He clasped her hand, picked up the brownies and led the way into the van. She stood in the doorway while he swiftly pulled the fold-down bed onto the tabletop.
“These things are quite compact,” she said, then laughed. “I can’t believe I said that.”
She looked nervous, one hand at the base of her neck while the other grasped the edge of the banquette seat, now transformed into the end of the bed. Will pressed down on the foam mattress, securing it into its frame. Then he reached out and gently pulled her close.
“I think this is how we both want the day to end.” He stared down into her eyes. “Isn’t it?”
Her breathless yes was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard and he lowered his lips onto hers, wanting to sear every sensation into his memory. He couldn’t remember when—or even if—he’d felt such abandon making love. From the way she responded, he guessed it was the same for her, too. And when she came, clinging to him, her eyes were alive with passion—and something else. He wasn’t certain what, but he hadn’t seen it in a woman’s eyes for a long time.
Later they crept out of the van whispering and giggling like teenagers. The balmy air cooled their bare skin and Will spread the heavy comforter on the grass. They made love again, more boisterous this time. There was one breathtaking moment when she ran her fingertips along the ridge of his scar, tracing its outline with her lips.
Will tensed, unaccustomed to being touched there, until her mouth left to explore other parts. He closed his eyes, giving himself up to the exquisite sensations of her body on his, her round full breasts and smooth satin skin.
“Tell me about it,” she whispered afterward as they lay, spent, gazing up at the sky.
He knew at once what she meant. He also knew he wanted to talk. So he began, halting at first, until it all came back—the sounds and smells, the cries for help.
She listened in silence and then rose on one elbow to lean over him, her hair across his chest. She studied his face. “You couldn’t have done anything more, Will.”
“Maybe not. I just wish one day I could really believe that.”
“You will.”
Her eyes burned with an intensity he wished he could match. He wasn’t certain he could ever share that kind of optimism but he sensed that if healing was at all possible, Annie was the person who could make it happen.
He tucked her into his arms and stared up at the night sky until he fell asleep.
Much later when he awoke, he lay still, listening to the wind rustling the trees at the stream. Will tightened his arm around Annie’s sleeping form and figured his world was pretty much perfect. But when he rolled onto his side, he thought he caught a movement across the flat stretch of land between his site and the office.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to penetrate the dark. A large shape was moving slowly toward the campground office. He carefully extricated his arm from around Annie and sat up. Some kind of vehicle. It stopped and Will waited for the interior light to come on, but it didn’t. Perhaps some teenage couple seeking a lonely place for a bit of romance.
He smiled and looked down at Annie. A faint metallic noise drew his attention back to the vehicle. Was it a door, opening or closing? Not teenagers, Will suddenly decided. They might coast in quietly, but they’d leave the headlights on. The campground was usually deserted until later in June. They’d have no reason to expect someone else to be there. Will carefully folded back the sleeping bag and tucked it around Annie. He tiptoed into the van and felt around in the dark for his jeans.
Barefoot, he set out across the grassy field. As he got closer, he could see it was a pickup, but he was still too far away to identify anything else about it. Something wasn’t right. He started jogging. The vehicle suddenly lurched forward, made a wide semicircle and headed back to the road. Will watched it disappear into the shadows.
Puzzled, Will noticed a small flicker of light behind the new laundry shed. He stood absolutely still, reading the dark for sounds that had meaning for him. And then he found them. Crackling and hissing. Fire.
He ran toward the van.
SHE WAS FALLING. More like floating, actually. Somewhere in that suspended state between sleep and wakefulness. Annie burrowed deeper into the warmth, remembering, then reached out a hand to feel him. Except he wasn’t there. She was raising her head, groggily, when Will suddenly loomed over her. Annie smiled up at him.
“Get dressed,” he said, his voice urgent.
He looked far too serious for someone who had just been making love with her. Annie sat up and the sleeping bag fell away, exposing her breasts. His smile was quick, tight with disappointment.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“A fire. Someone drove up seconds ago and set fire to the place. I have to get my cell phone and call it in.”
He dashed into the van and she heard crashing inside until Will emerged, now wearing running shoes and a T-shirt. He stood in the doorway with a flashlight in one hand and the phone in the other, using the light to punch in the numbers. “Get dressed, Annie. They’ll be here soon.”
She brushed past him, fumbling in the dark for her underwear and the gauzy outfit that now, in the dead of night with a fire raging, was not only impractical but ridiculous. By the time she stumbled out of the van, Will had disappeared. She strained her eyes against the darkness and thought she saw someone running. A flare of crimson burst skyward and Annie started to run, too.
The sight of the flames licking up the end of a shed near the office stopped her cold. She’d never seen a fire blazing out of control and the awful beauty of it both fascinated and terrified her.
“Will!” she cried.
He appeared from the other side of the building, pulling what looked like a garden hose. “Get back,” he hollered. His face was taut, almost angry. Not at her, she knew, but at the person who’d started the fire.
She moved toward him. “What can I do?”
“Nothing except stay back. I don’t know what’s inside that shed. The workmen could have left acetylene tanks or God knows what. Go back to the van. If something happened to—”
The expression in his face conveyed what he couldn’t. She moved backward, keeping her eyes on him, ready to do whatever he needed. The rumble of an engine distracted her and she moved farther out of the way. Headlights streaked across the road, bouncing up and down as a black Chevy Blazer roared up. The door flew open and Sam Waters jumped clear.
“What the hell?” He stared, confused, first at Annie and then at the blaze.
She pointed to Will, frantically spraying the office and the building adjacent to the shed. Waters ran over to Will, gesticulating madly. She couldn’t hear what he was yelling over the fire. Then the wail of an engine sounded from the road and Annie began walking back to the van. She wrapped her arms around her to ease the shakes. When she reached the van, she pulled the sleeping bag close and sat on the picnic table to watch.
Silhouettes of men dashed back and forth in front of the fire engine’s headlights. Another truck arrived with more men. Shouts filled the air. After a long time, when the column of smoke seemed to have dissipated, Annie went inside the van and lay down on Will’s bed.
She didn’t sleep, of course, but forced her mind to things other than the fire—hardly a romantic end to an unbelievable night. Annie shivered, recalling the touch of Will’s hands on her skin, the taste of his mouth. He’d made love to her slowly the first time, as if every second counted. She could have lain there forever in his arms.
So what happens after tonight? After the summer? In her ideal world, he would definitely stay in Garden Valley, working at the apiary with her and her father. Her father. Cara.
Annie sighed. Life was suddenly getting too damn complicated. Still, she wouldn’t have traded tonight for anything.
Much later, she was awakened again by Will, brushing strands of hair away from her face. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Annie stretched and held out her arms. He grinned, shaking hi
s head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you’d better go home. The place will be crawling with people at daybreak and there is that Garden Valley Grapevine.”
She remembered Sam’s surprise when he saw her. “I think it may be too late for that anyway. I mean, my pickup with the apiary logo is sitting right next to your van.”
“Yeah, guess you’re right. But I still think—”
“I know, but first tell me about the fire. I couldn’t see much from here, but it looked as though most of the building’s frame was still standing when they were packing up their gear.”
“Waters was lucky. We were able to contain it quickly. Lucky for him he happened to be on his way home when he spotted the flames.” Will fell silent.
“What is it?” she asked.
He hesitated. “I shouldn’t really be talking about this to you, but Waters will probably be doing plenty of that himself so…”
“What?”
“He said just before he got to Henry’s place after the turn at the junction, he saw a pickup roaring up Henry’s driveway.”
“And?”
“He said it was Henry’s.”
“What would Henry be doing out at this time of night?” Then she got it.
“Oh no. He doesn’t think Henry had something to do with…that’s crazy. He’s a harmless old man.”
“There’s more.” Will sagged onto the edge of the bed. “We think the fire was started by a Molotov cocktail. You know, kerosene in a bottle with a wick? We found part of a bottle—the kind people use for homemade wine. There was a partial label on it with the name Krause Fine Wines. Apparently Henry bottled his own wine for years…?”
“But it doesn’t make sense, Will. What would his motive be?”
“Try a longtime feud between Sam’s father and Henry, so I’m told.”
“Sam’s father died more than a year ago and I think the hard feelings about the land sale ended long before his death.”
“Well, I don’t know all the history, but I agree that it doesn’t make sense for Henry to set fire to this place, much less his own place.”
“What do you mean? Wasn’t that the work of the arsonist?”
Will looked at her but said nothing.
“Don’t tell me you think Henry Krause—a man well into his seventies—has been running around the valley setting fires? Oh please, that’s too ridiculous to even contemplate!”
“I don’t think it, Annie. But Sam does and he’s doing a damn good job of persuading Captain Andrews and the other men that the idea is plausible.”
“Poor Henry,” she said. “You’ve got to help him, Will.”
“Help him? I’m in a bit of a jam on this one, Annie. I’m a newcomer to the valley and I think Andrews is starting to wonder about my friendship with Henry. All I can do is suggest he contact a lawyer, in case the investigation turns serious.”
“But what about the fire marshal’s report?”
“He’s talked to Andrews about both fires but apparently hasn’t had a chance to see Henry yet. Since there’s been no loss of human life, Andrews said the cases here are a low priority. So most of the investigation has been left to the captain. He’s had some training in gathering evidence and so on, but in the end, he has to hand it all over to the marshal for his analysis.”
“Whenever that happens,” she said.
“Exactly.” He yawned. “It’s almost four in the morning and our day starts in about five hours.”
“Sleep in,” she said. “I plan to. Besides, I have to drive to Shirley’s to pick up her mail. She lives just outside Essex so I might as well do some banking while I’m there.”
He nodded, rubbing his eyes, red-rimmed from smoke and soot. “Sleep would be good.”
Annie lowered her legs off the bed and sat up, smoothing her hair back with her hands. She caught him staring at her. “What is it?”
“You’re so damn beautiful. I just can’t begin to tell you what tonight meant for me.”
Annie grinned. “I think I have an inkling.”
He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet, drawing her against his chest. He smelled sooty and sweaty, but Annie could have stayed there for hours. Finally he kissed the top of her head and said, “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I can manage on my own.”
He tilted her head up to his, his eyes serious. “No way, Annie. I’m not letting you go home alone at this time, after what’s happened tonight. I’ll follow you in the van and make sure you get in the house safely.”
She was tempted to make light of it, but the seriousness of the night’s events were beginning to register. Returning to a dark and empty house was not something she wanted to do. She waited, perched on the picnic table, as he rolled up the blanket and sleeping bag and popped them in the van. After he slid the door closed, he came to her and touched the end of her chin with his finger.
“This isn’t the way I thought the evening would end.”
“No,” she said and glanced away. There was so much she wanted to say but nothing that didn’t seem corny or ring false. They’d made love and both enjoyed the experience. But she’d had a one-night stand once before and didn’t want another. Maybe you ought to have considered that before jumping into bed with him.
“No regrets, I hope,” he said, his voice low.
Annie took a deep breath and turned back. “No regrets,” she echoed. Not yet anyway.
Daybreak was peeking above the distant hills when she drove up to the apiary. Will’s van rolled to a stop behind her, but he didn’t cut the engine. Guess he’s not coming in to finish the night here, she thought. Disappointed, she snatched the key from the ignition and climbed out of the truck.
He insisted on checking the barn doors and came into the kitchen with her, pausing in the doorway while she turned on the lights upstairs. He was still standing there when she came back down. She had a feeling that if she moved close enough—kissed him—he would follow her upstairs in a heartbeat.
But she didn’t.
“Good night, Will,” she said. “Thanks for coming with me.”
He didn’t speak for a long time and Annie knew any move from either of them would break the spell. They’d be falling all over each other again, the way they had on the blanket at the campground. She knew, too, that he was thinking the same thing.
“Good night, Annie,” he replied. “Lock the door behind me.” Then he was gone.
Annie walked quickly to the door, hand on the knob, ready to call him back. Finally she locked the door and went up to bed.
HE LEFT BEFORE the investigating team arrived. Last night—or rather, that morning—he’d lain sleepless till dawn, wondering how to help Henry. Then he’d fallen into a deep slumber for almost an hour, in which nightmare visions of the fire vied for attention with memories of Annie—her long slender legs wrapped around him, her full, luscious lips on his. By the time he rolled out of bed, he knew it was going to be a long day.
Fifteen minutes later, after a cold shower as a result of the power outage precipitated by the fire, Will drove up Henry’s road. The first thing he noticed was that Henry’s pickup was not in the same spot it had been when he left him after dinner last night. As he walked by it, he ducked his head to check the tires. There were chunks of mud clinging to the treads, but Henry could have picked that up anywhere. More damning were the clumps of grass.
Will surveyed the gravel driveway and the gravel road at the end of it. No grass there and not much around Henry’s yard, except for under the ash tree. He looked inside the cab. The key was still in the ignition. He wanted to reach inside and grab it, but knew he’d be in big trouble if it came out he’d been helping Henry conceal evidence. Then he thought to hell with it. He opened the door, took the key, slammed the door shut again and headed for the house.
The screen door to the kitchen was ajar. “Henry!” Will called.
There was no answer but he could see a plate and coffee cup still on the table. Maybe a
t the pigeon coops. He walked around the corner and saw Henry inside one of the coops, cleaning out the bird house. A wheelbarrow loaded with fresh straw was parked at the closed door of the coop. He didn’t hear the van drive up, Will thought. So he might not have heard someone drive away with his truck last night, either.
Henry happened to look his way and waved. “Come on in, but watch where you step.”
Will pushed open the wire door and gingerly stepped around the piles of droppings and soiled straw that Henry was shoveling out. The stench was almost overpowering, though it didn’t seem to bother Henry. Will breathed through his mouth.
“What do you do with all this?”
“I’ve got my own little landfill site out in the back field, but don’t let on to the authorities,” Henry said, winking.
Authorities. Yes. Get to the point, Jennings. “Look Henry, I came by to tell you there was another fire last night.”
“Oh yes?” He didn’t look up, intent on forming another pile with the shovel.
Will waited for him to show some interest, but when he didn’t, quietly said, “At Rest Haven.”
Henry’s head came up sharply. He narrowed his eyes and repeated, “Rest Haven.”
“That’s right.”
“Huh.”
Will gave the old man another few seconds before asking, “Did you hear or see anything unusual about two this morning?”
“That the time? Nope. I was up in my bed sawing logs, as Ida Mae used to complain.”
Will wondered how to begin. Of course, he could just come out and ask Henry if he’d set the fire. But the small, frail man leaning wearily on the shovel looked incapable of making a fire in his own woodstove, let alone tossing a Molotov cocktail from a pickup. As Annie had said, the idea was absurd.
“I, uh, happened to notice your truck isn’t parked in the same place it was when I left here last night.”
Henry’s eyes darkened. “You think so?”
Will shrugged, sensing he was now in over his head metaphorically. “Look, Henry, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I have to. Someone saw your truck—at least a truck very much like yours—leaving the campground right after the fire started.”
The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 17
