When Summer Comes (21 page)

* * *

The dry, sun-bleached wood of the barn made such perfect tinder that putting out the fire turned into a real battle. After two hours, they managed to save part of the structure, but the back section had burned almost completely to cinders, including the room Levi had been using. Seeing the charred remains of the bed where he’d been sleeping when the fire broke out left quite an impression on him.

But he couldn’t focus on that. Not right now. Chief Stacy had just approached him, asking if he’d come inside the house so they could talk.

Levi was tempted to put him off, to act as if he was still trying to salvage some of his belongings from the ashes. He might be able to slip away among the departing firemen, many of whom had shown up in their own vehicles. He’d fixed his bike, so he had transportation. Only his promise to paint the barn stood in his way, and there was no longer anything he could do to fulfill that commitment. It would take a minimum of two weeks to rebuild what had been damaged. And the labor would cost far more than the few hundred bucks he owed Callie.

He could send her the money for the impound fees and those bike parts when he landed his next job. He had to leave, move on before his past caught up with him.

But he couldn’t abandon her on the heels of such a traumatic event. If it was arson, as he suspected, there was a good chance Denny was behind it. Who else would do this? Besides Kyle and Godfrey, Levi hadn’t interacted with anyone in Whiskey Creek. And Callie couldn’t name one other person who might have a grudge against her.

Levi wanted Chief Stacy to look into the possibility of Seamans’s involvement and, if he’d done it, hold him accountable. Levi wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave Callie alone until he knew she’d be safe—not when it was helping him that had endangered her in the first place.

“Well?” Stacy prompted.

Levi figured he was probably making the wrong decision, but he wiped his sooty hands on his jeans and agreed.

Stacy started toward the house with the expectation that Levi would follow, and Levi did. If he wasn’t going to move on right away, he could only hope to get through the coming interview without divulging too much.

As soon as they walked in, Rifle dashed out of the kitchen where Callie was making breakfast. He hadn’t liked being shut up, away from all the action. But he had a several cuts on his forelegs from when he’d jumped through the window, and Callie had wanted to clean them and keep him inside so he wouldn’t sustain any more injuries.

“You two hungry?” She’d followed her dog as far as the doorway between the two rooms and was looking from one to the other as if eager to ascertain the tenor of their business.

“No, thanks. But a cup of coffee would be great.” Stacy removed his hat and placed it on the table at his elbow as he took a seat in one of the wingback chairs.

“Levi?” she asked.

“Nothing for me.” He carried the wooden bench from its location near the door over to the couch. His clothes were too dirty to sit on the upholstered furniture.

Callie disappeared and came back with Chief Stacy’s coffee. She brought sugar and cream, too. Then her cell phone rang. With a final anxious look in their direction, she said, “It’s my parents. I’m afraid they’ve already heard about the fire, so...I have to take this.”

Levi nodded, and she went into the kitchen to answer it, but Rifle stayed by his side. “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Stacy had been busy fixing his coffee. At this he glanced up. “Let’s begin with the fire.”

Levi inclined his head. That seemed like a good idea to him.

“Can you tell me how it got started?”

“No.”

He paused to take the first sip from his cup, grimaced as if it was too hot but swallowed, anyway. “You don’t smoke? You weren’t burning candles or setting off firecrackers?”

Firecrackers?
What was he? Twelve? “No, sir. Everything was calm and quiet when I hit the sack. Next thing I knew, Rifle was trying to drag me from my bed.”

“How’d he do that?”

“The only way he could.” Levi stretched out his arm to show the fresh bite marks.

“Wow.” Stacy set his coffee aside, clicking his tongue. “They aren’t anything compared to all those stitches, though, are they?”

“Rifle wasn’t trying to tear me apart.”

“I heard about the pit bull attack, of course. Godfrey told me he took care of you. But I had no idea your injuries were so extensive.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw with a rasping sound. “I’m afraid Whiskey Creek hasn’t been a lucky stop for you.”

Levi could tell that wasn’t the throwaway remark Stacy pretended it was. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

“Excuse me?”

“If Rifle hadn’t risked his life to wake me, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. I’d breathed in so much carbon monoxide I was halfway unconscious, so it’s a miracle he got to me in time. I guess that makes me pretty lucky.”

“Oh...right.” Stacy chuckled, then whistled to Rifle. “What a good boy,” he said, giving the dog a pat when Rifle walked over. “Callie told me he jumped through the window to reach you. That’s impressive.”

“He’s got the cuts to prove it.”

Stacy jerked a thumb toward the broken window, which had to be boarded up until Callie could get it fixed. “Sailing through a window like that? Believe me, his injuries could’ve been a lot worse.”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “See what I mean about luck?”

“I’d call that devotion. He must like you a great deal to go to such lengths to keep you safe.”

As if to prove that he did indeed like Levi, Rifle returned to his side and lay at his feet.

Stacy motioned to the dog. “Would you look at that! You’ve won him over in record time.”

Levi managed a self-deprecating grin. “No accounting for a dog’s taste, I guess.”

Callie was still on the phone. Levi could hear her in the other room, working hard to convince her parents that she was safe and had things under control. Someone had alerted them to the fire, all right.

Stacy could, no doubt, hear her, too, but he twisted around as though looking for her. Then he lowered his voice. “And what about Callie? How much does
she
like you?”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Levi said.

“I just asked if there’s something between you and Callie. That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

It was his
reason
for asking that bothered Levi. Their relationship wasn’t a matter of police business. “Does that have anything to do with the fire?”

Stacy had been reaching for his cup, but he straightened without picking it up. “Maybe.”

Levi blinked at him. “I’m afraid I don’t see the connection.”

The police chief made a show of brushing a piece of lint from his uniform. “Then I’ll spell it out for you. I know her parents quite well. I knew her grandparents before they passed, too. And many of her friends are my friends.”

Levi’s heavy-lidded look was meant to suggest he didn’t give a shit. “You’re trying to say you’ve got a personal stake in how we feel about each other?”

A muscle flexed in Stacy’s cheek. Forgetting his coffee, he slid forward. “I’m trying to say I’ve sworn to protect the people of this town, and I plan to do that.”

Levi leaned forward, too. “From what?”

“From whatever threat they might face!”

“Too bad you weren’t around tonight.”

Stacy obviously recognized the sarcasm in his voice. He gave Levi a dirty look as he reclaimed his cup. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get to the bottom of what went on here. I promise you that. And I’ll make sure Callie’s safe from any
other
threats, too.”

“You mean...like the threat posed by an unsavory drifter?”

Stacy’s cup hit the saucer with a loud clack. The glitter in his eyes told Levi that he didn’t like meeting with any resistance. But Levi didn’t like what he was hearing, either. After growing up with an overbearing father and coping with the rigid structure of the military, including one or two superior officers who should never have been given authority over other soldiers, Levi could no longer tolerate those who overstepped their bounds. What had happened to Behrukh only made it worse. The men in her life thought they had the right to tell her whom she could love.

“If necessary,” Stacy said.

Suddenly, Levi itched to hit the road, to leave this arrogant son of a bitch behind—so he wouldn’t do something he might regret, like rearranging Stacy’s face. “And how do you propose to do that?” he asked. “By getting involved in Callie’s personal life, even though she wouldn’t thank you for it?”

“Mr. McCloud, I’ll decide what’s too personal and what isn’t. Do you understand?”

“Better than you realize.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. So let me make things a little clearer. You’ve been here almost a week. That’s long enough to recover.”

“Are you asking me to leave?”

“I’m merely pointing out that you might be wearing out your welcome. Where do you plan on going from here?”

Knowing his delay in responding would make as much of a statement as his words, Levi waited a second before replying. “Wherever I want.”

“That’s easy, isn’t it?” Stacy said with a humorless chuckle. “When you don’t have a job like the rest of us?”

“Is that why we’re sitting here, Chief Stacy? Because I don’t have a job? That’s somehow breaking the law in your book?”

Red suffused the other man’s face. “I’ll admit there could be worse things. There’s nothing on you in the system, Mr. McCloud. No traffic citations. No previous arrests.”

It required effort not to curl his hands into fists. “Isn’t that good?”

“It would be if it was accurate. But I have reason to believe it’s not.”

An uneasy feeling skittered down Levi’s spine.

“Godfrey mentioned that you were in the military. Is that true?”

He said nothing.

“It is, isn’t it? But the background check I ran doesn’t show that, either. No Levi McCloud from Seattle has ever served in the armed forces.”

Stacy knew he wasn’t using his real name, or his military record would’ve come up.

“Do you have an ID you can show me?”

“Sorry. It got burned in the fire.” That wasn’t true. After that night in Nevada, he’d thrown his wallet into a lake. He knew he’d never be able to use it again, had simply picked a new name, but hadn’t gone so far as to buy false ID. He had no idea where people even came up with that shit.

“That’s too bad,” Stacy said. “Now you have no proof that you are who you say you are.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Levi agreed.

“There
is
one way to solve it....”

“And that is?”

“I’d rather you were someone else’s problem. Since you arrived, we’ve had a dog attack and a fire.
Two
serious incidents. Whether you’re to blame or not, trouble seems to follow you. So let me ask you again—how long are you planning on staying?”

A noise over by the kitchen drew Levi’s attention. Callie was off the phone. He had no idea when she’d started listening in, but judging by the blush of anger on her cheeks, she’d overheard enough to know that all wasn’t well.

“What are you trying to say, Chief?” she asked, coming into the room. “Are you saying he’s not welcome in Whiskey Creek?”

After taking a final swallow of coffee, Stacy put his cup and saucer on the table. “No need to get upset, Callie. I think Mr. McCloud and I understand each other,” he said, and wished them both a good day before he left.

15

“W
hat did all that mean?”

Reluctant to look at Callie, who was crouched in front of his chair, staring up at him, Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t want to know.”

“Chief Stacy said your service in the military didn’t show up in his background search.”

“That’s what he said.”

She nudged his leg.
“Why?”

Blowing out a sigh, he returned her gaze. “Because my name isn’t McCloud, okay?”

Eyes wide, she rocked back. “Then...who are you?”

For some reason, her crestfallen expression made him angry. He didn’t want to see her so shocked and upset, didn’t want to be the cause of it. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “You knew I was wanted by the police.”

“You said it was for speeding tickets! But Stacy said you had no speeding tickets. And, even if you really do, a couple of speeding tickets is no reason to assume a false identity.”

“It’s as good a reason as any. Why go to jail? Anyway, I’m just helping you out for a few days. We’re never going to see each other after I leave. So how is my name even important? Would Smith or Jones or Hall be any better than McCloud for some man who once painted your barn?”

He was being a jerk, but he couldn’t say why. He had no excuse to be unkind to Callie. It was the police chief who’d hit him with reality and made him want to strike back. Callie hadn’t done anything except try to help him.

Fortunately, she didn’t make matters worse by appearing wounded. She came right back at him. “Are you that determined not to care about anyone? And not to let anyone care about you?”

“I told you from the beginning not to expect anything from me!” Desperate to put some space between them, he got up and approached the mantel, where a large gilded mirror showed him the conflicting emotions on his face.

Rising to her feet, she spoke from behind him. “Then go, if that’s what you’re dying to do! Nothing’s stopping you.”

“Except my word. I’ll pay you back before I leave.”

“You’ve already done enough. You don’t owe me anything. Consider the money I spent on your bike a...a gift—from one stranger to another.”

He whirled to confront her. “And what about Denny Seamans and his buddy? They probably set the fire in the barn tonight. You know that. They could come back.”

“I can handle them myself,” she insisted. “I don’t need you any more than you need me.”

“Fine.” He no longer had his leather coat, his backpack, his extra clothes and shoes—just what he had on his back and the boots he’d worn the night he was attacked by those dogs. He’d cleaned off the blood and left them by the back door to dry. But that was enough. He’d always been able to fend for himself. It was when others depended on him that life got complicated.