Fatal Inheritance (9 page)

Was that why he’d stared at Sarah so long when she’d first opened the door?

Becki had thought he was still infatuated...

Sarah remained stiff, sucking in air in short bursts. “It’s not what you think. It was my fault.”

Pounding erupted at the back door. Bruiser set off barking again and tore down the stairs.

“Bec, what’s going on?” Josh’s shout pierced the windowpane above the sound of the storm raging outside, which was nothing compared to the rage Becki felt toward her brother-in-law at the moment.

Sarah pulled away and tugged her sleeves back down. “You can’t say anything. Please. Promise me.” She grabbed her makeup bag and long-sleeved shirt and darted into the bathroom.

Downstairs, Josh sounded as if he might take down the door any second. And the dog’s constant howling didn’t help.

Gritting her teeth against the pain in her ankle, Becki raced down the stairs as fast as she could. “Quiet, Bruiser.” She unlocked the dead bolt and, before she could twist the doorknob, Josh pushed through the door.

“What’s going on? I saw all the lights come on and your phone’s dead.”

Becki took one look at the worry etched on his face and flung herself into his arms.

He drew her close, his heart hammering beneath her ear. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Coming to her senses, she reluctantly pushed away from him. “I can’t tell you.”

He caught her with a gentle hand at the back of her neck and whisked a tear from her cheek, the compassion in his eyes so heartfelt she yearned to step back into the shelter of his arms.

“The roof’s leaking,” Sarah said tersely from the kitchen doorway.

Becki jerked from Josh’s grasp. Whoa, how had Sarah put herself together so quickly?

Josh’s gaze ping-ponged between them, as if he’d sensed the underlying warning Sarah had sent Becki’s way. His gaze stalled on her, waiting.

“The plaster’s bulging. I’m afraid it might give way.”

He nodded but looked far from satisfied. “I’ll take a look. I might be able to throw up a tarp temporarily to ward off any more damage until the rain stops.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s pouring out there.”

“You didn’t. I offered. Which room is it?”

“I’ll show you.” Sarah led him upstairs.

Becki slipped into the downstairs bathroom and splashed water on her face. She never used to lose it so easily. But she’d been overwhelmed by the realization that Sarah’s husband had beat her—she hadn’t been able to help herself when she saw the concern in Josh’s expression.

“Bec?” Josh called from the kitchen.

Becki dried her face and shook her head at the mess of curls in her reflection. Couldn’t be helped. Rejoining Josh, she looked around. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Upstairs changing the bedsheets.” He stepped closer. “What did she say to upset you like that?”

Becki swallowed at the tenderness in his voice, at his concern for her,
not
her sister. But she held her emotions in check. “Nothing.”

His head tilted. “
Nothing?
That sounds familiar.”

She smiled at his teasing.

He caught a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger. “Do you think she had that real-estate agent punch a few holes in the roof to convince you to sell?”

She chuckled. “Sounds like something I might’ve thought a few hours ago. But I was wrong about her.”

Josh searched her eyes, and the change in his expression made Becki wonder if he could see right inside her head and read her thoughts. He’d learn the truth soon enough after she invited her sister to stay. He dropped his hand. “I’ll see if I can jury-rig a temporary fix on the roof.”

“Be careful, Josh, please. I don’t want to see you get hurt on my account.”

His lips quirked into a quick smile, and he pressed an equally quick kiss to her forehead. A kiss that made her feel like a kid who’d needed rescuing again.

Not the cared-about woman she’d felt like when she’d stepped into his arms. How was he ever going to believe she could take care of herself if she kept letting him run to her rescue every time anything remotely bad happened?

As he slipped out the door, Sarah rejoined her in the kitchen. “He’s grown up to be a really nice guy.”

Becki watched his flashlight bob in the darkness. “He was always someone you could count on.” She drew in a deep breath and mentally rehearsed her invitation for Sarah to stay.

Sarah stepped closer to the door and watched Josh, too. “I guess I would’ve been better off waiting for
him
all those years ago.”

Becki touched her forehead where Josh had kissed her. If Sarah stayed, would Josh...

Becki’s invitation turned to paste in her mouth.

NINE

R
ain lashed Josh’s back as he muscled the ladder through the barn door.

You’ve got to admit you get a little obsessed.

Dropping the ladder inside the pitch-black building, he shut out Hunter’s voice. He wasn’t obsessed. Any decent human being would have put up that tarp for Bec.

A rustle sounded from the far corner of the barn.

He swung his LED light that way. The beam picked up a light-colored trail of tiny pebbles. He bent to take a closer look. Not pebbles. Tiny yellow bits. He picked up a couple and brought them to his nose. Sulfur.

He should have guessed. He traced his light along the trail. Another rustle. He flicked his light toward the sound, but the light blinked out. He slapped it against his leg, toggled the switch. Nothing worked.

The door banged closed.

He ducked behind a bench.

“Whew, that’s some wind.” Bec’s flashlight beam bounced around the walls. “Josh? Where are you?”

He hurried toward her. “Here. Can I borrow that? My light just gave out.” He reached for hers and whispered, “Stick close.”

He shone the light in the direction he’d heard the sound. A mouse scuffled across the floor and disappeared under a box.

Bec stifled a squeal.

Better a mouse than a prowler. Josh turned the light back to the yellow trail and traced it to a shelf where her grandfather had stored fertilizers.

“What is that?” Bec asked, staying close on his heels.

“You said a real-estate agent was here today? Winslow?”

“Yeah, he was already here when I got home.”

“So he could have been here for some time?” Long enough to pour sulfur down her well.

“I guess. Why?”

“This is sulfur. My guess is he poured it down your well to help persuade you to sell. Leaky roofs and contaminated water supplies are just the kinds of things that prompt city folk to pack up and sell.”

“You think Winslow contaminated my water?”

Something shifted behind them.

“Watch out!” Josh pushed Bec to the ground and threw himself over her. Tins and gardening tools rained down on his back. He shielded her head with his arms. Then a crushing weight slammed into him, and his breath escaped in a huff.

He shoved off the tipped-over shelves, and a puff of chemical-smelling dust bit at his throat.

Bec coughed.

Josh scrambled for the light he’d dropped. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

The barn door slammed against the wall, followed by a blast of wind and rain.

“I’ve got to go after him.” Josh quickly lifted Bec out of the debris and set her on her feet.

“My crutches.”

He flashed the light back to the mess on the floor and pulled out her crutches. “You going to be okay here?”

“Yes, go!”

Josh skirted around her and dashed for the door, pausing at the threshold to give her enough light to get out safely. “Go back to the house,” he shouted over the wind and swept the beam over the yard. Visibility was near zero in the teeming rain.

Bec secured the barn door, then peered into the darkness with him, water sluicing down her yellow slicker onto bare calves. “Did you see which way he went?”

“No.” Thunder rumbled. “We’re never going to find him in this.” Josh strained to listen for the sound of running feet, an engine, something. He tipped the light toward Bec’s face. “Did you lock the house?”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

He jogged across the lawn with Bec not far behind, swinging her crutches double time.

Sarah pulled open the door. “You two okay?”

“You see which way the guy went?” Josh motioned Bec inside ahead of him.

“What guy? I didn’t see anyone.” Sarah stepped back as Bec shrugged off her dripping coat.

No way could the guy have gotten inside without leaving a wet trail. “Okay, stay inside and lock the door.” Josh turned his light back to the yard.

Lightning fractured the blackness, followed by a bone-shuddering crack.

The guy could have holed up anywhere, but he had to have gotten here somehow. Josh grabbed his keys from his pocket and jumped into his truck. He sped to the farm lane, where he’d spotted Smith’s car the night Bec had first arrived, but there were no fresh tracks. He angled his truck so the headlights pointed in the direction Smith had claimed to have followed the guy he’d seen run out of her barn. Still nothing.

He circled the block. But in the pelting rain, he could scarcely see the road in front of his headlights, let alone a car that might be tucked in behind the hedgerow. He drove back to Bec’s.

The instant his foot hit the porch step, she opened the door. She’d changed into dry clothes, but her hair hung in wet ropes around her face. “You didn’t find him?”

“No.”

“Do you think it was Winslow? Why would he come back?”

Josh checked the phone line coming into the house, then stepped inside. “I don’t know. Where’s Sarah?”

“She went up to bed.”

Josh frowned. How could she sleep?

Bec handed him a towel. “Do you think this could have been Henry?”

“I doubt it. He’s a P.I. investigating the jewelry theft. Claims he wasn’t in the barn the night you were attacked.”

“A P.I., for real? Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know.” He’d half expected to find the guy parked in Bec’s driveway when he got back. “The P.I. part is true. The good news is he doesn’t suspect your grandparents of involvement in the jewelry heist.”

“Well, that’s a relief anyway.”

Josh glanced at the stairs. “Except it means we have no idea who we just chased out of the barn.”

“Are you going to call this in?”

He imagined the captain’s response if he did and shook his head. “No, I’m going to pay Winslow a visit. If he’s just getting home, looking like something the dog dragged in, then I’ll nail him.” Josh picked up Bec’s phone.

Still dead.

Had to be from the storm. The line wasn’t cut.

He hated to leave her not knowing where this guy had disappeared to, but if Winslow was their culprit, this might be their only chance to prove it. “I won’t be long. Keep the doors locked and your cell phone handy.” He ruffled the dog’s ears. “And keep Bruiser nearby.”

* * *

The shopkeeper gave Becki an apologetic look and pulled the help-wanted sign from the store window. “Sorry, the position’s been filled.”

She trudged out the door to Serenity’s main street. What was this? Some kind of conspiracy?

She’d never been turned away by so many employers in her life, let alone in one day. So much for job hunting taking her mind off last night’s prowler.

Josh’s sister had warned her the job market was tight. But to be turned down for a waitressing job?

Becki shoved her crutches into the backseat of the car. Yeah, who wanted a waitress on crutches? She should have listened to Josh and waited a few more days. But now she had a roof repair to pay for. If she didn’t find a job, she’d never be able to afford the upkeep and taxes on the house, let alone eat!

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Becki cringed at the memory of the morning’s verse in the devotional booklet Gran kept next to the coffeepot. Was God trying to tell her that she needed to sell the house?

Is that why she couldn’t find a job?

Becki slumped into the driver’s seat. Most of the time she managed to ignore all the little God things Gran had scattered about the house. She’d always considered herself a believer, even if she didn’t go to church as regularly as she had during the summers spent with Gran and Gramps. But had she ever really owned a faith of her own?

If she had, she wouldn’t have ranted about God letting the squirrel build a nest in the chimney. Would she? Or hesitate to help Sarah?

Except, as much as seeing Sarah’s bruises had broken her heart, she couldn’t see how giving her sister more money would resolve anything. Inviting Sarah to move in with her might, but she still hadn’t been able to voice that particular offer. Not after waking to find Sarah bringing a cup of coffee out to Josh’s truck this morning.

Apparently, after he’d returned from Winslow’s last night, he’d camped out in Gran and Gramps’s driveway to keep watch.

Becki couldn’t believe that she’d fallen asleep before he returned. Except that she’d felt safe, knowing he was out there hunting down her prowler.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

Her gaze shot to the street, the sidewalk, the shop windows. Josh had warned her to stay alert. Was it merely the power of suggestion that prompted the eerie sensation she was being watched?

Her gaze slammed to a halt at the barbershop window. Or, more precisely, at Bart Winslow standing at the window, looking her way.

His dad had been snug and dry in his home when Josh had paid him an unexpected visit last night. But Bart hadn’t.

Josh had found him at the bar on the edge of town, drenched from the rain. Problem was, the puddles under Bart’s feet didn’t prove he’d been at her place. Half the people in the bar had been soaked from their dash for the door from the parking lot.

Bart disappeared from the barbershop window and an instant later emerged on the street.

Becki stuffed her key in the ignition, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it. Without evidence, Josh hadn’t been able to do anything more than warn Bart to stay away from her. She didn’t feel like sticking around to see if Bart intended to oblige, but she sure wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d scared her.

He paused outside the barbershop door, his gaze zeroed in on her windshield, although she wasn’t sure he could see her with the sun glaring off the glass. His lips curved into a slow smile. Then he winked and headed in the opposite direction.

Okay. That was creepy.

Part of her wanted to swerve in front of him and tell him that he and his father should forget about ever getting their hands on her property. But the remote possibility he was just—well—a creep kept her foot off the gas.

She needed to get home anyway, make sure her sister wasn’t getting into mischief. Sarah had offered to pick up groceries and cook them a nice supper, but maybe that glimpse of Sarah’s bruises last night had made Becki too trusting.

When she pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, Bruiser and Tripod ran from the backyard together to greet her. “Well, hello. Glad to see you’ve made friends with the neighbor.” Becki gave them each a thorough rub, noting that Josh’s truck was back in his own driveway, then headed inside through the front door.

The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies greeted her.

“Mmm, those smell delicious.” Becki tossed her purse on the bench in the entrance and clomped on her crutches to the kitchen. “If you’re going to bake, you can stay as long as you want!”

The kitchen was empty.

Sarah’s laughter floated through the back screen, followed by hammering.

Becki grabbed a couple of cookies and joined her sister on the porch. “What’s so funny?”

Sarah motioned toward the roof. “Something Josh said.”

Becki gaped up at Josh, shirtless, on her roof. “What are you doing?” She instantly clapped her mouth shut, hoping that didn’t come out sounding as insanely jealous as it had sounded to her own ears. Her sister was a married woman, and...and...Becki wasn’t interested in Josh that way. Not anymore. Not really. She shouldn’t be.

“Patching your roof.”

“But...shouldn’t you be at work?”

“It’s my day off. Other than that court appearance I had this morning.”

“Oh.”

He hammered on another shingle, then climbed down the ladder and pulled on his shirt. “All done.” He plucked the second chocolate-chip cookie from her hand and took a giant bite.

“Hey!”

“This wasn’t for me?” His expression turned all innocent, but she didn’t miss the grin tugging the corner of his lips.

Becki rolled her eyes. “What kind of man steals from a cripple?”

Laughter danced in his eyes as he popped the other half into his mouth. “A hungry one.”

Sarah scurried to the door. “I’ll bring out a plate with more.”

Becki squinted up at the roof. “I really appreciate your taking care of that for me.” She sank into a chair. “I don’t think I could have afforded to hire a roofer.”

“No job prospects yet?”

“Not a one.”

Sarah flounced back outside carrying a tall glass of lemonade and a plate loaded with cookies. “I thought you’d appreciate a cool drink, too.”

Becki squirmed in her seat. Since when had Sarah turned into Suzie Homemaker?

Sarah took the chair opposite Becki and motioned Josh toward the one beside her.

Josh rested his hip on the arm and leaned toward Becki. “What if I told you that I got a gig for you?”

“A gig?”

“A freelance writing gig. If the editor likes what you produce, he’ll give you more assignments.”

“Are you serious? With what publication? On what topic?”

“For the region’s tourism magazine, on touring in an antique car. The editor wants you to go on an upcoming weekend tour and write about the experience.”

“That’s awesome. Oh, wow. I can’t believe it.” Her heart felt like a helium balloon floating skyward. Light and carefree, soaring above the clouds. Then suddenly it popped. “But how will I get the car there? I’ve never towed a trailer.”

“That’s where I come in.”

“Really? You’ll come with me?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of a condition of the assignment.” Josh caught Becki’s hand. “You okay with that?”

“Abso—” Meeting his gaze, Becki’s answer stalled in her drying throat.

The phone rang, but Sarah popped from her seat and said she’d get it almost before Becki registered the sound. The instant Sarah disappeared inside, Becki yanked her hand from Josh’s hold. “What are you doing? My sister’s going to think we’re dating or something.”

“Yeah, that was the idea.”

Her jaw dropped. He wanted to make Sarah jealous?

Josh hooked his finger beneath her chin and nudged it closed. “I figured your sister would be more likely to stop pressuring you to sell if she saw you had someone on your side.” He slanted a glance toward the door. “All afternoon, she’s prattled on over how concerned she is about you living out here alone.”