by Hope Ramsay
“They think it was arson,” she said, her voice shaky. “The insurance company is balking.”
John Rodgers stopped whistling.
Dash frowned. “Who would want to burn down The Kismet? It was falling down anyway.”
Savannah turned on Rodgers. “It might never have happened if your crew hadn’t left the door unlocked. It was probably some kid pulling a prank.”
“I didn’t leave the door open.” Rodgers turned and headed toward the front door. Dash and Savannah trailed after him.
“Well, shoot,” Rodgers said, “there isn’t any sign of a forced entry.”
“Because your workers left it open,” Dash said.
Rodgers put his fists on his hips. “Or maybe you did, Dash. Maybe you set the fire just like you put the snakes up in the projection room. Maybe you’ve just been trying to make everyone think you’re still the hometown hero.”
“I was never the hometown hero,” Dash said. “And that’s the reason folks think I put diamondbacks in the projection room.”
“Well then, it was probably that old crazy man, Zeph,” Rodgers said.
Savannah had to step in before the two men came to blows. “Zeph isn’t the kind of man who would burn a place like this down. You’ve seen the way he is about the woodwork. And Dash wouldn’t put diamondbacks in the projection room. If he wanted to scare me, all he’d have to do is find a little garden snake. So I have to conclude that your workers were not careful about locking up.”
“Look, honey, you don’t know squat about this. Why don’t you just let me and Dash figure it out?” Rodgers said.
“You’re fired,” Savannah replied.
Rodgers straightened. “We have a contract.”
“Too bad. You didn’t lock the door and look what happened. That’s grounds for dismissal,” Dash said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Fine. Have it your way. I’ll expect you to honor the termination clause in the contract. And you sure aren’t going to get your deposit back. You won’t be able to afford to fix the place up if the insurance doesn’t come through either.” The contractor turned and strolled out of the building.
“He didn’t seem too upset about being fired, did he?” Dash said.
“Are you suggesting that he left the door open on purpose? That’s crazy. Why would he do that?”
Dash turned and walked back into the auditorium. “Well, whoever tried to burn this place down did a pretty bad job of it. The ceiling may be gone, but the lobby’s intact. We can salvage this.”
“I don’t have the money. If I don’t pay Rodgers a cancellation fee, he’ll take me to court, and I can’t afford that either. And the project has gotten way more expensive. I don’t think I could get a loan, and I have a feeling that Angel Development is going to want—”
“I have the money. We’re going to renovate this place, if it’s the last thing I do. And if it’s true that someone tried to burn this place down, then I’m going to find out who the bastard is and I’m going to let him know just exactly how ticked off I am about it.”
Savannah opened her mouth to argue and then stopped. “Okay,” she said.
He turned, a surprised look on his face. “You aren’t going to argue?”
She shook her head. “No. You loved Granddaddy as much as I did. I think he would be happy if you and I teamed up on this. And God knows, if someone tried to burn this place down on purpose, I won’t stand in the way of your beating the crap out of them, when you find them. And also, I need the money.”
He smiled. With both sides of his mouth. And that grin made her heart swell. God, she was falling for him in a big way.
“I’m ready to listen to your advice, too,” she added.
“Apparently so. You just fired your contractor.”
“I did. You’ve been telling me to do that for a while. I should have listened. We need to change the locks on the door.”
“And put up a locked construction fence. Seems like overkill in Last Chance, but I don’t want the arsonist to come back to finish the job. And then we need to talk to those architects.”
“Who would do this?” she asked, feeling suddenly vulnerable. She hugged herself.
“Someone who wanted to stop you.”
“Who?”
He shrugged. “Your ex-mother-in-law comes immediately to mind.”
Savannah shook her head. “Claire is a difficult person, but she wouldn’t break the law. She’d be more likely to turn the law on me because her husband is a high-powered attorney. As a grandparent, though, she doesn’t have many rights. I double-checked before I decided to move Todd out of state. On the other hand, if Greg ever got the wild notion that he wanted to actually visit with his son, then I’d have to accommodate him. Greg and I have a custody agreement that we entered into in the state of Maryland.”
“You just outlined why Claire might be desperate enough to bribe a contractor into setting a small fire. One that might not cause all that much damage, just enough to discourage you. And then there is the mystery of the diamondbacks. Someone put those snakes in the projection room.”
“That’s crazy. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
“She’s the only person I can think of who wants you to fail. Everyone else is rooting for you.”
“My mother wants me to fail.”
“She wouldn’t set a fire in the theater or put venomous snakes where you were likely to get bitten. She’s your mother, and she loves you.”
“You think?”
“I know she loves you. She’s misguided, but she thinks she’s doing the best she can for you and Todd. She wouldn’t burn down her father’s theater.”
“No, I don’t think she would. It would never occur to her because she’s convinced I’m going to fail regardless.” Savannah’s voice betrayed her emotions.
Dash closed the distance between them and gave her a big, warm hug. “You’re not going to fail.”
She shamelessly clung to him. Maybe it was okay to let him hold her up for a few minutes. Maybe she didn’t need to accomplish everything all by herself just to prove a point. She wanted to bring the theater back to life. Did it matter if she needed Dash’s help to make it happen?
CHAPTER 18
A week after the fire at The Kismet, Mrs. Andrews came into Todd’s third-period history class and announced to everyone that Todd needed to go to the principal’s office.
Everyone started to laugh. Todd collected his books and followed Mrs. Andrews. He was trying to think of what he might have done wrong. His hands got all sweaty, and his heart was pumping hard, like the night of the fire, when he thought Mom might get burned up.
He was still a little shaky over the fire. Everyone in school was talking about it. But he didn’t want to. He worried that Mom might decide to go back to Baltimore.
And he’d have to leave Champ.
Even worse, he wouldn’t get a chance to go to Coach Canaday’s football camp. He’d decided that maybe if he got really good at football, Dad would pay attention to him.
He followed Mrs. Andrews into Mr. Middleton’s office. The principal was sitting at his desk, and there was an African-American lady with him.
“Todd, I’d like you to meet Ms. Darrett,” Mr. Middleton said.
“Hello, Todd,” she said in a deep, husky voice.
The principal gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Todd. Ms. Darrett is here to ask you a few questions.”
“About what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Of course you haven’t. We’re just concerned that maybe there are things you want to talk about,” Mr. Middleton said.
“What things?”
Ms. Darrett gave him a smile that Todd could see right through. She was a big, fat poser.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“I don’t want to sit. I want to go back to history class.”
“Sit down, Todd,” Mr. Middleton said.
He sat.
“Now, I just want to ask you a few questions about the man you’re living with,” Ms. Darrett said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, the man you’re living with. Mr. Randall.”
“What about him?”
“Has he ever done anything that made you uncomfortable?”
Hettie pulled her Audi TT into the gravel drive next to her river house. The house had once belonged to her father and it wasn’t anything grand. Just a five-room bungalow with a tin roof. She’d spent her summers in this little house, with its porch overlooking the flowing waters of the Edisto River.
The house sat in a long line of small bungalows owned by other local citizens. Altogether there were about twenty homes here, and the homeowners made up the board of the Edisto Country Club.
It was an unusual country club because there wasn’t a tennis court or golf course to be found. Just a big party pavilion where Allenberg hosted the annual Watermelon Festival barbecue. And the river, of course.
It was the last day of April—time to get the house ready for the summer. In past years, Violet would come out here and do the work. But this year, Hettie had come herself. And she’d almost enjoyed the sweeping and the dusting and the mopping. She was tired when she finally sat on the porch with a glass of sweet tea.
Now that Jimmy was gone, she was thinking about closing up the big house in June, July, and August and spending her summer here. She was thinking about letting Violet take a paid vacation. She was thinking about cooking and cleaning for herself.
She sat on the old porch glider and rocked back and forth, thinking about the mistakes she’d made in her life.
Her reverie was broken a few moments later when a big red Cadillac Eldorado came up the drive. She tensed, expecting Dash to pull into her driveway. He was about the last person on earth she wanted to talk to. He was one of the mistakes she’d made.
But instead of stopping to visit, he drove right past and pulled his big car into the driveway of Miriam’s house. He seemed to have a little spring in his step as he walked from the car to the porch. He entered the bungalow, and a moment later the air conditioner kicked in.
Five minutes later, Savannah’s little Honda came rolling up the drive. She pulled her car in behind Dash’s and headed toward the porch steps.
Dash and Savannah were probably just getting the place ready for the summer. Hettie put it out of her mind until about an hour later, when they both emerged. Before they headed to their respective automobiles, they stopped and embraced.
Hettie felt like a voyeur, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. That kiss was not exactly what a couple of cousins usually shared. It was practically scorching. And you’d have to be a total idiot not to realize that they didn’t really want to leave each other.
Hettie checked her watch. It was almost three-thirty. The middle school let out in about ten minutes, and Savannah probably had to go pick up Todd.
Hettie’s first inclination was to pick up the phone and call Rocky. This was hot stuff. But her second inclination was something altogether different.
The loneliness that she’d been valiantly battling for years settled over her like a heavy blanket. It was one thing to be lonely when you knew a man like Dash was just waiting there in the wings. And even if she didn’t love Dash and had never intended to be with him, seeing him with someone else made her envious.
And not because she wanted him. She just wanted what Dash and Savannah seemed to have found. She wanted to kiss someone like Savannah kissed Dash. Like she wanted to devour him.
Hettie squeezed her eyes shut and told herself that she was being silly. She reminded herself that her independence was more important than hot, sultry kisses.
But wait. Savannah was one of the most independent women Hettie had ever met. And there she was kissing on Dash Randall like he hung the moon. And, of course, Dash had given her a ton of money for the theater, but she didn’t even know it. Dash was doing everything he could to support that independence.
Damn.
She had misjudged him. Badly. He’d changed. He’d grown up. He was a better man than Jimmy ever could have been.
Of course, she didn’t love him. She never would. But mixed in with her own self-pity was a little glimmer of happiness. For Dash. Because Savannah was a wonderful woman.
And now, of course, it all made sense. No wonder Savannah had refused Bill’s proposal.
Hettie smiled. Maybe Rocky wasn’t the first person she needed to tell about this new, interesting development. Maybe Bill needed to know. She had a feeling that Bill might be relieved to find out that it wasn’t him Savannah had rejected. It was just a matter of chemistry.
And then she wondered if Bill knew anything about chemistry.
Todd seemed kind of subdued when Savannah picked him up from school.
“Did you have a good day?”
“It was okay.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Sometimes trying to talk to a twelve-year-old was impossible.
When Savannah got home, a blue Chevy sedan blocked her parking spot in the drive. She parked in Dash’s normal spot and got out of the Honda.
A woman in a navy blue suit greeted her from the porch where she had obviously been waiting. “Savannah White?” the woman said, getting up out of one of the rockers.
“That’s me. What can I do for you?” Savannah headed for the porch. Todd hung back.
“Your aunt said I could wait for you here,” the woman said.
“And you are?”
“I’m Shawna Darrett with the Allenberg County office of the Department of Social Services.” She thrust out her hand. Savannah shook it with as firm a grip as she could muster.
“What can I do for you Ms. Darrett?”
The woman gazed at Todd, who was still standing by the car. “Honey, why don’t you go on inside while I speak with your mother.”
Todd strode forward, up the steps. “Are you going to ask her a bunch of dumb questions, too?”
Savannah turned on Todd. “What questions?”
“Mr. Middleton pulled me out of South Carolina history so I could talk with her. She asked me all kinds of questions about how I got the black eye.”
“How you got the black—honey, everyone knows how you got that black eye.”
“Yeah, but she wanted to make sure it wasn’t because Dash hit me or something.”
“What?”
He shrugged and then glared at Ms. Darrett. “Dash didn’t hit me, okay? And I don’t think his taking me out into the swamp to hunt for frogs was a big deal, either. Or taking me to meet Coach Canaday. Or playing football and Ultimate Frisbee with me.”
“Now, Todd, sometimes when an older man—”
“Zip it, lady. I’m going to walk Champ.” Todd turned and stomped into the house and slammed the door.
“What’s this about?” Savannah asked.
“Is your son always so rude?”
“Sometimes, when a complete stranger arrives and tells him that the only man who has ever shown any interest in him is being accused of abusing him. If you want to see abuse and neglect, try talking to Todd’s father.”
Ms. Darrett smiled. “Now, I know this is difficult. But we’re required to investigate every allegation of abuse and neglect. And someone made a report to our office that Todd was being abused, or was at risk of being abused. That he was living in a household with a man who is a substance abuser and who has a history of violence.”
“Who did this?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. It could have been an anonymous report. We get them all the time. Now, why don’t we sit down and talk about this, shall we?”
Savannah sat in one of the rockers as her fury mounted. This was exactly the sort of thing Claire would pull. It was ten times more effective than arson. And, of course, Claire had the best legal minds at her disposal. While Savannah was here on her own.
“I have a few questions about Dash Ra
ndall. I see that he was a professional baseball player. I looked up his history. Did you know that major-league baseball sent him to rehab on three separate occasions?”
“No.”
“You should have, especially since your son is living in the same house with him.”
“He’s family.”
“Most abusers are.”
“He didn’t abuse anyone. And he’s sober now. He goes to AA meetings every Thursday evening.”
“I know that. But he has a history of addiction and that’s not good. Now, during your time here, has Mr. Randall been involved in any violence? Any fighting or anything like that?”
Savannah’s stomach dropped. She had to be honest with this woman. “Uh, well, he got into a fight at Dot’s Spot a couple of months ago.”
“Dot’s Spot?”
She closed her eyes. “It’s a bar in town.”
“Was he drinking?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Dot Cox, who owns the place. But he did get into a fight with Roy Burdett. And I can guarantee you that Roy was drinking. But aside from that one time I haven’t—”
“So he goes to bars on a regular basis.”
“No. Just that one time.”
“I see.”
“And he’s been showing a lot of attention to your son?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think that’s odd?”
“No. I think it’s wonderful. Todd needs a man around, since his father has been absent most of his life.”
Shawna Darrett interlaced her fingers. She had very long nails painted an electric pink, and there were at least five rings distributed among her ten fingers. She might be wearing a blue suit, but behind that institutional exterior was a real human person.
After a long moment, the caseworker spoke. “Mrs. White, I know this is hard. And I know that Mr. Randall is well off and somewhat famous. But think about what happened up in Pennsylvania with that college coach. Sometimes predators look like the guy next door. They are the kind of men that kids gravitate toward. And I gather that Mr. Randall teaches a whole bunch of children up at that stable of his.”
