The Black Sheep and the Princess

by Donna Kauffman

  Just then one of the firemen came up behind the sheriff and cleared his throat. Gilby turned, and the young man said, “We’re done here, sir. The marshal just radioed in. He’s back early from his fishing trip, bad weather up north. He’ll be here in the morning.”

  Kate sent Donovan a look and had to work at not rolling her eyes. Gilby had made it sound as if Roger was out of town on some urgent business. Fishing.

  Gilby simply nodded, but rather than look back at them, looked past the fireman instead to where the others were just finishing securing the yellow-and-black tape that they’d strung around trees, enclosing the entire site with several yards to spare all the way around. “Thanks, Bud.”

  The young man stood there a moment longer, until Gilby, patience obviously strained, said, “Yes?”

  “Uh, we need you to move your car, sir. Not enough room for the trucks to make the loop here. We’ll need to back out.”

  Kate bit down hard on the urge to smile at the tiny patches of pink that bloomed in Gilby’s cheeks. “Pack up your gear, son,” he instructed him. “You can follow me out.”

  Leave it to Gilby to make it sound like it was his idea, Kate thought.

  The sheriff faced them once again, flipping his pad shut. “I’ll have further questions for both of you,” he said. “Keep yourselves available.”

  Donovan and Kate both nodded, but neither commented.

  It was clear from his tight expression that Gilby was not happy at having his little power play trumped by some low totem pole emergency worker. “Steer clear of the site. And leave the marshal to do his job tomorrow. I don’t want to hear about any interference.”

  Kate spoke up then. “Trust me, Sheriff. I want to find out who is attacking my property more than anyone.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Attack is a strong word, Ms. Sutherland.”

  “I’ve been vandalized and my property trespassed on repeatedly, as recently as this morning. And now this. I’ll expect that you’ll do your best to see if this time we can make some forward progress with this most recent surge in activity.”

  Gilby visibly bristled at her tone. “I’ve been doing my job for a very long time. Don’t you worry. We’ll get the answers.” He eyed her, then Donovan. “Whatever they might be. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With that he shoved his pad in his pocket and stalked off.

  Chapter 18

  Mac watched as Gilby walked over to where the firemen were loading the last piece of gear on their truck. The retardant they’d put down had subdued a lot of the smoke, so at least it was easier to breathe now. His lungs still burned from what he’d already inhaled.

  “What the hell did he mean by that?” Kate asked, keeping her voice low so only he could hear her.

  “Come on,” Mac said, taking her elbow and turning her toward her cabin. “We need to talk, and we’re not doing it here.”

  Kate stretched to keep up with his long-legged strides. “Was he just trying to intimidate, or do you think he’s really going to try and pin this somehow on me?” Her eyes widened. “Is this how they’re going to get me out of here now? Arrest me? Can they do that?”

  “It’s a small town, so the powers-that-be, whoever that is in this case, if it’s not Gilby, are probably used to using intimidation to get what they want. The locals can’t really do anything about it. Most aren’t equipped to hire an expensive attorney, and it would have to be one from another area, who would have a hard time fighting the local magistrate anyway. And it’s not like they could simply relocate.”

  “Well, the lawyer who is handling my estate dealings with Shelby could maybe—”

  “You won’t need to hire a lawyer.” Mac climbed the stairs to Kate’s porch and let them both in. He opened the door for a howling Bagel and let the dog wriggle in paroxysms of joy all over his soot-streaked legs, then outside to relieve himself, before parking all three of them on the porch.

  “Why don’t we go inside?”

  “I’m filthy, for one, as is your dog now. I also want to keep an eye on our visitors until they roll out of here.”

  Kate nodded and took a seat on the wicker chair across from where Mac had perched on the wicker lounge that faced downhill. She dragged her chair around next to his so she could also watch the firemen pull out under the close supervision of Sheriff Gilby. “So, you don’t think he’s coming after me, then? What was all that, then? Force of habit?”

  “Partly. Partly to make you think you were in danger, maybe see what you’d do. Distract you from worrying about what you should really be focusing on.”

  “He knows you’re here putting up security. Do you think he’d try and target you now? I’m sorry, too, about that whole thing with your father. I—”

  “Don’t be. Doesn’t matter. If anything, if he thinks I’m just Donny Mac’s loser son trying to be something he’s not, all the better for me.” He stared down the hill, watching as the firemen climbed on their trucks and started up their heavy engines. “I don’t think that’s the case right now, but I don’t think I’m his focus either. Just his excuse for expediting things.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Did you happen to notice the change in his demeanor and tactics when you revealed that you aren’t the technical owner of this place yet?”

  “No, not really. I guess I should apologize for running off at the mouth, too. I knew better than to hand over information like that, but he was really pissing me off.”

  “It’s okay. It was interesting to see his response. Ties in with my earlier suspicion.”

  Kate turned to him. “Yeah, about that. What do you think we missed?”

  Mac watched as Gilby barked into his radio unit before climbing into his car and backing around so he could lead the way out. The fire trucks took a bit longer to pull the same maneuver, their big tires digging muddy trenches on either side of the narrow lane as they finally maneuvered themselves around.

  He didn’t respond to Kate’s question until they disappeared over the crest and down the road leading to the camp exit. The rumble of the truck engines echoed through the deepening mist gathering in the trees now that the rain was over and evening was falling.

  “You said you talked to Shelby,” Mac said. “What did he say?”

  “You’re not going to tell me what you figured out?”

  “I need to hear how the phone call went.”

  “Hard to say, really. He was…pretty much himself. Self-important bordering on rude.”

  “Did he say why he was a no-show?”

  “He said something came up, but not what. I pressed, and he got kind of pissy, but nothing that struck any real chord.” She lifted a shoulder. “Other than the fact that he left the room to take my call, I’m half inclined to believe it really was just one of his ridiculous power plays.”

  “Left the room? What do you mean?”

  “Shelby loves for everyone to know how important he is, and he was at his private club when I called. But instead of telling me he was too busy to sign papers securing his entire future in front of whatever cronies he was dining with, he stepped out of the room to return my call.” She shrugged again. “Not really noteworthy. Who knows who was sitting at the table with him.” She lifted a shoulder. “He pissed me off as he usually does, but to be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t really feel anything all that suspicious about it. If you hadn’t been here digging this all up and trying to link it together, I know I would’ve been mad, but I wouldn’t have suspected anything weird.”

  Mac nodded, but didn’t say anything right away.

  “So, does that help or hinder your new theory? You said maybe the Timberline thing and the will weren’t connected?”

  “Did you come to your conclusion about not doubting Shelby’s reasoning before or after I said that?”

  “Before, I guess.” She paused, then nodded. “I mean, I hadn’t analyzed it or anything, but that was my gut reaction at the time.”

  “How did you leave it with him?”

>   “That he didn’t want to screw around on this, that I needed this to get done so I had the power to move forward.”

  “And?”

  “And, that seemed to be it. His assistant will call with a time and we’ll go from there. My gut feeling, to be honest, is that it will happen this time. I’m sorry if that screws up your theory, and it’s not because I don’t want you to be right. At this point, I just want to know the truth, whatever it is, I just…” She trailed off, lifted a shoulder.

  Mac sat there for a moment, mulling over the new direction his thoughts were taking, then abruptly stood up and reached a hand out for her. She took it, and he pulled her up, then kept pulling until she bumped up against him. “What does your gut instinct tell you about this?”

  “This, meaning us?”

  “This meaning us.”

  She gazed into his eyes, and he spent a moment thinking he could get used to looking back. That maybe he already was. “I’m trying not to overanalyze it.” A ghost of a smile curved her soot-streaked face. “We’re doing enough of that about every other facet of my life at the moment. This part is working out okay, so I figured it was best to just leave it to go as it goes. Or try to.”

  He should shut up, should be happy she was okay with their current arrangement, not pushing for more, not further complicating an already complicated situation. So why he opened his mouth, he had no idea. “Just okay?”

  She rolled her eyes, smiled dryly. “Men and their egos.”

  He snagged her hand, pressed it against his chest, kept his gaze on her. For the life of him he couldn’t have said why it was suddenly so important to get a straight answer, but there it was. “I wasn’t talking about the sex.”

  “What else is there?” She immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. Not at all. I guess what I meant was—”

  He let her go, stepped back. “No offense. I know what you meant.”

  “I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t be pissed off at me right now.”

  “I’m not pissed off at you. If I’m pissed off at anyone, it’s my own idiotic self.” Now it was his turn to heave a sigh, roll his shoulders. “It was an unfair question, one I wouldn’t have appreciated, so I had no right. You’re right. Let’s not analyze, let’s just enjoy what is. There’s enough crap going on; it’s nice to have some balance.” He walked to the porch door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To poke around the cabin. You don’t think for one minute I’m going to rely on Gilby or Roger to give us the real story?”

  “But, the yellow tape, Gilby’s orders. It’s a crime scene, Donovan.”

  “And I believe I know my way around one of those pretty well by now. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid.” He pushed through the door. “At least not with the cabin,” he added under his breath.

  She was at the door behind him. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’ll know when or if I find it. Mostly I want to find out how it was started, see if what I find matches up with what Roger finds. Don’t worry, I’m not going to alter anything, just get a lay of the land with my own two eyes.”

  “Wait,” she called out, when he was a dozen steps down the hill.

  He paused, turned.

  “You didn’t tell me what you thought you’d figured out.”

  “Still not sure I have.”

  “You don’t even want to share your theory?”

  He smiled then. “It’s all just theories yet, right?”

  She nodded, leaned against the frame of the porch door. “Something’s going on, though.”

  “That part is fact. Something is most definitely going on.”

  “Just because I question your theories doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear them, or don’t necessarily believe them. I’m just trying to sort this out, same as you. I don’t have the same training as you, and I don’t think like you, so you’ll have to be patient with me. I’m sure I’m frustrating the hell out of you.”

  His smile broadened. “You do a whole lot of things to me, Kate Sutherland. And I don’t mind that we think different. Keeps my mind more open that way.”

  Her smile was wry. “Could have fooled me.”

  “I’m guessing that doesn’t happen all that often.” He turned back, started walking. “I won’t be long. Go ahead and grab a shower first if you want.”

  “Might,” she called back. “Might wait.”

  He didn’t look back, but it took him all the way to the burned shell of the cabin to wipe the grin off his face. She was something, she was. The only thing frustrating about her was how quickly she’d gotten to him. He liked that she didn’t back down from her own opinion on things, that she kept poking, kept asking, didn’t just take things on faith, or because he said so. Sure, it was irritating at times, because he wanted to make sure she was being careful, that she was taking things seriously enough to make wise decisions.

  He carefully avoided thinking about the piercing little jab he’d felt when she’d dismissed their—whatever the hell they were having—as nothing more than a convenient physical outlet. Hadn’t he basically said the same thing? About enjoying some balance to the worry, the stress?

  Except he hadn’t been thinking about sex. Well, not just sex. It shouldn’t irritate him that she had been. Would make things easier when they sewed this up, in fact, if she kept a level head. “One of us should,” he muttered, then shut down that line of thought completely and did a quick walk around the circumference of the taped-off area. He studied the ground, the cabin, storing information, looking for clues, as well as the best place to breach security without leaving a trail. He didn’t know the fire marshal, so he had no idea how thorough a man Roger was, but, as he ducked under the tape, he took no chances. If his most recent suspicion proved to have any weight behind it, it was imperative he knew what Roger would find, before Roger found it.

  Or had a chance to alter it.

  Chapter 19

  It was full dark and had been for a short time. Kate had just about talked herself into heading back down to the burned cabin, when Donovan pushed in through the cabin door. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

  Bagel barked and wagged vigorously as he danced around Donovan’s ankles, and Kate tried very hard to remind herself that his greeting, like last time, was just a joke. Not something she was going to hear every day for, oh, the next fifty years. That she’d even thought about it was a major heads-up on how not casually she was handling all of this. She forced herself to glance at him with nothing more than a quick smile from the pot of chili she was stirring. “Hey, Superhero. How goes the stealth hunt?”

  Her entire body hummed in anticipation when he crossed the room toward her. Not that she could really fault the reaction. He’d done some pretty amazing things to her body earlier; of course, it was going to hum a little. Okay, a lot. But there were more important things to be thinking about than how long it was going to be before they discussed tonight’s sleeping arrangements. Even if she’d spent more time than absolutely necessary on that very topic and very little on the actual important ones as she’d put dinner together.

  She’d have to be disgusted with herself later, however, because he came up right behind her, not stopping until she could feel his breath fan the back of her neck, as if her personal space had a huge open sign hovering over it exclusively for him. Which, apparently, it did, as her immediate response was to lean back into him. Or try to.

  He took a quick step back. “I’m disgustingly filthy and you smell incredible.”

  “That’s just dinner.”

  He leaned in and brushed his lips just below her ear, inhaling deeply. “Nope. It’s you.”

  She couldn’t help it; she was impossibly charmed, even if he did smell as if he’d slept inside an old barbecue pit. Dipping her chin to hide her ridiculously big grin, she continued to stir the mix of beans and hamburger meat. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed.
“Very.”

  Her body went from humming to outright singing, and it took considerable willpower to keep from tossing the spoon down and turning into his arms, maybe even pushing him down on the small kitchen table and having her way with him, smoke stench or no.

  “You didn’t wait for me,” he said, still hovering, still sniffing.

  “I did for a bit, but when it looked like you were going to be out there for a while, I thought it would be a good idea to put something together to eat, and I didn’t want to do that all covered in soot and grime.” She had every intention of asking him what he’d found in the cabin that had kept him down there so long, and then grill him on whatever his new theory was, until he told her everything, so it was as much of a surprise to her as anyone when she smiled over her shoulder at him and said, “Doesn’t mean I can’t scrub your back.”

  His eyes, ringed in grime and soot, flashed a bright silver that turned her insides to mush. “I don’t suppose it does.”

  No law that said she couldn’t ask questions in the shower, she told herself as he nudged her hips and shifted her around to face him. She lifted the spoon between them. “We’re going to talk business at some point. Fair warning. I want to know what’s going on.”

  He covered her hand and guided the spoon to his mouth, where he slowly licked the chili sauce off, while watching her with twinkling eyes. “Mmm hmm,” he agreed.

  Her knees went decidedly wobbly, and she knew she should be ashamed at how easily he could seduce her into putting everything important in her world on hold, but damn the man, he made it really hard to concentrate. And it wasn’t like there was anything they could do to solve the mystery in the next fifteen minutes anyway. Or the next hour. Or two.

  Or three.

  “I’m serious, Donovan,” she told him, the reprimand aimed more at herself than him. But if she’d been hoping to enlist some of his control in the matter, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Except disappointment wasn’t really what she was feeling at all when his eyes went dark and he slid the spoon from her hands and placed it back on the holder on the stove, deftly popped the lid onto the pot, and turned the burner all the way down to simmer.