Bluegrass Peril (9 page)

S
cott pulled the truck into the Pasture’s driveway. He parked, then threw back his head and gave in to a jaw-stretching yawn. He’d always been an early bird, but five o’clock on Sunday morning was stretching the point, even for him.

Somebody had to feed the horses, though, and they needed their morning medication. Life on the farm didn’t stop just because it was the Lord’s day.

“And somebody has to feed the dog, too, huh, fella?”

Sam lifted his head off the bench seat, and his tail thumped sluggishly. Even the dog thought five o’clock was too early. He’d follow Scott around on his morning chores, and then probably take a snooze in the barn while Scott attended church.

He got out of the truck and clutched his jacket together as a cold predawn wind whipped it open. He ducked his head to shield his neck with his collar and trotted toward the house with Sam on his heels.

He twisted the handle on the storm door, fumbling with his keys. Gripping the correct one, he extended it toward the inside door—

And stopped.

The inside door stood open. He stared at it, thoughts spinning. Did Becky close it yesterday? Yes, he remembered standing by the truck, waiting for Jamie to run inside and grab his backpack. When the boy ran out, Becky pulled it closed and locked it with her key. He didn’t open the house at all last night when he came back to the Pasture, just the barn.

He stepped forward through the door to get a look at the handle. Yeah, it was scarred and bent. Somebody jimmied the lock.

What could they hope to steal from the office of a nonprofit organization like the Pasture?

Whatever they were after, they’d ransacked the place. The front room was a wreck. The couch cushions had been slashed open, as was the pathetic old armchair in the corner. The brochure rack had been thrown to the floor and the contents scattered everywhere. Odd, though. The television and DVD player were still in place. Not a random burglary, then. From where he stood he could just see a corner of the office, the floor littered with papers. All Becky’s work organizing the contents of Haldeman’s desk, wasted.

Sam pushed past him and headed for the kitchen.

“Sam, come.”

The dog reluctantly returned. They stepped outside, and Scott unclipped his cell phone to call the police.

The hallways of Grace Community Church were filled with Sunday morning worshippers. Becky kept her voice pitched low as she glanced over Amber’s shoulder to be sure no one overheard. “And after lunch, he spent a couple of hours at the park with us.” A steady stream of people filed past them through the busy church hallway on their way to the sanctuary.

She felt like a teenager giggling over a guy with her friend, but a girl needed someone to bounce things off. After Scott insisted on buying their lunch at McDonald’s, she’d been going crazy trying to decide if it was just a friendly gesture on his part, or if she’d actually been on a date.

“How did the boys act around him?” With a hand on her arm, Amber moved her against the wall to let a group of green-robed choir members pass. “Did they seem jealous?”

“Not at all. Except of each other. They both kept trying to monopolize Scott’s attention.” A smile curved Becky’s lips as she remembered Jamie parading each of his men out for a personal introduction to Scott. “They obviously liked him a lot.”

Amber frowned. “That’s not good.”

“It’s not?”

“You don’t want them to appear desperate for male attention. That will drive him away as quickly as a clingy woman.”

Becky hadn’t thought of that. Amber’s logic made sense, though. Neediness in any form was a guaranteed man repellent.

“I don’t see what I can do about that.” The crowd thinned to a few stragglers, and they headed slowly for the sanctuary doors as the first strains of the organ prelude reverberated through the church. “They are desperate for male attention, poor things.”

Amber drummed her fingers on her Bible as they walked. “The next thing to do is get him alone. Let him see that you’re a self-assured woman, totally at peace with yourself and your singleness.” She peered sideways at Becky. “You can do that, can’t you?”

At peace with her singleness? Until a few days ago Becky would have answered, “Absolutely!” But since Scott took over at the Pasture, her decision to remain single after her divorce five years ago was wavering.

Becky met her friend’s gaze with a hesitant grimace. “Maybe.”

Amber’s eyebrows shot upward, but her whispered response was drowned out by the organ’s chords. As they entered the sanctuary they passed the acolyte, a cherub-faced girl in white who stood like a statue, holding the candlelighter for an usher’s match. Becky followed Amber down the center aisle to slip into a half-empty pew on the left.

Becky placed her purse beside her feet and settled onto the hard pew. She leaned over and whispered in Amber’s ear. “Where’s Jeff? I thought he’d be saving us a seat.”

“He got called in to work this morning. A robbery or something.”

Becky nodded, then faced the front of the sanctuary. Something else she’d spent a considerable amount of time considering last night was whether or not to tell Jeff this morning about Isabelle Keller. The decision to report Kaci Buchanan had been a no-brainer. No matter what Scott said, Kaci’s visit to the Pasture for that earring looked suspicious.

The choir filed into the loft from a door to the right of the baptistry. A sudden swell of the organ’s music indicated the end of the prelude. Beside her, Amber picked up two hymnals from the pew in front of them and handed one to Becky with a smile. Becky nodded her thanks and flipped the book open, her thoughts far from the morning’s worship service.

Isabelle’s visit, on the other hand, was a perfectly natural move for a grief-stricken woman. Nothing at all of interest for the police.

Even so, she felt a flood of relief at Jeff’s absence this morning.

Scott shifted on the seat cushion as the screen behind Pastor Greg’s head changed to display his third and, hopefully, final sermon point. The man next to him glanced his way, and Scott flashed an apologetic smile. He couldn’t force himself to concentrate on the message this morning, but at least he could sit quietly so he didn’t distract others.

He should probably have stayed at the Pasture while the police combed through the house. But he’d answered all their questions as best he could, then they shooed him away. After the horses had been fed and doctored, there wasn’t much for him to do except stand around in the barn and watch the stream of police officers going in and out of the house. When Trooper Whitley told him he might as well go home, he’d jumped at the chance to leave. A good worship service was just what he needed today.

Unfortunately, the praise music had failed to direct his attention where it should be, to the Lord. And Pastor Greg might as well have been chanting in Latin for all Scott was getting out of his sermon.

What could a thief have been after? The only thing he’d noticed missing for sure was the petty cash box, but Becky kept less than fifty dollars in there. Of course, a thief wouldn’t necessarily know that. Whitley and Detective Foster refused to talk about it, but another officer mentioned the possibility that a burglar had read of Haldeman’s death in the newspaper and knew the house would be empty. That made sense, but a shadowy doubt niggled at Scott. Why hadn’t the television and DVD player been taken? There was more to this than the cops were admitting.

The break-in wasn’t the only thing on Scott’s mind this morning. Despite his determination not to fidget he shifted on the seat again, drawing another glance from his neighbor.

Why did he offer to take Becky and the boys out to lunch yesterday? He’d been set for a solitary afternoon in the office, going through Haldeman’s records to see if he could discover the extent of the man’s gambling debt. Instead, he ended up throwing stale crackers to a flock of fat ducks and teaching kids to hand-walk across the monkey bars.

He smiled, remembering Tyler’s victory dance when he made it all the way to the other side unassisted. Jamie, the less athletic of the two, couldn’t manage to get past five rungs before dropping to the ground. But he had an incredible mind for detail, and his face came alive as he told the stories behind about forty of those toys he carried around in his backpack.

Becky had done a great job raising those two, if Scott was any judge. Sure, they argued a lot, and occasionally even got physical with each other. But she was quick to step in, and he could see they respected her.

He crossed his right leg over his left, shifting away from the man beside him. He’d enjoyed the afternoon more than he expected. Especially Becky. She wasn’t one of those women who watched from the sidelines. No, she got right in there and tried to cross the monkey bars, too. She didn’t make it even as far as Jamie, but she faced her failure with a laugh and good grace.

It couldn’t be easy raising two boys alone. She spoke of her father living out in California, and said she didn’t have any other relatives close by. She never mentioned her ex-husband, but according to Trooper Whitley, he left when the boys were babies.

Thoughts of Becky’s ex conjured up another memory, one he’d prefer to forget. Megan, her face streaked with tears, begging him to understand why she was returning to her ex-husband, to her marriage. A wave of the familiar pain threatened to latch on to him again, but he fought against it, crossing his arms over his chest. She’d sworn the marriage was over, that it had ended long before the divorce made it final.

She’d lied.

Movement at the front of the room interrupted Scott’s thoughts. The worship team stepped into position to play the final song as Pastor Greg invited the congregation to join him in a closing prayer. Scott uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. But though he bowed his head and closed his eyes, his thoughts refused to follow the pastor’s words. His own turmoil tumbled out in a private prayer.

Lord, I know I swore I’d never again get involved with a divorced woman.

That oath was two years old, and he had remained true to his vow. In fact, the desire to date anyone seemed to have left along with Megan. The pain of his broken heart lingered. He wasn’t about to risk another disaster. Every time he considered asking a woman out, that ache in his heart made it easy to walk away.

Until yesterday.

Lord, Becky is different. She’s alone, like I am. So if You—

Music cut into his private prayer. The pastor must have said Amen, but he didn’t hear it. Scott scrambled to his feet along with the rest of the congregation and returned the smile of an older woman across the aisle. Words to one of his favorite praise choruses projected onto the screen. He closed his eyes and added his voice to those of his fellow worshippers.

As he reached out with his heart and his hands toward his heavenly Father, peace washed over him. He wasn’t alone in this. When the time was right, he’d know whether Becky was the one God had picked out for him or not.

B
ecky fought against a sudden attack of nerves as she pulled into the driveway for work Monday morning. Amber’s words echoed in her mind.
Let him see that you’re a self-assured woman, at peace with your singleness.
At the moment she felt neither self-assured nor at peace. In fact, the fluttering in her stomach made her want to throw up.

She caught sight of Scott inside the barn, standing at the workbench with his back toward her. When she cut the engine, music from his radio seeped through the shut windows of her car. The volume must be high enough that he didn’t hear her arrive. Clutching the steering wheel with both hands, she closed her eyes and spent a moment bolstering her nerve.

There’s nothing needy about me. I’m self-assured. At peace with my singleness.

And she really should be, too. This thing with Scott would probably lead to nothing, and that was best. It was absolutely nuts to become romantically involved with the boss. Everybody knew that. If it didn’t work out, she’d be the one looking for a job, not him.

But he certainly was easy to be with. And he seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with the boys Saturday. Most single men ran screaming at the mention of one child, but two? And twins? She couldn’t forget that the whole outing had been Scott’s idea, not hers.

Regardless, she couldn’t sit in the car all day. If he turned around and saw her staring at him, he wouldn’t think she was needy. He’d think she was strange.

Gathering her purse and lunch bag from the passenger seat, she opened the car door and stood. Sam bounded out of the barn, tail flapping like a flag in a tornado.

“Good morning,” she shouted toward the barn as she stooped to greet the dog.

Scott whirled, his face lighting with a smile that brought a warm flush to hers. “Hey, Becky. I didn’t hear you.” He leaned across the workbench to flip the radio off, then came toward her, wiping his hands on a dirty rag that probably did more harm than good. “How was your Sunday?”

“Good. Relaxing.” She hefted her purse strap onto her shoulder. “Yours?”

His lips twisted sideways for a moment before he answered. “Interesting. We had a little excitement here yesterday.”

“Oh?” She looked out across the paddocks and their peacefully grazing occupants. Everything appeared to be normal.

“Yeah. I almost called you at home, but the police didn’t think it was necessary.”

“The police?” Her eyes widened. “No one else has been hurt, have they?”

He shook his head. “Nothing like that. The office was broken into Saturday night.”

“Oh, no! What did they take?”

“The petty cash box is about all I could see. The place is pretty much a shambles, though. They went through both desks, dumped everything out. I tried to clean up yesterday afternoon.” He ducked his head. “It’s still a mess, I’m afraid.”

Becky’s hand flew to her collarbone. A thief went through her desk? She mentally reviewed the contents. Thank goodness she didn’t keep anything of any personal value in there. Still, to have someone going through her desk left her feeling violated.

“The checkbook!” She put a hand on his arm. “Oh, Scott, I keep the Pasture’s checkbook and bank statements in my desk.”

“They were still there.” He covered her hand with his warm one, and she tried to ignore the thrill that shot up her arm. “I found all that stuff on the floor. But I still think we need to contact the bank this morning, tell them what’s happened and maybe even close the account. Just in case they got the account number.”

She shot him a quick smile and pulled her hand away. “I’ll do that.”

“Thanks. I started trying to put things back in folders, but I couldn’t figure out what went where.” He grimaced. “I just piled everything on your desk for you to sort out.”

She couldn’t help laughing at the chagrin on his face, and her nerves steadied a little. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of things in there.” She pulled a face. “I suppose there’s fingerprint powder all over the place again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She heaved a sigh. “Great. I’m going to need a new bottle of cleaner soon.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his back pocket. “Before all this happened I made a list of things we need to do this week. Some meds and other supplies are running low, and I’d like to get Doc Matthews out here to take a look at Kiri’s Kousin. There are a couple of lesions on his flank region that I hope aren’t ringworm.”

He was suddenly all business. Her gaze dropped to the paper he thrust toward her. Was he going to completely ignore Saturday? A flicker of disappointment threatened to melt her smile. Okay, she could do that.

She started toward the house, nodding. “I’ll give him a call as soon as his office opens. Anything else?”

“Remember those tally sheets of Haldeman’s?”

She stopped and turned. Those were part of what she’d hoped to get organized and filed away on Saturday, before her day was preempted. “Of course.”

“After you get everything figured out in there, could you look through them and give me a list of all the initials you see, along with anything that looks like a dollar amount?”

“You mean like the one we found for EJ?”

Scott’s expression was grim. “Yeah. Like that one.”

She studied him closely. “If you think those tally sheets had anything to do with Neal’s death or with this break-in, we should turn them over to the police.”

His grin disarmed her. “I doubt if they do. I’m just curious how much he might have been down, all told. If it’s only a few dollars, the police won’t care.”

Becky certainly didn’t think thirty-seven thousand, five hundred would be considered “a few dollars.” In her world, twenty dollars at the end of the month seemed like a fortune.

“Sure, I’ll do that first thing.” She turned back toward the house, Sam at her side.

“Thanks. Oh, and Becky?”

She looked at him over her shoulder.

“Jamie and Tyler are great kids. I had a good time Saturday.”

Her heart suddenly light, she returned his smile. “Thanks. We did, too.”

Drawing on every ounce of poise she possessed, she headed into the house without looking back. Her step was light enough that the boys would have accused her of skipping. A few seconds later, she heard the heels of his boots striking the driveway as he returned to the barn.

Sam scooted inside when she opened the door, and ran ahead of her through the sitting room. Becky followed, steadfastly ignoring the mess. Scott said he cleaned up in here? The place must have been a disaster. The sofa had been gutted, the side chair was missing and the rack in the corner tilted awkwardly to one side. It was empty, too, which meant she’d have to print more pamphlets.

She thrust that thought away. All in good time. She’d need to clean up the office before worrying about the front room.

As she stepped into the kitchen, music from Scott’s radio reached her ears. She smiled, picturing her handsome boss working in the barn.

“He had a good time, Sam.” She roughed the yellow fur on the dog’s neck, then practically danced over to the corner where his bowls were kept. “He said my boys are great kids.”

Sam followed close on her heels, his gaze fixed on her hands as she picked up his water bowl, emptied it and filled it with fresh water for the day. When she set it down, he ignored it. He was more interested in food first thing in the morning.

“Of course, just because he had a good time once doesn’t mean anything.” She picked up the empty food bowl. Sam’s ears perked forward. “A couple of hours at the park with the kids is one thing. An actual date with their mother is entirely different.”

That sobering truth dampened her mood and slowed her step as she crossed the kitchen to the pantry, where the giant fifty-five-pound bag of dog food was stored. The door handle was covered in black fingerprint dust, as was every surface in the room. Her lips tightened as she used a paper towel to twist it open. She tugged at the open top of the bag, tilting it toward her so she could scoop out Sam’s breakfast.

“We’re going to have to add dog food to that list of things Scott said we need, aren’t we, Sammy Boy?”

She reached way down into the bag and grabbed the handle of the cup she kept stored inside. When she scooped the cup into the chunks of food, it struck something hard near the bottom.

Odd. She tapped the cup on whatever it was a couple of times, then grasped the edge of the thing. The object was square and solid, but a crinkling sound told her it was wrapped in plastic. She slipped her fingers beneath it and lifted it out.

A plastic sack from the grocery store in town where Neal shopped. Strange. A peek inside told her the block-shaped object was wrapped in a second sack.

The hair on her arms prickled. Neal had buried something in the dog food. Was this what the burglar was after? Or maybe it held a clue as to the identity of his killer. She carried the package over to the kitchen table and set it on the scarred Formica surface. She wouldn’t open it, but a quick look couldn’t hurt, could it? Peeling away the layers of filmy white plastic, she glimpsed a rectangular object. Another thick layer of plastic surrounded it, this one secured with wide strips of masking tape. But this plastic was clear.

Becky sank into the seat, her thoughts whirling at the sight of the item in the bag.

A gigantic stack of hundred dollar bills.