Flash Point Page 4

  “You’re up early.”

  Emma about jumped out of her sneakers. Shielded by the large trunk of a pine, Bradley Gallagher stood off the trail, a steaming travel mug in his hand.

  “Jeez, why don’t you just shoot me?” She thumped her chest above her heavily beating heart. “Are you out here looking for hikers to arrest?”

  He wore faded Levi’s paired with a dark plaid shirt. His heavy quilted vest was open and Emma noticed the absence of his cop belt. A dark hat shadowed his eyes.

  Ignoring her comment, he scanned her face intently. “You look like you didn’t sleep well.”

  She shrugged, gaze fixed on his cup. She could smell coffee, strong and dark. “I slept okay. Just waking up slowly.” She breathed in deeply, wondering if she could absorb caffeine from just the aroma.

  He eyed her thoughtfully, then simply passed her the mug. Emma hesitated, then lost the internal battle and took a long sip. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth trickle down to her stomach. Opening them again, she found his expression unreadable. Shifting uncomfortably, she took another sip and handed back his coffee. “Thanks.” Remembering the vehicle shining headlights into her cabin the night before, she cocked her head. “Did you drive up to my cabin last night, around ten?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Someone did.”

  Frowning, he said, “Tell me about it.”

  When she eyed his cup again, he shook his head. “Wait. We’ll talk in a minute. Come with me.” When Emma looked at him skeptically, he lifted a brow.

  “I can set you up with coffee all your own.”

  That decided it. She followed him as the trail curved to the right and then widened along a grassy slope. A beautiful home of log cabin construction sat among tall trees. It stood two stories high with wide windows that faced the lake. A veranda with a porch swing stretched across the front and the right side of the house while a stone chimney abutted the left. The rich golden logs and gray slate of the roof added to the homey, welcome feel.

  When he led her to the veranda steps, Emma hesitated, wondering if a girlfriend might be present. Maybe the pretty Maddy, whom he’d given that casual, I’ve-known-you-forever-and-kiss-you-all-of-the-time kiss on the cheek. If he noticed her hesitation, he didn’t comment, instead holding wide the door until Emma entered the house ahead of him.

  ***

  Brad tried to see his home through her eyes. The open spaces, the fireplace with its stone hearth that sat across the living room. The recliner that was comfortable but probably needed replacing. There was a scattering of shelves that held books, and newspapers sat piled on the floor. He hoped she could see the potential below the surface.

  “You seriously need more furniture, but this is gorgeous.”

  She crossed the floor to examine photographs, matted and framed, hanging on the wall. “These are great.” She peered closer. “They catch the starkness, the loneliness, of this ghost town. Is it around here?”

  He looked over her shoulder at the prints. “Yeah, that’s Bodie. It’s a gold-mining town from the late eighteen hundreds out near the Nevada border. The light was great that day.”

  She glanced at him, a rose tinge to her cheeks evidence she’d gotten some sun. She must have noticed his attention because she looked flustered before turning back to the images. “You took these?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They really are very good. It looks like you could walk down the dusty street and a steely-eyed gunslinger would step out of the past.”

  As she inspected the photographs, Brad forced himself to take a steadying breath. Every time he saw her, those smoky gray eyes that reflected the intelligence, the strength of spirit he found so attractive, wound him up a bit more. He needed to get a grip. He motioned toward the kitchen. “Coffee is this way.” He filled a mug from a half-full pot and handed it to her, motioning to a jelly jar on the counter. “Milk is in the fridge. Sugar’s in the jar.”

  “Um, thanks.” She got the milk and added the sugar, then took a long sip before raising guarded eyes to his.

  Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to make her aware of him. “Good?”

  Emma stared blankly before nodding jerkily. “Yeah. And much appreciated.”

  He refilled his mug and leaned against the counter. “Tell me about the vehicle you saw last night.”

  She shrugged. “Somebody came up the driveway and then sat there with the engine idling, their headlights shining into the cabin. It was probably nothing.”

  “It made you uncomfortable so it’s not nothing. Tell me everything you noticed. What type of vehicle was it?”

  “Big, I think an SUV. Suburban or Ford Expedition size. I thought it might have been yours, but your headlights are squared and I think these were rounder. It pulled up next to my car and sat there. Nobody got out, and then it drove away. I guess it made me nervous.”

  “How long was it there?”

  “Maybe four or five minutes.”

  He asked several more questions, but she didn’t have any more details. “If anything like that happens again, call me immediately. I can be at your place in minutes.”

  “I really don’t think—”

  “Emmaline, call me.”

  Shrugging again, she glanced around his kitchen as if looking for a way to change the subject. “Okay.”

  As he sipped his coffee, he considered the work he’d put into the kitchen, and wondered if she liked the simple, clean lines he favored. He tried to look at the room from a woman’s perspective. He guessed the windows needed curtains or blinds or something, but other than that he figured it looked fine.

  “Did you recently buy this place?”

  “No, I built it myself. I’ve been focused on finishing the upstairs rooms so I haven’t bought much in the way of furniture or other stuff.”

  Emma stared at him, eyes wide. “You built this house? It’s incredible.” She ran her hand over the stone countertop. “How did you install this? Does the stone come already polished, or did you do that yourself?”

  Brad watched her glide slender fingers over the surface. “I bought it polished but saved money by installing it myself.”

  “I love the color. What about the cabinets? They’re maple, aren’t they? Did they come preassembled, or did you build them?”

  Who’d have known that his house would be what it took to get her to let down her guard? “I made them myself. They turned out pretty well.”

  “You have a real eye for what goes together.” She peered through the green-tinted glass into a cabinet. “There’s nothing in there.”

  “Yeah, like I said, I haven’t gotten around to the little details. Like dishes. I can get by with a few pieces but I’m hard-pressed when I have company.”

  She gave him a genuine smile for the first time. It lit her face and warmed her gray eyes to smoke. Brad felt like he was falling with the ground rushing up to meet him.

  She seemed wary of his change in expression, straightening abruptly. “I should go. I have a lot of work to do.” She turned to the sink and rinsed her now empty mug.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” she added. “You probably saved my life.”

  “Anytime.” He opened a door at the far end of the kitchen. “We can go out this way. I’ll walk you back.”

  “No, I can find my way, Chief.” Emma moved toward him and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. In the narrow doorway, she paused, expression guarded.

  “My name is Brad, not ‘Chief.’”

  “Right.”

  “Emmaline.” His voice held warning.

  “Okay, okay. Brad. And nobody ever calls me Emmaline. I prefer Emma.”

  “Your grandfather called you Emmaline. It suits you.”

  She rolled her eyes, and he caught her scent, something citrusy, when she moved past him. He watched her until she disappeared along the curve of the trail.

  ***

  Emma planned to attack one cabin at a time. Clean it from top to bottom, make a list of any re
pairs to be done, and then another list of what was needed to stock it before renting. She was pounding nails into a loose board in the porch of Black Bear when she heard a car drive up. Stepping off the porch, she saw a small red compact parking next to her Toyota. Too small to be the vehicle from last night.

  Emma left the cabin to see who her visitor was this time.

  As she approached, a fine-boned, dark-haired woman stepped out of the car. She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved blouse buttoned at the wrists, which struck Emma as odd given the warm afternoon. The passenger door opened and a little boy of about five or six and with the same dark hair climbed out. The woman took him by the hand to walk toward the office.

  “May I help you?” Emma called.

  The woman stopped, said something to the boy, and then turned to Emma. She stood stiffly, her shoulders squared.

  “Ms. Kincaid?” At Emma’s nod she continued. “My name is Isadora Calderon, and this is my son Adrian.”

  Emma shook the woman’s hand. The child had a quiet, wary look about him that made her wonder. “What can I do for you, Ms. Calderon?”

  “Please, call me Dory.” The woman was younger than Emma by a few years, probably in her mid-twenties, and looked tightly controlled, as if holding herself together through sheer willpower. “I would like to know if you have a job available. Maddy at the café suggested I ask you. I’m a hard worker.” She hesitated. “The only thing is I need to have Adrian with me when he’s not in school. He won’t be any trouble.” She looked at Emma with unfathomable dark eyes.

  Emma had been around fear and desperation enough to recognize it when she saw it. She eyed the woman thoughtfully. “Honestly, I hadn’t considered hiring anyone quite yet. I’m on a pretty lean budget.”

  “But you’ll need help to get the cabins ready to rent for the summer, right? And I could work for room and board until you start having income. Adrian and I could live in one of the cabins.”

  “You’ve thought this through.” Emma felt torn. She remembered those anxious times with her mother, desperately miserable, waiting late at night to see if the clerk at some grimy motel would rent them a room. She sighed, drawn by this woman’s quiet dignity. “First, I need to know what kind of trouble you’re in.”

  The woman looked away, blinking rapidly. But when after a deep breath she turned back to Emma, her eyes were clear and direct. “I am getting myself out of trouble, Ms. Kincaid.”

  The little boy scuffed a small sneaker in the pine needles. Emma had an impression his ears were attuned to every word.

  “Call me Emma.” She cocked her head, mind working on the possibilities. With the extra help she might get the cabins ready to rent by the beginning of the summer season. If Dory was willing to work for room and board until money started coming in, it could work. She would make it work. “Okay, Dory. I’m willing to give it a try. We’ll give it a two-week trial period and then we’ll both reevaluate and see if the arrangement is working for both of us.”

  She looked down at the little boy, hand tightly gripping his mother’s. “Adrian, do you see those pinecones over there?” Emma pointed to an open area between some trees, then to a bucket on the porch. “Could you gather some in that bucket for me? I think we’ll be able to make nice decorations out of them.”

  He gave her a shy smile, then raced to get the bucket. Once he was out of earshot, Emma looked at his mother. “Dory, could someone come after you? Try to hurt you?” At the woman’s hesitation, Emma assured her. “I’m not asking to be nosy and it won’t keep me from hiring you, but I need to know so we can take precautions and be safe. So we can keep Adrian safe.”

  The woman stood straighter, her jaw firm. “I should have told you right off, so you would know before you offered me a job, because, yes, Adrian’s father, my husband, could come after us. Brad, the police chief? He warned Rodrigo to stay away and had me get a restraining order, but I know Rod could still come after me or try to get Adrian.” The look she aimed at Emma held cold anger.

  Emma understood perfectly. A restraining order likely meant there’d been domestic violence. Memories flooded, bringing flashbacks of being eight years old, with her mother standing in the door of their motel room, crying to a police officer that her boyfriend hadn’t meant to hit Emma. Trudy had pleaded with the officer not to take her little girl. Emma shook her head. There was no way she could turn this woman and her child away. “Why don’t we go check out Black Bear cabin and see what it needs so you and Adrian can move in.”

  Dory gave Emma a relieved smile. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Once sheets for Black Bear had been found, and the cabin scrubbed ruthlessly from top to bottom, both Emma and Dory agreed it was ready for them to move in. The little boy was thrilled with his new home and raced up and down the steps with pinecones to line the porch rail.

  Watching him stand a pinecone on its wide end, Emma grinned when Adrian looked shyly up at her. His smile showed a gap where two bottom teeth were missing. “I’m going to be a forest ranger when I grow up. My mom’s helping me learn the names of the trees from a book we got from the library so I’ll be ready.”

  Pleased he was past his reserve and talking to her, she responded, “A forest ranger is pretty cool. You would always be able to live in a beautiful place.”

  They both looked up when a Hangman’s Loss police SUV pulled in front of the office cabin. Emma ignored the feeling of let-down when it wasn’t Brad who stepped out of the vehicle. Seeing a strange officer, she pushed back on the frisson of alarm. She needed to get past her knee-jerk reaction to law enforcement. The officer, well over six foot and built like a linebacker, settled his trooper hat on his head. Catching sight of them at the cabin, he headed their way.

  “Oh, great.”

  Emma glanced over her shoulder to find Dory had joined them on the porch. The officer stopped in front of them, nodding at Emma. “Ma’am.” He turned to Dory. “Isadora.”

  Arms folded over her chest and the defiant lines on her face gave the clear indication that the man facing Dory wasn’t her favorite person. “Captain Morgan.”

  “Brad sent me to escort you to get your belongings.”

  Dory gave a snort. “Right. So if Rod is there, you’ll hang out, maybe have a beer?”

  The change in his expression was so slight that Emma wasn’t sure she’d seen it, but for a moment it looked like the dig had hit home. “Rod’s gone, but Brad thought you’d be less worried if you had protection.”

  Aware of undercurrents she didn’t understand, Emma spoke cautiously. “Dory, I can watch Adrian if you want to get your things.”

  Dory sighed. “Okay, part of me wants to leave everything behind, but that’s not practical.” She glanced at the officer. “Let’s go, Captain Morgan.”

  The sun had started to slide behind the granite peaks in the west when the police cruiser returned and parked in front of Black Bear cabin. Emma helped carry bins inside, while Adrian dove into the one set on his bed full of toys. Dory hefted the last plastic bin, following Captain Morgan up the porch steps. Spending a couple of hours together hadn’t calmed the tension lighting off sparks between the two. Emma had never seen two people more careful to avoid touching or, unless they absolutely had to, speaking to each other. With the SUV empty, the officer pulled his keys from his belt. When it became apparent Dory wasn’t going to say anything, Emma spoke. “Thank you, officer.”

  “It’s Jack, ma’am. Jack Morgan. Glad to help.” He cast a look at the silent Dory, then stepped out onto the porch. A minute later the roar of the engine starting filled the evening, gradually quieting as the vehicle disappeared up the road toward the highway.

  “Um, wow.”

  “Wow?”

  “Yeah, wow. Now I get that phrase about cutting tension with a knife. There are enough sparks between the two of you I thought I’d have to find a fire extinguisher.” She raised her brows. “Care to explain?”

  “We don’t like each other. Jack was Rod’s b
est friend through high school, and he’s always been prickly with me, like I wasn’t good enough for his friend. I think he blames me for what went on between me and Rod. Bastard.”

  “Has he done anything he shouldn’t have?”

  “No, it’s only a feeling, I guess.” Dory stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the stacks of bins along one wall. “I’ll deal with this tomorrow. I think I need fuel.”

  “Yay,” Emma cheered.

  Thirty minutes later, Emma, Dory, and Adrian were sitting in the little kitchen of the cabin eating grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup by the light of the camp lantern. The adults talked over ideas for a website and ways to promote the resort. Emma’s degree had been in marketing, and while she’d worked for an insurance company after college, she was glad for the opportunity to put her skills to work.

  Strange for her normally reserved self, Emma already felt like she was making a place for herself in the community of Hangman’s Loss. Maddy at the bakery had sent both Bert Morales and Dory her way. Maybe she and Dory were on their way to becoming friends. And she’d stop in at the bakery to give Maddy her thanks.

  The loneliness that had always been an integral part of her eased slightly.

  Chapter Five

  At eight o’clock on the dot Monday morning, Emma was at the power company filling out paperwork and writing a check for the deposit on electric service. Her next stop established a time for the landline to be connected. Once that was accomplished, she found where city hall was located and drove there to get a business license. Built on the edge of town, city hall incorporated the Western theme with its heavy wooden beams and split-rail fence. Emma paid special attention to the landscape design that incorporated native plants. Some of those plants would work around the cabins.

  Managing not to choke on the cost of the license, she wrote the check and felt pretty pleased with her morning accomplishments as she walked toward the tall glass doors that led outside. She pulled up short when she heard a deep voice call to her. Brad crossed the lobby to join her, and when he opened the door, she followed him outside into the sunshine.