On Deadly Ground (10 page)

“Likewise, Mr. Campbell,” she replied, assessing him. She glanced between Jake and Rachel. “You moved here recently?”

“Yes, six months ago. I’m the new wildlife conservation officer. Game warden, if you’re more familiar with that term.”

“I am. Are you enjoying the area, Mr. Campbell?”

Was there a hidden question there? Was she also asking if he was enjoying her son’s widow? There was still no way to answer except honestly. “I like it a lot. It’s similar to my old stomping grounds, although the mountains here are steeper. I’ve made some good friends.”
He glanced at Rachel who was still trying to hide her awkwardness. “I’ll get out of here so you can catch Mrs. Patterson up on the news before it hits the papers. You might want to call your parents, too.”

He heard Clarissa’s nervous “What’s happened?” but he kept his eyes on Rachel.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rachel replied.

“It would be better coming from you than a friend who still lives here. You know how stories get twisted around.”

She nodded. “You’re right. Thanks for following me down here this morning.”

“Anytime,” he replied. He battled with decorum for a moment, then said what he needed to say. If Mrs. Patterson objected … well, she’d just have to object. “I’ll stop by again in a little while. Call if you need me. I’ll be home.” Then he pushed through the screen door and crossed the driveway to his truck. He was climbing into the cab when he heard Clarissa Patterson’s shocked voice.

“They uncovered a body? Oh, dear God, Rachel, I wish David were here.”

There was no other way for her to respond, but Jake still felt a sharp twinge when Rachel said, “So do I.”

Rachel was still feeling uneasy when Clarissa—not Jake—followed her back to the Blackberry, then left to visit with Mamie Jackson before returning home to Johnstown. Unlike Rachel’s parents, the Pattersons hadn’t made their home in Charity—had always lived in the southern part of the state. But when David followed his heart to the woods, they’d visited their son often and formed friendships here.

Jenna was in the combination sitting room-library polishing cherrywood tables to a gleaming patina when Rachel walked in. Even dressed casually in plum-colored knit pants and a boat-necked, creamy, three-quarter-sleeve tunic, her beautiful friend looked
Vogue
chic. Jenna wore tunics and long sweaters often, but not to hide a tummy or thick waistline. Tunics didn’t ride up. Tunics didn’t reveal scars.

When Rachel had finished blurting out the day’s happenings, Jenna put down her soft cloth and beeswax polish and steered Rachel to a faux-antique sofa. She sat down beside her. “A body,” she said on a stunned breath.

“Yes. Clarissa offered to stay in Charity for a while. Her husband passed away before David died, so she’s able to come and go when she wants. But I told her there was no need—that I was staying with you and friends were taking good care of me.” She sent Jenna a bleak look. “She asked if Jake was one of them.”

“He was there when she arrived?”

She nodded. “And he came back later to see how I was doing. Eventually she asked if we were dating. I think she felt better when I told her he’d probably be reconciling with his ex.”

Jenna looked surprised. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know. Jake isn’t talking about her.”

“Then why would you say that he was recon—?”

“Because he was holding me when she walked in, and I felt guilty.” Rachel hurried to clarify. “Not the romantic kind of holding. I was upset, and he was just trying to make me feel better—the way any friend would.”

“I think he’s more than a friend,” Jenna said quietly,
then left it at that and changed the subject. She looked at Rachel intently. “You said Perris and Jake both think you should leave for a while and let your staff handle the campground opening.”

“Yes, but I can’t. There’s still a lot of work to do, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving it in inexperienced hands. The kids I hire are only there to watch the store, cut the grass and see that trash is collected. The only thing I can do is give it all to God. My life—”

“Your fears?”

That was a tall order. “As much as I can.”

Now fear clouded Jenna’s eyes. “Rachel, I believe that God watches over us, too. He gives us the grace we need to get through difficult times. But you need to do more than put this in His hands. There are people in this world who are so … so malevolent, so inherently evil that they won’t stop until they accomplish their goals. The man who burned your home could try to hurt you again.”

Gooseflesh covered Rachel’s arms, but she still tried to look at things logically. “Maybe not. The campground will be crawling with police and heaven knows who else for the next day or two, so I’d think he’d want to keep a low profile at this point—hope that the police lab won’t link any evidence they find to him. He might even run if he lives nearby.” She sent her friend a tentative look. “Jen, whoever did this is dangerous. But he’s not Court-land Dane.”

Jenna curved a hand over her stomach. It was an automatic gesture that Rachel had seen many times. “I realize that. But I’m living proof that when a man feels the need to kill, he acts without thinking things through rationally.” She paused. “I have a proposition for you.”

“What kind of proposition?”

“I want you to stay with me until Perris has someone in custody.” Rachel started to object, but Jenna went on. “All right, you can pay me the going rate, but please … don’t move into your camp store. I have an excellent security system and the police are nearby. You’ll be safe here.”

To Rachel’s relief, the phone rang, and Jenna left the room to answer it. She didn’t want her friend to worry but she couldn’t accept her offer, even though her stomach still shook and her fear was nearly indescribable. She knew she’d be jumping at shadows every time she heard an unfamiliar noise. But with Maggie at her side, Jake checking on her and constant security on the grounds, she should be okay.

Shouldn’t she?

Jenna reentered the room carrying a cordless handset, her expression still full of concern. She handed Rachel the phone. “It’s Margo calling from Kentucky. She wanted an update on the arson. You should tell her what you just told me.”

Rachel accepted the phone, then repeated the day’s events to her other best friend. When they’d talked at length, with Margo apologizing profusely for not being able to be with her, Rachel thanked her, said a warm goodbye and broke the connection.

Jenna had given her some space while she spoke on the phone. Now she walked slowly back to the sofa they’d been sharing and sat down. Something was on her mind.

“What?” Rachel asked.

“I was just thinking about the three of us—the way our lives have gone. What is it about us that invites
trouble? Margo was threatened by a serial killer, I was … hurt. And now you’re dealing with this horror.”

Rachel shook her head. She had no answers. In His mercy, God had seen that Margo and Jenna survived. She could only hope that He would watch over her, as well.

“I can’t stay here indefinitely, Jen,” she said, finally addressing Jenna’s offer. “I have to take control of my life. This—” She drew a breath, felt prickles of fear again. “This thug who wants to hurt me could be a very patient man. I can’t hide out forever. I’m moving back to the campground tomorrow.”

The night-light shone dimly in the near dark of Rachel’s upstairs room, and from outside a balmy breeze floated through the window, billowing the sheer curtains beneath the drapes. Unlike the first-floor windows, the Blackberry’s second-floor panes were free from the added mesh barriers Jenna had installed when she bought the B & B from her great-aunt.

Rachel got out of bed, walked around her packed bag, then crossed to the window. She looked out on the sleeping town. Fear could be a debilitating thing, but she didn’t want to be so afraid to die that she was afraid to live. She couldn’t do that. No matter how concerned her mother had been on the phone tonight. Then again, she hadn’t given her mom the entire story. She’d told her about the fire, skipped the part about arson, then, only later, brought up the body that had been uncovered. She’d prayed tonight that no one from Charity would call and fill in the blanks before she had a chance to. No parent needed to hear that her only child could be
in mortal danger over the telephone. That news had to come face-to-face.

“What do you think, God?” she asked quietly. “Am I being an idiot for staying when so many people want me to leave?”

The extension in her room rang, and she had to smile a little, wondering if she was about to get His answer firsthand. Crossing to the Queen Anne nightstand, she picked up the phone. The alarm clock beside it said it was nine-forty-three.

It wasn’t God. It was Jake.

His deep voice burred against her ear. “I hope it’s not too late to call.”

“No, I was awake. Thinking.”

“Again—not surprised.” He paused, seeming to search for conversation. “The staties were at your putt-putt site for a long time tonight.”

“Are they really looking for more bodies?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t bring in dogs or radar. I think they were just looking for areas that might have been disturbed recently. But I didn’t call to talk about forensics.”

Rachel waited through his pause.

“I hope I didn’t make things too uncomfortable for you today when your mother-in-law was there. I think she got the wrong idea about us.”

If she had an ounce of courage in her body, she’d tell him that Clarissa had gotten the
right
idea. She’d seen the chemistry between them, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked if they were dating. “Clarissa drove back to Johnstown. She wanted to stay, but I told her I’d be okay.”

“Did you call your parents?”

“Yes, earlier this evening, then again a little while ago.”

“And?”

Rachel lowered herself to the bed. “I’m going to squeeze in a trip to Virginia. I didn’t tell my mom everything. I need to let her know about the bad stuff in person.”

“Good. When are you leaving?”

“As soon as the sun comes up. I told Jenna that I was moving back to the campground tomorrow, but now … I have to take care of my family first.”

“Stay there,” he said. “Stay in Williamsburg until this is resolved.”

“I can’t.”

He expelled a weary blast of air. “Okay. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to make a few changes at your camp store if you’re determined to live there.”

“What kind of changes?”

“Nothing you’ll object to. Just be careful on the roads and call me when you get to your parents’ home.”

“I will,” she replied.

“Good night, then.”

“Good night. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Rachel hung up, then slipped beneath the covers again, wondering what he’d be doing while she was away. He and his protective streak would get a well-deserved break with her out of the picture. And that would free him up to do other things. See other people.

She sent a tentative glance at the phone, hesitated, then reached over to click on the antique lamp on the nightstand and pull the phone book from the drawer. After searching the yellow pages for hotel and motel
listings, she eased back against her stacked pillows to stare at the ad for the Tall Spruce Travel Lodge. They had all the fancy extras. Air-conditioned units, satellite TV, Wi-Fi, a workout room, pool and spa and a free hot breakfast. Committing the number to memory, she returned the phone book to the drawer.

Eventually, she shook her head, told herself to grow up and turned off the lamp. She was a mature adult. She wasn’t a jealous teenager who longed to see if the competition was still in town.

That emotional ache in Rachel’s chest came back, and she rolled over and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come.

She knew about love. It lasted. It lived in the heart and moved through the veins like a warm elixir. But she didn’t believe that love automatically ended with betrayal, no matter how painful the breakup. People continued to hurt because they continued to love.

She couldn’t imagine Jake feeling any differently.

Her parents’ Williamsburg home was a white colonial two-story with white columns and black trim, and it was situated in a lovely neighborhood where huge azalea and rhododendron bushes were in full bloom. Her pretty mom was through the front door and down the steps to greet her as soon as Rachel drove in. Annie Morgan’s smile and outstretched arms looked so warm and welcoming that Rachel couldn’t wait to fill them.

“I’m so sorry about the house,” her mom murmured, tears in her eyes now. “Are you okay at Jenna’s?”

“No, I’m better than okay.” Rachel stepped back to admire her mother. Lord willing, this was how she’d look at sixty. Annie Foster Morgan’s sable hair was
sprinkled lightly with gray now, and her green eyes were a shade lighter than Rachel’s. But their resemblance was striking. The only thing Rachel hadn’t inherited from her mom was her classic sense of style. Today she wore pale green linen trousers and a darker green three-quarter-sleeve sweater with tiny roses circling the scooped neckline.

“You’re sure?” Annie said.

“I’m sure. Jenna’s been terrific. Everyone has. This morning before I left, Reverend Landers’s wife came by to see if there was anything more the church could do for me. I have good friends, Mom.”

“Thank God for that.” Slipping an arm around Rachel’s waist, she walked her toward the house, a slight sadness in her smile. “Leave your bags in the car for now, okay? Your dad’s anxious to talk to you. He’ll feel better seeing for himself that you weren’t hurt.”

Rachel nodded. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was make her dad anxious. “He has nothing to worry about,” she replied in as light a tone as she could muster. “Fires happen, and people rebuild. I’m not jumping for joy over it, but I’m tough—like you.” She gave her mom another big hug. “Now let’s go inside so I can give Dad one of these, too.”

They were almost to the door when the cell phone in the pocket of Rachel’s borrowed pink jacket chimed out a melody, and excusing herself, she checked the number. A breathy feeling of expectation filled her chest.