Fatal Inheritance (3 page)

She had sat for hours on the backseat with her notepad and pen as Gramps tinkered with something or the other and recounted adventures he’d had driving the car as a boy. She whirled toward Josh. “We can’t let it be stolen!”

“I don’t intend to.”

His confident tone quelled her alarm. Embarrassed she’d let it get the better of her, she gave him a lopsided smile. “Would you show me how it works, too?”

“Be happy to. First, I’ll need to figure out what’s wrong with it. Your gramps and I never did get it running reliably again. I’ll take a look at it this afternoon, after I get those cameras up. If I can get it working, we can take it out after church tomorrow, if you like.”

Becki gave him an impulsive hug. “Thank you!”

Josh folded his arms around her. “My pleasure, Bec.”

The tender sound of his pet name for her momentarily stayed her instinct to pull back. Since learning of her grandparents’ deaths, she’d felt so alone. Josh was the only one to comfort her who really cared.

“Maybe you and I could work on it together, like your gramps did with me after my dad died.”

Reluctantly, she eased her arms from around him, questioning the wisdom of jumping at reasons to spend
more
time with him. But one look at his red-rimmed eyes and she squeezed her own shut and laid her head against his chest. “You miss them as much as I do.”

He rested his cheek against her hair. “Yes, I do.”

Remembering the secret Anne had shared about how Josh blamed himself for her grandparents’ deaths, Becki hugged him harder.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawled from the direction of the door. “Settling right in, I see.”

Becki sprang from Josh’s arms. Smoothed her hair. “Neil? What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need some help moving in.” His muddy-blond hair was moussed back, his shirt and pants perfectly pressed, his polished shoes not the least bit appropriate for traipsing across the overgrown yard. His gaze drifted up Josh’s full six feet and narrowed on his face. Neil pushed up his glasses with a single finger to the bridge. “But I see you’re covered.”

Was it her imagination or were the two of them puffing out their chests like rival birds fighting over a mate?

Yeah, right.
She let out a choked snort. Definitely her imagination.

“How did you find me? I mean...” She hadn’t given anyone from work her new address. The dusty barn air seemed to close in on her.

“Looked up the address on the internet. I remembered you mentioning your grandfather lived in Serenity.” Neil stepped closer, arm outstretched toward Josh. “Neil Orner.”

Josh gave Neil’s hand a swift shake. “Joshua Rayne.”

“Josh is my new neighbor and an old family friend,” Becki rushed to explain. “He was just comforting me over my loss.” She squirmed at how defensive that sounded. She didn’t owe Neil an explanation. They hadn’t dated for over three months. “Um, Neil is a colleague from work,” she said to Josh.

A muscle in Neil’s cheek ticked, but what did he expect her to say?

Josh hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t think Bec ever told me. Where is it you work?”

Neil inhaled, appearing to grow another half inch. “We work at Holton Industries.”

Josh’s jaw dropped a fraction, his eyes widening as he turned his attention back to her. “Industry?” He sounded skeptical. “I always figured you’d go into something to do with writing or graphic arts.”

He thought about her?

“You never went anywhere without a pad and paper.” A far-off look flickered in his eyes and a smile whispered across his lips as if he was picturing her as that tagalong girl again.

“That’s fine for a hobby,” Neil interjected. “But one can hardly make a living—”

“I don’t know. If you’re doing something you love, the rest seems to take care of itself.”

Becki’s chest swelled at Josh’s defense, but his quiet confidence didn’t seem to convince Neil. Of course, Josh had never needed much to be content, whereas Neil always wanted whatever seemed just out of reach. He’d admitted to being a bit of a runt growing up and seemed determined to put the ridicule behind him by latching onto the latest status symbols, which before they broke up had started to include an obsessive interest in her career decisions. That thought made her jittery all over again.

She closed the Cadillac’s door, willing steel into her backbone. “Well, with any luck I’ll find a job I love right here in Serenity.”

Josh rested his hand at her waist, and his touch calmed her instantly. He urged her toward the barn door. “No luck needed. We’ll pray you do.”

The confidence in Josh’s voice raised goose bumps on her arms. Stepping outside, she turned her face to the sun, wishing she could believe prayer would make a difference.

She once had. All those summers here, God had seemed so real. Even when He didn’t answer her prayer that she be allowed to stay with Gran and Gramps after the divorce, she’d clung to Gran’s assurances that God worked all things together for good. But how could any good come from letting Gran and Gramps die of carbon-monoxide poisoning?

Clearly, from the sour look on Neil’s face, he didn’t believe prayer would make a difference, either.

A cell phone rang, and both men reached for their hips.

“It’s mine,” Josh said. He glanced at the screen, then caught Becki’s gaze. “Excuse me a sec.” He stepped away from them, his phone to his ear.

“Why don’t I give you a hand with those boxes in your car?” Neil suggested.

“I can’t believe you came all the way out here.”

He shrugged. “What’s a three-hour drive to help a
friend?
”

She winced, certain his emphasis on
friend
was a dig to her “colleague” reference. “Last time we talked you told me I was crazy to want to move here.”

“Still think so. Figured I’d come see what the attraction was.” His gaze strayed to Josh, and he snorted. “I talked to Peters. He’s going to fill your job with a temp for a few months. Give you a chance to decide if this is really what you want.”

“I’ve already made my decision.” She fisted her hands. This was the kind of I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude that had made her break up with him in the first place. He was more controlling than her mother.

“Don’t be mad.” He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “You know you don’t belong here.”

She jerked away from his touch and stalked to her car.

“Rebecca.” He trailed after her. “I was just trying to help. Country living may not be as great as you remember.”

She opened the back door of her car, tugged out a box and plopped it into his arms. “I appreciate that. Really I do.” She grabbed another box and led the way to the front door. “But you shouldn’t have interfered.”

“You’re still mad at me because I didn’t make it to your grandparents’ funeral, aren’t you?”

“What? No!” She shifted her box onto one hip and shoved her key into the door lock. “I never expected you to.”

“I should have been there for you.” He covered her hand and turned the key, pushing open the door.

She snatched her hand back and plowed past him into the house. She set the box on the old deacon’s bench in the front hall, averse to inviting Neil any farther.

“Hey, no matter what else happens, we
are
friends. Right?”

She stared at him, a tad uneasy about what exactly that meant to him.

“Where do you want these?” Josh’s voice drifted through the door, wrapping around her ragged nerves like a soothing hug. He held a stack of boxes in his arms.

She rushed forward and grabbed the one teetering from the top. “The living room is fine. Thanks.”

“This, too?” Neil asked.

“No. It can stay here. Could you grab the boxes from the trunk next?”

The instant Neil went back outside, Josh stepped up behind her. “Do you mind if I do a quick walk-through? Make sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” Her words came out breathlessly. From the possibility that the prowler had been inside, she told herself,
not
from Josh’s proximity.

Becki hurried out after Neil, before he got too curious. One time she’d caught him peeking in her desk drawers while he waited for her to finish getting ready for a date. He’d said he’d been looking for scissors to clip off a loose thread, and maybe he had been, but he had no sense of boundaries. Clearly.

If he did, he wouldn’t be there.

It was one thing to stop by her desk and chat for a few minutes every day. It was entirely another to drive three hours to do it.

She’d appreciated that he had the self-confidence not to let their breakup ruin their working relationship. And okay, it had been really thoughtful of him to bring over supper and flowers from everyone at the office after she’d gotten word about her grandparents’ deaths and left work so suddenly.

But now that their professional relationship had ended, she really didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

“What does your neighbor do for a living?” Neil asked, passing her with an armload stacked even higher than Josh’s had been.

She grabbed the top two boxes. “He’s a police officer.”

Neil gave a start. “That’s handy.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you have any trouble.”

She pressed her lips closed, loath to admit she’d already had some. That was just the kind of thing Neil would latch onto to try to change her mind about moving here. He and her sister should start a club.

Josh met them at the door. He waited for Neil to pass by, then pulled her aside. “I need to go. They’ve found a submerged car in the old quarry and need a diver to check for...anything suspicious.”

She gasped, certain he’d been about to say
bodies.
“I didn’t realize you were a diver.”

“Trained in the military.” His eyes were shadowed. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Go.”

“There’s no sign your prowler got into the house, and I don’t think he’ll come around in daylight, especially with a couple of cars in the driveway. But if you see anything suspicious, don’t hesitate to call me. Okay?” He pressed a business card into her hand with a number scrawled on the back. “That’s my cell number.”

For some reason Josh’s protective concern didn’t feel so condescendingly suffocating as Neil’s always had. Maybe because the concern didn’t seem so irrational coming from a cop. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He lifted a hand to Neil, who’d stepped back into the foyer from wherever his curiosity had taken him while she’d been distracted by Josh. “Nice meeting you, Neil. See you around.”

Neil sidled up to her as she watched Josh jog across the driveway back to his house. “He sounds worried about you. Not on my account, I hope.”

She let out a puff of air—half cough, half snort. “Uh, no.”

“Then why?”

“It was a little unsettling being back here for the first time with Gran and Gramps gone,” she said evasively.

“I’d be happy to stick around for a while. Keep you company.”

“Actually, I’d rather be alone right now.” She tilted her head and added softly, “You understand?”

He clasped her upper arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course. Let me just grab the housewarming gift I brought you.”

She stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her waist, feeling like an ingrate, as he hurried to his flashy Mustang. He’d driven all this way to extend his help and friendship. The least she could do was offer him a cup of coffee before he left.

He opened his door and pulled out a hanging basket overflowing with fuchsia-colored dianthus. He strode toward her with a wide grin. “Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I remembered you telling me how your gran used to have them hanging from the beams of the wraparound porch.”

“You remembered that?” He’d never seemed to be listening.

“Of course.” He patted the rails. “It’s just like you described.” He reached over her head and looped the basket onto a hook in the beam. “There.”

“Would you like a glass of lemonade before you leave?” she blurted on impulse. Lemonade at least would be quicker than coffee. Gran always had a mix in the cupboard.

“That’s okay. I know you have a lot to do. I just wanted to make sure you got here all right. And let you know that if you change your mind about staying...”

“I won’t.”

His eyes flicked around the yard, to the fields surrounding the two houses and to the thick stand of trees beyond. “It doesn’t scare you to be out the back of nowhere? With next to no neighbors?”

“I won’t change my mind,” she said more adamantly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. I’m just saying if you did, no one would blame you. Not with who knows what kind of wild animals stalking those woods. Or creeps prowling for easy prey.”

THREE

J
osh shone his waterproof flashlight in, under and around the submerged car, fanned the search out another ten yards in every direction, then kicked to the surface. Hailing the officer in charge of the recovery, Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “It’s clear.”

“Good.” Walt passed Josh the tow cable. “Hook her up. Then check the rest of the pit.”

Josh reinserted his mouthpiece, then dived to the bottom with the cable and secured the towline to the car’s frame. It’d take him another hour at least to thoroughly search every corner of the former quarry. Most of it was under eight feet or less of water, but one of the guys had said it got as deep as forty in the northeast corner. He kicked out of the way of the vehicle and surfaced long enough to signal it was okay to start towing.

He didn’t want to spend any more time out here than he had to. He couldn’t get that Neil guy off his mind. Bec hadn’t seemed all that comfortable with him, and Neil clearly hadn’t been deterred.

Josh didn’t like how fidgety the guy had made her. Thanks to her prowler, she’d been jittery enough already. She didn’t need an unwelcome wannabe boyfriend insinuating himself into the situation. And any guy who traveled this far just to check up on her had to have been more than a colleague,
or wanted to be.

Josh clawed through the water, scoping every rock crevice. Had he been too quick to take Bec’s word that she was okay being left alone with Neil?

He was taking way too much interest in Bec’s affairs. A carp jutted from behind the rock ahead of Josh, stirring up a cloud of silt. He treaded in one spot, waiting for the water to clear. At least he’d had the decency to let a woman go without argument when she turned him down. Maybe he should have run a background check on Neil, made sure the guy wasn’t some sort of stalker.

He hadn’t missed Neil’s
You know you don’t belong here,
which sounded too much like the note that had been waiting for Bec in her mailbox when she’d arrived.

Josh dived back under, swimming faster than ever. Broken beer bottles littered the bottom of the pit. The area had been a popular hangout for teens for as long as he could remember. Surprising there wasn’t more graffiti on the rocks than the occasional heart framing lovers’ initials.

His thoughts slipped back to Bec, or more precisely the strange feeling that had come over him when she’d given him that impulsive hug. It reminded him of the time she’d thanked him for rescuing her from the tree she’d gotten herself stuck in as a kid. Only, when he’d folded his arms around her, it hadn’t felt the same at all. He probably should be relieved Neil had shown up when he had.

If she knew how he’d failed her grandparents, she wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. She was too vulnerable right now, between coping with her loss and starting over in a new town, a new job. Moving into the house. And now this prowler. Josh needed to focus on keeping her safe. Not on how wonderful it had felt to hold a woman in his arms.

He gave a hard kick and propelled himself into the deeper water. A woman in his arms... He knew better than to let his thoughts wander into that territory. He supposed helping his old high-school pal bring in his hay yesterday had started it.

His friend’s wife and young son had brought a picnic lunch to the field for them, the boy squealing with delight when Josh’s friend tickled his sides as the wife looked on with a contented expression.

It was the kind of life Josh had always longed for.

He sliced his arms through the water, relying more heavily on the narrow beam of his flashlight as he pushed deeper. The same as he’d learned to do with God. The Lord had blessed him with a country home, a good job and plenty of friends, and had even brought his sister back to Serenity.

Wishing for more only led to a whole well of hurt.

Neil, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be getting that message.

The vibration of the winding tow cable rippled through the water.

Josh beefed up his strokes. The sooner he covered the search area, the sooner he could get home.

A shadow fell over the water ahead of him. Glancing up, he spotted a signal buoy. He kicked to the surface.

“Over here,” Walt shouted from a new position onshore.

Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to let you know if your cell phone rang.”

His pulse jerked.
Bec?
“What’s the caller ID?”

“Hunter Madison.”

Josh’s heart settled back into a steady rhythm. “Okay, let it go to voice mail. I’ll call him when I’m finished.” Hunter probably just wanted to check on where to put the cameras.

Josh dived back under and swept his light in widening arcs. The fish had gone into hiding. Hopefully, Bec’s prowler wouldn’t do the same. The last thing Bec needed was weeks of worrying if and when the intruder would show up again.

He winged a prayer skyward that God would help him catch the guy quickly.

The water was crystal clear, tinted a nice aquamarine, thanks to the limestone. Maybe he’d bring Bec here sometime with the dog. She might get a kick out of hunting for fossils in the rocks. It’d help take her mind off her troubles for a while. That and going out in her grandfather’s old Cadillac.

Her eyes had lit up at the prospect, and he couldn’t deny he was more than happy to fulfill that particular wish.

Overhead, the water grew choppy from the car breaking the surface.

Josh waited for the tow truck to haul the car out onto the flat rock overlooking the mini-lake and then did a final sweep of the area, his thoughts already back at the farm.

Finding nothing, he kicked to the surface and climbed out.

Walt handed him a towel. “There’s nothing suspicious in the car. What do you make of it?”

Josh yanked off his regulator and mask and dragged his mind back to the investigation. “There’s no body. Kids likely stole the car for a joyride, then ditched the evidence.” More likely kids in this case than the incident in Bec’s barn...unfortunately.

“Kids don’t usually think to pull plates.”

“True. Could’ve been used in a crime, then dumped.” Josh scrubbed his hair dry with the towel. “Get any hits with the car’s make and model?”

“Nope, not within Niagara anyway. No unrecovered Plymouths of any model reported stolen in the last two years.”

“So not insurance fraud.”

Walt shrugged. “Could be from another region.”

“That car hasn’t been down there more than a week.” Josh walked around the car and then, stepping back, studied the distinctive rear taillights.

“You recognize something?” Walt asked.

“Yeah.” Josh clenched the towel in his fist. “I think it’s the same car I saw pull out of a farmer’s field near my place last night...around the same time my new neighbor was attacked by a prowler.”

* * *

Becki headed to the car to grab the last of her boxes and froze. A stone’s throw away, a black SUV idled in Josh’s driveway. The dark-haired guy behind the wheel squinted at her, then turned off his engine.

Her breath caught. Was he the prowler?

She glanced around. Where was Tripod?

The SUV’s door opened, and the guy’s enormous boots hit the gravel with a thud. Boots that could dispense with Josh’s three-legged dog in one swift kick.

The guy peeled off a jacket and slapped a ball cap on his head, exposing tattooed, steely arms. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days. Army-olive fatigues completed the impression of a mercenary looking for action. The guy reached behind his seat.

Josh’s words blasted through her mind.
Some guys would just as soon shoot a witness as run away.

Becki whirled on her heel and ran for the house.

“Hey, hold up there. Are you Bec?”

Bec?
She stopped two yards from the door. Josh was the only one who called her that. This had to be the friend he’d called about borrowing the cameras. She turned slowly and backed up another couple of steps just to be safe. “Who wants to know?”

A friendly grin—not in the least bit mercenary—dented his cheeks. “I’m Hunter.” He lifted his hand. A couple of drab-colored boxes dangled from his fingertips. “Josh asked me to hang these up for you.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat and added, “I appreciate that. Follow me, and I’ll show—”

A sporty green car turned into her driveway.

“Oh.” She looked from the car to the barn.

“You see to your visitor,” Hunter said. “I can find my way.” He tipped his hat and devoured the distance to the barn in powerful strides.

Able to breathe again, she reasoned that if Josh trusted the guy, she could, too. But the message wasn’t getting to her pounding heart. She turned to the approaching car. The place was starting to feel like Grand Central Station. She didn’t recognize the middle-aged man behind the wheel, but he looked a whole lot safer than Rambo.

He parked behind her car and lowered his window. “You Graw’s granddaughter?”

“Yes. May I help you?”

The man stepped out of his car. Unlike Rambo, he was dressed conservatively, with his hair neatly cut, and clean-shaven. Empathy shone from his eyes when he extended his hand. “Name’s Henry Smith. Remember we talked on the phone a few days back?”

“Oh, yes. You’re the friend of my grandfather’s.” On the phone, he’d sounded closer to Gramps’s age.

He cupped her hand between his. “I wanted to drop by to give my condolences. Your grandfather was a dear friend.”

She tilted her head. “You said you knew him through the antique-car club, is that right?”

“That’s right.” He released her hand and reached into the car. “I thought you might like this.” He handed her an eight-by-ten photo of Gran and Gramps posing by their Cadillac in their period costumes.

“Oh, wow!” She savored her grandparents’ smiling faces. “Thank you so much. It’s lovely.”

“Took that on our last tour together. Thought you’d like it.”

Becki traced the hat her gran wore. “I used to love snapping Gramps’s suspenders and trying on Gran’s big floppy hats.”

“Yup, those are great costumes. There’d be a lot of folks in the club who’d be happy to buy them from you if you wanted to sell. Might be interested in some myself if you have time for me to look them over.”

“Oh.” She fluttered her hand toward the barn. “I think they stored those with the car in the trailer, which isn’t here right now. But I’m not ready to part with anything just yet.”

“Of course not.”

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

Becki hitched her thumb toward the house. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, no.” He motioned toward her open trunk. “I can see you’re busy. I just wanted to see you got the photo.”

She grabbed the last two boxes from her car and closed the lid. “C’mon, I could use the break and I’d love to hear more about your trips with my grandparents.”

“Well if you put it that way... There’s nothing we car enthusiasts like to do more than talk about our cars. Except tour them, of course.”

She chuckled, recalling countless Saturday afternoons sitting on the back porch, listening to Gramps and his buddies talk about cars. “What kind of car do you drive on the tours, Mr. Smith?” she asked, leading the way to the back porch.

“Call me Henry, please. Sure is a beautiful place your grandparents had here.”

“I think so. Of course, my ex-boyfriend thinks I’m nuts to want to live out here. He thinks the seclusion and wild animals are way scarier than street crimes.”

“Sounds like someone who’s never spent a day in the country.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Henry’s gaze drifted over her shoulder. “Not that fella, then?”

She glanced back at Hunter, who blended into the tree in his camouflage. “Uh, no. He’s just a...neighbor.” She motioned Henry to one of the porch chairs. “Just give me a minute to get the coffee.”

Henry followed her as far as the open patio door. “Your grandfather had some car trouble on his last tour. If he didn’t get the chance to fix it, I could take a look if you like.”

Becki grabbed the coffee sweetener from the cupboard. “That’s okay. My neighbor already offered.” She poured their coffees and rejoined Henry outside. “So tell me about your last tour with Gran and Gramps.”

“First, tell me about your plans. What will you do with the old Cadillac?”

“Um, not sure yet.” Becki shoved away the guilty feeling that the car was too valuable to be lumped with “contents” in the will. She couldn’t bear the thought of parting with the “old gal,” knowing how much she’d meant to Gramps.

Henry sipped his coffee and shared a couple of touring yarns.

“Can you tell me about any more of my grandparents’ adventures?” Becki asked.

He glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid they’ll have to wait for another time. I need to get on the road.” He patted his breast pocket, pulled out a pen and jotted a number on a scrap of paper. “Here’s my number if you run into any trouble with the car that your neighbor can’t handle.”

“Thank you.” She stood next to the driveway until he’d driven away, then returned inside and leaned against the closed door. For the first time since she’d arrived, she really absorbed the sight of her beloved grandparents’ home. She inhaled, basking in the distinctive fragrance that was her grandparents’.

But the air smelled a bit stale. From being closed up so long, probably. She meandered from room to room, flinging open windows. The scraped paint on the bottom of the too-low window in the main-floor bathroom reminded her of the time she’d locked the window on her sister, who used to sneak in and out through it. Boy, did she get in trouble that night.

The house phone rang.

Becki hesitated. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone else, especially someone who might not have heard that Gran and Gramps were gone.

She swallowed. More likely it was a telemarketer. Or maybe Mom checking in to make sure she’d arrived safely. Becki let out a puff of air. Yeah, in her dreams.

For most of her life, Mom had dictated what Becki could and couldn’t do, who she could date, what extracurricular activities she could join, what college she should attend, but the instant Becki had the
gall
to defy her and move into an apartment, Mom had stopped showing
any
interest in what she did. Which was just one more way to control her.