Asking For It (29 page)

"Oh. Well. We're going to be using the water from that stream for our housing project, down by Mineral Road."

Kate went absolutely still.

"It would be convenient if you happened to know the gallons per minute of the stream. That way I wouldn't have to — Well, it would be convenient."

"No, that's impossible," Kate mumbled. How could Griffith's company be building a housing project down on Mineral Road? He hadn't known where Sagebrush Valley even
was
. Besides — " There's no water down there," Kate blurted. It was how development had been driven to a marvelous stand place in the first place, the lack of water to Sagebrush Valley.

"Except for the water from Wild Tail Creek," Ms. Marshal, of Blaine Development, explained. "That's why I need to know how many gallons per minute the stream gives."

"But — " Kate could feel her brows drawing tightly together. "But Wild Tail Creek doesn't even go down by Mineral Road." She knew that much, anyway.

"It doesn't?" The Marshal woman suddenly sounded much less sure of herself. "But I'm positive Wild Tail Creek is the one we're going to use."

"It couldn't be." Kate was desperately trying to figure this out. Griffith had landed here completely disoriented. He'd never heard of Camp Wild Hills, or even Sagebrush Valley.

"I believe some sort of channel is going to be built," Ms. Marshal explained. "Causing the stream to flow down to Mineral Road."

Kate stopped then. A channel...diverting Wild Tail Creek? Frowning, she wheeled around in her office chair. Intensely, she stared at the map on her wall. How could the creek go down to Mineral Road...? Her eyes scanned the map frantically. It couldn't flow down there...unless its course was changed up near the top, above where it flowed down to Camp Wild Hills.

A chill swept through Kate.

No. Impossible. No.

"
Do
you know how much water's in the stream?" Ms. Marshal asked.

"But Griffith didn't know where he was..." Kate murmured under her breath, trying to hang onto that older idea.

On the other hand, Marshal here said he
was building a housing project five miles down the hill. And he was digging a channel for the water from Wild Tail Creek
.

Piece by piece, the blocks began to fit together in Kate's head. Griffith's company, Blaine Development, was building a project down the hill. He planned to divert Wild Tail Creek. That meant...

Griffith had lied. About
everything
. He'd known damn well where he was. The whole time. He — he was planning to take her water! Of course he'd known where he was. He'd known — Oh, God. He hadn't told Kate one stick of truth since he'd stumbled into her dining hall that first night, half dead.

Her hand on the telephone began to shake. She'd done it. Again. Unbelievable. Incredible.

Griffith was not the man she'd thought he was. He was an impostor. Filthy, through and through. A worm.

Oh, maybe he hadn't landed here on purpose. There probably
was
some angry business rival who'd beat him up and dumped him here. That rival might even have intended to sour Griffith's bid to get at her water.

But, boy, hadn't Griffith managed to turn things around. He'd taken one look at her, and devised a whole new conniving scheme. Make her fall in love with him. Hand him over whatever he still happened to need. Ha. No wonder he hadn't wanted the police involved!

Kate was trembling from the inside out. She'd tried so hard to avoid this fate. For
eleven
years she'd avoided men and relationships — only to fall for the worst male she could possibly find. Hadn't she known, just
known
, it was too good to be true?

And, once again, it wasn't her own welfare she'd put on the line, but the welfare of those she was sworn to protect. If she'd given in completely to Griffith, if she'd let him get hold, somehow, of her water, it would have been her campers who'd suffer, far more than herself.

"I have no idea how much water flows in the stream," Kate told Ms. Marshal, Griffith's flunky from Blaine Development. "But it doesn't really matter, dear. You aren't getting access to one drop of it."

"Ex — Excuse me?"

Kate stood up. She wished she had the woman in front of her. "Griffith Blaine isn't getting his filthy hands on my campers' water. He can forget it. He doesn't own the rights to that water and
he will never get them
. Do you hear me? Do you hear?"

"I — I — " Ms. Marshal sounded satisfyingly dismayed.

"I don't know what he thought he'd get me to agree to do, but he can think again. He can think ten more times. I'm not fooled by him any more. You hear? I know what he is." Kate emitted a harsh laugh, "Oh, I know
exactly
what he is." The kind of scum who'd use a woman's heart in order to further his own, nefarious schemes. And she'd almost let him!

The Marshal woman from Griffith's office began to backpedal. "I'm very sorry if I — "

"You're not sorry about anything. And if you want to know how much water is in that stream, well you can just — you can just — " Kate raised an eyebrow. "You can just call my lawyer."

"I — Well, uh — "

Kate was delighted with the Marshal woman's flustered noises. "His name is Ricardo Ascensios and he'll be contacting you, believe me, if you or Griffith try anything the least bit screwy."

There was an odd gasping sound on the other end of the phone.

"Just try it," Kate said, and hung up. She was shaking, literally shaking in her boots. Griffith. She'd nearly fallen for the man. She
had
fallen for him, God help her.

And he'd been scheming to steal her water the whole time. A snake.

Would she never learn? Was she hopeless?

Apparently.

~~~

What? Deirdre thought, staring at the telephone in her hand. Outside her open office door, project managers and secretaries were tramping toward the elevator, going home.

Meanwhile she stared at her telephone, wondering if she'd lost her mind.

What had that Darby woman said? Ricardo Ascensios...was her lawyer?

But — that was impossible. Ricky had never heard of Camp Wild Hills. He'd never heard of Sagebrush Valley, for that matter. He didn't even
know
this woman.

And yet the woman had known Ricky. She'd known his name, and she'd called him her attorney.

Slowly, Deirdre set the telephone into its cradle. Was there more than one attorney named Ricardo Ascensios?

But the cold weight settling in her stomach argued against it. Kate Darby must have been referring to the very same attorney named Ricardo Ascensios that Deirdre knew.

Deirdre sat in her padded leather office chair while the office emptied around her. She sat until the last load of people went down in the elevator. The whole time, she kept thinking, trying to work it out.

She'd promised herself not to get paranoid about Ricky, not to imagine he didn't actually like her.

But...he was the lawyer for Camp Wild Hills? He
knew
about the camp and, presumably about Wild Tail Creek?

Why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't he explained? He'd only said
maybe
his law firm might get involved. He hadn't said they
were
.

Deirdre sat there and thought. She arranged the facts this way and that. She'd promised herself not to get paranoid.

But she was very afraid this wasn't paranoia.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

What had that phone call been about?

Griffith could see that something was wrong. Kate came back downstairs and participated in the festivities associated with the last supper of the camp session, but her smiles were stiff.

And she wouldn't look at him.

Fear lodged in his stomach. The fear wasn't rational. He couldn't imagine how a phone call to Kate could change her feelings toward him. It was just that he was so nervous about his coming success or failure in this novel venture: a real relationship. As soon as dinner was over, Griffith promised himself he'd get Kate alone. He'd find out what was upsetting her. He'd see if he could do anything to help.

But dinner seemed to last forever. Prizes were awarded — for the best at this, the best at that. Kate had arranged for every single camper to win an award in something. A month ago Griffith would have been annoyed by the drawn-out distributions. Tonight he was filled with warm pride. Kate would make sure everybody felt special.

Hopefully, later, she'd do the same for him.

At last, the ceremonies were over. Campers were dismissed from the dining hall to their bunkhouses. With a whispered request to Orlando to take charge of his own campers, Griffith hurried after Kate, who was striding quickly in the opposite direction.

"Wait," he said, nearly laughing. It was as if she were determined not to speak to him.

Kate stopped. Was it Griffith's imagination or did her spine tense?

"Kate?"

She turned. The expression on her face stopped Griffith in his tracks. It was an expression of complete and utter loathing.

Griffith could barely breathe. Kate had looked at him like this before, at the very beginning. It hadn't bothered him back then; he couldn't have cared less.

Now he felt speared by the bitter hatred in her eyes.

"What?" he managed to ask. "What is it?" He ran a frantic catalog of his recent sins. But she already knew about the boxing lessons with Orlando, and that he'd borrowed money from Lupe for new clothes. What could it be?

Kate sank her weight onto one hip and raised an eyebrow. "You want to talk about it?"

"Yes." Of course he did. Why was she looking at him like this?

"Up in my office, then." Kate sounded disgusted, as if any discussion would be a waste of time.

Griffith followed Kate up to her office, his emotions swinging between utter dread — he must deserve whatever was coming — and shock. He'd thought she liked him!

Inside her office, Kate sat, while indicating the chair across from her desk with a scornful smirk.

"It was the phone call," Griffith ventured. He did not sit.

Kate, steepling her fingers, nodded. "The phone call was from a woman named Deirdre Marshal. You know her?"

Griffith felt like he'd been knocked in the head. He'd forgotten all about Deirdre and the people at Blaine Development. He'd supposed they'd forgotten him. Certainly they hadn't managed — or perhaps, tried — to find him in two whole weeks. "She found me?"

"No." Fingertips tapping each other, Kate peered up at Griffith. "I don't believe she had any idea you were here. Or cared. She wanted to know about water flow, how much water Wild Tail Creek could deliver."

Griffith sat then. His knees practically buckled. "Oh." His gaze went, despite himself, to the map behind Kate.

"Oh," Kate repeated. "I don't know what you thought you were doing, Mr. Blaine. I don't know what you thought you'd convince
me
to do, but the jig is up. I know who you are now."

"You know who I — " Griffith stopped and sucked in his lips. Deirdre had no idea he'd made a new decision. She thought they were still building Wildwood. So she'd asked about water flow, something the bank must have asked her as they checked Blaine Development's numbers, making sure they'd sufficiently researched the situation.

He let out his breath and felt the spear of pain in his chest begin to squeeze out. "Maybe I should explain." And he could explain. He could make Kate see he meant no harm. He wanted, in fact, to help. That look would go away from her face.

"Oh, I don't think so." Kate's smile was a scornful smirk. "There's little you could say, Mr. Blaine, that I would be inclined to believe. In fact, nothing. Not a single thing that issued from your filthy lips would I credit with a grain of truth."

Griffith felt a two-by-four come at him.
Filthy lips
? She'd kissed those lips, not twenty-four hours ago. She'd looked at his lips, at his everything, like he was important, like he mattered.

But she was hurting, Griffith reminded himself. She was under a false impression. "Deirdre doesn't know," he told Kate. "I'm not taking the water."

"Damn right you're not taking it." Kate's harsh laugh stripped Griffith's nerves. "You have no rights to it, for one thing. It's owned by the California Golden Holding Company. They own the property where the stream begins. And I own the lease on the property."

"Ah..." Blaine Development owned the property, as of nine months ago. Griffith owned the water rights. And Kate's lease mentioned nothing about her rights to any water.

Kate stood up from her chair. Her eyes were green fire. "Your little masquerade is over, Mr. Blaine. I'm onto you. I'm onto you like a tick on a dog. You came here and decided to worm your way into my life, into my...affections. And I — " Kate's voice cracked. She turned and paced to the end of her desk. "Never mind. I found out in time. Inside, you are nothing like the man you've been presenting to me. You are a fraud and an impostor."