Misty Lake: Book One in the Misty Lake Series (4 page)

“I’ve been giving that some thought since you stopped by this morning and no, I really don’t. Most of the folks I know are serious about their hunting and fishing and with that comes a certain respect for animals.”

The men let the conversation go when Sam returned with lemonade and the offer to lend a hand. “It looks as good as new,” Sam proclaimed when the new glass was in place. Thank you, Stu,” she said, reaching out impulsively to give him a hug. She found the blush rising on Stu’s cheeks impossibly sweet but turned to keep from embarrassing him further. 

“And thank you, Sheriff McCabe, I appreciate the help.” And she did, even if her heart had raced a little every time she’d caught a glimpse of Jake stretching to hold the window in place. She didn’t realize she was staring until Stu climbed in his truck and the creaking of the door snapped her out of her daydream.

“See you tomorrow, Sam, Sheriff,” Stu said waving out the window as he pulled away.

“Is there anything else, Sheriff, or will you be getting back to the office?” Sam asked, sounding a little snippier than she intended but needing to put some distance between herself and the man who was getting under her skin.

“A few more questions for you, Ms. Taylor,” Jake answered, aware of the change in Sam’s demeanor.

“Oh, for crying out loud, call me Sam,” she almost shouted. Then, more calmly, “What can I answer for you?”

“Do you recall Rigi fussing at all during the night, maybe due to the fact that she heard something outside? It might give us an idea of what time the damage occurred.”

“I don’t. She usually sleeps in my room, I keep a bed for her in there, but when it’s warm she likes the tile floor in the bathroom better. Still, she would have been close, I think I would have heard if she growled or barked.”

“Okay. The shop is far enough from the house that it’s likely she didn’t hear anything.”

Sam paused, a chill making its way up her spine. “You were thinking whoever did this was up at the house, too, weren’t you?” The thought hadn’t entered her mind before and it was unsettling.

“No, not necessarily. In fact, probably not. I think the dog would have heard someone had they gotten very close.”

“Hmmm,” was all she could say as she considered the possibility.

“I need to ask a little more about the animals you found. I’m sorry,” he added at her pained expression, “I’ll be as brief as possible. Can you give me an idea of how much blood was on the steps?”

“What? Why would need to know that?” she asked, horrified.

“Again, I’m sorry, it will just give me a better idea of what actually happened. Was there blood pooled on the step? Had it dripped down onto the ground? I know it’s not pleasant but it will help. Really.”

“Okay, okay.” Sam looked off into the distance. “There really wasn’t that much blood, come to think of it. The top step in front of the door was bloody, I had to scrub it, but I wouldn’t say the blood had pooled there. And no, there wasn’t any blood on the ground around the step or dripping down onto the other steps.”

Jake made a quick note on his pad and decided it was enough for today. She had probably told him everything she could and he could tell she needed a change of subject. “How about I help you carry these glasses back up to the house?”

She was grateful for the reprieve. She handed him the glasses as she turned for the house.

“Quite a place you have here,” Jake said as they climbed the wooden steps up to the double front doors. “I have to admit, I’ve been a little curious.”

“It is quite something,” Sam agreed. “Sometimes I still can’t quite believe I’m living here.”

They were in the kitchen now, all shiny stainless steel and granite. The rough-hewn wood floor was a perfect fit for a lake home, Jake thought. Something he would have chosen.

Sam noticed him examining the cabinets. “They’re cherry, custom-made. Gorgeous, aren’t they? I wish I could have made them myself,” she said as she ran her hand along the smooth wood and admired, for the hundredth time, the excellent craftsmanship. “I’m a little jealous, I have to admit. I often wonder who did make them. There are so many things I just don’t know.” She grew quiet and her eyes had a far-off, hurt look.

“So you really didn’t know about this place until you got here?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

“No, I really didn’t. I expected to find the old cabin, though I didn’t even know my grandfather still owned that until after he died.” She looked at Jake, leaning against the counter, one booted foot crossed over the other. He looked so at ease, so confident. She wondered how long it had been since she’d felt that way. The past year and a half had shaken her to the core and it was a long climb back. “Can I get you something to drink, a beer, glass of wine, soda?” As she saw Jake glance at his watch she added, “Or do you have to get back?” She realized she wanted him to stay.

“Actually, I’m off duty so I’d take you up on that beer if it’s not too much trouble.” He wanted to stay, wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

She grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, poured a glass of wine for herself, and led Jake to the living room. The soft, chocolate brown leather sofas were arranged to take full advantage of both the cozy fireplace and the view of the lake. When Jake took a seat on one of the sofas, Sam hesitated before sitting down on the opposite end of the same sofa.

“You were close to your grandfather,” Jake said, more a statement than a question.

“Yes, he raised my brother and me. My parents were killed when I was twelve, Danny had just turned eleven.”

“I’m sorry, Sam, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” he said softly.

He was right. So often people assumed the passing of time made the hurt go away. It didn’t. Dulled it, maybe, but it would always be there. Along with the questions. What if they hadn’t died? What would her life be like? Would Danny still be alive? Would her grandfather? She looked at Jake, saw the kind and patient look in his eyes, and was pleased. He knew it wasn’t pity she needed, just someone to listen. With him, she felt like she needed to talk.

“My parents were on their way to my school for a program. My grandmother was in the car with them. It was early winter, one of the first snowfalls, and the roads were getting icy. The driver coming toward them lost control and hit them head on. My parents were in the front seat and were killed instantly. My grandmother was in the back, she was very seriously injured but was alive when the ambulance arrived.”

Sam took a deep breath and continued in a monotone voice, unable to stop the words. “My grandfather was a doctor, he was semi-retired but one of his patients had been hospitalized and had asked for him. That’s the only reason he was at the hospital that day instead of in the car with my parents. When the ambulance arrived with my grandmother he was able to see her for a minute. She was unconscious but he had the chance to hold her hand and tell her he loved her. She died in surgery. In one afternoon I lost my parents and my grandmother. My grandfather lost his son, his daughter-in-law, and his wife of nearly fifty years. And became responsible for two scared and confused children.”

Sam paused and Jake moved closer to take her hand. “He did his best but he had his own grief to deal with. It was rough for a while, even at twelve I could see that. My uncle and aunt came back for the funerals and tried to talk my grandfather into letting them take us back with them. I wasn’t supposed to hear their conversation but I did. It was the first time I had ever heard adults really yell at each other. My uncle argued his brother would have wanted him to raise his children. I’m sure he was right. But they were living in Switzerland at the time, a temporary transfer for his job, and my grandfather was adamant that we weren’t going to be uprooted from our friends, our school, and everything we knew when we were already dealing with so much. It went on for a long time, they argued back and forth, and I know my uncle wished things could have been different. In the end, we stayed with my grandfather.”

Sam sighed and looked at Jake. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone on like that.” She looked down at their hands, fingers intertwined, and while she couldn’t quite remember it happening, realized it felt right. That was something she would have to think about later.

“Don’t apologize, Sam. Never apologize for speaking what’s in your heart.” He squeezed her hand and shifted a little closer. “Was it your uncle you went to visit in Switzerland?”

It took her a moment to remember mentioning her trip and was touched he had listened so closely. “Yes, the summer after my parents died my brother and I spent a couple weeks with them. My grandfather thought we needed to get away. I remember fighting him bitterly. I didn’t want to go, I was terrified something would happen to him while we were away. It turned out to be a good trip, though. Spending time with my cousins helped and things seemed almost normal again for a while. My uncle joked Switzerland would never be the same after having so many Taylors there,” Sam smiled at the memory.

“Just how many cousins do you have?”

“Oh, only four,” she laughed, “but I guess when we’re all together we have a way of making it seem like more. We’ve always been close and when they came back to the States I was thrilled…and relieved. It was hard having them so far away.”

“How about your mother’s side of the family?” Jake asked, selfishly wanting to keep her talking to make his time with her last longer.

“No,” she replied wistfully, “my mother was an only child, a surprise born long after my grandparents had accepted they would never have children. They both died when I was a baby.”

“So, that’s your past,” Jake began after a moment, “what about now? You’re in a strange place with no family around. What’s your brother doing? He stayed in Chicago?”

Sam tensed, her eyes clouded, and Jake knew instantly he had said something wrong. Sam turned away and answered softly, “He died.”

Jake desperately wished that he could take his words back. “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry. I had no business asking you so many personal questions.” It just wasn’t fair, he thought to himself, one person shouldn’t have to deal with so much loss.

“My grandfather died of a heart attack about six months after Danny died. Sometimes I think his heart just simply couldn’t take any more hurt.”

He wanted to hold her and comfort her, to do something to take away the hurt he could see on her face but he knew it wasn’t what she needed. Instead he sat, holding her hand, while dusk began to settle over the lake.

Sam was thankful for his silence. Sometimes she thought if she heard one more ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘what can I do’ she might snap. Of course people cared and were trying to help, but she wished more of them would realize sometimes all she needed was someone to sit next to her and hold her hand. Like Jake was doing right now.

Eventually Sam spoke again, softly. “I still have so many questions. Why did my grandfather build this place and never tell me? Why leave it to me? He has a son, other grandchildren. I feel guilty sometimes.”

He could sense frustration, anger even, in her voice and understood. So much had been taken from her. “He had never spoken to your uncle or your cousins about this place, either?”

“No, no one knew. He left them letters, though. They all got letters after he died, everyone but me, I got this,” she said, lifting her hands and letting them drop. “I didn’t want to read them, they all offered, but it was too hard. They told me a little. He mentioned the lake place but gave no details, just that he wanted me to have it. Same with his money. I didn’t even know he had money, he didn’t tell anyone about that, either. We lived comfortably enough but there was never much extra. According to his lawyer, he had money from insurance policies and from retirement accounts and investments stashed away. He left some to the others but, again, the bulk went to me. I just don’t understand, Jake.”

It was the first time she had used his name, he realized. He liked how it sounded but wished she didn’t seem so heartbroken. “I think sometimes we’re not meant to understand. We just have to accept.”

“I guess you’re right,” and because the urge to lean into his shoulder was so great, she jumped up from the sofa. Time to change the subject, she decided. “Enough of my life story, you must be starving,” she said with an enthusiasm she struggled to feel.

Sensing she needed a distraction, he stood up with her. “I could eat something if you’re offering.”

She smiled, putting her earlier thoughts out of her mind for the time being, and headed to the kitchen. 

As they sat together eating the salad she had thrown together along with some cheese and crusty French bread, Sam turned the tables and asked Jake, “So what about your family? Are there a lot of McCabes running around Misty Lake?”

“Enough,” he answered with an exaggerated eye roll. “My parents live in town, my dad grew up here and my mom just a few miles away. I have three brothers, a sister, and more cousins than I care to claim.”

“Big families are nice. Are your brothers and sister all in town?” Sam asked, fighting off the hurt that threatened.

“Yeah, there’re all here. Makes my mom happy. She’s been wanting grandchildren since my sister left for college and lets us know about it on a regular basis,” he said, shaking his head.