Green Fire (9 page)

Dinner had been an enjoyable occasion, but as Mike Slater parked his nondescript little Ford compact in Rani's driveway, matters started to disintegrate. Rani stared at the light shining through the curtains of her living room windows and frowned.

"I don't recall turning on the lights before I left this evening," she remarked as Mike opened the car door for her.

"Maybe you just forgot to switch them off when I picked you up tonight." Mike glanced toward the house.

"No, I would have remembered." Rani sighed as she dug her key out of her shoulder bag. "My neighbor was probably raiding my refrigerator."

Mike's brow lifted inquiringly. "I didn't know you had a neighbor."

"He's a handyman or gardener or something. The Andersons hired him to put things in shape around here. He's staying in the back cottage."

"You didn't mention him."

Rani shrugged as she pushed open the front door. "He just arrived a couple days ago. I guess I forgot to tell you about him." There was a sharp hiss of annoyance from Zipp, who took one look at the stranger standing next to Rani and promptly disappeared.

Flint's voice called out from the kitchen. "Hey, you two are back early. Want some coffee? I just made a pot." He sauntered to the kitchen doorway and stood leaning against the frame, a suspiciously bland smile on his hard face as he looked at Mike. He was wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up casually on his forearms. His jeans were faded and worn, and he had on a pair of low, scuffed boots. Standing there with a coffeepot in one hand, he looked very much at home, intimidatingly so. He seemed aware of it. "You must be the artist."

Mike blinked but rose to the occasion. He kept his voice just as politely dry as Flint's had been. "You must be the handyman or gardener or something."

Flint nodded agreeably. "That's me. Very handy. Here I am standing here with hot coffee just as you walk in the door. Where else are you going to get that kind of service?"

Rani stepped forward aggressively and took the pot from his hand. "This sort of thing isn't on your list of job duties and you know it," she muttered furiously, sweeping past him into the kitchen. "You've got your own kitchen. Kindly stay out of mine."

"Not my fault you walked in just as I was making the coffee."

"Really?" She smiled dangerously as she hauled cups out of the cupboard. "How long have you been here?"

Flint shrugged, ignoring Mike. "I came over to find something to read earlier and decided to make the coffee."

"Uh-huh. In other words you've been here all evening." Rani swung around, two coffee cups in her hands. "Excuse me, Flint, you're in the way." She moved forward, silently daring him not to move out of the doorway. When he stepped aside, she hid her relief. "Here you are, Mike. Come on into the living room and sit down. Flint was just leaving."

"Actually," said Flint, "I wouldn't mind joining you. It's been a long, quiet evening. I'm Flint Cottrell, by the way." He nodded at the other man.

"Mike Slater." Mike glanced at him and then smiled quizzically at Rani. "Maybe I'd better be on my way." He left it a question.

"Don't rush off on my account." Flint sprawled in a chair, a mug of coffee in his hand. Zipp immediately appeared from wherever he had been sulking and hopped into Flint's lap. After a few glares in Mike's direction, the cat finally settled down to a machine-gun purr. "You two have a nice evening?" Flint said conversationally.

"It's been lovely up until now." Rani urged her guest to a chair. Mike sat down somewhat reluctantly and accepted the cup and saucer she handed him.

"We went to the resort at the far end of the lake," Mike said politely. "Good steaks."

Rani's smile was determined. "Good band, too."

"The place was probably full of deer hunters," Flint observed, oblivious to the chill in her voice.

"Not really," Rani said. Mostly resort guests. The only signs of the hunters were the rifle shots we heard between here and the resort."

Mike nodded, frowning. "It was just at dusk. Some hunter must have been making one last try for a deer before nightfall. He was too near the road if you ask me. We could hear the shots quite clearly."

"Crazy hunters. No common sense," Rani complained. "They have no business shooting that close to civilization."

"Every hunting season someone gets hurt," Mike said. "Usually another hunter. It's a dangerous sport."

Rani grimaced. "Frankly, my sympathy is with the deer."

Flint looked at Mike. "You come up here to Reed Lake regularly?''

"I usually head for the mountains at this time of the year," Mike acknowledged politely. "Spent last winter in Tahoe and the winter before that in Lake County. I like mountains in winter."

Rani smiled, doing her best to shut Flint out of the conversation. "Are mountains in winter good for the creative juices?"

"I do some of my best work during winter."

Flint smiled blandly again. "Being an artist must be a lot like being a handyman. Not too stable a profession."

"Oh, I work on a regular basis," Mike assured him. "I show relatively often and have a fairly steady following. I haven't been a starving artist for a very long time."

"Where do you show?" Flint asked.

"Down in the Bay area and Carmel mostly. Why? Are you interested in art?"

"In a way. I'm in the process of changing careers, you see," Flint told him.

"I see." Mike tried to look politely interested.

Rani decided it was time to step in and regain control of the situation. "Well, I don't. There's not much connection between painting and career hunting."

"Sure there is," Flint said, looking offended. "They're both creative efforts, aren't they?"

"Perhaps you should be making a bit more of a creative effort," she suggested coolly as she glanced pointedly at her watch. "In fact, maybe it's time you went back to work."

Flint shook his head. "Not tonight. I've taken your advice and given up trying to write at night." His green eyes glittered between his narrowed lashes as he looked at Mike. "Rani prefers me to work during the day and keep my evenings free.''

Patience exhausted, Rani set down her cup and saucer with a clatter and got to her feet. "Good night, Flint."

He looked up at her. "I haven't finished my coffee."

"Take it with you."

"What's the rush, honey? It's not that late."

Before Rani could respond, Mike was getting to his feet, mild embarrassment on his lean face. "Uh, maybe I'd better be on my way, too. It is getting kind of late. Thanks for a great evening, Rani. I'll probably see you at the post office in town tomorrow."

"There's no need to leave," Rani said grimly. "Flint was just on his way out."

Flint stretched hugely, putting down his mug. "You're right, Slater. It is late."

"Yes, well, see you tomorrow, Rani." Mike was already at the door.

Rani shot a glare at Flint and hurried forward. "I'll walk outside with you." She let the door close behind herself and Mike and wound up standing on the porch, smiling apologetically at her date for the evening. "I'm sorry about that. He's a very strange man. Just sort of moves in and makes himself at home."

"Where did he come from?" Mike looked down at her, bracing himself with one hand against the porch railing.

"Beats me. Here, there and everywhere from the sound of things. I asked him about his previous jobs and he implied he's had a lot of them. Very unstable."

"I hope that applies to his job history and not his psychological profile."

Rani's eyes widened. She rubbed her forearms with her palms. "Surely you don't think he's dangerous?"

Mike looked immediately chagrined. "No, of course not. I don't know anything about the man, do I? It's just that you made him sound weird and he does seem to have assumed he's got a right to wander in and out of your house without permission. That's hardly the behavior of the average handyman."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't met too many handymen." Rani tried a nervous smile. "Or gardeners either, for that matter. Actually, he's also a part-time writer of some sort. Does articles for magazines, or so he says."

"What kind of articles does he write?"

"Articles about legends."

"Legends?"

"Umm." Rani held up her hand so that the porch light gleamed dully off the green stone in her ring. "Legends concerning things like this ring, which he thinks might be very old."

Mike took a closer look at the ring. "He's interested in this rock?"

"He says it's one of the reasons he's here. Oh, it's a long story. The bottom line is that this ring once belonged to my Uncle Ambrose who died earlier this year, Flint knows the history of the ring, and when he decided to write his article he wanted to see what happened to it. He found out it had been left to me." She broke off at the odd expression on Mike's face.

"Rani, are you telling me the man got a job here just to be near the ring?"

She swallowed uneasily. "Put like that, it does sound rather strange, doesn't it? But I think it's the truth. There's nothing really menacing about his actions. He's just a… a different sort of man."

"Is the ring valuable?" Mike asked sharply.

"Oh, no," she hastened to assure him. "At least not from a jeweler's point of view. The stone is paste. I had it appraised. Besides, have you ever seen a real emerald this size?"

Mike grinned. "Are you kidding? I don't shop at the kind of stores that sell emeralds that size."

"Neither do I." She waved her hand airily. "It's junk. Pretty yes, but junk nevertheless. The only value is in the legend, and that's why Flint is interested in it."

"How valuable is the legend to him?" Mike asked flatly.

"He says the ring can only be worn by a woman. He's not likely to steal it."

Mike ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "I don't know, Rani. It's a strange setup."

"I know. But I honestly don't think it's a dangerous one."

Mike hesitated. "As long as you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Mike glanced away. "Am I, uh, stepping into his territory?"

"His territory?"

"Yeah. I don't want to get involved in a touchy situation. If you and he are, uh…"

"We most definitely are
not
." Rani's eyes narrowed. "And you are not stepping on his turf. I don't conduct my social life on that primitive a level. I date whom I wish and I am not
involved
with anyone. Clear?"

Mike nodded quickly. "Very clear. Sorry about that. I just wanted to know where you stood."

Rani forgave him immediately. He appeared thoroughly abashed. "Don't worry about it. I know how it must have looked, the way Flint was hanging around my kitchen with the coffeepot. The problem is that the cottage he's got is in very poor condition. It hasn't been used in years, and he probably hasn't even got a coffeepot." That wasn't strictly true. He had a kettle in which he could boil hot water for instant coffee, but Rani thought she wouldn't go into too much detail.

"Well, in that case, do I dare risk asking for another date?"

She laughed up at him. "You bet. I had a wonderful time tonight, Mike. Thanks very much." She started to stand on tiptoe so that he could give her a polite good-night kiss, but at that moment the door opened behind her. She closed her eyes in disgust and sighed.

"Isn't it getting a little chilly out here?" Flint asked cheerily.

Mike nodded. "A little. I'll be on my way." He trotted down the steps and got into the Ford.

Rani stood watching until the small Ford had disappeared from the drive. Then she turned to confront Flint who was standing in the doorway with Zipp at his feet. Slowly she gathered herself, struggling to keep her temper under control. She would not lose it, she vowed. She would be cold and disdainful and not give into the temptation to yell at him like a fishwife. The vow lasted all of five seconds,

"Of all the rude, insufferable, socially inept people I have ever met in my life, you take the honors, Flint Cottrell. You should be ashamed of yourself. You had no business being here when I got home with Mike. And no business forcing yourself on us while we had our coffee. Who do you think you are? Didn't you learn manners anywhere along the line, or have you spent so much time hopping around the globe that you neglected to learn the basics? No wonder you don't stay long in any one place. You're probably asked to leave when you start becoming impossible." She was starting to yell. She knew she was. Savagely she bit off the last words and stormed past Flint into the living room.

Flint slowly closed the door and turned to face her. He didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting. That infuriated Rani even more. She flung herself down on the old, padded sofa and scowled. "I suppose you've got an explanation for your behaviour?"

"I was waiting for you."

She gritted her teeth. "Why?"

"You know why, Rani." He spoke softly, moving silently across the room to collect the used coffee cups.

"No, I don't know why. I'm thirty years old. I've been handling my social life all by myself for a long time. I don't appreciate some heavy-handed big brother type waiting around for me when I come in the door."

"I'm not the big brother type so you can stop worrying."

"That's the way you were acting tonight."

He shook his head, walking into the kitchen. "No."

She jumped to her feet and went after him. Halting in the kitchen doorway, she eyed him with suppressed violence as he put the dishes in the sink. "Then how would you describe your own behaviour?"

He kept his attention on the cups he was putting into the sink, but his expression grew thoughtful. "Possessive might be a good description. Protective. Concerned."

Rani held her breath as he said the words. She sensed the tension in him, knew it communicated itself to her. "You have no right, Flint."

He turned his head to look at her, his green eyes unfathomable. "I also have no choice."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can't let another man make love to you, Rani. Not now. I've been searching for you for too long. It would drive me crazy to know someone else was touching you now that I've found you."