Body of Evidence (7 page)

“I'll improvise,” he replied. “Don't worry about it.”

She stomped her boots. “I don't have time to worry about it. I'm going to check on Ethel and the goats.”

“Okay. I'll finish up in here and find you. Then I'll sweet-talk Ethel into staying here with you a bit longer so I can track down Ralph Chason.”

“I don't need a babysitter.”

“I didn't say that. I don't want you alone right now.”

“As if Ethel could save me.”

“You said yourself she has sturdy orthopedic shoes.”

She shot him another raised-eyebrow glance. “Well, she did use to be a marathon runner. And she knows how to use a shotgun.”

“There you go, then.”

He watched her prance away, the mental image of Jennifer in a pretty dress by his side while they strolled along the Riverwalk causing him to shake his head. “Whoa, there, Anderson. No time for that kind of daydreaming.”

And yet, he couldn't get that image out of his mind. Maybe he should eat another muffin and be done with it.

 

“Another day, another dollar,” Jennifer told Jacob later as they finished up for the day. All the animals had been fed and watered as usual. They rotated cleaning the cages on a daily basis and today's cleanings had gone off without too much trouble—no animals escaping or getting ornery with them. Her favorites, the turtles, seemed to be thriving, too. Very important since hunters could get a non-game permit to capture turtles and export them to other countries as a delicacy. Jennifer rescued a lot of turtles from too-cold waters or from storms tossing them into shallow waters. That's how she'd found her very first turtle when she was young.

Remembering how gentle her father had been with the almost hypothermic creature they'd found in a shallow wash on Padre Island one brutal winter, Jennifer closed her eyes to the grief forming inside her soul. Her father had practically brought the comatose turtle back to life. So why had he let himself go and get killed in a boat that had flipped over into snake-infested waters?

Because Martin Rodgers had lived for the thrill and the danger of his job. Same with Anderson Michaels. Anderson might not look for wild animals, but he did look for unscrupulous criminals. Did he live for the thrill and the danger of his job? Did he find it easy to walk away from any kind of intimate commitment?

She should keep her mind on her turtles and not Ranger-man, Jennifer thought as she quickly opened her eyes to reality. Anderson wouldn't stay around. He'd
go back to his own life once this case was over and solved.

But her immediate concern still involved him. Anderson had been gone for over two hours. He was out there somewhere, trying to find a disgruntled neighbor. What if the neighbor had found him first?

Jennifer had enjoyed the freedom earlier, glad that he wasn't underfoot or front and center in her mind for a change. Jacob had come after school to help out and Ethel had stayed to lend a hand. She was in the front office right now, explaining to some tourist about the renovations and apologizing because they couldn't take a stroll around the entire property. And if Jennifer knew Ethel, she'd also give them a discount pass for the grand reopening next spring. They needed to keep visitors aware.

Ethel had stayed, all right, after meeting Anderson and preening like a swan right in front of the man.

“A tall drink of water, that one,” Ethel had whispered after Anderson headed out the open gate to the highway. “Where on earth did you find him, Jennifer?”

“He kind of wandered up,” Jennifer had told her older friend, amused at Ethel's silly smiles and big, curious eyes. “He's here to help with the new pen. You know, making sure the security measures are up to snuff.” It wasn't the whole truth, but Ethel
had
been warned of the problems back there.

“Are you gonna try to train him?”

Laughing, Jennifer had shaken her head. “I don't think Anderson can be trained, Miss Ethel. He's just here for a few weeks.”

She hoped. She prayed. And she hoped shrewd Ethel
would buy that story. Jennifer didn't need matchmaking on top of all her other worries.

“Well, it'd sure be a shame to let him slip away,” Ethel had replied in her soft, sweet voice. “If I was about thirty years younger—”

“Miss Ethel,” Jennifer had said, feigning shock. Then she'd sighed. “I do have to agree with you but—”

“You need to find a good man,” Ethel replied with an endearing smile. “That's the best kind of security.”

Jennifer didn't have the heart to tell her friend that finding a man did not necessarily mean instant security. Her mother never had that luxury. And she needed to remember that, no matter how much Anderson promised her he'd be around to help her. Jennifer wanted to believe in a forever kind of love, but she was afraid to think in those terms. Anderson Michaels was a prime example of a man who'd rather get up and go to work than deal with a woman in his life. Or so she imagined.

“You don't have to stay,” Jennifer had said, hoping Ethel would take the hint. “We're wrapping things up.”

Ethel had left the subject of Jennifer's single status alone. “Oh, but I don't mind a bit. Anderson wanted me to help you label the feed buckets and man the front office, since he had to run those important errands. He seems good at organizing things.”

“Oh, yeah. He's been a great help to me.”

And a hindrance, a distraction, an annoyance.

But she missed him—and he'd only been gone two hours. And that made her angry at herself and even angrier at Anderson. She didn't want to miss him or care about him or even like him, for that matter. She
barely knew the man so why the sudden interest? She told herself she didn't care.

But she did.

She looked over at Jacob and said, “You can go. Take off a little early. I'll go inside with Ethel and help her shut down the office.”

“Thanks,” Jacob said, spinning on his sneakers. Then he turned around to stare over at her. “Hey, Jennifer, is everything all right around here?”

“What do you mean?”

“That Anderson dude. He seems okay but…he keeps asking me a lot of questions. Have I done something wrong?”

Grrr. “No, you haven't done anything wrong. It's kind of complicated, but he's just here to beef up the security down at the new pond since we've had some vandalism back there. He won't be around very long. And, Jacob, we don't need to broadcast that he's here, okay?”

“Oh, all right. I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

Jacob didn't seem convinced but what else could she say to the kid?
Hey, Jacob, by the way, we might have drug runners on that spot near the new alligator pen.

Jacob waved goodbye and hopped in his truck.

Jennifer looked forward to going inside with Ethel. She'd make a nice pot of tea and share one last muffin with her friend.

Then she heard Chestnut's high-pitched whinnying and turned toward the stables. Dusk was settling in and the day was turning cold. Shivering, Jennifer called out as she ran down the lane and entered the stables. “Chestnut, you don't need another treat—”

A shadow hovered at the far end of the old barn.

And she was pretty sure it wasn't Ethel standing there. But it was human.

“Anderson?” she called out, thinking maybe he'd come home without her noticing.

No response.

“Who's there?”

Chestnut whinnied again, then began stomping his hooves against the stall. Jennifer didn't need any further warning. If her horse sensed danger then she'd take that as the gospel.

She turned to leave, her legs shaking. But she didn't want to leave her animals in there, either. She whirled, glancing around for some sort of protection.

And that's when she heard footsteps hurry toward her.

S
tumbling, Jennifer glanced around for help or a weapon. Jacob was gone and Ethel would never hear her screams. She'd have to either outrun her pursuer or stop and fight. But if she ran away, her animals might be in danger. Chestnut was in a frenzy already. The big horse could very easily break out of his stall.

She saw a jagged limb about the size of a baseball bat that the recent storm had dislodged from an ancient pine tree. Grabbing it up, she hopped around the side of the barn and waited, listening for more footsteps.

The old barn went silent. Deadly silent. Then she heard Chestnut snorting and kicking again.

Where did he go?
she wondered, her breath held, her pulse jittery and wild. She could handle spooked animals but dealing with a dangerous human was another thing.

She moved an inch closer to the open doors, praying that whoever had been in there was now gone. But Chestnut's loud snorts indicated the gelding still wasn't happy.

Well, neither was she.

Turning, she decided she'd be better off backtracking
around the barn. She decided to sneak in the other way and try to find out if the intruder was still in there.

Taking slow, steady steps, Jennifer tried not to make any noise. But her boot on a fat twig caused an echoing crackle to fill the dusk.

Then she heard hurried footsteps again.

And they seemed to be getting closer.

Jennifer whirled at the back of the barn, the sturdy log raised like a giant sword. With a wham that was met with a thud, she managed to hit her target.

The man went down, but he got right back up. Jennifer screamed and swung again, too startled to get a good look at his face. But it wouldn't have mattered. He was wearing a loose hoodie that covered most of his features. Except his eyes. They glowed black and menacing against the darkness of the barn.

“Who are you?” she shouted, praying Ethel would finally hear and call for help. And praying Ethel wouldn't take the law into her own hands and grab a weapon.

The man lunged toward Jennifer, but she pivoted away, grunting as she lifted the tree limb again. “Get off my property!”

The man didn't speak but he came forward, prepared to charge her like a bull. Jennifer screamed again, bracing herself, the rough bark of the log scraping at her palms and arms as she tried to once again fend off her attacker.

The man overpowered her, grabbing at the log as he forced her to the ground. “You need to stop work on that gator pen, lady…permanently,” he said on a hiss
of air, his voice low and grainy, the smell of sweat and dirt surrounding him.

Jennifer had a quick glance of olive skin and a mustache. Then he sat back on his heels, lifted the log over his head and with a grunt, brought it down.

Jennifer screamed and rolled away, the thud of crashing wood next to her temple causing her to wrap her arms against her head and scream again.

Then she heard a gunshot. Daring to glimpse up, she looked around for her attacker. But he was gone.

 

Anderson's heart was caught somewhere between his ribs and his throat. Holding his Sig Sauer pistol out in a protective stance, he hurried around the barn. “Jennifer?”

“I'm here.” She sounded weak and winded, but she was alive at least. He thanked God for that.

Rushing around the barn, he saw her there on the ground, sitting in a huddled ball.

“Are you all right?” he said as he stooped to help her up.

“Yes, go.” She pointed toward the woods. “He went that way.”

Anderson followed the direction she'd indicated. “I'll be right back.” He ran toward the woods, crouching near the fence line. A gaping hole showed where the intruder had managed to crawl through. Anderson called 911, then hurried through the cut fence.

Only to find the woods empty. Should he go after the man or go back and check on Jennifer? It was growing dark and for all he knew the man might have circled
back to finish the job. Anderson whirled and ran back to the barn.

“He's gone for now,” he told Jennifer. “I've called 911. Let me see about you.”

Holding his breath, he checked for wounds but didn't see any. Then he felt her palms and looked down. “You're all cut up. What happened?”

Jennifer gulped in a breath. “He came into the stables. Chestnut warned me—he was agitated. I came to investigate and saw a shadow. I grabbed that branch and came around the barn.” She pointed down to where a broken pine tree limb lay. “I hit him once, I think.”

Anderson glanced around to make sure the man wasn't back. “I heard you screaming the minute I got out of my truck. I don't think I hit him, but I must have scared him off. I couldn't get a clean shot.”

“Is he really gone?” She twisted around to look into the growing dusk.

Anderson searched the trees and nearby woods. “I think so. He'd be crazy to hang around now.” He took her under one arm, careful to hold his gun away. “Let's get you to the house.”

“But the horses—”

“I'll come back and check on everything, I promise. I'll explain to the sheriff, too.”

She nodded, allowing him to guide her up the lane. “Let me know if anything's wrong, okay?”

Frustrated with her one-track mind, Anderson said, “I understand, but…you're more important than the horses, Jennifer. Why didn't you run?”

“I tried. But I saw that big branch and thought I could wallop him. I wanted him to know I didn't appreciate
being scared like that.” She shuddered, then pushed at her disheveled hair. “He told me I'd better cancel plans for the alligator pen.”

Anderson let that settle, then asked, “Did you get a good look at him?”

“Not really. He was wearing a hood I think and he had a mustache. Dark eyes. Olive skin from what I could tell. I was more intent on cracking his head open.”

In spite of nearly having a heart attack, Anderson couldn't help the tight smile. “I think you must have given him a run for his money. He sure got out of here quick.”

“Not me,” she said, her nose against his chest. “You shot at him.”

“Too bad I missed.”

He'd definitely be bunking outside on his bedroll again tonight. The vandalism was bad enough. And now a solid verbal threat and physical attack. This was getting out of hand. What were they trying to protect back there?

Ethel met them on the porch. “I thought heard a gunshot! And I hear sirens.”

“It's okay,” Jennifer said, lifting away from Anderson's embrace. Then she looked over at Anderson, doubt in her eyes.

Anderson took over. “Somebody messing in the barn. I heard Jennifer screaming and ran to help. I got a little trigger-happy, but they ran away.”

Ethel held her hand to her heart. “Why would anybody do that?”

Anderson replied, trying to stay honest. “Someone's probably trespassing. He got too close.”

“Goodness,” Ethel said, taking Jennifer by the arm. “Honey, I've never seen you so flustered. Are you sure you're okay?”

“He kind of spooked me,” Jennifer said on a breath. “It was so dark in the barn, and Chestnut was upset.”

Ethel gave her a hug. “Bless your heart. You don't need this on top of all your other worries.”

Jennifer cast a look toward Anderson. “I'm all right, really. Scared me more than I care to admit.”

“I don't mind staying,” Ethel said to Anderson.

“You can go on home,” Anderson replied. “I'll make sure everything's okay. I'll check the barn again.”

Ethel stood silent, taking in the scene, probably taking in Anderson's protective stance, too. Then she shrugged and whirled. “I think you're in good hands here, Jennifer, so I'll go. But you call me if you need any thing, you hear?”

“I will,” Jennifer said. “Thank you so much, Miss Ethel.”

Anderson urged her inside. “I'll go talk to the sheriff's deputy.” He walked Ethel to her car, thanked her and then hurried back to the barn. After searching every nook and cranny, he soothed Chestnut and the other horses with a treat, then came back inside to Jennifer.

She was sitting there, staring at her torn hands. His heart broke for her. She was a strong woman, a force to be reckoned with. She'd been brave to turn on her attacker tonight. Too brave.

“Where's your first aid kit?” he asked, storming around the kitchen, his mind whirling with the worst-case scenario of what could have happened in that barn.

“In the supply closet by the hall bathroom. Did you go back to the barn?”

“Yeah. Horses are secure and the barn is clear.”

He found the kit and came back, then bent down in front of her. “This is gonna burn,” he said after taking out the alcohol. Grabbing some cotton balls, he doused one. “Ready?”

She bobbed her head. “I can handle it.”

He knew she could. But he tried to be gentle as he pressed the cotton ball against her torn flesh. She winced, then closed her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said, watching as a single tear rolled down her left cheek. “I shouldn't have left you.”

She opened her eyes and pulled back. “I can take care of myself. But I won't let anyone harm my animals.”

“I get that,” he replied, trying to choose the right words. “But…you're in real danger now and I'm here to help you. Only I don't seem to be doing a very good job.”

“You did help me. You scared him away. So please don't apologize.”

Anderson went back to ministering her wounds. “Let's put some of this antibiotic ointment on here, just in case.”

She allowed him to dab some of the white cream across the scratches and cuts, gritting her teeth each time he touched a raw spot.

Anderson let his fingers linger on her skin too long, his awareness of her as overpowering as his need to protect her. “There, all done.”

“Thanks,” she said, her gaze locking with his before she looked down at her hands again.

Did she feel the same way?

He put away the supplies and dropped the cotton balls in the trash. Then he turned back to her and bent down in front of her. “Hungry?”

“No.”

“Want some of that green tea? I can make it hot.”

She nodded, her frown softer now as it turned into a silent pout.

Anderson wanted her to scream and fight with him, but she seemed to be shutting down, the last of her innocent assumptions that she would be all right disappearing in the cold night air. Thinking you were invincible could be a curse or a blessing, depending on the situation. Anderson figured Jennifer had inherited some of her rugged father's spunk and courage, but this kind of trouble could make or break that spirit.

He took her hands in his, careful not to press her wounds. “I'm sorry, Jennifer. For all of this.”

She finally looked into his eyes, her expression bordering on frustration and acceptance. “I believe you. And I'm glad you're here. I wasn't so happy to see you at first. I thought you were just some hotshot lawman overreacting to a big case. I honestly didn't believe what you were telling me. I do now.”

A strange feeling came over Anderson as he sat there, holding her hands in his, holding his gaze on her. And because that feeling was so new and electric, so surprising and so heated with a sweet rush of warmth, he did something he figured he'd regret later.

He leaned close and touched his lips to hers, slowly at first, and then with an intake of breath, he fell to his
knees and pulled her down into his arms and kissed her good and proper.

And right now, he didn't regret it at all.

 

She would regret this later, Jennifer thought. She'd regret it when she couldn't sleep at three in the morning and she got up to find a light burning in the bunkhouse. She'd regret it tomorrow in the light of day when she had to look Anderson in the eye again.

She'd regret it later, but not now. Surely not right now when leaning into his arms was the balm she needed for her bruised heart and her still-racing pulse. So she gave in to Anderson's kiss, allowing herself this one temptation before reality set back in. And it would. She accepted that real life would come between them.

Maybe sooner than she thought.

He pulled away to stare up at her, the shimmering surprise in his eyes matching the erratic shock pouring through her system. “Wow.”

Jennifer watched as he stood and ran a hand over his crisp hair. “Wow,” he said again, spinning on his boots. “I'll make us some of that healthy tea.”

And just like that, it was over. But then, none of this was really over yet. He wouldn't leave now and she couldn't let him leave now. Her life was forever changed by an intruder. Not only did she now need to fear for her life and guard herself against danger. Oh, no. Now she had to worry about another intruder.

One who was becoming dear to her in spite of her better judgment.

Anderson Michaels scared her just about as much as the attacker inside her barn.

So she was caught between a rock and a hard place, needing a man who'd walked larger than life right into her safe, routine world, and wishing she'd never met him even when she thanked God she had. She hadn't seriously prayed to God in a long time, but now she found herself not only thanking Him but asking Him to watch over Anderson. And her.

I don't deserve it, Lord. I don't deserve Your guiding hand since I haven't been faithful lately. But I'm asking now, for Anderson's sake. He truly is a good and faithful servant.

“We're in a fine mess here, Anderson,” she said after her silent prayer, because facing the truth was much easier than ignoring it.

“I told you, I'll get these people, one way or another.”

“I wasn't talking about the bad guys,” she replied, standing, her gaze centered on him.

He whirled to stare over at her, his expression bordering on yet another apology. Instead, he surprised her. “I'm not sorry, Jennifer. Not about that kiss if that's what you're wondering. But…we both know it was wrong.”