Dangerous Alterations (14 page)

He opened the cooler, extracted a tiny white bag from inside, and returned to the swing. “I got you a square of milk chocolate and a square of peanut butter chocolate swirl. Only the peanut butter one is a little smaller.”

She took the bag from his hand and peeked inside. “Was it good?”

“It was awesome.” Reaching for her hand, he pulled her off the swing and in for a kiss, his lips warm and firm against hers. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” It was true. Despite everything that had happened since he left, he’d never been far from her thoughts.

“Now it’s my turn.”

“For what?” she mumbled as his arms closed around her once again. “More fudge?”

He laughed. “No, questions.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“First, why are you here? I thought you’d have left for the cabin by now.”

And, just like that, everything she’d managed to shove to the background for several glorious minutes came rushing back. Hard.

She sunk back onto the swing and tugged him down beside her. “I did leave. Hours ago. Only I had to come back because of the fire.”

“That was my second question.”

“Second question?”

He nodded. “I wanted to know why you smell like a campfire.”

A campfire.

If only she could be so lucky …

She looked into the bag once again and then set it aside, her stomach not the slightest bit interested. “It’s not from a campfire. It’s from a real fire. And it’s why I came back.”

Milo grabbed hold of her hand. “What happened?”

Suddenly, the tears she’d managed to stifle during the drive back to Sweet Briar came rushing down her face—only this time they were as much about relief as they were sadness.

“Tori? What is it?”

Swiping her fingertips across her cheeks, she willed herself to get it together. To answer Milo’s question and wipe the worry from his eyes. “There was a fire at the library this evening.”

Worry was quickly substituted for horror. “Oh no. What happened?”

The roar that had filled her ears an hour earlier, resurfaced, making it hard to think, let alone speak. “We won’t know for sure until tomorrow at the earliest. But we suspect it was an old coffeepot Dixie found in the basement.”

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“It could have been worse, that’s for sure.”

He pushed aside the last of her tears with his thumb. “Tell me.”

Slowly, she filled him in on everything Fred Granderson had said—the part the wooden ceiling had played in slowing the fire, the quick response thanks to Chief Dallas being in the building at the time it started …

Chief Dallas.

She swallowed over the lump that threatened to cut off her ability to breathe. But if Milo noticed, he showed no indication.

“That’s good, Tori. That’s real good.”

“I know. It is. But”—she pushed off the swing and wandered around the porch, Milo’s gaze tracking her every step—“it could have been so much worse.”

“But it wasn’t.”

She stopped, spun around, retraced her steps. “We don’t know that for sure. There could be structural damage.”

“And there might not be.” Milo ran his hands through his burnished brown hair, tousling it at the top. “I always drive through the center of town when I come to see you. Always. Yet today … when something like that’s going on … I opt for the back road. It figures, doesn’t it?”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. Georgina came back with me and Dixie was already there.”

“Still, I wish I could have been there with you. So you didn’t have to face that alone.”

If he only knew.

Oh how she wanted to tell him the rest. Tell him that, once again, she was about to be the target of questions in a murder investigation. But before she could do that, she had to tell him Jeff was dead.

She could feel him studying her, waiting for more, yet she didn’t know where to start. Or how to explain why she had, once again, opted to keep something Jeff-related from him.

“What is it, Tori? What else is on your mind?”

She took a deep breath and leaned against the porch railing, her thoughts traveling back to the moment she heard the news. “Jeff is dead.”

She hadn’t meant to say it so frankly, to dump it on him with such a resounding thud, but she did.

“And?”

What response she expected, she didn’t know. But one thing was for sure,
that
wasn’t it.

“You—you knew?” she stammered.

He nodded.

“But how? Who told you?”

“Not you.”

She felt her face warm. “I’m sorry, Milo. I really am. I guess I was just in shock more than anything else.”

He held up his hands. “There’s no need to explain. I heard your conversation the night before it happened and I know how you felt about him. I considered calling to check on you but I figured you’d reach out to me when you were ready. Besides, I knew Margaret Louise would look after you.”

Feeling like a complete heel, she crossed back to the swing and peered down at Milo. “I love you. I truly do.”

Dimples appeared in his cheeks. “I know that. And I love you, too.”

Everything was going to be okay.

It had to be.

She took a deep breath. “There’s more.”

“More?”

She nodded. “Remember how I said Chief Dallas was in the library when the fire started?”

Milo’s eyebrows scrunched for a moment only to return to their normal position just as quickly. “Yeah, okay, what about it?”

“He wasn’t checking out books.”

He laughed. “I didn’t figure he was. The chief isn’t what you’d call well-read. He’d prefer to fish in his free time.”

And make my life hell …

“He was there on more official business.”

The laugh died on Milo’s lips. “Official business?”

“That’s what Dixie said.”

He moved his finger in a rolling motion. “Okay …”

“Apparently, he’s investigating a murder,” she explained.

Milo’s eyebrows scrunched again. “By asking
Dixie
questions?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. All her life she’d been a placid person—the kind who avoided confrontation, opting instead to escape into the pages of a book. Yet here she was now, the target of yet another round of questions pertaining to yet another murder.

Jeff’s murder.

“No. By asking
me
questions.”

He sat up tall. “You? But why? Who was murdered?”

She met his gaze, her words wooden at best. “I guess because of our history together.”

“History? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know all the details myself just yet. All I know is what I’ve pieced together from gossip at the cabin and what Dixie said just now.”

“Okay.”

“Well, it … well, it appears as if Jeff may have been … um, murdered.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d expected so she repeated it more succinctly. “Jeff may have been murdered.”

“I heard that part. What I don’t get is why
you’d
be questioned. The guy was a first-class loser. Surely there was a line a mile long with people wanting to wipe him from their existence.”

She stared at Milo. “But don’t you see why the police would come knocking at my door? We were engaged. He cheated on me. And then he shows up here … on my new turf.”

Suddenly, the chief’s desire to speak to her made sense. It really did. There was no conspiracy to try and link her to every wrongdoing in town. She had a connection to the victim, the kind of connection that couldn’t—and shouldn’t—be ignored.

“Is he still with the woman he messed around with when you were engaged?”

“No.”

“Then maybe
she’s
to blame. Or maybe her father decided to teach him a lesson once and for all. Or maybe one of the other women he surely hurt had finally had enough. Heck, maybe a whole group of them banded together.”

“Rose said he got all of his aunt’s—”

Milo continued on, oblivious to her efforts to speak. “Someone that vile, that selfish makes a lot of enemies along the way. And, eventually, they run up against someone who doesn’t simply sit back and take it.”

The sound of a car door made her look up, the identity of the driver all but certain even before she had visual confirmation.

“He’s here.”

Milo stood. “I’ll take care of this.”

She stopped him with her hand. “No. His questions need to be asked and answered before he can track down the person who did this to Jeff.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Chief Dallas crossed in front of his car and headed in their direction.

Rising up on tiptoe, she planted a kiss on Milo’s cheek. “I’ve got this, Milo. I really do. Besides, you need to get back. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what happened.”

He looked from his watch to the chief and back again. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Okay. But I don’t want you waiting until morning. Call on my cell as soon as you can breathe again.”

Breathe.

She watched as Milo stopped to shake the chief’s hand before disappearing down the sidewalk, his last few words tickling something in her subconscious.

“Good evening, Miss Sinclair. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to catch you in town but the fire had all of us in a bit of a tizzy.”

“I understand.”

“Now that we’ve both had a moment to breathe though, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

There was that word again—

“He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air you do … or even breathe at all for that matter.”

Slapping her hand over her mouth, Tori sunk onto the swing and put her head between her knees.

She could feel the chief studying her, waiting for her to say something, anything, yet she was at a loss. Milo Wentworth was the sweetest, calmest, most respectable man she knew. Yet there she was,
doubting
him in one of the worst ways imaginable.

“Miss Sinclair? You okay?”

Shaking away the fog that threatened to paralyze her, Tori forced herself to look up, to smile and be friendly. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough night. At the end of a rough week.”

Chief Dallas gestured toward the wicker rocking chair. “May I?”

“Of course. Please. Make yourself at home.” She pushed off the chair and headed toward the still unopened door. “Can I get you something? Some soda? Coffee? Water?”

He shook his head. “Actually, I’d like to just have a few words with you if that’s okay. Shouldn’t take long.”

Nodding, she turned around, retraced her steps back to the swing, and sat down. “What can I do for you?”

“Could you elaborate on what you said a moment ago? About the rough night at the end of a rough week?”

She released a breath of air from her lungs. This question, at least, was easy. “Obviously the fire at the library was the last thing in the world I wanted to see. The drive down from the cabin was the longest two-and-a-half hours I’ve ever spent in a car.” Pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she continued. “All I knew was that there was a fire at the library. I, of course, envisioned a blazing inferno.”

“Which could have been the case had I not stopped by to talk with you.” Chief Dallas pulled a notebook from his back pocket and flipped it open before reaching back once again for a pen. “Another ten minutes and you might have had your blazing inferno.”

Something about the inflection in his voice during his last statement made her stomach churn. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he meant, could he?

“M-my blazing inferno?” she repeated.

He shrugged, his eyes locked with hers. “I just meant that worst-case scenario you had on the drive back to town.”

“Oh.” Nestling against the back of the swing, she willed herself to relax. No one in their right mind would ever think she’d want to see the library burn. The notion alone was simply proof that she needed a good night’s sleep. Soon. “I’m so thankful you were there and able to get the call out to Fred Granderson so quickly.”

“My pleasure.”

He shifted his weight and uncapped his pen with his teeth. “Do you know of any reason someone might have wanted to set the library on fire?”

She froze, unable to speak.

He waited her out.

“Did the report come back already?” she finally managed to ask, her thoughts scurrying in a million different directions.

“No. We’re hoping to have something in the morning.”

“Then why would you even entertain the notion that someone deliberately set the fire?”

A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I guess because I’m trained to consider various possibilities.”

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. As nice as Chief Dallas was at times, he tended to be rather narrow-minded. She, of all people, knew that firsthand.

“Well, as my great grandmother used to say, no sense borrowing trouble early.”

“I prefer to stay a step ahead.” The chief gave a quick wave of his notebook. “But let’s get back to the reason for my visit, shall we?”

She lifted her hands to her head in an effort to stop the rush of noise that suddenly filled her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was play the cat and mouse game with this man. They’d played it one too many times. Instead, she took the proverbial bull by the horns. “You’re here to ask me about my relationship with Jeff Calder. To see if, in someway, I might either be a) responsible for his death or b) know some tidbit of information that can help you figure out who
is
. Is that about right, Chief?”

He didn’t even miss a beat. “That about sums it up, I suppose.”

She swallowed. Hard. Sure, she knew it. She’d said the questions out loud all by herself. But having them confirmed was a slightly different story.