Rand nodded. “I agree. I’ve already said it didn’t make sense that the robbers called each other by name in front of Mrs. Bickerstaff.”
Brynn set her mouth in a grim line. “What better way to scare an old woman out of her home than to make her think the boys at the adjacent farm are dangerous, a personal threat?”
Rand raked his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe Farrington would stoop that low.”
“The depths of human depravity ceased to amaze me long ago,” Brynn said heatedly.
Rand winced, believing she’d lumped him into the same class as Farrington. “You’re jumping to conclusions, officer. Everyone’s innocent until proven guilty.”
Brynn spun on her heel and headed back to the car. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’m going to clear Josh and Daniel, then find who’s really responsible for scaring an old woman almost to death.”
Knowing she somehow blamed him for what had happened at Blackberry Farm, Rand followed her to the car. He had some proving of his own to do.
Chapter Thirteen
Brynn sat in the farmhouse kitchen with Daniel and Josh across the table from her. Rand sat between them, and Jeff leaned against the kitchen counter, powerful arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression grim. Never had Brynn felt so personally involved in an investigation. In addition to her friendship with Jeff and her affection for Daniel and Josh, she had her feelings for Rand to contend with.
In her heart, she believed he’d had nothing to do with the attack on Mrs. Bickerstaff. He’d been as outraged as she was by the senseless violence against a helpless woman. But his lack of participation in that crime didn’t absolve him from his underhanded method of trying to buy land without telling her. Just moments earlier, at the foot of the drive, he’d said he loved her. But if he loved her, he wouldn’t have hidden the reason he’d come to the valley. And if he’d kept that fact secret, had anything he’d told her been the truth? She thrust aside that burning question to concentrate on the task at hand.
She’d allowed Rand time alone with the boys before questioning them, since she was already convinced of their innocence. Her interrogation was only a matter of procedure. Her instincts, operating at full throttle, informed her that the lawbreakers were nowhere near Archer Farm.
“I have just a few questions,” she began, glancing first at Daniel, then Josh.
The boys both looked to Rand, who nodded. “Tell Officer Sawyer whatever she wants to know.”
Daniel swallowed hard and his large Adam’s apple bobbed in his thin neck. Jason, short and built like a fire hydrant, sat stoically without moving.
“Where were you last night, Daniel?” she asked.
“Asleep in my dorm room.” His voice broke with nervousness. “We turned in at eleven o’clock after watching a DVD of The Day After Tomorrow.”
“And you, Josh?”
The stocky teen set his jaw in a hard line, more, Brynn realized to keep from trembling than from obstinance. “I share a room with Daniel, Tyrone and Cooper. We were all there from lights out till reveille this morning.”
“I questioned Cooper and Tyrone,” Jeff said, “and they corroborate Josh and Daniel’s alibi.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders.
Brynn knew what Jeff was thinking. The counselors at the farm had worked wonders with the boys, but the code of the street still ran deep. Snitching on one’s friends wasn’t acceptable, so Cooper’s and Tyrone’s statements had to be taken with a grain of salt.
“Either of you boys ever been to Blackberry Farm?” Brynn continued.
“Not me,” Josh insisted. “Just seen the sign passing by.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Either of you have anything you want to tell me?” Brynn asked.
“What’s this about, Officer Sawyer?” Daniel asked. “Are we in trouble?”
Brynn smiled, the first she’d allowed herself since the boys had entered the kitchen. “I don’t think so, Daniel. I just have some loose ends to tie up.”
“Anything else you want to ask my clients?” Rand said.
Brynn shook her head.
“You can go,” Jeff told the boys. “And Daniel, maybe you’d better take a few days off from work at the café until Officer Sawyer finishes her investigation.”
At Daniel’s crestfallen expression, new anger at the perpetrators of the crime flooded Brynn. Daniel had been falsely accused once before, when Jodie’s cook had borrowed money from the till to pay her daughter’s medical bills. It seemed as if the harder the kid tried to turn his life around, the more punches fate threw at him.
“It’ll be okay, Daniel,” Brynn assured him. “I promise you.”
“Then why do I need a lawyer?” Daniel asked.
“I’m your guarantee that you’re going to be okay,” Rand said quickly.
Brynn repressed a sigh of frustration. Rand had said exactly the right words to reassure the boys, his voice filled with genuine concern. How could a man of such obvious good intentions be the same man who had misled her so badly?
Apparently unconvinced by Rand’s assurances, Daniel nodded nervously to Rand and followed Josh out the back door.
As the boys were leaving, Gofer entered from the front hall. “The staff has finished its search of all the buildings and grounds. We’ve even combed the surrounding woods. No sign of Mrs. Bickerstaff’s computer or purse.”
Brynn raised an eyebrow. “That was fast.”
“Chief Sawyer called before you arrived,” Gofer explained, “so we had a head start.”
He removed from his shirt pocket the plastic evidence bag with the skull earring that Brynn had loaned him earlier and placed it on the table in front of her. “I also went through the boys’ belongings that we took from them when they first arrived here. No such animal as this earring listed there.” He paused for a moment. “I guess, though, there’s always the possibility Josh or Daniel could have bought it in town.”
“Where?” Brynn asked with a snort of surprise. “Not at Fulton’s Department Store, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe at one of the booths at Daffodil Days?” Jeff asked with a worried look. “They were both working in town that day.”
Rand shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone selling this kind of jewelry.”
“Me, either,” Brynn said, “and I spent a lot of hours inspecting every vendor’s table.”
At the sound of running footsteps in the hall, all four adults looked to the door. Brittany, Jodie’s teenage daughter, pale blond hair flying, face flushed and green eyes dark with anger, burst into the room.
“You can’t arrest Daniel, Aunt Brynn,” the teen said heatedly. “He hasn’t done anything.”
Brynn recalled that Daniel and Brittany had been tight since their first meeting a year ago. Working together at the café, they had grown even closer.
“Cool your jets, Brit,” Jeff said calmly. “Brynn is here to clear Daniel’s name, not to take him in.”
Brittany looked from her stepfather to Brynn, and the tension left her body. Then her gaze fell on Rand. “Who are you?”
“Rand Benedict. I live at River Walk. Nice to finally meet you, Brittany.”
Brittany flopped into the chair beside him. “Mom’s told me about you.” Her pretty face wrinkled in a mischievous grin. “And Aunt Brynn.”
Rand shot Brynn an amused glance, which she ignored, before he turned back to Brittany. “I’d be interested in what your mother’s told you.”
“Well—” Brittany began, then caught sight of the evidence bag on the table. She grabbed it and held it up to the light. “Cool.”
Brynn noted the three earrings in each of Brittany’s ears and recalled the battle Jodie had won, drawing the line at further body piercings. Since Jeff had come into Jodie and Brit’s lives, the teen had gradually shed her walking-dead Goth look, but she retained her love of jewelry.
“Ever seen anything like this before?” Brynn kept her voice casual.
“Not for a
couple years,” Brit said. “But Skeeter Welch wore this kind of stuff all the time.”
“Who’s Skeeter Welch?” Rand said.
Pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together for Brynn. “Skeeter’s a kid from Carsons Corner. Has several priors. Runs with a bad crowd.”
She omitted the fact that Brittany had hung with that crowd, too, during her ultrarebellious stage, before her mother had taken her for serious counseling.
“Is Skeeter in trouble?” Brittany asked.
“Don’t know yet,” Brynn said. “I’ll have to question him.”
Brittany rose from her chair and grabbed cookies from a plate on the counter. “Better Skeeter than Daniel. That dude deserves to be arrested.”
Without a backward look, Brit, chewing on a cookie, left the room.
“What’s next?” Jeff asked.
Brynn stood and tucked the earring into the pocket of her skirt. “Lucas Rhodes and I are going to pay a visit to Skeeter Welch.”
Rand stood also. “I’ll drive you back.”
Brynn shook her head. She could concentrate on only one problem at a time. The less she was around Rand for now, the better. “I’m sure Jodie will be glad to take me home.”
JODIE’S VAN sped along Valley Road toward town. Brynn spent the greater part of the journey filling in Jodie on the break-in at Blackberry Farm. When she’d finished, she added what she’d learned about Rand’s reason for coming to Pleasant Valley.
“He lied to me, Jodie,” Brynn said when she’d completed her explanation, the full weight of her disappointment pressing on her as if someone had loaded a pallet of bricks on her heart. “He’s not on sabbatical. He came here to buy land for his client. And as soon as he’s accomplished that, he’ll head back to New York and his cushy job at his prestigious law firm.” She slammed her fists against her knees. “I knew I should never have trusted a Yankee lawyer.”
Jodie snapped her a quick glance before returning her eyes to the road. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That he resigned from his law firm.”
Surprise stole Brynn’s breath. “What?”
Jodie nodded. “Last Friday.”
“How come you know this and I don’t?” Wounded pride joined Brynn’s flood of emotions.
“Rand met me at the café Friday. I took him upstairs to show him our old apartment. He signed a five-year lease on the spot.”
Brynn’s mouth fell open, but she was at a loss for words.
“He said he’d already quit his job in New York,” Jodie continued, “and was opening his own law practice in Pleasant Valley.”
“A five-year lease?”
Jodie nodded.
“But he didn’t tell me.” Why would Rand share his plans with Jodie and not with her? That cut deep.
Jodie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Where were you headed when you got the call about Mrs. Bickerstaff?”
“To the mountains for lunch.”
Jodie nodded. “To a romantic inn. Rand asked me about the place. I told him it was a perfect setting.”
“Perfect for what?” Brynn’s mouth went dry.
“Rand asked me not to tell you about his decision to stay in the valley. He wanted to inform you himself. At lunch today.”
Brynn groaned and scooted lower in her seat.
“He didn’t actually say,” Jodie went on, “but I’m willing to bet that wasn’t all he was going to tell you. Or maybe I should say, ask you.”
“Ask me? What are you talking about?”
Jodie’s grin showed her pretty teeth. “The big question.”
“Who I voted for in the last election?”
Her friend swatted her playfully on her shoulder. “Are you ever serious?”
“You don’t call presidential politics serious?” Brynn hedged, still trying to wrap her mind around the implications of what Jodie had revealed.
“Will you stop joking?” Jodie said.
“I don’t approve of political jokes,” Brynn shot back. “Too many of them get elected.” She used humor to shield her emotions from overload.
Jodie laughed, then her expression sobered. “Rand loves you, Brynn. I can see it in his face, hear it in his voice when he talks about you.”
Brynn groaned. “Not anymore.”
“What are you saying?”
“I blew up at him this morning. Accused him of lying to me. Pretty much implied that he was responsible for what had happened to Eileen.”
“You didn’t!” Jodie stared at her in horror, an apt reflection of Brynn’s own feelings.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” Brynn warned, “or all our problems are over.”
Jodie faced forward in time to maneuver an upcoming curve. “What are you going to do?”
“Besides wishing I could start the past month over?”
“Besides that.” Jodie’s horrified expression morphed into an understanding smile.
Brynn leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I have absolutely no idea.”
JUST OVER a week later, Brynn sat in a redwood lounge chair at the far end of her backyard in the shade of the persimmon tree and watched her father spread compost over the summer perennial beds. The spring day was glorious, filled with cheery sunshine, the scent of flowers and moist earth and the melodies of birdsong, but not even the day’s perfection could alleviate Brynn’s misery.
Her father stopped his work and leaned on his shovel. He removed a bandanna from the pocket of his dungarees, mopped his forehead, and studied her with a worried frown. “Penny for your thoughts, pumpkin.”
Brynn plucked a few blades of the blue fescue lawn that her father tended so carefully and shredded them between her fingers. “I really messed up, Dad.”
He propped the shovel against the wheelbarrow, ambled to her chair and sat at her feet. “You solved the Bickerstaff break-in in record time. That doesn’t seem like messing up to me.”
Brynn tossed the bits of grass aside. “I’m not talking about work.”
Her father rubbed his chin with his big hand and stared back toward the house. “Then you must be talking about Rand Benedict.”
She nodded. “I jumped to conclusions. Said terrible things to him. Now I don’t know how to take them back.”
He patted her knee. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. After all, the man did come here under false pretenses.”
“But that’s just it,” Brynn protested. “He came intending to buy property on the sly, but he didn’t go through with it.”
“Hummph,” Hunt said, obviously unconvinced. “Only because Mrs. Bickerstaff and the Mauneys wouldn’t sell.”
“It wasn’t like that. I talked to them. Mrs. Bickerstaff said Rand asked only once if she was interested in selling, but when she told him she had other plans for the property, he backed off. He even expressed approval of her long-range goals for her place.”
“And the Mauneys?”
“According to Joe and Vera, Rand never even asked. He alluded to how much they might make if they were to sell, but when they showed no interest, he dropped the subject.”
Her father thought for a moment. “Doesn’t sound like his heart was in his work.”
Brynn had drawn the same conclusion. “That’s just it, Daddy. I think Rand’s heart is in the valley. That’s why he quit his job—and why he wants to stay.”
“And what does his staying have to do with you?”
“Nothing now,” Brynn said miserably. “I’ve ruined my chances.”
“Have you told him you’re sorry?” her father asked gently. “And admitted that you were wrong about him?”
Brynn shook her head. She hadn’t heard a word from Rand since she left Archer Farm with Jodie more than a week ago. After the terrible things she’d said, and the even worse things she’d implied, she didn’t blame him for not speaking to her. He’d probably never speak to her again. Ever.
“I don’t think an apology will do any good,” s
he said, wishing she could take her father’s shovel, dig a hole and disappear into it.
Her father patted her knee. “You won’t know unless you try. Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen if you tell him you’re sorry? I did tell you to keep an eye on him.”
“He might say he’d never want to see me again.” The prospect lodged a boulder-sized lump in her throat.
“And is he seeing you now?”
She shook her head.
“Then what do you have to lose?” Hunt patted her knee again and stood. “From the way I figure it, an apology might help, and it sure won’t hurt. I’m headed to the builders’ supply. You think about what I’ve said.”
Her father crossed the yard, climbed into his pickup and backed out the drive.
Brynn mulled over his advice. In her entire life, her father had never steered her wrong. But how did she go about apologizing? A phone call wouldn’t do it. She could articulate what she needed to say, but she couldn’t watch Rand to gauge his reaction. And if she went to River Walk, would he let her in? He had Lillian to run interference if he didn’t want to talk to Brynn. She could lie in wait in her patrol car on Valley Road and pull him over, she thought with a fleeting smile—but such an encounter wouldn’t set the proper tone for reconciliation.
Her head pounded from thinking too hard. Hoping to ease its ache, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. The warm breeze and peaceful surroundings soon lulled her to sleep.
WHEN BRYNN opened her eyes, she thought she was dreaming. Rand sat in the chair next to hers, his steady gaze focused on her face. With the breeze ruffling his thick hair and the dappled sunlight highlighting the rugged angles of his face, he looked like a dream model for L.L.Bean in tan chinos, a pale yellow shirt and cordovan deck shoes. Too handsome to be true. She had to be dreaming. She blinked and looked again.
He was still there.
She struggled upright and quickly rubbed the back of her hand across her lips, hoping she hadn’t drooled in her sleep. Happiness at the sight of him shot through her like a bottle rocket. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Spring in the Valley Page 15
