Fatal Inheritance

by Sandra Orchard

  The dog barked and howled, prancing back and forth from Becki’s bed to the closed bedroom door.

  Becki grabbed her bathrobe and hopped to the door. The instant she opened it, Bruiser raced out. Becki squinted at the sudden change in light.

  Sarah dashed from the bathroom to her bedroom, her arms loaded with bath towels. “The roof’s leaking.”

  “I’ll go down and get a bucket.”

  Sarah glanced at Becki’s bandaged ankle and unloaded the towels into her arms. “Better let me get the buckets.” Sarah dashed down the stairs, turning every light on as she went. Bruiser raced after her.

  Becki hobbled toward the bedroom, grateful her sister was there tonight even if Becki doubted her true motives for coming were as pure as she’d let on. Sarah had gotten too tight-lipped after Becki alleged Rowan was behind the trouble she’d been having.

  Before she dared leave Sarah alone in the house, Becki needed to figure out why her sister was really here. Josh might think Henry was her attacker, but like he’d said, Sarah still wanted the house sold. And as much as Becki didn’t want to believe her sister would stoop to any means to make that happen, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Becki turned into the bedroom, and the towels spilled from her arms. “No!”

  Above the bed, the plaster bulged. Every couple of seconds, a giant water drop plopped onto the pillow below. Becki wedged herself between the head of the bed and the wall and shoved.

  Sarah ran back into the room, carrying two big pots. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving the bed.”

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.” Sarah moved in beside her, and they shoved the bed out of the way. “Okay, lay down some towels to catch the splash, and we’ll set the pots on top.”

  Rain thrashed the window, and the drops from the ceiling came faster. Becki positioned a pot beneath them. “I can’t believe I slept through this storm.”

  “At the rate it’s pouring, that plaster might not hold.”

  The concern in her sister’s voice surprised Becki. She would have thought Sarah would latch onto this disaster as one more reason she should sell. Sarah certainly had continued to make a big deal about that horrid sulfur smell long after Josh had left.

  Sarah passed her the second pot, and Becki gasped at the sight of her face.

  Sarah’s hand sprang to cover the bruise around her un-made-up eye.

  “What happened?”

  “I...I walked into the door, trying to find the light switch. Is it that bad?”

  Becki squinted at the yellowing mark. “That didn’t just happen.” Her gaze skittered to similar marks on Sarah’s arms.

  Sarah must have noticed, because she immediately dropped her hand and tugged down the sleeves of her pajama top.

  “How did you get those bruises?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about this.” Becki grabbed Sarah’s arm and shoved up her sleeve.

  Sarah shrank back.

  Becki stared at her sister, her beautiful sister, and felt sick and utterly ashamed. “Did Rowan...”

  “I’m fine.” Sarah fussed with the towels.

  Becki threw her arms around her sister. “Oh, Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You should have told me.” Here she’d been thinking such horrible thoughts about her sister when she’d really come here to escape her husband. Had Josh guessed?

  Was that why he’d stared at Sarah so long when she’d first opened the door?

  Becki had thought he was still infatuated...

  Sarah remained stiff, sucking in air in short bursts. “It’s not what you think. It was my fault.”

  Pounding erupted at the back door. Bruiser set off barking again and tore down the stairs.

  “Bec, what’s going on?” Josh’s shout pierced the windowpane above the sound of the storm raging outside, which was nothing compared to the rage Becki felt toward her brother-in-law at the moment.

  Sarah pulled away and tugged her sleeves back down. “You can’t say anything. Please. Promise me.” She grabbed her makeup bag and long-sleeved shirt and darted into the bathroom.

  Downstairs, Josh sounded as if he might take down the door any second. And the dog’s constant howling didn’t help.

  Gritting her teeth against the pain in her ankle, Becki raced down the stairs as fast as she could. “Quiet, Bruiser.” She unlocked the dead bolt and, before she could twist the doorknob, Josh pushed through the door.

  “What’s going on? I saw all the lights come on and your phone’s dead.”

  Becki took one look at the worry etched on his face and flung herself into his arms.

  He drew her close, his heart hammering beneath her ear. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Coming to her senses, she reluctantly pushed away from him. “I can’t tell you.”

  He caught her with a gentle hand at the back of her neck and whisked a tear from her cheek, the compassion in his eyes so heartfelt she yearned to step back into the shelter of his arms.

  “The roof’s leaking,” Sarah said tersely from the kitchen doorway.

  Becki jerked from Josh’s grasp. Whoa, how had Sarah put herself together so quickly?

  Josh’s gaze ping-ponged between them, as if he’d sensed the underlying warning Sarah had sent Becki’s way. His gaze stalled on her, waiting.

  “The plaster’s bulging. I’m afraid it might give way.”

  He nodded but looked far from satisfied. “I’ll take a look. I might be able to throw up a tarp temporarily to ward off any more damage until the rain stops.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s pouring out there.”

  “You didn’t. I offered. Which room is it?”

  “I’ll show you.” Sarah led him upstairs.

  Becki slipped into the downstairs bathroom and splashed water on her face. She never used to lose it so easily. But she’d been overwhelmed by the realization that Sarah’s husband had beat her—she hadn’t been able to help herself when she saw the concern in Josh’s expression.

  “Bec?” Josh called from the kitchen.

  Becki dried her face and shook her head at the mess of curls in her reflection. Couldn’t be helped. Rejoining Josh, she looked around. “Where’s Sarah?”

  “Upstairs changing the bedsheets.” He stepped closer. “What did she say to upset you like that?”

  Becki swallowed at the tenderness in his voice, at his concern for her, not her sister. But she held her emotions in check. “Nothing.”

  His head tilted. “Nothing? That sounds familiar.”

  She smiled at his teasing.

  He caught a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger. “Do you think she had that real-estate agent punch a few holes in the roof to convince you to sell?”

  She chuckled. “Sounds like something I might’ve thought a few hours ago. But I was wrong about her.”

  Josh searched her eyes, and the change in his expression made Becki wonder if he could see right inside her head and read her thoughts. He’d learn the truth soon enough after she invited her sister to stay. He dropped his hand. “I’ll see if I can jury-rig a temporary fix on the roof.”

  “Be careful, Josh, please. I don’t want to see you get hurt on my account.”

  His lips quirked into a quick smile, and he pressed an equally quick kiss to her forehead. A kiss that made her feel like a kid who’d needed rescuing again.

  Not the cared-about woman she’d felt like when she’d stepped into his arms. How was he ever going to believe she could take care of herself if she kept letting him run to her rescue every time anything remotely bad happened?

  As he slipped out the door, Sarah rejoined her in the kitchen. “He’s grown up to be a really nice guy.”
<
br />   Becki watched his flashlight bob in the darkness. “He was always someone you could count on.” She drew in a deep breath and mentally rehearsed her invitation for Sarah to stay.

  Sarah stepped closer to the door and watched Josh, too. “I guess I would’ve been better off waiting for him all those years ago.”

  Becki touched her forehead where Josh had kissed her. If Sarah stayed, would Josh...

  Becki’s invitation turned to paste in her mouth.

  NINE

  Rain lashed Josh’s back as he muscled the ladder through the barn door.

  You’ve got to admit you get a little obsessed.

  Dropping the ladder inside the pitch-black building, he shut out Hunter’s voice. He wasn’t obsessed. Any decent human being would have put up that tarp for Bec.

  A rustle sounded from the far corner of the barn.

  He swung his LED light that way. The beam picked up a light-colored trail of tiny pebbles. He bent to take a closer look. Not pebbles. Tiny yellow bits. He picked up a couple and brought them to his nose. Sulfur.

  He should have guessed. He traced his light along the trail. Another rustle. He flicked his light toward the sound, but the light blinked out. He slapped it against his leg, toggled the switch. Nothing worked.

  The door banged closed.

  He ducked behind a bench.

  “Whew, that’s some wind.” Bec’s flashlight beam bounced around the walls. “Josh? Where are you?”

  He hurried toward her. “Here. Can I borrow that? My light just gave out.” He reached for hers and whispered, “Stick close.”

  He shone the light in the direction he’d heard the sound. A mouse scuffled across the floor and disappeared under a box.

  Bec stifled a squeal.

  Better a mouse than a prowler. Josh turned the light back to the yellow trail and traced it to a shelf where her grandfather had stored fertilizers.

  “What is that?” Bec asked, staying close on his heels.

  “You said a real-estate agent was here today? Winslow?”

  “Yeah, he was already here when I got home.”

  “So he could have been here for some time?” Long enough to pour sulfur down her well.

  “I guess. Why?”

  “This is sulfur. My guess is he poured it down your well to help persuade you to sell. Leaky roofs and contaminated water supplies are just the kinds of things that prompt city folk to pack up and sell.”

  “You think Winslow contaminated my water?”

  Something shifted behind them.

  “Watch out!” Josh pushed Bec to the ground and threw himself over her. Tins and gardening tools rained down on his back. He shielded her head with his arms. Then a crushing weight slammed into him, and his breath escaped in a huff.

  He shoved off the tipped-over shelves, and a puff of chemical-smelling dust bit at his throat.

  Bec coughed.

  Josh scrambled for the light he’d dropped. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  The barn door slammed against the wall, followed by a blast of wind and rain.

  “I’ve got to go after him.” Josh quickly lifted Bec out of the debris and set her on her feet.

  “My crutches.”

  He flashed the light back to the mess on the floor and pulled out her crutches. “You going to be okay here?”

  “Yes, go!”

  Josh skirted around her and dashed for the door, pausing at the threshold to give her enough light to get out safely. “Go back to the house,” he shouted over the wind and swept the beam over the yard. Visibility was near zero in the teeming rain.

  Bec secured the barn door, then peered into the darkness with him, water sluicing down her yellow slicker onto bare calves. “Did you see which way he went?”

  “No.” Thunder rumbled. “We’re never going to find him in this.” Josh strained to listen for the sound of running feet, an engine, something. He tipped the light toward Bec’s face. “Did you lock the house?”

  Her eyes widened. “No.”

  He jogged across the lawn with Bec not far behind, swinging her crutches double time.

  Sarah pulled open the door. “You two okay?”

  “You see which way the guy went?” Josh motioned Bec inside ahead of him.

  “What guy? I didn’t see anyone.” Sarah stepped back as Bec shrugged off her dripping coat.

  No way could the guy have gotten inside without leaving a wet trail. “Okay, stay inside and lock the door.” Josh turned his light back to the yard.

  Lightning fractured the blackness, followed by a bone-shuddering crack.

  The guy could have holed up anywhere, but he had to have gotten here somehow. Josh grabbed his keys from his pocket and jumped into his truck. He sped to the farm lane, where he’d spotted Smith’s car the night Bec had first arrived, but there were no fresh tracks. He angled his truck so the headlights pointed in the direction Smith had claimed to have followed the guy he’d seen run out of her barn. Still nothing.

  He circled the block. But in the pelting rain, he could scarcely see the road in front of his headlights, let alone a car that might be tucked in behind the hedgerow. He drove back to Bec’s.

  The instant his foot hit the porch step, she opened the door. She’d changed into dry clothes, but her hair hung in wet ropes around her face. “You didn’t find him?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think it was Winslow? Why would he come back?”

  Josh checked the phone line coming into the house, then stepped inside. “I don’t know. Where’s Sarah?”

  “She went up to bed.”

  Josh frowned. How could she sleep?

  Bec handed him a towel. “Do you think this could have been Henry?”

  “I doubt it. He’s a P.I. investigating the jewelry theft. Claims he wasn’t in the barn the night you were attacked.”

  “A P.I., for real? Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know.” He’d half expected to find the guy parked in Bec’s driveway when he got back. “The P.I. part is true. The good news is he doesn’t suspect your grandparents of involvement in the jewelry heist.”

  “Well, that’s a relief anyway.”

  Josh glanced at the stairs. “Except it means we have no idea who we just chased out of the barn.”

  “Are you going to call this in?”

  He imagined the captain’s response if he did and shook his head. “No, I’m going to pay Winslow a visit. If he’s just getting home, looking like something the dog dragged in, then I’ll nail him.” Josh picked up Bec’s phone.

  Still dead.

  Had to be from the storm. The line wasn’t cut.

  He hated to leave her not knowing where this guy had disappeared to, but if Winslow was their culprit, this might be their only chance to prove it. “I won’t be long. Keep the doors locked and your cell phone handy.” He ruffled the dog’s ears. “And keep Bruiser nearby.”

  * * *

  The shopkeeper gave Becki an apologetic look and pulled the help-wanted sign from the store window. “Sorry, the position’s been filled.”

  She trudged out the door to Serenity’s main street. What was this? Some kind of conspiracy?

  She’d never been turned away by so many employers in her life, let alone in one day. So much for job hunting taking her mind off last night’s prowler.

  Josh’s sister had warned her the job market was tight. But to be turned down for a waitressing job?

  Becki shoved her crutches into the backseat of the car. Yeah, who wanted a waitress on crutches? She should have listened to Josh and waited a few more days. But now she had a roof repair to pay for. If she didn’t find a job, she’d never be able to afford the upkeep and taxes on the house, l
et alone eat!

  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

  Becki cringed at the memory of the morning’s verse in the devotional booklet Gran kept next to the coffeepot. Was God trying to tell her that she needed to sell the house?

  Is that why she couldn’t find a job?

  Becki slumped into the driver’s seat. Most of the time she managed to ignore all the little God things Gran had scattered about the house. She’d always considered herself a believer, even if she didn’t go to church as regularly as she had during the summers spent with Gran and Gramps. But had she ever really owned a faith of her own?

  If she had, she wouldn’t have ranted about God letting the squirrel build a nest in the chimney. Would she? Or hesitate to help Sarah?

  Except, as much as seeing Sarah’s bruises had broken her heart, she couldn’t see how giving her sister more money would resolve anything. Inviting Sarah to move in with her might, but she still hadn’t been able to voice that particular offer. Not after waking to find Sarah bringing a cup of coffee out to Josh’s truck this morning.

  Apparently, after he’d returned from Winslow’s last night, he’d camped out in Gran and Gramps’s driveway to keep watch.

  Becki couldn’t believe that she’d fallen asleep before he returned. Except that she’d felt safe, knowing he was out there hunting down her prowler.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

  Her gaze shot to the street, the sidewalk, the shop windows. Josh had warned her to stay alert. Was it merely the power of suggestion that prompted the eerie sensation she was being watched?

  Her gaze slammed to a halt at the barbershop window. Or, more precisely, at Bart Winslow standing at the window, looking her way.

  His dad had been snug and dry in his home when Josh had paid him an unexpected visit last night. But Bart hadn’t.

  Josh had found him at the bar on the edge of town, drenched from the rain. Problem was, the puddles under Bart’s feet didn’t prove he’d been at her place. Half the people in the bar had been soaked from their dash for the door from the parking lot.

  Bart disappeared from the barbershop window and an instant later emerged on the street.

  Becki stuffed her key in the ignition, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it. Without evidence, Josh hadn’t been able to do anything more than warn Bart to stay away from her. She didn’t feel like sticking around to see if Bart intended to oblige, but she sure wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d scared her.