Where One Road Leads (13 page)

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Authors: Cerian Hebert

BOOK: Where One Road Leads
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In the kitchen she found traces of a feminine touch in the floral curtains and tablecloth, things a guy probably wouldn’t think to pick out. She’d noticed that about the bathroom as well, how the curtains matched the shower curtain and soap dish. Definitely a woman’s influence.

She frowned. She didn’t want to be treading on someone else’s territory as far as Matt was concerned. Then again, Matt didn’t seem to be the type of man who would cheat on a woman. Maybe his mother had decorated the place. She held onto that assumption, preferring it to the other more likely possibility—this had been Rachel’s home too.

Out in the living room, Matt had placed the pizza on the coffee table. She set out the cups of water and handed him a napkin.

“You have a nice place here. Very cozy.” Krista settled next to him.

“Thanks. It’s home. Not that I spend a great deal of time here. Seems I work more than anything.”

Krista took a slice of pizza. “Did Rachel live here?”

Matt paused, his slice of pizza an inch from his mouth. He lowered it and studied her, his dark eyes serious. He was so damned handsome, even with the frown on his face.

“Yes, we lived together for a couple years.”

Krista nodded. “I could tell. There are bits of her all around the place.” She smiled weakly at him. Like this was any of her business, she thought.

“There didn’t seem to be much reason to get rid of some of this stuff,” he said quietly.

“Very true.”

“After all, curtains are just curtains. I don’t hold on to these things because I’m still pining away for her. I think I fell out of love with her long before she left. She was kind enough to point it out to me. I appreciated that in the end.”

Krista turned her gaze to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were carrying a torch. Maybe it was my way of feeling out the situation.” She sank her teeth into the pizza before she said anything else silly.

“Rest assured, Krista, there hasn’t been anyone in my life for a very long time.”

After finishing her slice, Krista settled back on the sofa. “What’s it like to live with someone? I’ve never tried.”

“I guess it depends on who you’re living with. I only tried it once, with Rachel. Things went fine in the beginning, but it turned into a chore for both of us. When you go into something like that you can’t look at it like you’re a kid, playing house, where you can go home anytime. It’s for real and it’s pretty hard to get out of.”

“I’d be afraid,” Krista murmured.

“It’s like any big decision you make. You don’t, or shouldn’t, enter into it lightly. And it helps if you love the person.”

Krista chuckled, but it lacked humor. “Maybe that’s my problem. Everyone I love keeps dying on me. Now I don’t even have my dog. I guess I must be bad luck or something. Poor Gus.”

Matt put down his plate and moved over so he sat leg to leg with her. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her face toward him with his free hand.

“You are
not
bad luck, honey. You’ve got to stop holding yourself responsible for these deaths you’re referring to. Just think, if you had been in your house last night you very well could’ve been dead too. That’s luck, in my book. Or fate. The truth is out there.” He chuckled softly. “Boy, sounds like a television show. We’ll find out who did this and put it behind us. Move past the deaths of Liz and Jay, let it go. And losing Gus isn’t your fault. You need to see that.”

“Of course if I hadn’t come back, none of this would’ve ever happened. Gus would still be his happy dopey self and you’d have your family’s mill all in one piece.”

Matt eased closer and kissed her cheek. “But I wouldn’t have figured out the truth, or learned what an incredible woman you are. Now you have to start forgiving yourself. I’d like you to let me help you, if you could.”

Krista turned to him. His eyes were dark and earnest. He didn’t smile, yet she could tell he would be there for her if she needed him. It would be so easy to try to lean on him, but it would be against her nature. Yet she nodded.

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

“Good.” Matt lightly touched his lips to hers. She resisted the desire to sink further into the kiss.

“Let’s finish this pizza. I didn’t realize how late it is and you look like you’re ready to drop at any moment.”

Krista smiled, realizing how right he was. She caught and held his gaze. His hazel eyes said so much, and reflected the desire that enveloped her every time he was near.

“Matt, do I have to sleep in your guestroom tonight?”

Instinct told Matt to ignore the ringing of the phone. Being in bed with Krista was much more agreeable than the chilly morning air on the other side of the blanket. The phone rang persistently. Finally he surrendered to it, stumbling down the hall into the kitchen to catch the wall phone.

“We’ve got one.” His father, on the other end of the line, sounded wide awake.

Matt wiped his eyes, barely conscious. His father’s words didn’t make much sense. He glanced at the clock on the stove. Only five-ten in the morning.

“Got one who?” he rasped, leaning against the counter. Outside the window the morning was still a deep black, pressing against the glass.

“A suspect for the fires. He turned himself in last night. Matt, it’s Adam Frechette.”

Matt swore. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish, but he’s giving his confession to the fire at Krista’s and the vandalism at the mill. Not for the fire at the mill, though. We’re still working on that.”

“Patricia and John must be beside themselves,” Matt muttered. He never thought Adam had it in him. It had to have had something to do with revenge. Way back in the beginning, Adam had been as full of hatred as Matt had been toward Krista, just like his father had been. Those feelings in Matt had dulled to an ache over the years, and he really thought Adam had let it go, too. Apparently not.

He swore again. “Do you need me to come in?”

“No, you’re still on leave. How’s Krista doing? She still there?”

Matt knew his father was curious about the developing relationship between him and Krista. How could he explain it when he didn’t even know himself?

“She’s sleeping. She was pretty upset last night. I’m not sure what her next move is.”

“Well, as long as she knows I don’t blame her for this. Not at all. I’m glad you’ve come around.”

“It took a while.” Matt grinned despite the serious nature of the call.

“She’s going to need some people on her side. This thing is all over the news. Rehashing of the accident, bringing up the time she spent in prison. Everything. It’s damned unfair, if you ask me, but we should’ve expected it.”

“I’ll try to keep her away from the television,” Matt replied. “She feels guilty enough over everything that’s happened since the opening. Those old wounds don’t need to be ripped open again.”

“Nothing we can do about it. Go back to bed. I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on.”

Matt hung up and sat at the dining room table, staring out the window. Darkness still settled this early in the morning, but soon the sun would creep into the sky. He couldn’t go back to sleep now, his mind raced a mile a second, tossing this new development around in his brain. He didn’t want to wake Krista either, so he decided to go for a run.

He left a quick note for her on the table after changing into the sweatpants and sweatshirt he kept hanging in the bathroom, then snuck out of the house.

The crisp November air struck him like a knife. A sheen of frost glimmered under the remnants of moonlight that dipped low in the west. He drew in the sharp, fresh air and thanked God he lived where it was so sweet and clear. Never in a million years would he trade it for a faster, more exciting life in a big city.

Until Krista had come back to town, not much happened on the streets of Quail Ridge. He knew everyone here, cared for them, and that mattered more than any of this kind of excitement.

He headed down the dark road that would eventually lead to town, the only sound his sneakers slapping against the pavement, and his breath hot against the cold air. He didn’t want to think of anything but pushing himself physically. His mind revolved around the current situation. Everything else was too damned complicated.

He could handle Krista returning, if nothing else went hand in hand with her return. The rest was a different story. The problems that accompanied her hit a little too close to home. His nice, quiet, well-ordered home.

Now he had to deal with the realization one of his acquaintances, someone he’d hung out with on occasion, was confessing to arson. Adam could’ve killed Krista as well. What in hell’s name would possess him to do something so stupid?

And what role did Ricky play in this? They were bringing him in for questioning. Matt figured he’d have a rock-solid alibi; after all, he’d been on the Cape all that time. Still, there had to be some connection. It was too big a situation for Adam to handle by himself. Besides, the two fires happened simultaneously. Adam couldn’t have zipped from one location to the other fast enough to have set them both.

His mind kept coming back to it, like a magnet. Ricky had to be involved somehow.

Matt cut down Red Gate Road, which would double back just above his own house. By now the morning sun had broken through the bare branches, transforming everything with a silvery glaze. It would probably melt away in an hour or so. He wondered if Krista would be awake and if not, the thought of crawling back into a warm bed with her was very enticing. It would be a relief to put off the real world for a while.

When he got inside, he found her in the kitchen making coffee. She gave him a small smile. “Feel better? I couldn’t believe it when I saw your note. You’re an early riser.”

Matt nodded. “I like heading out before I have to deal with the traffic on the road. And getting the exercise out of the way first thing helps me enjoy the rest of my day.”

“Can I make you breakfast?” Krista finished setting the coffeemaker.

“Hey, that’s something I’m supposed to do for you. Why don’t you sit down? I toss a mean omelet.”

Krista smiled and nodded, taking a seat at the table. “I’d like to go over to the house this morning to see if there’s anything I can salvage. I should call a garage and get my Jeep taken care of.”

“Sure, I’ll drive you over and lend a hand. Seems like I’m not going back to work just yet.”

“What a mess.”

“I know it’s soon, but what are your plans now?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Take a good look at the mill, see what’s salvageable. Maybe we can rebuild. That’s up to your family and Cameron, of course. If not, then I clean up my mess and go back to my old life.”

That plan left him cold. He didn’t want to her to leave. He wanted her to hang around, get the center running if possible. To see where this relationship was going. If she left now he’d never know.

“I’m just thinking out loud here, but if you decide to rebuild at the mill, the top floor has been used as an apartment in the past. You could always move there. At least until you can find something else, another house or apartment.”

Krista seemed to ponder his suggestion. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Until then you’re welcome to stay here.” Matt turned away from the eggs and faced her. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, but he saw longing mixed with a wide-eyed ‘deer in the headlights’ stare.

“I don’t want to impose on you, Matt. I’m not even sure what’s going on between us. I realize we’ve probably already put the cart before the horse, but I don’t want you to feel any obligation toward me.”

Matt nodded, a little disappointed. Still, she had a point. Maybe they needed to figure things out some more.

“You do what you need to do, Krista. I’m not going anywhere.”

He served her breakfast and they ate in silence. He thought of letting her know about his father’s phone call, but that would upset her more, knowing Liz’s brother helped destroy her home and vandalize the center.

He wished they had more information, such as who else was involved the previous night. There had to be at least one more person in on this whole mess. If only they could place Ricky at either location. Unfortunately Ricky always played it safe, never slipped up.

Matt itched to get in on the mix at the station, but knew he wouldn’t make it past the front door. His father would keep him updated. Going over to Krista’s house would at least keep his mind off what was going on downtown.

Their silence continued during the drive to her house. When they arrived he heard her sigh, a broken sound that cut through the car.

“I just can’t believe it’s gone,” she murmured as she climbed out.

Not much remained of the old farmhouse except the walls, chimney, and the stairs leading up to a bit of the second story. The rest was black, charred rubble. The garage and a small barn had survived. Her Jeep, however, sat on four flat tires. Matt wondered why Adam hadn’t torched the car. Maybe he’d hoped the fire wouldn’t seem suspicious. That wouldn’t explain why he’d slash the Jeep’s tires. No way were the two occurrences exclusive.

How in the world did Ricky ever convince Adam to do this?

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