Danger in Deer Ridge (Blackthorne, Inc.)

by Terry Odell

  Elizabeth tousled his hair. “Oh, so maybe ghosts do leave spoor?”

  He chewed his lip. “Just because we didn’t find anything here doesn’t mean there’s nothing downstairs. Maybe that’s where the ghosts are. And if we’re together, I can keep an eye out while you’re busy with the washing machine.”

  She’d have hugged him if she didn’t know he’d rebuff her while he was playing hero. A role no eight-year-old should have to assume. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Will’s heroics didn’t extend far enough for him to take the lead, but he followed her downstairs and into the dimly-lit laundry room, sweeping his flashlight from side to side. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

  Elizabeth made a point of peering behind the washer and dryer. The puddle of water filled her with dismay. Until she remembered Grinch saying he was something of a handyman. When opportunity knocked, it was smart to open the door.

  Technically, she should probably call the rental management company—she hadn’t yet called about Butch Logan’s proposal. But at the moment, she was more curious about Grinch and Dylan.

  The phone rang, and Will took off for the stairs. “I’ll get it.”

  “Will! No. Let the machine pick up. Remember? It’s probably another junk call.” She’d registered the number for the “Do Not Call” list, but that would take a month. And of course, Will didn’t stop. She knew he’d be listening to the message, itching to grab the receiver.

  Robo-calls should be outlawed. She’d started getting them before she was in the house for twenty-four hours. Every time the phone rang, her blood pressure went over the top. Despite Grace’s assurances that Victor had bought her faked death, she expected to hear his voice every time she answered the phone.

  She eyed the wet clothes in the washer. Would running the dryer be safe if the floor was wet? Electricity and water weren’t a good combination, but the dryer plug was well above the floor. She decided not to risk it and went upstairs to deal with Will and the phone.

  Three steps from the top, she heard the last few words of the factory-installed male voice on her answering machine. Then Grinch’s voice. Then Will’s. “Mom. It’s Mr. Grinch. Can I get it? Please?”

  Since he’d remembered to ask, she agreed.

  Will lifted the handset. “Parker residence.”

  Pleased that he’d used the proper greeting, she crossed into the kitchen, smiled at Will, and reached for the phone.

  “Okay. Here’s my mom,” Will said as he handed it over.

  “Hello,” she said.

  Grinch’s voice came through the headset. “I promised Dylan burgers and ice cream, and thought you and Will might like to join us. I can pick you up on the way.”

  Something about the confidence in his tone made her glance at Will, who hovered expectantly.

  “Did you mention this to Will?” she said, perhaps a bit too snippy. But you didn’t ask a kid first. You started with the parents. Grinch should know that.

  “Of course not.” His tone shifted, matching hers. “I said, ‘May I speak to your mother, please.’ “

  “I’m sorry.” She felt heat rush to her face.

  “So, is that a yes?”

  She checked the time, thinking of the chicken breasts she’d forgotten to thaw this morning. And that two minutes ago she’d wanted to talk to Grinch, anyway. Why did he get under her skin? “Sounds great. And how are you at fixing leaky washing machines?”

  “I’m handy with a wrench. I take it you’re talking about yours?”

  “Yes. I did my first load of wash, and now there’s a puddle on the laundry room floor. Is it safe to run the dryer?”

  “How much water? Is the entire floor wet?”

  “No. Only behind the washer.”

  “Should be safe, but I’ll take a look after dinner. We’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Twenty minutes later, Will was dressed in a clean shirt, drumming his feet against the side of the couch as he sat, waiting impatiently. “When will we get a TV? You said we’d have one here. There’s a satellite dish, so why can’t we have TV?”

  “We will. The moving van comes tomorrow, remember. And then we have to get it hooked up. Patience.”

  Elizabeth had changed her clothes as well. For a burger dinner with someone who rubbed her the wrong way, she’d spent far too much time deliberating over the proper wardrobe. She and Will had left with little more than the clothes on their backs. Nothing to tip Victor off that they were going any further than the movies and dinner. She’d risked allowing Will a few of his favorite books. She didn’t think Victor had a clue about Will’s possessions, and she’d prayed he wouldn’t notice a few books missing from the multitude in Will’s room.

  They’d had burgers that night, too, she recalled. On the road, over a hundred miles from home. She checked the fit of her new jeans, probably appropriate for a casual Sunday dinner out. She’d chosen a simple long-sleeved tee in a dull mustard yellow. Totally wrong for her coloring. Which made it totally right for Elizabeth Parker. Low-heeled shoes, because she’d always worn heels. A touch of mascara to disguise her light eyelashes, some lip gloss, and she was finished. Why did she feel like she was dressing for her prom?

  Tires crunched down the driveway.

  “They’re coming!” Will cried.

  She heard the car door open, then slam. She grabbed her shoes and rushed to the window. Had he checked to see if it was Grinch’s truck? Or was he racing out into the arms of someone bent on kidnapping him? “Will!”

  Her stomach roiled, then relaxed when she recognized the pickup. She slipped her shoes on and composed herself. She wasn’t going to chew Will out in front of anyone. A simple reminder, she told herself. Delivered with a patient smile. Later.

  At least he was waiting on the porch. And maybe he had checked the truck, which was coming to a stop near the porch.

  She found her purse, went out and locked the door behind her. Giving Will’s shoulder a squeeze, she murmured, “Company manners. And remember the rules.”

  And was rewarded with an eye-rolling “M-o-m.”

  Grinch swung out of the truck and strolled toward them. His gaze locked with hers, as if he expected something. What? An apology? A thank-you? A lecture?

  He flashed that crooked grin and something low in her belly fluttered.

  Get a grip. It’s burgers. Ice cream. And a leaky washing machine.

  “Hi,” she said. “We’re ready.”

  He nodded in return, then opened the rear door of the truck. “Boys can sit in back.”

  Will climbed in and immediately started chattering away with Dylan. For some reason, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her entire brain was tied up absorbing this … man in front of her. This exceedingly male man.

  Creased jeans, polished cowboy boots, and a button-down green pinstripe shirt that fit perfectly and was definitely his color. When he took her elbow to help her into the truck, she was inundated with the feel of his strong hands, even through the fabric of her shirt. And his scent. So different from the expensive cologne Victor wore. Grinch smelled fresh, woodsy, and … male.

  She busied herself with fastening her seatbelt. Driving to town with this … man … beside her was definitely going to be a challenge.

  * * * * *

  Grinch checked to make sure the boys were properly buckled in. He glanced at Elizabeth, who seemed to be taking great pains with her seatbelt.

  Judging from the way Elizabeth had greeted him, Grace hadn’t talked to her yet. Either that or Elizabeth had miraculously acquired a poker face to rival Dalton’s. He’d trust that Grace knew Elizabeth well enough to handle the hows and the whens of explaining the situation. Which meant his current mission was to try to bridge the chasm he’d created when he’d shown up with a sick kid.

  “Thought we’d go down to the Bear’s Lair,” he said when they reached the crossroads into town. “They’ve got good burgers, and they’re kid friendly. It’s down in the Park, about twenty minutes
from here. Simple country fare, though. Hope that’s all right.”

  “Of course. I’m sure the kids will love it. And I’ll confess I’ve had my fill of fast food chains.”

  “They’ve got more than burgers, if you’re ready for a bigger change.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy with anything.”

  He hung a left, and they drove in silence for a few miles. Will was talking about ghosts and spoor, and a glance in the rearview told him Dylan was listening with wide eyes and an open mouth.

  Elizabeth fidgeted with her purse. Her gaze flitted from him to the boys and out the window. Based on the people he dealt with on ops, he’d swear she was trying to decide if it was in her best interest to talk. Which made total sense. He should wait her out, let her be the first to speak. But her scent filled the cab of his truck, and he needed a diversion before a long-neglected part of his anatomy made itself known. How to put her at ease? Damn, he didn’t do small talk.

  He cleared his throat. “So, what’s the problem with your washing machine?”

  She seemed relieved he’d asked. But he’d bet six month’s pay that she wasn’t trying to bring up her laundry problems. Any start was a good start, though.

  “There was a puddle of water on the floor after I did a load of wash. The machine came with the house, so I don’t know what condition it’s in. It’s noisy, but it seemed to work okay.”

  “Might be a loose connection or a leaky hose. What kind of noise?”

  From the backseat, Will chimed up. “It sounded like a ghost. And clunking. And then a big screech.”

  “Do you have a lot of experience fixing things?” Elizabeth asked. “You said you were a pilot.”

  “I am. But we lived in an old house, and something was always in need of repair. My dad was the local go-to guy if someone needed something fixed. I learned from him. I’ll answer the occasional call. Like I did for Rhonda.”

  There was a momentary hesitation, as if she was meticulously choosing her words. “Do you live with your parents?”

  He shook his head. “No. I live in their house, but they decided they wanted to travel. They’re cruising the Galapagos now.”

  “I bet they miss Dylan, though. Do they visit often?”

  “It’s been a while,” he said. He shook his head and frowned, hooking a thumb toward the backseat. “Little pitchers,” he said in an undertone.

  She nodded. More silence. Even the boys had quieted. Which Grinch knew was a precursor to, “Are we there yet?”

  Elizabeth jumped in to fill the silence. “Hey, guys. How many animals can you see out there?”

  With the kids busy pointing at horses and cows, they hit the outskirts of town.

  “There’s a horse. On top of that roof,” Dylan said.

  “Doesn’t count,” Will retorted. “It’s not alive.”

  “Does so,” Dylan said.

  Elizabeth twisted in her seat. “You know, I don’t remember saying the animals had to be alive. And since we’re in town now, there are no more pastures. See. Over there.” She pointed. “There’s an elk on that building.”

  Grinch made mental notes on the “distract and change the subject” technique Elizabeth was using. This assignment might have some side benefits.

  Moments later, he swung into one of the few empty slots at the far side of the restaurant’s parking lot. When they stepped inside the Bear’s Lair, Dylan’s mouth dropped.

  Grinch grinned. “Lots of teddies here, aren’t there, sport? Think you can spot one like yours?”

  Dylan, head tilted back, scanned the walls. Grinch looked at Will. He probably thought teddy bears were too babyish for a big boy of eight. But instead of bored nonchalance, an almost tearful expression slid over Will’s face. Elizabeth looped her arm around his shoulder and crouched, whispering something in his ear. He nodded solemnly, then wiped his eyes.

  The hostess greeted them and led them to a booth, fussing over the boys. Will insisted on sitting next to Dylan, which meant the adults would be seated across from the kids, putting him next to Elizabeth.

  Somehow, over the conglomeration of cooking smells, he caught her scent. Nice. Really nice. He studied his menu, although it hadn’t changed since he and his high school gang came here. He used it as an excuse to study Elizabeth, who was discussing choices with Will.

  Even this close, she didn’t resemble the socialite in the pictures he’d seen. He got another whiff of her and wondered if she’d changed her scent along with her appearance. She didn’t smell like expensive perfume, and he had a feeling she would have worn it before. Right now, he didn’t think she could smell any better, no matter what perfume she might have worn in her other life.

  Down, boy.

  He considered the burrito for about a nanosecond before opting for a more gut-friendly burger, hold the onions. After all, she had asked him to her place. True, it was to check out the washing machine, but making a good impression mattered.

  Service was quick, and before long they were chowing down.

  He couldn’t figure out what to say to Elizabeth and tried another tack. “So, Will,” he said between bites. “You like baseball?”

  In response, he got a shrug reminiscent of Dylan’s. He tried again. “Football?”

  Almost frantically, Will sought his mother. She reached across the table and touched her son’s hand. Grinch’s brain said there was no reason to think about her fingers on his own hand, but stirrings below made it more and more difficult to listen.

  You’re supposed to be making friends. And if she’s an assignment, she’s totally off-limits.

  Maybe he should have ordered the burrito.

  “Will had major surgery a few years ago,” Elizabeth said. “He couldn’t participate in sports.”

  “I’m fine now,” Will said. “I can play baseball. And football.”

  Sidetracked or not, Grinch knew an opening when he saw one. “There’s a summer program at the rec center. They have lots of different activities. I was thinking about signing Dylan up.”

  “Can I, Mom?” Will said. “Please?”

  Elizabeth smiled. Will’s eyes brightened and his smile broadened. Grinch shifted in his seat as his body gave a happy response as well.

  “We’ll see,” Elizabeth said. She turned to Grinch. “Do you have any information on the program?”

  “It’s online,” he said. “I can email you the link.”

  She pushed her plate aside and moved her coffee in front of her. “No Internet.”

  He almost expressed his surprise, then realized it was probably a sanction Grace had imposed. Tracing people through Internet use required some sophistication, but if her husband had the contacts, it wasn’t out of the question.

  “We don’t have a TV yet, either,” Will said. “But Mom said we’re going to get it soon. The moving van comes tomorrow.”

  “You could watch at my house,” Dylan said. “And play Lego. I have lots of toys.” Grinch couldn’t tell if he was boasting, or if he’d noticed how few toys Will had and was trying to be nice. Whatever his motive, he was talking. Interacting. Smiling. Something loosened in Grinch’s chest.

  “Can I, Mom?” Will asked. “Tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know, Will,” Elizabeth said. “The movers are coming.”

  “All the more reason for Will to come over,” Grinch said. He shot Elizabeth a look he hoped said, “I’ll explain later.”

  “All right.” Elizabeth grinned at Dylan. “Ask Will to build you one of his special Lego forts.”

  “Thank you,” Grinch mouthed.

  She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, as if to say, “For what?” He wondered if that gesture was an old habit. Most likely. It took a lot of conscious effort to get rid of automatic responses.

  Dylan shoved his plate forward. “I’m done. Now can we have ice cream?”

  Grinch laughed. “You’ve got it.”

  When they’d finished their ice cream, Grinch stood. “All right, sport. You’ve
had enough Coke to float away. Let’s hit the head before we hit the road.”

  Dylan gave him a questioning look, and some of his former hesitation showed. Wanting to please, but not sure what to do. Grinch realized he’d never used the term with Dylan, and it probably wasn’t part of a normal five-year-old’s vocabulary. Will seemed puzzled as well. “Restroom. Bathroom. On a ship, you call it the head.”

  “Cool,” said Will. “I’m going to hit the head too.”

  Elizabeth wiped her mouth. “Then I’ll hit the ladies’ head.”

  As they walked to the rear of the restaurant, Will stuck by Grinch’s side, ignoring his mother. She hesitated in the alcove, pretending to check her purse until he pushed the door to the men’s room open and followed the boys inside. Grinch wondered if Elizabeth routinely followed Will to public restrooms. He was definitely too old to use the women’s facilities, and probably didn’t appreciate a maternal chaperone escorting him to the door and hovering outside. But that was the way things were these days, whether you were on the run or not. At least he had a son. He wondered how he’d handle things if he had a daughter.

  They regrouped and trekked across the parking lot. On the way, he noticed that Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast. While it averted her face from curious eyes, she wasn’t paying attention to any eyes that might be making her. It was a delicate balance, but she’d have to learn to keep her eyes open without it appearing she was casing a room.

  A gust of wind swirled through the lot. Scattered raindrops painted dots on the asphalt, interspersed with bouncing hail. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself. “What happened to the sunshine?”

  Grinch gazed at the rapidly darkening skies. “I guess the front got here sooner than expected. They’re talking snow flurries, but it was supposed to hit well after midnight.”

  “Snow? It’s June,” Elizabeth said.

  “Welcome to the Colorado mountains.” Grinch grinned, grabbed Dylan’s hand and jogged toward his truck. “Where you can get all four seasons in a day.”

  Will’s laughter followed them to the truck. As they drove through the lot to the highway entrance, Will leaned forward. “Hey, Mom. Isn’t that Mr. Logan’s truck?”