Stranger on the Shore (29 page)

With numb fingers she stuffed the pages back into the envelope and began the walk back to the farmhouse.

Would the misery of this summer never end?

Chapter 15

Do you realize you've been here for breakfast nearly every day this week?" Sarah asked, the accusation clearly audible in her voice. She placed the platter of sausage and eggs in front of her cousin. "You were never very subtle, T.J. I know what you're doing."

"What? Eating the best breakfast in Benton County? You bet."

Sarah shook her head. "I know you and Sam cooked this up between you. When are you going to admit you were wrong?"

"That you cook the best breakfast in the county? When I find a better one, I guess," T.J. said with a straight face. "Come on, Sarah, love. Stop glowering and have a cup of coffee. And maybe I'll tell you my news."

When Sarah made no move to join him, he cocked his head to one side. "It's about the Caldwell place," he said teasingly.

"You're not going to get around me that easily, Timothy James. I know they've stated clearing a building site down by the road."

"Well, I didn't reckon you'd suddenly gone blind," he returned huffily. "'Course I knew you'd seen the bulldozers. Heck. You can even hear them from here. This is something else."

"All right," Sarah said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Go on and tell me what you heard, but you're not changing my mind. Your flypaper act is getting a little old."

T.J. grinned like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. "Not something I heard, Sarah, but something I did. I've bought the Caldwell place—signed the papers yesterday."

If T.J. had wanted his announcement to be a bombshell, he'd succeeded. She slammed her coffee mug down on the table, choking on the sip of liquid trying to enter her esophagus via her windpipe. Her cousin was behind her chair in a second, administering assistance in the form of several heavy pats on the back.

Weakly she waved him away. "Your cure's worse that the ailment," she said between gasps for breath.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he said, his voice contrite, as she fought to regain control of hers. "I didn't mean to—"

"Surprise me? Or pound me to death? She gave him a grin. "It's okay. I just don't understand how... I mean, I thought the place was sold." She gasped suddenly. "You're not building—"

"Of course not," he interjected. "I'm buying on a lease-option, everything but the building site by the road and one other."

He hesitated for a moment. "Sarah, I'm sorry, but they're also cutting out another five-acre parcel. It's the old home site between the orchard and the river. And access to reach it, of course."

"If anyone was going to buy eighty acres for a building site, it's only good sense to pick the best one on the property," she said. "Of course it would be the old home site. What I don't understand is how you managed to get the rest."

"On a silver platter," T.J. told her. "Honest. Right out of the blue this lawyer in Rogers calls me. Said the bulk of the property was going to be resold and he'd been instructed to offer it to me before putting it on the open market. I thought it was a joke, but it wasn't. I've got a lease for five years with an option to buy that can be exercised anytime within the lease period for a minimum down payment. And eighty percent of the lease payments apply to the purchase price."

"But who owns it, T.J. He doesn't sound too smart to me. Are you sure it's legal?"

T.J. laughed. "I wondered the same thing. I think that lawyer in Bentonville does too, at least the part about his client not being too smart. But he said he was under instructions. And it's all legal. I had Dad's lawyer look over the papers before I signed." He shook his head. "I don't know who the owner is. A land company holds actual title. I wondered if..."

"You think you know who it is, don't you?"

T.J. grinned sheepishly. "I've got one wild idea."

"Who?"

"I'm not telling you. If I'm right, we'll all know soon enough. If I'm wrong, then nobody can call me a fool. Anyway, according to the lease, I have full and unrestricted use of the land until the building site is surveyed, staked and fenced off from the rest of the property. That means you can go swimming at the river again. Legally, I mean. I'm giving you permission."

Sarah looked up indignantly. "You know I haven't been to the river since it was sold. I wouldn't go trespassing on someone else's land unless I—"

"Knew who you were trespassing on."

"I was going to say unless I had permission."

"So now you've got permission. What do you plan to do today? Everyone else is gone, aren't they?"

"Yes. I thought I'd drive into Fayetteville, this afternoon. Grandpa said I could use his car. I need to do a little shopping."

"Wait until tomorrow and I'll go with you."

"That's what I meant earlier, T.J. I can't step off the farm without you playing watchdog. It's got to stop."

"I need to go to Fayetteville, too, Sarah. Honest. And your Grandfather's car is air-conditioned. Are you saying I can't come with you?" He gave her a hurt little-boy look reminiscent of Jimmy Joe's.

"You're a poor liar and an even worse actor," she told him. "You don't need to go to Fayetteville."

"And neither do you. So, are you going to stay home like a good girl? Just a little longer, Sarah. Until we're sure."

"I'm sure now." She sighed. "Oh, all right. Maybe I'll go swimming."

"That should be all right. Want to go out to dinner tonight? Maybe catch a movie?"

Sarah shook her head.

"I'll stop by later. Maybe you'll change your mind," T.J. said.

"You mean you'll check on me later."

He grinned. "That's what I said." He picked up the now empty plate and walked around the table to lay it in the sink. Then, unexpectedly, swooped down to give her a peck on the cheek. "You do fix the best breakfast in Benton County," he said. "Only don't tell Mom I said so. I'll have to deny it."

Sarah couldn't help smiling back. She shook her head as she watched him drive down the hill.

* * *

Jordan had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but his mind refused to acknowledge his exhaustion. He had only one thought. Get to Sarah. Make sure she's safe.

The frustration he'd felt when he'd finally pieced together the story in Tulsa drained from him as he neared his destination. But even at the height of his anger he'd never believed she'd deceived him intentionally. She was such an innocent. She simply hadn't realized what was going on.

From now on she'd tell him everything. No more ignoring threats or warnings of any kind. She wouldn't have to deal with them. All she had to do was tell him. From now on he'd take care of anything like this.

Turning onto the main street of Mountain Springs, Jordan briefly enjoyed the unfamiliar feeling of homecoming. Not yet, but soon, he promised himself, steering the SUV into a side street and parking next to town hall.

As he entered the sheriff's office, Sam looked up from his desk, a dark frown immediately replacing his usual benign expression.

"Where's Sarah? Is she all right?"

"No reason she shouldn't be," Sam returned curtly. "Thought you'd left town.

"I'm back," Jordan said, forcing himself to be calm. He'd get no help from the sheriff if he lost his temper now. Besides, it wasn't Sam's fault. He hadn't known either.

Jordan laid two sheets of paper on the desk. "Here's the fellow you should be frowning at. He's the one after Sarah."

Sam reached for the papers.

"His name's Billy Clyde Jackson. Sarah gave Tulsa police the license number of his car three years ago. He spent twenty-two months in jail on hit-and-run charges and was released on parole last May. He jumped parole.

"Three years ago? That's about the time she came home hurt and scared as an abandoned kitten." Sam sighed. "It was a bad time, but no reason to think it has anything to do with Sarah's 'accidents.'"

"There is if you know the man's a nut case. And know he threatened her. Right in the courtroom."

"Threatened her? She never told me that." Sam's frown turned into a full-fledged scowl. "Why wasn't she warned before he was released? Why wasn't she called into the parole hearing? That's standard procedure with threats."

"They didn't notify her because no one knew she'd been threatened. No one but Sarah, and she chose to ignore it."

"He threatened her in court and nobody knew it? Damnation, Matthias, you're not making any sense."

Jordan felt sorry for the man. "Sorry, Sheriff. I'll try a little harder." Jordan dragged his hand through his hair.

Sam seemed to look at him for the first time. "You look exhausted," he said, not unkindly. "Well, don't just stand there. Sit down before you fall down and tell me what the hell's going on." He kicked at the leg of the empty chair by his desk.

Gratefully Jordan sank into it. At least Sam seemed willing to listen to him. He'd even offered him a chair. "Sarah gave police the license number of the hit-and-run car. Then their only witness gave them the same number under hypnosis. The matching numbers—that's the story that leaked to the press and caused the publicity," Jordan explained.

Sam nodded. "She didn't tell me much about it. It was all over by the time she came home. I didn't press her. She was in pretty bad shape."

This time it was Jordan who nodded. "I don't know why Sarah went to the arraignment. Jackson originally reported the car stolen, so maybe she wanted to be sure they had the right man. Anyway, she was there. Jackson may have seen and recognized her. There were a couple of photographs in one of the papers. Maybe he didn't see her. But something set him off. He went completely crazy. They had to drag him out of the courtroom.

"I talked to one of the officers who was there. He said Jackson was screaming and yelling and calling down vengeance on the devil's disciples who interfered in his work for the Almighty. But no one realized it was directed at Sarah, because no one knew that she'd been receiving threatening phone calls and crank letters about her 'devil's work.' I had to drag it out of her, and then only a little bit of it. I didn't even get his name from her. That's why it's taken me so long to get back."

"She told you this guy threatened her? She never told me." Sam's expression was growing darker by the moment. "Neither did you. If I'd known, I could have checked it out a long time ago. Damn it. She nearly had me convinced she was right and I was wrong."

"I'm sorry, Sam. Once, when we were talking, she mentioned threats. After what happened at the rodeo I made her tell me more. I promised her I wouldn't tell you because she insisted it wasn't important. Said you'd just be off on another wild-goose chase. I think she really believes it isn't important. And I thought it was a long shot, too. The Ewells sounded like better prospects."

Jordan shut his eyes for a moment, struggling to keep his frustration under control. "But now I'm convinced he's the one. I talked to a couple of the inmates, too. He was still muttering threats when he was released. It all fits."

"Damn it all. She needs a keeper."

"She's got one."

Sam's head snapped up. Jordan met his eyes without flinching. After a long moment Sam slowly nodded his head, then turned his attention to the set of mug shots.

"I don't think I've seen him around. Stands to reason he'd keep out of sight, though."

"I understand he's about sixty pounds heavier. Prison must have agreed with him."

"Then maybe we'd just better see he goes back." Sam studied the pictures again. "Heavier. Fuller cheeks, jowls. Maybe..." He pushed back his chair and stood, the paper still in his hand. "I'll find him. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find Sarah and wring her foolish little neck. Then I'm going to marry her, if I can convince her to have me."

"Now see here, Matthias—" Sam protested.

"And you'd better start calling me Jordan. I'm going to be around a lot."

Both men were still staring at each other when the office slammed open. Jordan turned as T.J. stepped into the room.

"Thought that was your SUV," he said, nodding at Jordan. "You're just in time. I think I've found the pickup."