Dangerous Inheritance (2 page)

“That depends,” Sam said, sounding reluctant. “Where are you going?”

“To a motel, I guess. If there’s one in town that still has lights.”

“There’s a good one on the highway, and the outage is just on this side of town. It’ll probably be off for several hours. Nick’ll show you how to find the motel, and I want to have a talk with you in the morning.”

Macy shook her head. “I have a nine o’clock appointment with Raleigh Benson, my grandmother’s lawyer.”

“Make it eight, then. Nick will give you directions.” He turned and walked away. A handful of raindrops splattered around them and Nick motioned toward her car.

“We’d better get. It’s going to start pouring in a few minutes. I’m parked just around the corner. Follow me, and I’ll show you the way to the motel.”

“First I have to lock the house.”

They hurried back to the porch and he waited while she climbed the steps, checked the light switch and locked the door before jogging over to their separate cars.

Nick walked around the corner to his car and drove back to the driveway, pulling in front of Macy to lead the way. He watched in his rearview mirror, making sure she followed him. She hadn’t been all that cooperative, and he wouldn’t put it past her to speed off in the other direction.

Of course, the way he’d surprised her might have something to do with how she’d acted. The minute he’d felt the softness of her shoulders, seen the glimmer of that long hair flashing across her face, he knew he’d messed up. Even in the pale glow of the streetlight, that copper-colored hair held a fire of its own. A man could warm his hands by it.

Since she was from out of town the possibilities of her being their mystery burglar were practically nonexistent. But why didn’t she remember living here? After all, she’d spent a few years in this house. She should remember something. But what was she doing here, alone, at this time of night? Her explanation had been lame, to put it mildly. And what was she doing inside the house?

Macy Douglas still had some explaining to do.

Macy followed him into the parking lot of a Motel 6, the windshield wipers slapping at a barrage of raindrops. Nick got out and hurried toward her car, shoulders hunched and head ducked against the wind. She rolled down the window and he stuck his head inside, the rain pelting his shoulders.

She stared at him, looking startled as their eyes met—and held. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. A reaction he hadn’t expected and definitely didn’t want. Macy leaned back as if trying to put a little distance between them. Maybe he needed to try that, too. Regardless of how lovely she was, he didn’t need any more complications in his life.

She seemed almost as surprised as he was. After a split-second hesitation, he said, “You’ll be all right here. I’ll drop by in the morning and show you the way to the police station. Be ready about seven thirty and we’ll pick up a bite to eat first. There’s a restaurant in town that puts out a good breakfast.”

“That will be fine, I guess,” she muttered.

He nodded and stepped back. “I’ll go with you to check in and get your room number.”

They hurried toward the office, Nick striding along with her. She probably didn’t want to check in with a policeman standing beside her. He could understand that. It wasn’t the best way to make a good impression.

The motel clerk eyed them curiously, but he assigned her a room and handed her a key. Nick lifted her suitcase out of the car. A curtain of rain danced on the pavement and bounced off the motel roof, soaking them both. She unlocked the door and turned to face him. Crystal raindrops glistened in her hair, and those sea-green eyes fringed with thick dark lashes seemed to warm for a moment.

She smiled suddenly and his heartbeat kicked up another notch. “Thank you for showing me the way to the motel. I’d probably still be driving around, lost in a strange town. Now you’d better get in out of the rain.”

He nodded and handed her a card. “You need anything, call me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He noticed she watched him run back to his patrol car before going inside and locking the door.

Nick drove away from the motel thinking about Macy Douglas. The sudden flare of attraction he’d felt that moment in the motel parking lot had surprised him, but he couldn’t deny there had been a spark between them. The way she had stood up to him and to Sam, not giving an inch, was impressive. He’d give her one thing, she was a fighter. And she had the kind of beauty that would be hard for any man to resist.

He’d known her grandmother Lassiter, and everyone in town knew about the brutal murder of Opal’s daughter, Megan Douglas, and that Steve, Megan’s husband, had been convicted of killing her and had died in prison. It was part of the town’s history. A part most of them would just as soon forget.

He drew up to a stoplight, his thoughts still on Macy. Opal had led a quiet life, not getting involved in community affairs, but he had a hunch her granddaughter would be different. Yet he sensed vulnerability behind that feisty behavior, as if she were afraid of something. Maybe he could find out more tomorrow at breakfast.

Nick hurried home to change into dry clothes and then drove to the police station. Sam greeted him as he entered. “You get the Douglas woman settled all right?”

“She’s at Motel 6. Or at least that’s where I left her. Why? What’s up?”

“I’m wondering why she came to town, and why now. She hasn’t been back since she was a kid, and I’ve got a hunch she’s up to something. You’re too young to remember what it was like when Megan Douglas was killed. She was well liked, went to church, owned and ran her own business. Steve was something else.”

“How so?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. “Steve had a favorite in the state senate race, and it wasn’t our Garth Nixon. Steve went all out, using his newspaper to influence the voters in this area. Pretty much divided the town—even divided the whole district. Cost Garth the election. I’d hate to see it all stirred up again. You never know how people will react, and if she’s anything like her dad, things could get out of hand.”

“What does that have to do with his wife’s death?”

“The police chief was Garth’s cousin. When Steve was arrested, some people figured it was payback time, like maybe the police didn’t try hard enough to find the real killer.”

Nick stared at Sam, thinking about what he had just said. The police had been accused of playing dirty? His father had been a cop back then. No way would his dad have been a part of anything like that—not the man he remembered and had looked up to. “You can’t be serious. My dad was an honest cop. He’d have quit before he stood by and let someone pull something wrong. You know better than that.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m guessing there could have been some dirty work going on. There’s always that possibility. And no, I don’t think your dad would have taken part, but he might not have known about it. I don’t know all that much about what went on, and at the time it wasn’t any of my business, so I really didn’t care all that much.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “That was what, twelve or thirteen years ago?”

“More like seventeen, I believe. Macy was just a kid. He knocked her out, almost killed her. And that was another problem. Regardless of Steve’s politics, a lot of people had trouble believing he’d kill his wife or hurt his own kid. He was crazy about that girl.”

Nick remembered the way Macy Douglas had stared at the old house. Something had brought her to Walnut Grove and he had a feeling it was rooted in the past.

“If he was innocent, that means there might still be a killer out there who doesn’t want to get caught.”

TWO

M
orning light filtered through the blinds as Macy glanced around the motel room. This wasn’t turning out to be a great day. First she needed to get through the meeting with Sam Halston. Then she had the meeting with the lawyer, another thing she wasn’t looking forward to. According to him, her grandmother Lassiter had been dead for several months, but he’d had to close out the estate and then it took a while to locate her. And then after seeing the lawyer she would move into her grandmother’s house. She had no idea what she was getting into, but there were only two options: carry this through or turn tail and run.

She had no place to run.

When Grandma Mattie had been battling the cancer that had finally killed her, Macy had to take several days off work at Wesley Manufacturing, which hadn’t sat well with her supervisor, Lena Hankins, a cold, play-it-by-the-book woman who didn’t believe in second chances. Then when she had needed a few days to get her grandmother’s affairs in order Lena had given her a choice: forget it or quit.

Fresh from the funeral and still wounded by losing the only family member she had left, Macy had walked out. So here she was, no job, no family, no one who cared. She’d listed Grandma Mattie’s house for sale, but so far, no takers.

And eating breakfast with Nick Baldwin seemed way too intimate. What had she been thinking? A knock on the door sent her hurrying to open it. Nick stood there in his police uniform, the rising sun dusting his shoulders with gold. His smile was warm and welcoming. At this stage in her life, warm and welcoming was good. He was also six feet or more of muscle and charm. A deadly combination.

His dark hair was combed back, not rumpled as it had been in last night’s storm, and his golden-brown eyes were friendly as he stepped back to let her walk past. She accidently brushed against him, and quickly moved on, more aware of him than she liked. What was it about Nick Baldwin that affected her this way?

He smiled and her pulse rate accelerated. “I guess we’d better go in separate cars since you have an appointment with your lawyer right after you talk to Sam.”

The flare of disappointment caught her by surprise. After all, it wasn’t as if she wanted to spend more time with him—or did she?

And her lawyer? She’d never met Raleigh Benson. Would he be friendly to the granddaughter who had never seen or talked to Opal Lassiter, her maternal grandmother, in the past seventeen years? Or would he be one of the enemies her grandmother Douglas had warned her about in the letter Macy had found after her death?

Macy closed the door and locked it behind her, and they walked through the parking area. The April air smelled fresh and clean after the rain. A sprinkling of new leaves brightened the tall oaks, and sturdy green shoots of jonquils held a promise of golden blooms to come. Nick waved from his car and she followed, finding it hard to believe that she was actually looking forward to having breakfast with him.

Last night she had been ready to deck him. Had her feelings toward him changed that fast? Grandma Mattie had believed the police in Walnut Grove were corrupt. What about Nick? Could she trust him, or beneath that friendliness was he really her enemy?

She drove into the restaurant lot and found a spot to park close to his car. He stood beside it waiting for her. Today he bore little resemblance to the hard, suspicious policeman he’d been last night. Tall, broad shoulders filling his uniform, he had the kind of rugged good looks she liked in a man. His grin lit up his face.

Her lips moved in an answering smile that was a little more spontaneous than she intended. She jerked herself up short, clamping down on her emotions. No matter how good-looking Nick Baldwin was, the last thing she needed was to get involved with a policeman. At least not until she learned more about this town...and Nick.

* * *

Nick held the restaurant door open for Macy, noticing the way the sun struck glowing bronze highlights in her hair. She was even more beautiful than he’d realized, and she wasn’t angry or nervous the way she’d been last night. Maybe it had just been stress from driving in an unfamiliar place after dark with a storm threatening, and then being harassed by a stranger.

He reached for a menu, wondering why she was here. He didn’t know anything about this woman, but for some reason he was interested in her, and it had nothing to do with the way she looked, or that vulnerable expression she wore some of the time. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe.

As a matter of fact, he really couldn’t explain why he spent so much time thinking about her. Maybe he should back off a little until he found out more about what was going on. He needed to remain professional, concentrate on her reason for being here, instead of thinking of her as a woman who needed his help.

The waitress took their order: eggs and sausage for him, cheese omelet and a cup of peach yogurt for her. Nick smiled in approval. He liked a woman with a good appetite. He leaned back and studied Macy. She had the same copper-colored hair and green eyes as her deceased mother, judging from the pictures he’d found of Megan Douglas in his research last night on the internet. There hadn’t been much, just a couple of articles about the trial. Not a lot of help.

But regardless of how good she looked, he couldn’t let those sea-green eyes and that dusting of freckles across her nose distract him from the job at hand—learning why Macy Douglas was in Walnut Grove and what she hoped to accomplish. He didn’t believe she just decided all at once to visit. Something had brought her here, and he wanted to know what. He had a personal interest in this now since his father might have had a hand in sending her dad to prison.

Before he could speak, she put down her fork and gave him a straight look. “Tell me the truth—how did you manage to get to that house so fast last night? I’d only been there for a few minutes before you grabbed me. And why were you parked around the corner instead of in the driveway?”

So all right, maybe she wasn’t as calm as she appeared to be, and apparently she hadn’t forgiven him for his part in what had happened. He searched for the right words. Until he knew why she was here, he wasn’t about to discuss police business with her.

“Like I said, I got a call that you’d pulled into the drive and I was nearby. I drove past just as you stopped. Since I didn’t know who you were or why you were there, I just went around the block and parked, then walked the rest of the way.”