Up in Flames (23 page)

He waited a few seconds while Cal decided whether to part with the information. “It was stolen,” he said finally.

So they had no idea who it was. He had one—Emmett had been known to steal cars as a teenager.

“Why is Sophie with you?” The sharpness was back in Cal’s voice.

Sophie’s brother-in-law had made a bad first impression, and this call wasn’t making it any better. “Ask her yourself. If you want to see her, she’ll be at the commune in a few hours.” He hung up.

Sophie met him in the kitchen five minutes later, wearing the shorts and T-shirt she’d hadn’t made much use of last night. “I need to go home and get my own clothes.”

“That’ll be our first stop.”

She blinked. “Our
first
stop?”

“If it wasn’t safe to leave you alone there last night, it’s no safer this morning.” When she opened her mouth in what was obviously going to be a protest, he added, “I wasn’t kidding about Emmett, Sophie. He’s dangerous, and you’re on his radar.”

“But I thought you didn’t want him to know I meant anything to you. He’s not going to buy it if you keep me tethered to you all day.”

“Exactly. That’s why you need to be someplace where you’re both safe and far away from me. Like the commune.” Her eyes narrowed, undoubtedly resentful that he was telling her what she had to do, so he rushed to explain. “Think about it—it’s family, and it’s safe. With that pack of mutts they have running around, Emmett can’t approach the property without a dozen people knowing it. No one can. It’s the best place, and it’s just until the police tell you it’s safe again.” She didn’t look happy, but she was thinking it over, so he pressed his point. “Run it by your brother-in-law the cop if you want to.”

She pressed her lips together in disgust. “I don’t have to, I already know he’d like to lock me away someplace until he has you behind bars. So would my sisters. And once Cal reads the police report about last night, he’ll tell Maggie and she’ll probably organize a posse and hunt me down.” She frowned over her options, then sighed. “Okay, take me to the commune. But you have to keep me posted on anything you hear about the investigation.”

“Don’t worry, if anything happens you’ll probably find out before I do. It seems like I’m always the last one to know.” He rubbed his thumb over the worried pucker between her eyebrows, wishing he could erase her anxiety. “It’s not so bad to stay up there for a while, is it? You were always close to them.”

“Oh, I still am. I just don’t like being wrapped in layers of protection—everyone’s done that to me my whole life. They’re all family, and that’s a lot of apron strings to cut.” She tipped her head as if pondering a new thought. “I never took you there, did I? We were pretty secretive that summer.”

“I was there for Jase and Zoe’s wedding.”

“But you’ve never actually met my family, have you?”

He shook his head. “I met Zoe once, but I don’t really know her. And I met Maggie at the reception.”

She smiled, the first hint of happiness he’d seen since bringing up the commune. “This could be a good idea, then. Once they all meet you, they’ll see that you aren’t the walking embodiment of evil that they seem to think you are. They’ll realize they’ve been wrong about you.”

She obviously liked the idea. He didn’t.

If the Larkin sisters and the members of the People’s Free Earth Commune didn’t already harbor doubts about his character, he’d have to make sure they did. Being around him was dangerous for Sophie, both professionally and personally. Before he left the commune, he planned to make damn sure the rest of her family believed that.

15

D
riving up Two
Bears Mountain under a high, blue sky should have been relaxing. Spectacular views lay around every bend in the winding road, and the thin clouds forming as water vapor blew off the snowy peaks added to the breathtaking beauty of the meadows and forest below. But Zane’s mind was on the people he’d meet at the commune, and the bad impression he needed to make. And damn it, he was as nervous as a teenager about to meet his prom date’s parents.

The closer they got to the commune, the chattier Sophie became. She gave him brief profiles of each member of the commune as they drove. He heard about her mother’s psychology degrees, Pete’s law background and his talent at jewelry making, Header’s horticultural knowledge and his mad skills on guitar. He even heard about Feather’s arrests for protesting at nuclear plants, her cancer, and her lingering distrust of the law. He empathized with that last one.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the stunning house of stone and timber that looked as impressive as any of the executive vacation homes tucked into the mountain slopes outside Barringer’s Pass. Jase’s wedding and reception had been in a small meadow from which he’d seen nothing of the commune but a barn and a herd of sheep.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. “I thought hippies were poor.”

“Why would you think that? The commune’s been very successful.” She had her door open before he came to a full stop. “Lay on the horn a few times,” she told him, “in case they ignore the dogs.” She stepped out and disappeared from view as she knelt to greet the six or seven dogs that had given them a barking escort the last thousand feet to the house. He gave a couple of sharp taps on the horn and went to join her, glad for the distraction of the dogs to hide his discomfort.

These were probably nice, gentle, nonjudgmental people. And he was going to have to make them think he was a threat to Sophie.

His guilt was momentarily jarred aside by an excited shout. He looked up to see a woman wave and break into a jog. Her hair, a faded red shot with gray, was tied up in a makeshift bun, but errant strands blew around her face as she held up her long skirt and ran to Sophie, throwing herself, laughing, into her arms. “Baby! I didn’t expect you!” she exclaimed. “This is so nice!”

“I thought I’d surprise you,” Sophie said, as if dropping by had been a happy whim, and not because some maniac was hunting her down. He’d known she’d do that, pretend everything was fine. He’d let them know otherwise.

Sophie turned to him. “Mom, this is Zane Thorson. Zane, meet Kate Larkin.” And she turned her mom loose on him.

That was what it felt like, anyway, being unexpectedly enveloped in a hug that clamped his arms to his sides and made him blink with surprise. Bracelets jingled and a lumpy beaded necklace poked his sternum. When she let go, she held him at arm’s length, took a deep breath, and seemed to reach a decision. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Zane,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “Sophie tells me most of the assumptions I’ve made are wrong. My daughter’s a bright girl, so I have to trust that she knows better than I do in this instance.” She glanced at Sophie, lifting an eyebrow as if to say she’d better be right. “So welcome to our home, Zane Thorson. I hope you can stay awhile.”

Her forthright admission surprised him, and he found it easy to smile at her. “Actually, Mrs. Larkin, I can’t stay long, but Sophie can.”

Genuine amusement flashed in her grin. “I’ve never been a ‘Mrs.,’ and please call me Kate.” She looked at her daughter. “Is that right, Sophie? Are you staying with us?”

“For a few days, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s wonderful! Come on inside, we’ll have something to drink and I’ll pretend to be politely curious about Zane while I probe his mind for deviant behavior patterns.” She linked arms with them, and gave him a disarming smile. “You don’t mind, do you, Zane?”

“Uh . . .” He darted a glance at Sophie, who bit back a smile. “As long as it doesn’t reflect poorly on Sophie if I turn out to be a psychopath.”

Kate beamed. “Good answer.”

He wanted to say something clever, but had the feeling Kate Larkin was two steps ahead of him and too smart to tangle with. He should have been worried, but for some reason her easy smile and blunt honesty relaxed him. Usually, the only honest reactions he got were hateful stares when someone was too tired to keep up a polite mask of indifference. Knowing where he stood with Kate was refreshing.

“I hope you can stay long enough to tour the commune and meet everyone, Zane,” Kate said.

“Will they be evaluating me, too?”

She laughed. “Oh, no doubt.”

She wasn’t kidding. The tour Kate took him on included stops at the outbuildings that housed the commune’s pottery and jewelry shops, the greenhouses, and the barn. Everywhere, the commune members stopped what they were doing to talk with him. They all seemed to be in their sixties and seventies, and firmly mired in 1970. The women favored long hair and jewelry. A couple of the men had grizzled beards and thin gray ponytails, but others looked like any man on the street in Barringer’s Pass, if you made exceptions for the peace signs and flowers embroidered into their frayed jeans. And every one of them asked what he thought about what they were doing, and wanted to hear all about his landscaping business. It felt more like an intensive interview than a psychological assessment, but he knew opinions were being shaped. It was his job to ensure they weren’t favorable.

“My business isn’t actually doing that well,” he told the bushy-bearded man named Pete. “Maybe I don’t put enough effort into it.” He shrugged to show that he was fine with a lazy lifestyle.

“That’s not true,” Sophie interjected. He hadn’t seen her behind him, but she stepped to his side, giving him an admonishing look. “He puts in endless hours, and it’s beginning to pay off. He’s just finishing a big job for an influential client, and more are bound to follow once they see his work.”

Trying to look unconcerned, he pointed out the one fact she couldn’t dispute. “That’ll probably change if they arrest me for murder.”

She stuck her hands on her hips, not letting him enjoy his bad-ass image for a second. “If they do, they’re wrong, and they’ll have a huge fight on their hands, not to mention a possible lawsuit for harassment and false arrest. I’ve had it with this town’s prejudice.”

He could only hope his tolerant smile made her look naive if she believed that. Whether Pete bought it was unclear; his piercing gaze darted between them but he made no comment as Sophie continued to vent her frustration with local attitudes and opinions.

He tried again with the woman called Feather. She smiled fondly at him, her eyes crinkling with kindness behind her wire-rimmed spectacles, and he steeled himself against her grandmotherly charm. Since they all seemed to be as highly educated as Sophie, he emphasized his significant failings in that area. “I do my best, but it’s not like I’m professionally trained, you know. I didn’t take any classes in design or horticulture or running a small business—none of it. Guess I should have. There’s probably a lot I don’t know about landscape design.”

Feather shook her head, sending her frizzy gray hair waving around her head like a fuzzy halo. “Don’t buy into that establishment bullshit, man.” Tiny bells tinkled somewhere in the mass of beads around her neck as she gripped his arm to emphasize her point. “Books are great, but some things have to come from the heart. The best artists are self-taught, and that’s what you are. An artist.”

He had to stomp down a flush of pleasure at finding someone who understood that part of his profession. “Uh, well, it’s mostly just moving dirt and rocks around.”

She laughed. “I saw what you did at Jase and Zoe’s house, and that was pure artistry.”

Shit, he’d forgotten about that family connection. And he wouldn’t deny it—the job he’d done for Jase was impressive.

“Plus, I can tell you care for the environment in the way you incorporated native vegetation in the design, and you didn’t interfere with the natural runoff on that slope. That kind of insight is vital to the delicate ecology of the mountains.”

“I guess.” It was tough to argue with someone who really got what he was doing.

Excitement sparked behind her granny glasses. “I’ll bet you designed the backyard for that little house up on Spring Street, too, didn’t you? That’s your style.”

He had a style? He felt pride light his expression, and squashed it. “The natural features of that property made it easy.”

She shook her fuzzy halo again. “It was easy because you saw how to work that gazebo and flower garden into the yard without ruining the rugged feel of the mountains. Pure artistry. Super cool, man.”

“Uh, thanks.” This wasn’t going as planned. He’d never had to work at damaging his reputation before, and wasn’t sure what more he could do without confessing to a murder he didn’t commit. He was brooding over it when Kate led them into the barn to meet the woman who took care of their sheep. The first surprise was that she was young, not a sixty-five-year-old hippie. The second surprise was the two women with her.

“Zane, this is Gwen. She married Pete’s son Eli, and they both decided to stay here. And you know—”

“Zoe,” he said. “And Maggie.”

Kate’s happy smile took in all three of her daughters, seeming not to notice that the older two hadn’t bothered to say hello. “Zoe and Gwen are starting a clothing line using wool from the sheep, and Maggie is thinking of carrying some of the items in her store. If we could just find something to do with insects, I might be able to talk Sophie into getting involved with the commune, too.” She laughed, but Zane thought she meant it. They were a close family.

“Hey,” Kate said, brightening at a sudden thought. “Do you want to see Zoe and Gwen’s clothing line? I have the first samples at the house.”

“Sure!” Sophie gave Zane an apologetic grin. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in a fashion show.”

“That’s okay, go with your mom. I’ll stay here and check out the sheep.” He held Maggie’s eyes as he said it, then turned a direct look on Zoe, letting them know he had no interest in the sheep. It was them he wanted to talk to.

Sophie went off with her mother, the two of them chatting about shawls and sweaters until their voices faded away, leaving nothing but the occasional bleating of sheep in the adjoining pasture to break the silence. Gwen took one look at the serious expressions on their faces as the three stared silently at one another and excused herself to go do something outside.

He stood in the main aisle of the barn, empty sheep pens on either side, facing Sophie’s sisters. From the open doors, beams of sunlight shot through the gloom, touching her sisters’ red hair with fire, and surrounding them with dancing dust motes. Very pretty. Much prettier than the nearly identical looks of suspicion they were drilling into him.

Good; if he could build on that, he might not have to worry about Sophie for quite a while.

“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked.

He would have been rude, telling her it was none of her business, but on this issue he needed them on his side. “I brought Sophie to stay here because she’s in danger. She thinks it’s for a few days, but you should convince her to stay as long as possible.”

Their dagger-filled stares vanished, replaced by startled expressions of concern. “What kind of danger?” Maggie demanded, while Zoe asked, “Why is she in danger?”

“She’s in danger because she’s trying to defend me,” he told Zoe, making his bad influence clear. “She’s going places she shouldn’t go, talking to people who have things to hide. People who get awfully nervous when they think someone knows more than they should.” He looked at Maggie. “Last night someone chased her through the woods, brandishing a knife. He could simply have wanted to scare her, to make her back off, but I think he meant to kill her. She’s lucky she got away. She might not be so lucky next time.”

Panic touched their faces as they both began talking. “She didn’t say anything about it!” he heard, followed by irritation that Cal hadn’t informed Maggie, and alarmed comments to each other about the scratches on Sophie’s neck and hands. Finally, Zoe said, “I’m going to make her talk,” taking a determined step toward the open barn door.

“Wait.” Maggie laid a hand on her forearm while leveling a sharp look at Zane. “Why did she tell you and not us? Were you with her? How do we know the guy with the knife wasn’t after you?”

Zoe seemed suddenly interested in hearing his answer, too.

He bit back a dry smile; making sure these two didn’t like him was going to be incredibly easy. “I wasn’t with her. She was alone, but she called me when she got to safety. My guess is that she didn’t call you because she doesn’t want anyone trying to stop her from snooping around. If you ask her about it, she’ll play it down, but you should know it was serious. Someone wants to hurt her, maybe kill her. She needs to be as far from B-Pass as possible.”

Maggie frowned. “We should talk her into going farther away,” she told Zoe. “Doesn’t she have an old roommate in California?”

“That won’t work,” he said, cutting off their plans before they could form. “She just turned down a job offer because it was in Costa Rica.”

Zoe’s head jerked back in surprise. “She turned down a job offer? A real one, as an entomologist?”

“Working with insects and reptiles on a movie set,” he told her. “Probably making more money than she’d make at some research lab.”

He knew he’d surprised them again from the puzzled looks they exchanged. They studied him, as if he’d somehow had something to do with that decision. “I told her to take the job,” he said, in case there was any doubt.

“But she wanted to stay here and defend you instead?”

She hadn’t given a reason, but that sounded like a good one to go with. “Yeah. Not a good idea.”

“She has a strong sense of social justice,” Zoe said.

“Maybe it’s misplaced.”

“Uh-huh.” Maggie tipped her head, watching him so closely he wondered if she’d picked up the technique from Cal. He felt like a suspect. “Why did you bring her here, again?”

“I told you, to keep her away from a killer.”