“Did your dad ‘get it'?”
“If you mean, was he upset when I didn’t come aboard after college, no.” Jake tossed the last pebble, then dusted his hands and turned back to her. “He understood that I needed to do what made me happy—although that’s probably because he does have a son at the business. My brother, Greg, and his wife both work at Prestige.”
Rachel remained silent, still trying to wrap her mind around Jake’s life. They’d known each other for six months and he’d never mentioned that his family was wealthy—and by extension, that he was, too. She wouldn’t have guessed that from the simple way he lived.
“When Heather finally realized where we’d be living, who our friends would be and, more importantly, that we wouldn’t be jetting off to Europe or the Bahamas a dozen times a year, her interest shifted. Mark—her boss—had always had a thing for her. But I trusted her, and he was married.” He shrugged. “I guess she got tired of living vicariously through her clients. She slept with Mark, he bought her a black Corvette and I said adios.”
Rachel spoke softly. “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry.”
He looked at her, his gaze grim. “Yeah. For a while, I was one flat tire and an old dog shy of a country song. Now she wants to visit me.”
“Does she …?” Rachel drew a breath, startled by the sudden racing of her heart. “Does she want you back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want her back?”
He couldn’t have sounded more certain. “Absolutely not.”
Still … he’d been thrown by that phone call, and when she’d asked how he felt about Heather visiting, he’d been vague.
Late that night, once again unable to sleep, Rachel stared at the ceiling from her bed at the Blackberry. And she and her fluttering stomach wondered if there was still unfinished business between Jake and the woman who’d betrayed him.
Her stomach didn’t feel much better after the fire marshal visited her the next day. He stayed only long enough to deliver disturbing news that no one should hear on a sunny Sunday morning. Then he left her in Chief Lon Perris’s hands.
Rachel sank to the sofa on Jenna’s porch, her knees suddenly weak. Behind her, Jenna squeezed Rachel’s shoulder.
“Arson?” Rachel said in a barely audible voice. She met Chief Perris’s steely gaze. “You’re absolutely certain?”
Perris glanced beyond the Blackberry’s porch to the parking area where a state police cruiser was just pulling out. In Pennsylvania, the fire marshal was a state police officer. “It’s not my job or expertise to be certain.” He nodded at the car. “But it is his, and he says it was an accelerant fire. We need to talk about that because it’s obvious from the circumstances that someone wants you dead.”
Chills drizzled through her. “Who?”
“That’s what we have to figure out. Do you know of anyone who might want to do you harm? Enemies—past or present—who have a problem with you?”
“No,” she said numbly. “I—I don’t have enemies.”
Perris pressed on. “A disgruntled campground guest? A vendor? Someone you turned away because of prior bad behavior?”
Rachel shook her head. She got along with everyone, and she’d never had occasion to ask any of her campers to leave. “No. No, there’s no one.”
“There has to be. Think. Even the most innocent remark or trivial occurrence could set off the wrong person.”
Rachel released a shaky sigh. “Look, would you like me to make up something? Because that’s the only way you’re going to get a name from me.”
Jenna moved around the sofa to face Perris, her brow lining. “You need to know something about Rachel. She’s the closest thing we have in Charity to a saint.”
“Jen, please.”
“Hush. It’s the truth.” She spoke to the chief again. “She goes to church, she helps out at the nursing home—despite the fact that she has more than enough work of her own to do—and she’s the first in line to volunteer when a friend or neighbor needs a hand. If someone wants to hurt her—”
“There is no if,” Perris said. “It’s a sure thing.”
“Then it’s someone neither of us knows,” Jenna stated emphatically. “Maybe the fire was random. Maybe—”
“That’s highly unlikely, but I’m not ruling anything out.” He directed his remarks to Rachel again. “In the meantime, it would be best if you kept your stay here a secret.”
She would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so grave. “A secret in Charity? There are no secrets in Charity. I suspect Hector at the post office has already filled out a change of address card for me to sign.”
“Then I suggest that you limit your wanderings and keep thinking about people you might have offended, because there is someone out there.”
Rachel got to her feet. “I can’t stay here forever. My campground will be opening soon, and there’s still work to be done.”
Perris responded sharply. “Then you’d better hire some security because we don’t know who this monkey is or what motivates him. If the person who torched your house is the same man you saw last Sunday night, he’s got an agenda and he’s dedicated. Do you know what I mean by dedicated?”
She nodded. “He won’t stop.”
“That’s right.”
Jenna touched her arm. “I think hiring a couple of men to keep an eye on the campground is a very good idea. In fact, Joe Reston came by yesterday to see if I needed help. He and a few others were laid off at the lumber mill Friday, and he’s looking for work until things pick up.” She paused to make a point. “He’s big and he’s intimidating.”
True, Rachel thought. He was also the first man she’d considered while trying to put a face on her intruder.
A dark blue Ram truck sped up the drive and parked next to Perris’s prowl car. Seconds later, Jake got out and walked toward the porch. Rachel’s thankful heart leaped. The cavalry had arrived. Not a whole troop. Just one man in jeans, boots and a chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled back over his muscular forearms. A man who made her feel safe just by being here.
Jenna spoke quietly. “He asked me to call him as soon as you heard the fire marshal’s findings. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Rachel nodded. She didn’t mind at all.
Jake took the steps to the wide wraparound porch, his expression lined. After nodding to Perris, he thanked Jenna for calling and met Rachel’s eyes. “Are you okay?”
“As okay as anyone would be after making a firebug’s hit list.”
Mouth thinning, Perris turned to Jake. “Convince her to lay low for a while. I can have an officer drive by here more often, but the department’s too small for much more than that.” He cut a look at Rachel. “Call the station if anything unusual happens or if you come up with a name for me. I’ll contact you when I have something to report.”
Rachel nodded and expressed her thanks, glad to be on friendlier terms with the man. Well … if not friendlier, at least tolerable terms.
When the chief had gone and Jenna had stepped inside to dress for church, Jake spoke somberly. “I hope you’re not taking this as lightly as it sounded—or as lightly as Perris thinks you are.”
“I’m not. I’m scared. I just don’t see much value in running around, wringing my hands.”
“Good. Then you will sit tight?”
Rachel hesitated. She’d been turning things around in her mind ever since the fire marshal had given her the verdict, and she’d come up with several undeniable facts. None of which allowed her to “sit tight,” no matter how frightened she was. She indicated the sweat pants and T-shirt she wore, clothes she’d pulled from her dryer the night of the fire. “Can we talk about this later? I need to get dressed for church.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re going to church?”
“It’s Sunday. I go to church on Sundays.”
“This isn’t about your faith, Rachel,” he said, his frustration evident. “It’s about your safety.”
She swallowed, believing the words she was about to say, though she wasn’t crazy about the prospect. “None of us leaves this world until God says it’s time to go. If He decides it’s my time, locking doors and hiding here at Jenna’s won’t do me any good.”
Jake’s mood didn’t improve with her rationale. “That doesn’t mean you have to deliberately put yourself in harm’s way. I thought the Lord helped those who help themselves. Or don’t you agree?”
“I do, but I need to be in church today, Jake. I need to. No one’s going to hurt me there.”
He seemed to consider that for a long moment, then nodded. But his stoic look and the gravity in his eyes told her he didn’t like her decision. “What time’s the service?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
“Then you’d better get moving,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch. “It’s already ten-twenty-five.”
An hour and a half later, Rachel shook hands with Reverend Landers and followed Jenna and a friend of hers out of St. John’s Church. Dressed in his collar and Sunday blacks, Landers was a warm, elderly man with white hair, a bit of a potbelly and kind blue eyes behind rimless bifocals. Inside, Emma Lucille Bridger was still pounding on the organ, the last swelling strains of “Amazing Grace” rolling into the street.
“The service was lovely,” Rachel said, smiling. “It was exactly what I needed today.”
He took her hand in both of his. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure we’d see you this morning. How are you holding up? Is there anything more we can do for you—other than prayer?”
“Probably not,” she replied, wondering if she should mention the fire marshal’s findings before it became common knowledge. “Just keep the prayers coming and I’ll be fine.”
The tall man behind her begged to differ. “She’d be a lot finer if she took the advice the police gave her.”
Landers’s curious glance slid between them, and Rachel shot Jake a look. The “wondering” was over. She didn’t want to talk about the fire. Not after the music, the lesson and the hymns had managed to dull her fears a little. “Reverend Landers,” she said, “I’d like you to meet my friend and neighbor Jake Campbell. Jake’s a wildlife conservation officer.”
Jake gripped the hand Landers extended. “Nice to meet you, Reverend.”
“Likewise. Actually, I believe I saw you talking with Rachel the night of the fire. I hope you enjoyed the service today, Mr. Campbell.”
“I did. And it’s Jake.”
“Good. Then maybe we’ll see you again, Jake?”
He hesitated. “Maybe.” He glanced at Rachel’s dress, then took in the attire of a few of the congregation who were talking a short distance away. “I hope you’ll forgive the way I’m dressed, Reverend. Attending was a last-minute decision.”
“The Lord doesn’t care how you’re dressed, son,” Landers replied, chuckling. “He just wants you to show up. Right, Rachel?”
She smiled. “Right.” Low voices behind her alerted her that a few stragglers were on their way out of the church, and she nodded toward the parking lot. “Thanks again for the prayers, Reverend. See you next Sunday.”
“Enjoy the day, you two,” he said. “The Lord’s given us a good one.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Jake said as they walked across the grass to the parking lot. He kept his attention moving, scanning, presumably watching for firebugs. “How good can a day be when it starts out with a word like arson?”
Rachel didn’t comment. She didn’t want to get into it right now. Incredible as it seemed, she was hungry, and if she started focusing on what could happen to her, she’d never be able to eat a thing. Head-hiding ostriches had the right idea. “Do you want to join Jenna at the diner for the Sunday brunch? My treat. Or would you rather just drop me off at the Blackberry?”
“I’d rather take you home and handcuff you to a chair until Perris and the staties figure out who torched your house. But I’ll settle for driving you to my place until Jenna comes back.”
“I’m hungry, Jake. I nee—”
“Then you’re in luck. I have food.”
“Okay,” he said, when Maggie was chewing steak bones in the weeds and quack grass he called a yard. They carried their iced teas to the front porch’s wooden swing and took a seat. “Let’s talk about your business.” She’d grown quiet after they’d eaten, and he suspected the reality of what she was up against had finally hit her. She could talk all day about having no choice in God’s decisions, but beneath her rationalizations she was afraid it might just be her time.
She studied her iced tea. “Okay, what about my business?”
Jake felt his sympathies multiply. Where she’d seemed strong in her sweats and T-shirt, her new gauzy, pale green dress printed with tiny pink flowers made her look soft and vulnerable. It was belted, and above her round neckline, he could see her pulse beating. Her throat was bare, without the gold cross she usually wore. Then he realized it had probably been lost in the fire.
“Jenna said Perris suggested that you hire a few security guys to walk the property.”
She nodded. “Yes, and it was a good suggestion. I can’t afford any more vandalism with my guests and summer help coming in soon. I don’t want anyone hurt because I didn’t take precautions.”
“I agree.” The swing’s chains creaked a little as he touched his boot to the floor and set the swing in lazy motion.
“I think I can get away with hiring only three men, one per eight-hour shift. Maybe one more to fill in so the original three can have a day off. Hopefully, with my summer help, that will be enough of a presence to discourage anyone from doing something stupid.”
He’d placed a parson’s stool in front of them, and he swallowed tea before setting his glass down on it. “If you’re worried that that could happen, maybe you should close the campground until this is over.”
“I can’t. Despite the situation, my guests want to come. I did call my competitors and asked if they could squeeze a few of them in if that wasn’t the case. But it’s the first camping weekend of the summer, and everyone’s full.” She paused “You know, I’ve been thinking. The intruder didn’t threaten me personally. He went after Tim’s equipment. So if the two events are connected, maybe the fire isn’t about settling a grudge or someone hating me. Maybe it’s about something else.”
He’d considered that, too, mostly because he couldn’t imagine anyone even disliking her. “It might be. But burning down your house in the middle of the night’s pretty extreme if the man just wants to ruin you financially.”
“I know. And I can’t think of anyone who’d want to do that. As I said, the other campgrounds are full, too. The elk herd and local attractions draw people here. There’s plenty of business for everyone.”
A gray SUV appeared at the top of his driveway, then rolled down to the house and parked behind Jake’s truck. Barking, Maggie jumped up from the lawn and stood at rigid attention when Ben Caruthers got out. She kept it up until Jake ordered her to stay.
“Afternoon, Rachel,” Ben called. “Hi, Jake.”
They both called back greetings as Ben crossed the yard. Maggie beat him to the porch, then sat sentinel between Jake and Rachel, nearly tipping over their drinks on the parson’s table. A low growl rumbled in her throat.
“Enough, Maggie,” Jake ordered. “Lie down.”
“Pretty dog,” Ben said, climbing the steps, then leaning against the post. The balding hardware store owner was dressed in navy slacks and a crisp, blue plaid cotton shirt—a far cry from the smoke-smudged bunker pants and suspenders he’d worn the other night. “I had a setter a few years back, too,” he continued. “She was a good girl, but a little too high-strung for me.”
“Yeah, that’s the story on them,” Jake returned. “Especially the pups and young ones. Maggie’s usually pretty mellow, but then, she’s nearly five.” He motioned to one of the two Adirondack chairs he intended to refinish. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Rachel made iced tea.”
“No, thanks, I just wanted to see how she was getting along.” His round face lined compassionately as he shifted his gaze to Rachel. “I stopped by the Blackberry to see you, but Jenna said you’d gone with Jake after church. So … here I am. Anything I can do to make this easier on you? Other than offer you a discount on whatever you need from my store when you decide to rebuild?”
She smiled. “Thanks. That’s nice. As for anything beyond a discount … I wish you could do something, but no. Unless you want to join my security team.”
He glanced between Jake and Rachel. “Security team?”
“Yes. I’m concerned that there could be more trouble, so I’m hiring a few men to watch over my campground until I move back. Maybe longer.”
Jake felt himself still inside. Something in her voice hinted that she wouldn’t be living in town for long. “What do you mean ‘until you move back'?”
She turned to him. “I can’t stay with Jenna forever, taking up space that she could rent to someone. And I can’t supervise my business through a telescope. I need to be down here.”
Ben’s high forehead lined, and he crossed the porch to the seat Jake had offered. “All things considered, is that wise? After the fire marshal’s findings, I’d hoped you’d shut your campground down for a while. I don’t want to alarm you any further, but going back there before the police have someone in custody could be very risky.”
“I realize that,” she returned. “But I can’t close when so many people are looking forward to their trips—some of whom have arranged to be off work or school. It’s almost too late for them to change their plans.” She drew a squiggle in the condensation on her glass. “All I know for sure is, I need to get what’s left of my house cleared away as soon as possible. I’m hoping Tim can handle that, too.”
Jake leaned forward on the swing to face her. “Too? Then you’re going ahead with the golf course? With everything else you have on your plate?”
On Deadly Ground Page 8
