and a handful of concerned citizens had met with him to complain about last year’s crop damage by the elk. Reston was a hothead, but as he’d told Rachel, that didn’t make him a suspect unless there was bad blood between Reston and Tim Decker. And if the two men were on the outs, Reston’s would have been the first name Tim offered when the chief asked if he had any enemies. He was glad when Rachel agreed he was right. After seeing the chief in action yesterday, Jake suspected that Perris would have considered any “help” from Rachel an affront to his capabilities, and would have shown her the door pronto.

  He was midway through filling the feeders when his phone rang. Putting down the bucket, Jake strode back to the house and answered it on the fifth ring. He picked up just before his answering machine clicked on.

  “Hi, it’s me,” a soft voice said after his “hello.” “I can’t stop thinking about tonight. Is everything okay between us?”

  Us? There was no us. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.

  “Because you were upset when you left. I know you tried to hide it, but we’ve known each other for a while now, and I can tell when something’s bothering you. Do we—Do we need to talk about my turning down your dinner invitation?”

  And give him the opportunity to say what he’d been thinking for the past month? I know David was a nice guy, and you loved him, but I’m tired of hearing about your late-husband every forty-five minutes. Yeah, that would be classy—especially because he had no ties on her and didn’t want any. Jake drew a breath, then let it out. If pretending to be happy was number one on his hate-to-do list, uneasy conversations ran a close second. He could go toe-to-toe with any man, had no problem getting down and dirty with thugs and never flinched when he had to draw his sidearm. But Rachel was another matter.