Frustration still gnawing at his insides, he went back into the house. Jackie was curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. She looked so tiny, so helpless in her little pink nightgown and matching fuzzy slippers.
He looked away. The sight of the vulnerable little girl caused strange emotions to flood through him, emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He frowned, shoving them away, not wanting to deal with what he felt.
Lindy sat at the opposite end of the sofa. The energy that had radiated from her the last time he saw her was gone, as if sucked out by the confusing events of the night. Was she somehow a part of this? There was no rational reason to think so, but much of what Lindy did was irrational. Had her illness progressed to the point where she could be a threat to Sarah and Jackie? He didn’t want to think so for Sarah’s sake.
“Did you find anything?” Sarah asked, rising from the chair where she had been sitting. The furrow still deepened her brow.
“No. There doesn’t appear to be any sign of forced entry. None of the brush and grass next to any of the windows appears disturbed.”
“How about a cup of coffee?” Sarah asked, her expression telling him she wanted to speak to him in the kitchen. He nodded. “Lindy, would you mind staying in here with Jackie? I don’t want her to awaken and be frightened again,” Sarah said.
Lindy nodded and together Reese and Sarah left the living room and went into the kitchen. While Sarah fixed the coffee, he watched her, trying not to notice how her robe gaped open at the throat to expose her delicate collarbone, how the short robe displayed the shapely length of her legs.
Who could want to hurt Sarah? The first two attempts had been subtle. Had either worked, it was possible he might not have realized it was murder. Both the shooting or a fall down the well could have been deemed accidental death. But this attack on Jackie tonight was different. There had been no subterfuge. It had been a blatant attempt of murder. What worried Reese was the fact that the attack on Jackie spoke of desperation, of a killer not even trying to hide the crime. It spoke of a killer on the verge of losing control.
“Thanks,” he said much later as Sarah placed a mug in front of him.
The doctor had left, proclaiming Jackie fine, and Reese’s deputies had gone after dusting everything in the little girl’s room for fingerprints and finding nothing but smears and blurs and prints that matched Jackie, Sarah and Lindy. Whoever had been in the house had left nothing behind.
She joined him at the table and wrapped her hands around her own cup, as if seeking warmth. “Reese, I can’t find Mama’s gun.”
He looked at her sharply, a renewed burst of frustration zinging through him like an electrical current. “What gun?”
“Mama had a shotgun she kept in the coat closet in the living room. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, and I know it was here when we first arrived because I saw it when I hung our coats up.”
“When did you notice it missing?” Reese leaned forward. Was it possible that had been the gun that had shot her?
“I noticed it tonight, when we were checking through the house, but I have no idea how long it’s been missing.” He saw her hands tighten around the coffee cup, her knuckles turning white beneath the pressure.
He reached out and gently pried the cup loose from her grip. “You’re gonna shatter that if you hold it any tighter,” he admonished gently. He took her hands in his. Despite the warmth of the cup, they were icy cold. “If you need to hold tight to something, hold on to me,” he added softly.
He squeezed her hands, felt her hesitation, then an answering pressure. “Sarah, I wish I could tell you what’s going on. I wish I could tell you who’s doing this and why.”
Again rage swept through him, a white-hot fury and a sense of utter helplessness. He was the sheriff, he was supposed to solve crimes, keep the people of Clay Creek safe, but how could he safeguard against an unknown enemy?
“Reese...” she protested softly, making him realize he squeezed her hands too tightly.
He released his grip and stood up. He swept his hand through his hair and leaned against the counter. “I keep coming back to the fact that somehow this is all related to the farm. It’s the only thing that makes any kind of sense.”
“But why Jackie? Why on earth would somebody want to hurt her?” Sarah’s eyes were huge, containing a haunting that he guessed only a mother would feel when her child was threatened. He almost envied her that...the power of a love for a child that was so intense, so undiluted and pure that it swept away personal fear, turned cowards into heroes, sacrificed everything for the child’s well-being.
Would he have felt the same way had he been there from the beginning of Sarah’s pregnancy? Would he have bonded with Jackie had he been there to feel her kick, hear her heartbeat, watch her birth?
He shoved these disturbing questions aside. He couldn’t afford the energy to analyze them. At the moment he had far more troubling things to worry about.
“But why Jackie?” she repeated.
He pushed a hand through his hair once again and frowned thoughtfully. “The way things stand now, if something happens to you, the farm would go to Jackie...unless you’ve made out a will with other arrangements.”
“I haven’t,” she replied.
“So if Raymond Boswell was willing to do anything to get the farm into Ben’s hands so he could buy it, it makes sense that he’d not only have to get rid of you but your daughter as well.” Reese straightened as a new thought struck him. “How well do you know your brother-in-law?”
“Ben? Not very well, why?” She stared at him for a long moment, then realized where his question led. “Oh, Reese, you can’t honestly believe that Ben has anything to do with this?”
“Honey, I honestly don’t know what to believe. All I know is somebody wants you and your daughter dead, and the only people who profit from that happening are Lindy, Ben and ultimately Raymond Boswell.”
“But Ben couldn’t have anything to do with it. He’s been in Kansas City,” Sarah protested.
“And Raymond Boswell is supposed to be in St. Louis for business,” Reese said. “However, I intend to find out exactly where both of them are tonight—and they better have damned good alibis.”
He walked back to where she sat and placed a hand on her shoulder. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her tight, assure her that he would never let anything happen to either her or Jackie. But he knew she wouldn’t welcome his arms encircling her and he knew he couldn’t promise to keep her safe, no matter how badly he wanted to.
“In the meantime, I don’t like the idea of you staying here on the farm. Why don’t you all pack a bag and come into town and stay with me?” he finally suggested.
She shook her head almost vehemently. “That’s not necessary.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I’m sure we’ll be fine at least for tonight. Whoever it was surely won’t come back.” She sighed. “I don’t know...maybe I did forget to lock the front door tonight.”
Reese watched her a moment, knowing what he was about to say would anger her. But he had to say it, he had to explore all possibilities. “Or maybe the person who tried to choke Jackie was already in the house.”
She stared at him. “Already in the house? What are you talking about?”
He hesitated a moment, then said in a low voice, “Lindy.”
She gasped. “That’s ridiculous,” she shot back, her face turning a shade paler than it had been. “Lindy would never hurt me, and she certainly wouldn’t hurt Jackie.” Sarah stood up, her eyes more haunted than ever.
“Think about it.” He stepped closer to her, smelling the sweet scent of her, fighting the impulse to wrap his arms around her, take her someplace where she would be safe. “Are you sure, Sarah?” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve been gone from here a long time. How well do you really know your sister? How ill is she?”
She flushed and shrugged away from his touch. “Well enough to know she would never do an
ything to hurt us. Lindy might have some problems, but she isn’t homicidal.” She glared at him, anger momentarily usurping the fear. “I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing.”
“Sarah, at this point you’d be a damn fool to discount anyone. You can’t trust anyone, except me.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “But I guess you never were very good at doing that, were you?” He hadn’t meant to say it, and he didn’t wait for her reply. “If I can’t talk you into leaving with me tonight, then there’s nothing more I can do here.”
She nodded and followed him out of the kitchen. Lindy and Jackie were both asleep, each sprawled on opposite ends of the sofa. He walked to the front door and turned back to Sarah. “Does your bedroom door have a lock on it?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Put Jackie in with you and lock your door for the rest of the night. Sarah, I could very well be wrong about Lindy. But I’d rather we err on the side of caution,” he said. “And make sure you lock up after me.”
“I will.” She met his gaze and looked as if she wanted to say something. She colored slightly and glanced away. “Thanks for coming out.”
He smiled and touched her cheek lightly. “I can’t have criminals running amok in Clay Creek.” He turned and went back out to his patrol car.
He started the engine and waited until she’d closed the door, then he pulled down the lane. Instead of going out onto the main road, he drove into a grove of trees at the end of the driveway. He parked and turned out the lights. From this vantage point he knew he was hidden from the house and from the road, but he had a perfect view of both and would be able to see if anyone approached from any direction.
If the danger came from an outside source, he would be right here to see it coming. However, if the danger came from within, well, Sarah would have to depend on her own resources. The thought made his blood run cold. Despite the chill of the night, he rolled down his car window, hoping that he would be able to hear if Sarah or Jackie screamed for help.
He didn’t want to believe that Lindy had anything to do with all this, but he wasn’t willing to discount her. She’d had opportunity. Of the three suspects, Raymond, Ben and Lindy, she was the only one who had been present at all three incidents. As far as motive...who knew what thoughts drifted through Lindy’s mind when she was in one of her mania periods.
He’d heard the various stories that circled the town about her—Lindy cooking day and night because she thought it was her mission to end world hunger, Lindy accusing Gladys Prather of spying on her and trying to steal Ben away. The stories went on and on. For the most part, Lindy’s delusions had been relatively harmless, but everyone knew that over the past several months she’d been getting worse, and who knew what effect Margaret’s death was having on her? Was she angry with Sarah for not being here in town when Margaret fell down the stairs? Was all of this a form of revenge that made sense only in Lindy’s deluded mind?
Reese rubbed his forehead tiredly, not taking his eyes off the old farmhouse. He was the sheriff, he was supposed to have all the answers. It was his job to keep everyone safe. And of all the people he wanted to keep safe, Sarah and Jackie...
He slumped down in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. It was going to be a long night. He wished he had asked Sarah for an extra cup of the coffee she’d made.
Sarah. He sighed, trying to forget the enticing scent of her, the warmth that had emanated from her, the way her robe had hugged her curves. God, would he ever get her out of his mind? Years from now would he still remember that scent of hers, the way her eyes deepened in color when she was lost in thought?
It was useless to be obsessed with her, a waste of energy to want her. They’d had their chance years ago. She’d made her decision then, just as she had the other night after they’d made love. Years ago she hadn’t trusted him enough to do the right thing. There was no reason to believe that she would trust him now. And in truth he couldn’t blame her. Where she was concerned, he simply didn’t trust himself.
* * *
Sarah checked the front door three different times to make sure it was locked before she went back into the kitchen and dumped the remainder of the coffee she’d made. As she washed out the carafe, unwelcome thoughts whirled in her head.
Was Reese right? Was it possible that Lindy was part of this madness? Her gaze drifted to the dent in the wall. Lindy’s rages had been vicious, especially in the past couple of days. Were they also more insidious?
Even though Sarah had told Reese she wasn’t sure she had locked the front door before going to bed earlier in the evening, in truth she was almost positive she had. And if she had, how had the intruder gotten in? There had been no signs of forced entry, no evidence of anything being disturbed. Without a key, it seemed impossible that somebody could have gotten inside...unless they had already been inside.
Earlier when she’d stepped out of the bathtub, she’d thought she’d heard something. Had it been Lindy sneaking out of bed and down the hallway, or had it been an unknown intruder? When Sarah had checked on Lindy, had she only been feigning sleep? The thought made a cold rush of horror shiver up Sarah’s spine.
She dried the glass carafe and placed it back on the coffeemaker, then started to leave the kitchen. At the doorway she hesitated, then crossed the room once again. She opened one of the cabinet drawers and stared at the silverware inside.
Before she could argue with herself, allow reason to overcome instinct, she drew out a razor-sharp paring knife and tucked it into the pocket of her robe.
What are you going to do with that? a little voice niggled in the back of her mind. You couldn’t stab anyone if your life depended on it, the voice taunted. But as Sarah thought of the livid bruises around her daughter’s neck, she knew the voice was wrong. She could and would do whatever it took to protect Jackie.
She went into the living room, where she roused Lindy by gently shaking her shoulder. Lindy opened her eyes and looked around, obviously disoriented. “Lindy, you can go on back up to bed.”
“Is everything all right?” she asked, standing up.
“As right as it can be,” Sarah answered. “I think the excitement is over...at least for tonight.”
Lindy nodded and Sarah watched as she stumbled up the stairs and disappeared into her room. “Jackie, honey.” Sarah leaned over and scooped her daughter up in her arms.
Jackie immediately wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck. “Mommy, can I sleep with you?”
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Sarah agreed, holding Jackie more tightly against her. She couldn’t think about how close she’d come to losing her daughter. She couldn’t contemplate what might have happened had Jackie been unable to scream and waken her. If Sarah dwelled on these thoughts, she knew she would lose her mind. Instead she focused on the reality of holding Jackie close, smelling the baby-sweet scent of her hair, feeling her little body molded against hers.
Once in her bedroom, Sarah tucked Jackie into the bed, relieved when the little girl immediately went back to sleep. Although she was exhausted herself, sleep was the furthest thing from Sarah’s mind. She locked the bedroom door, then as an extra precautionary measure she wedged the top of a chair beneath the knob. Certain that nobody would be able to sneak in, she went back over to the bed. Taking the knife out of her robe pocket, she slid it beneath her pillow.
Wrapping the robe more closely around her, she moved over to the window and stared out into the darkness of the night. God, things were such a mess. She was a prisoner in her own room, with a knife beneath the pillow, haunted by a man who disturbed her almost as much as the attempts on her life. She shoved thoughts of Reese aside, focusing instead on the mystery of the attacks on her and Jackie.
Who was responsible? Was it possible that the attacks had nothing to do with the farm? Then what? Lindy had spoken of how angry she had been when Sarah left so many years before. Had that anger never really gone away but instead festered until it had reac
hed the point of explosion?
Dear God, she didn’t want to believe that Lindy was in any way responsible, but she realized Reese was right. She couldn’t afford to take chances. She couldn’t afford to discount anyone.
She frowned as she suddenly realized that she didn’t remember hearing the dogs barking. At no time during the night had she heard the dogs. If an intruder had crept into the yard, headed for the house, Lindy’s dogs would have gone crazy. However, other than when Reese had arrived, the dogs had been quiet. Somehow this only made the evidence more damning for Lindy.
She’d hoped that within the next couple of days Ben would return home and she and Jackie could leave and go back to New York. Now she realized she couldn’t just leave here without knowing who was after her and why. She refused to go back to New York having to look over her shoulder, wondering if somebody was after her or her daughter.
She sighed and turned away from the window, realizing the darkness of the night was a perfect reflection of the darkness in her mind. She shrugged out of her robe and crawled into bed next to her sleeping daughter. Reaching over to turn out the lamp, she then threw one arm around Jackie. The other she moved beneath the pillow so that her fingers curled around the handle of the knife. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 11
“Pancakes,” Jackie announced. “I want pancakes for breakfast.”
“How about some oatmeal instead?” Sarah countered, too tired to face the mess that pancakes always created.
“Yuck.” Jackie’s facial expression mirrored the verbal one.
“I’ll throw in some brown sugar and cinnamon,” Sarah offered.
“And some apple, too?” Jackie asked.
Sarah hesitated, then nodded. It would have been easier to make pancakes, she thought with an inward groan. She got out all the ingredients and put the water on to boil, trying to ignore the numbing exhaustion that pulled at her.
She’d been awake most of the night, jumping at every noise, clutching the knife each time the furnace kicked on or the house creaked and groaned. Tormenting thoughts rolled through her head...thoughts of Reese, of Lindy, of Ben.
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