Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance (13 page)

Asa lifted her in his arms and walked down the tiny corridor into her room. Sarah’s bed was a mattress on a built-up platform and covered with pillows.

He knelt down, lowered her until her back was against the pillows, his knee between her legs. He could feel her body hair feathering his kneecap as he began to kiss her, skimming her face with his mouth, tasting, memorizing her features.

A smile stretching across her face, Sarah openly watched him. No pulling back, no restraint. A coil of heat began to writhe in her lower body as she ran her fingers up and down Asa’s back, across his chest, circling his nipples and tracing the cords of muscle in his arms.

He pressed himself against her, or maybe she reached out to touch him. She didn’t know. She only knew that they were still too much apart. She lifted her arms to pull him closer.

She was no longer the inexperienced child of seventeen she had been the first time. Now she was a woman and no matter what had happened before, this was new. She’d never suspected that loving could be so good. There was no awkwardness, no embarrassment, only a feeling of rightness, as if they’d been drawn together in some sort of natural plan that was unfolding around them like a rare night-blooming flower.

And then they were together, completely, joined as lovers, moving through the intricate dance of the senses. They were touching as if they’d never touched before and never would again, as if already they knew that they would lose their capacity to feel in the light of day and this night was all there would ever be.

Asa had never known such intense pleasure, nor had he ever wanted so much to give joy to a woman as he wanted to now. When he breathed he shared the same air that she breathed. When he moved she followed his
motion. They were like two leaves joined in a stream, rushing headlong into the white waters that flung them over the edge.

Afterward they were drifting, holding each other, both stunned by the wonder of what they’d just experienced. Slippery bodies began to dry. Desire turned into fulfillment and the unknown became one priceless moment of belonging.

Sarah lay with her head on Asa’s chest, one leg flung across his lower body. She held on to him, unwilling to move for fear of separating from this man who had suddenly become the center of her being.

After a time, she recognized the old tension gathering in his body, and she stretched, sliding her leg even higher, wanting to gather him to her so that their parting wouldn’t come.

“Hey, I thought it was the woman who was supposed to have regrets,” she said.

“And do you?” His voice was tense.

“Not one. If I never have your love, I’ll have had this.”

“And that’s enough?”

“No, but I’ll try not to be too greedy. I’m not one of those temporary people in your life, Asa, but I’ll never be a weight around your neck either.”

“Sarah, listen to me. All my life people have pulled away from me. Oh, they’d start off by making me think that they wanted me, but sooner or later, they left. You will too. I know.”

“Not me. Truth is, if you want me, big boy,”
she said with exaggerated huskiness, “all you have to do is whistle.”

“Don’t make jokes.” Asa pulled her over him, his forehead creased into a deep frown. “I don’t want to feel this way, as if we’re connected somehow and belong together. But I do, and I’m scared.”

Sarah looked deeply into Asa’s eyes. She could see the little boy who was rejected, who was returned over and over again to the orphanage, and she could feel the hurt he’d known. Now, he was trying to build a wall between them by rejecting her. But even as she stared down at him, she felt the wall begin to collapse.

“Don’t be,” she whispered and kissed him. As their bodies found new ways to fit together, their lips spoke words of promise that banished all their fears. The first time they came together Asa loved Sarah. This time Sarah loved him back.

Later they lay entwined, sated, happy. The sky was black. Through the window the stars gleamed in the night sky.

“Are you ready to eat?” Sarah finally asked.

“I don’t think I can walk to the kitchen,” Asa admitted.

“Then I’ll bring the food to you.”

He came to one elbow and looked at her. “You already have.”

“That was food for the soul, Asa. Now I intend to nourish your body.” She grinned and slipped unselfconsciously from the bed.

Sarah was tying the sash of her robe when
the phone rang. Captain Sims from the Smyrna Police Department was looking for Asa. She handed him the phone, covering the receiver as she whispered, “Snow Sims, for you.”

Asa sat up, wondering how the captain knew he was with Sarah. “Yes.”

“Sorry to bother you, but I just talked to Paul Martin.”

Aha! Officer Martin must have told Sims to call Sarah’s number.

“You’d better get over to Sarah’s shop,” Sims went on.

“Why?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but somebody’s trashed it big time.”

A chill ran over Asa. When he was a child one of his foster mothers had been fond of the phrase, “A rabbit just ran over my grave.”

Asa knew now what the phrase meant.

Seven

“Why would anybody do this?”

Sarah stood in the middle of her shop, turning slowly around. The place hadn’t just been ransacked, it had been destroyed. The windows were broken. The shelves had been split. All the equipment was upturned and her stock had been unboxed and piled in the middle of the floor.

Frowning, Asa studied the destruction. He felt great rage that someone had violated Sarah’s shop. This was her place, a part of her. Whoever did this couldn’t have known Sarah or it would never have happened.

“Why?” she repeated.

Asa reached out, put his arms around Sarah, and held her.

“I don’t know why, Sarah. Vandals. Some kids having fun. I don’t know. Did you keep any money here?”

She laughed. “Me? No, I don’t get much cash. There were a few checks. They were in a box under the counter.”

Sarah pulled away and walked over to what used to be her counter. The box was still underneath, along with her receipt book and the container that had held her claim tickets.

Officer Paul Martin was directing other officers in searching the building for evidence. “Glad you’re here, Asa. They broke in through the back door. Wasn’t even a professional job. Somebody just picked up a rock, broke the glass, and reached inside to open the door.”

Asa turned to Sarah.

“I thought you were in the security business. Don’t you have some kind of burglar alarm here?”

“Good heavens, no. I’ve even been known to leave the door unlocked. If they’d tried they probably could have walked right in. Why would anybody break in? Everybody knows I don’t keep cash here.”

“There must have been something here, something that somebody was looking for,” Asa insisted. “Think, Sarah.”

“No. I don’t have anything valuable, not unless—wait a minute. The old man.”

“What old man?”

“He came in last week just before I closed. He had an old safe that he wanted me to open.”

“Lincoln Grimsley,” Paul said.

“Grimsley was here?” Asa turned a disbelieving look toward Sarah.

“Yes. Do you know him?” Sarah asked, as Asa took her arm and pulled her over to one corner, away from the officers who were taking fingerprints on the counter.

Paul followed. “Lincoln Grimsley was an ex-con, just got out of jail. Checked in over at the department last week when he first got to town. Just wanted to see his old family home. Seemed harmless enough.”

“That’s why he was so pale,” Sarah muttered. “I thought he’d been sick.”

“Tell us about the safe, Sarah,” Asa told her, trying to remain calm despite the fear growing in him.

“Well, he was very anxious about opening it. It was pretty small and he didn’t want it destroyed. He was supposed to come back Monday morning. He never showed up.”

“I think we know why,” Asa declared.

Paul caught Asa’s worried expression. “Did you notice anything else unusual about him, Sarah?”

“He was polite. He seemed nervous. Oh, and he was missing a thumb on his right hand.”

“That was definitely him,” Paul stated.

Asa paced back and forth, a frown on his face. “What about the safe? Any idea where he got it?”

“Don’t know anything about that,” Paul answered. “He didn’t have it when I saw him. But he did call back later asking about locksmiths.” He groaned. “I recommended Sarah.”

“I’d say,” Captain Sims commented, “that he found the safe in the house.”

They were talking back and forth as if Sarah wasn’t there. “He did,” she interjected. “There was a family legend that said it was there, that it contained the family treasure. He said that the renovators had found an old room that had been sealed off. The safe was inside.”

Captain Sims nodded. “Treasure. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“No,” Sarah said. “The safe was too light to have gold or silver, so Mr. Grimsley figured it was filled with Confederate paper money.”

“Is it?” Asa and Paul inquired at once.

“I don’t know. The numbers are worn off on the lock and I can’t figure out the combination.”

“Then whoever killed him must be after the safe.” Asa let out a sigh.

“Men, keep a watch out for a small safe. It would be something that could be carried about, wouldn’t it?” Paul asked, turning to Sarah for a description.

She shook her head. “Oh, it isn’t here. I took it home with me.”

“You have it? That explains everything,” Paul said happily. “That’s why everything is torn apart. They didn’t find it. Maybe they don’t know for sure that you have it. Maybe they’re still looking.”

“I agree,” Asa said, the grooves in his forehead deepening.

“In that case”—Sims took a last look around—“I think we’ve done about all we can do tonight. You men close the place as best
you can and we’ll look around some more in the daylight.”

Asa watched the burglary team file out and drive away. He turned to Sims. “We’d better put out a notice to the other locksmiths in the area.”

“Done.”

“At least they didn’t come to the shop while you were here, Sarah,” Asa said quietly.

“I think we can assume that they won’t be back here. Sarah ought to be safe,” Paul declared.

“But I’m afraid they may know that I still have it,” Sarah put in. “I just remembered. I left Mr. Grimsley a note on the door, saying I hadn’t been able to open the safe and to call me.”

“Damn!” Asa’s voice dropped an octave. “Is it still there?”

Paul walked quickly over to the door. He turned back and shook his head.

“Great!” Asa exclaimed. “You leave messages on your answering machine and your front door. Anybody who wanted to could probably find you at any given moment. Just great!”

“You said Mr. Grimsley was killed,” Sarah said quietly. “The man who drowned?”

“What happened to him, Sarah,” Asa said bluntly, “was that he was shot and thrown into the river.”

“Oh no.” Sarah caught Paul’s arm. She felt a sudden light-headedness, as if she’d been playing ball in the sun too long and needed to sit down.

“Are you all right, Sarah?” he asked, sliding his arm around her shoulder.

“Yes. No. How could anybody hurt that old man?”

Asa glared at Sarah. Hurt that old man. She had to be the most trusting soul in the world. She flitted through life, assuming nobody meant her any harm, that everybody was as kind and innocent as she. Now life was shattering her innocence and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“He’s a swindler, Sarah,” Asa said. “His last address was the federal pen. And he made some interesting friends in there, ones who thought he had a thumb too many.”

Snow Sims let out a deep sigh. “Any ideas, Canyon?”

“My guess is that Grimsley knew something that somebody wanted to know. The missing thumb has all the markings of torture. The men who did that could be the same group that ripped up this place.”

Sarah shivered. She didn’t want to believe that that kind of criminal mind had invaded her safe little town. Of course there were drugs, and sometimes a man would get drunk and beat up his wife on Saturday night. Occasionally more violent crimes took place. But this came from the outside and that frightened Sarah.

Asa walked over and took Sarah’s hand, pulling her forward into the light. “Where is it, Sarah?”

“The safe? At home, in the loft. Why? Do
you think—Mother and Robert! Oh, Asa, you don’t think anybody would hurt them?”

Sims quickly flicked on his two-way phone and directed the nearest cars to the old Wilson place. He instructed them to check out both the house and the barn and to remain there until he arrived.

Asa helped Paul lock up the shop and then got into Sarah’s van with her, making sure one of the officers followed in his truck. They fell in behind Paul, blue lights flashing.

The Wilson house was surrounded with Smyrna police cars in a matter of minutes. But, apart from having alarmed Sarah’s mother and stepfather, everything seemed to be in order. After a thorough look around Sims and his officers were dispatched back to town. Any further needs would have to be supplied by the county police, under whose jurisdiction the Wilson property fell.

After they’d all gone Asa followed Sarah upstairs, closing and locking the door leading down to the basketball court. He turned to Sarah.

“Now, let’s see it.”

“The safe?”

“The safe.”

Sarah led him across the loft to the unfinished room in front of the hayloft doors. The long, narrow space had been turned into a storage area and workroom. It was filled with books, a desk, and assorted pieces of sports equipment. The safe was sitting on a table beneath a goosenecked lamp.

Asa studied the small lead safe. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at Sarah skeptically. “This is it?”

“That’s it. It appears to be some kind of wall safe, perhaps the kind that a European woman might have used to keep her jewels in.”

“Made in Europe, huh. Any idea where?”

“My guess would be Germany, but I can’t be certain. There seems to be some similarity between the lock and the works of a particular clock maker in the seventeenth century.”