The Seductive Impostor

by Janet Chapman

  “Wait,” Larry said, shining his flashlight directly at her face. “Rachel? Have you been drinking?”

  “No, of course not,” she told him.

  “Maybe I should just give you a ride home.”

  “I’m fine, Larry. But thanks for the offer.”

  He darted a look at Kee, then back at her. “I’ll call Willow and have her come—”

  The radio crackled to life in Larry’s squad car, and a woman’s voice came over the speaker. “Domestic disturbance on Hollow Hill Lane,” the radio blared. “Possible shots fired.”

  Larry cursed, already turning toward his car. He stopped and looked back at Rachel. “I’ll check in on you later,” he said. “So don’t panic when I come to your door.”

  “No! It’s okay, La—”

  He had already reached his squad car. He tossed his flashlight in the front seat, jumped in, and put the car in gear before his door even closed.

  Rachel smacked Kee in the arm. “Thank you for telling him you were trying to get me in bed!”

  “Hey, I didn’t hear you offering any excuses for your tongue being down my throat.”

  She was just about to smack him again when a muffled scream came from the bushes about fifty yards away, then a very loud grunt, and the bushes started shaking, and Willow came scrambling out of them.

  “You try that again, you overgrown bear, and I promise you’ll never father children,” Willow hissed as she got to her feet and started brushing down her clothes.

  “I was just making sure that wee little snake didn’t scare a scream out of ya,” Duncan said, crawling out of the bushes.

  “I am not afraid of snakes.”

  “Now, how was I ta know that?” he asked, standing up and rubbing his ribs as he plucked a leaf from her hair.

  Willow swatted his hand away and started marching toward the truck. And of course Duncan was one step behind her, grinning like the village idiot.

  “Your sister scares me,” Kee said, smiling as he rubbed his neck where Willow had brained him with the lamp that morning. “Actually, so do you. You Foster women are hard on men.”

  Rachel patted his arm. “I think you and Duncan will survive,” she assured him, heading after her sister.

  “How’s the knee holding up?” he asked, helping her over the fence.

  “It’s only a little lame. How lucky for us that Larry got that call,” she said, walking around to the back of the truck and picking up the bolt cutters.

  Willow pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and waved it at Rachel. “That wasn’t luck,” she said. “That was me.”

  “You called in a false alarm?” Rachel asked. “Hey, doesn’t Wendell live on Hollow Hill Lane?”

  Willow shrugged. “I think so. Come on, let’s get moving. We’ll have maybe an hour before Larry gets out there, realizes it was a hoax, and gets back to our house to make sure Rachel’s home in bed—alone,” she finished, shooting Kee a pointed look.

  Kee took the bolt cutters from Rachel. “Bring the truck to the gate,” he told her, “while I go destroy public property.”

  “You’re scared to death of snakes,” Rachel reminded Willow as soon as they climbed in the truck and started to pull out of the alley.

  Willow looked over at her and smiled, nodding at the men walking along the fence toward the gate. “Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s one of those guys, Rae, who doesn’t ask permission to kiss you.”

  “Duncan kissed you? Just now, in the bushes?”

  Willow nodded. “And like an idiot, I kissed him back,” she admitted, shaking her head in disgust. “I don’t even like large men with more brawn than brain.”

  “Duncan has a brain.”

  Willow snorted. “Too bad it’s below his belt.”

  “Willy!”

  Willow stopped the truck and put it in reverse, turning in her seat to back through the now open gate. She looked over at Rachel and grinned. “Okay. He’s not that bad. But if he tries to kiss me again, I am going to ‘brain’ him.”

  “Would ya at least turn out your headlights, woman,” Duncan shouted through Willow’s closed window, trying to be heard over the rumble of the loud diesel engine.

  And with that resounding dictate, Willow and Rachel’s covert little mission of goodwill really turned into an adventure.

  Willow got the truck stuck, burying it all the way up to its axles in the children’s sand pit. They had to spend ten precious minutes rocking it out of the sand, and as if that weren’t enough, when the truck finally did come spinning out of the pit, it headed straight into a park bench, splintering it to pieces.

  Duncan opened Willow’s door then, and without saying a word, he plucked her out of the truck, carried her over to a picnic table, set her down, and then walked back and got in behind the wheel himself.

  “Your sister drives like she kisses,” he growled to Rachel, who could only stare at him, unblinking. “And she needs lessons in both.”

  Rachel silently opened her door and got out, and went over and stood beside Kee. “I think they like each other,” she told him, watching Willow glare at Duncan from her perch on the picnic table.

  “Duncan’s just having some fun with her because he knows she doesn’t like men with more brawn than brain.”

  “You heard that!”

  “Your window was down,” he told her, going over and opening the tailgate of the truck.

  Duncan jumped in the back and handed the base to Kee.

  “Slide Puffy to the edge of the tailgate, and I’ll bolt the base to him,” Rachel instructed. “Willy, come help.”

  “I was told to stay put,” Willow called back.

  “And you’re doing a very good job of it,” Duncan said.

  Willow instantly jumped down from the picnic table and ran over to Rachel, grabbing one side of the base and helping Kee wiggle it over the bolts sticking out of Puffy’s feet.

  Rachel could only find three of the four nuts she needed to secure him to the base.

  “Damn. I lost a nut.” She looked around the bed of the truck, checked all her pockets, and then finally started walking around the truck. She stopped and stared at the back right wheel.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Willow said through gritted teeth. “You are not cannibalizing Larry’s truck.”

  “But it looks like the exact size,” Rachel said, bending down and fingering one of the eight lug nuts holding the wheel on. “He’ll just think it came loose and vibrated off.”

  Finally, thanks to Larry’s stolen lug nut, they got Puffy secured to the base and lowered to the ground. Willow walked back ten paces and gave directions to the men to move the statue until she was satisfied that Puffy was level.

  “I hope ya’re enjoying yourself,” Duncan said with a winded growl after five minutes of Willow’s barked instructions, straightening to glare at her. “ ’Cause I’m about to teach you how to properly kiss a man if ya don’t quit being so fussy.”

  “He’s perfect,” Willow snapped.

  Kee took one of the rods from the bed of the truck, knelt down, and threaded it through the bracket at the base. Duncan grabbed the sledgehammer and started pounding it into place.

  They had just finished the third rod when an alarm suddenly screamed through the night. The large doors on the fire station one block away went up, every light in the building came on, and even the one signal light in the center of town changed from flashing yellow to flashing red.

  “Shit,” Kee said, grabbing the last rod and quickly threading it through the bracket. “Come on, finish it,” he told Duncan. “Rachel, get that truck back in the alley.”

  Willow beat her to Larry’s truck. She jumped in, brought the rumbling engine to life, and went spinning across the grass, weaving around the sand pit and park benches, scattering the bolt cutters and blankets they’d used to wrap Puffy all over the park.

  Duncan stopped pounding the rod and straightened, staring in awe when the rear wheel of Larry’s truck lifted off the roa
d as Willow squealed around the corner and into the alley.

  Duncan turned incredulous eyes on Rachel. “Was she dropped on her head as a child?” he asked.

  Rachel smiled back, then ran after her scattered possessions. The fire trucks came screaming out of the station, and she dropped to the ground in the shadow of a bush, watching them speed by in the direction of the harbor. She was just about to get up when Larry’s squad car shot past, his sirens blaring as he also headed toward the harbor.

  “Come on, Rachel,” Willow said, climbing over the fence and running to one of the blankets. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What’s that smell?” Rachel asked, standing and brushing herself off. “Smoke?”

  “Gee, let me guess,” Willow said in a singsong voice. “Fire trucks…something that smells like smoke—do you suppose there’s a fire?”

  “Watch it, sis!” Rachel snapped, picking up the bolt cutters. “I’m going to tell Duncan you really, really like him if you don’t cut it out. You’re getting cockier every time we go on one of these little adventures.”

  “I can fix that,” Duncan said, coming up behind Willow and throwing a blanket over her head. He spun her around, and, ignoring her muffled scream of outrage, he tossed her over his shoulder and headed back across the park. Rachel gasped when he slapped Willow’s wiggling bottom, and burst into laughter when his hand lingered, and patted, and then squeezed.

  “My God, she’s going to kill him,” she told Kee as she fell into step beside him.

  Kee wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her against his side. “Want to bet on who wins?” he asked, bending down and giving her a quick kiss on the mouth. “You Foster girls sure do know how to liven up a date. Any more surprises in store for us tonight?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Rachel whispered, reaching over and squeezing his butt. “I still haven’t given you a tour of my camper.”

  Kee couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun in the company of women. But he did know it had been years since he’d seen Duncan in such a playful mood.

  Kee set the bolt cutters in the bed of the truck, then walked back to the front of the alley to stand beside the others as they looked toward the harbor.

  The harbor was a scene of utter chaos, with men running in every direction, shouting to be heard over the whine of the noisy truck engines. Black smoke billowed into the night sky, reflecting off the red flashing lights of the fire trucks and the blue and white strobes of the sheriff’s car. An ambulance came racing past the park just then, its blaring siren only adding to the urgency of the drama.

  “It looks like another boat is burning,” Duncan said. “Just like the first night we arrived.”

  Kee saw Willow and Rachel glance at each other, their expressions horrified, as something unspoken passed between them. Rachel began to fidget nervously, and Willow hugged herself and rubbed her arms as if overcome by a sudden chill.

  “Let’s go see,” Rachel whispered to Willow.

  The two women started walking toward the harbor.

  “I do believe we’ve been dismissed,” Duncan said, rubbing his ribs. “I feel so cheap. They used us, and now that they don’t need our muscle anymore, they just walk away.”

  “Didn’t you see the look they gave each other?” Kee asked, starting after them, keeping a comfortable distance between them. “They both seemed pretty upset. And it wasn’t just neighborly concern I saw on their faces, but fear.”

  “Of the boat burnings?” Duncan asked. “Do ya think they know something about them?”

  “Rachel did rifle through Alder’s files,” Kee reminded him.

  “And ya didn’t think to ask her what she was looking for?”

  “She said she was looking for Mark Alder’s feet. She and Willow are convinced that Mary Alder, Mark’s mother—who was also Thaddeus Lakeman’s old girlfriend—is the one using the tunnels at Sub Rosa. And that Mark Alder was probably going there to bring her back home.”

  “And were Alder’s feet in his files?” Duncan asked.

  Kee chuckled and shook his head. “Rachel wouldn’t tell me what she was looking for in the files.”

  Duncan also shook his head. “It’s a sad state of affairs when one slip of a female can run circles around a man. You’re losing your touch, my friend.”

  “There’s a female at home who’s been running circles around the six of us for the last five years,” Kee shot back. “Do you think the boat burnings could be tied to Sub Rosa’s missing art?”

  “How?” Duncan asked. “And to what end? It’s probably just a turf war between fishermen.”

  They were approaching the harbor, and Kee watched Willow and Rachel walk up to Larry Jenkins.

  “If you don’t want to start another turf war,” Kee warned Duncan, “over a woman instead of a fishing spot, then keep your distance from Willow in front of Jenkins.”

  Duncan snorted. “Why are women always attracted to men in uniform?”

  “You tell me, Captain Ross,” Kee shot back with a grin. “I remember when you had to beat them off with a stick.”

  Townspeople had started to gather on shore, some in only their bathrobes, all watching in horror as the fishing boat, not two hundred yards out, burned on its mooring. The whine of the fire engines drowned out their comments as they labored to pump water through the hoses being dragged out to the burning boat by firefighters in another, much smaller boat.

  There was a sudden explosion, a collective flinch from the audience, and Kee saw Larry Jenkins pull Willow and Rachel into the shelter of his arms to shield them with his body.

  Kee gritted his teeth and stood where he was.

  “I can make sure Jenkins’s truck is missing more than just a lug nut,” Duncan offered, scowling at the deputy sheriff, who was taking his damned good time to release the women.

  Kee shook his head and moved into the crowd. He watched the firefighters quickly pull back from what was left of the burning hull as debris from the explosion rained over them, the water, and the remaining boats in the harbor.

  Another boat with four firefighters was dispatched, and the two boats then focused their efforts on putting out the small fires on the other moored boats caused by the falling fireballs of debris. Several fishermen in rowboats started out from the docks, desperate to save their livelihoods.

  Rachel stepped away from Jenkins and scanned the crowd of onlookers. She looked startled when she spotted Kee, as if she’d forgotten about him. She pivoted and started walking toward one of the fire trucks.

  “Look for anyone with a beard who fits Jason’s description, and keep an eye on him,” Kee told Duncan before heading after Rachel.

  “Ronald, do you know the name of the boat?” Kee heard Rachel ask a firefighter standing beside one of the fire trucks.

  Ronald turned from watching the gauges on the truck, his face suddenly lighting into a smile. “So you’re talking to me again?” he asked loudly, to be heard over the rumble of the engine. “How’s the knee?”

  Kee kept his distance and looked out at the harbor, as he continued to listen.

  “It’s fine,” he heard Rachel say. “Do you know the name of the boat that’s burning?” she repeated, even more loudly. “And is the owner here? Has he been notified?”

  “What are you, a reporter now?” Ronald asked.

  Kee turned just enough to see Ronald give Rachel a calculated grin. “Have breakfast with me later, and I’ll give you an interview.”

  “We’re losing water pressure!” someone yelled from the shoreline.

  Ronald snapped to attention and turned back to his gauges. “It’s the Sea Dancer,” he shouted over his shoulder as he turned a valve. “I don’t know who owns it, but I think the guy’s on the dock.”

  Rachel took off in the direction of the dock. Kee caught up with her just before she reached it, grabbing her shoulder to stop her. She turned around with a gasp of surprise.

  “Kee,” she said, looking past him toward t
he crowd. “I thought…what…where’s Duncan?”

  “You need to stop, Rachel,” he softly told her, guiding her away from the crowded dock and the noise of the fire engine. “The last thing I want is for you to draw attention to yourself.”

  “I’m not. I live here. It’s normal that I’d be curious. And why is my drawing attention to myself the last thing you need?”

  “Because whoever is burning these boats won’t like you asking questions,” he quietly explained. “What’s going on, Rachel? Why are these boat burnings so important to you?”

  “They’re happening in my town.”

  Kee shook his head. “Not good enough. Why were you rifling through Alder’s files today? You were looking for the blueprints of the boat that burned last week, weren’t you?”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, stared up at him, and remained mute.

  Kee took hold of her shoulders. “Rachel, asking questions about arson can be dangerous.”

  He looked out at the harbor, then back at her. “How are the boats tied to—” He suddenly stiffened. “Dammit. This does involve Sub Rosa,” he whispered, leaning down to look her in the eye. “They’re smuggling boats, aren’t they?”

  She still said nothing.

  “And you and Willow know that for a fact, and you’re trying to…to what, Rachel? Even if you know they’re smuggling boats, what do you hope to accomplish by looking through Alder’s files and talking to the owner of the boat? What are you looking for?”

  When she still said nothing, Kee shook her. “Dammit, Rachel, you have to trust me! You have to tell me what’s going on so I can protect you.”

  “I am not in danger,” she finally said, her expression defiant. “I want to find Willow and go home.”

  “Everything okay over here?” Larry Jenkins asked, walking up to them. “Your sister’s looking for you,” he said, darting an accusing glare at Kee before giving his attention back to Rachel.

  “I was just going to find her,” Rachel said, pulling out of Kee’s grip and turning toward the crowd. “We’re leaving.”

  “I can’t walk you home,” Larry said. “I have to stay here.”

  “I’ll see they get home safely,” Kee interjected, nodding to Jenkins, who didn’t seem to care for his offer.