“YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.”

Someone wants to stop Becki Graw from claiming her inheritance. Police officer Joshua Rayne is just as determined to keep his beautiful neighbor safe. She may not be the tomboy Josh remembers, but she’s just as stubborn. Becki is intent on keeping her grandparents’ remote farmhouse—no matter the danger. Becki’s feelings for her childhood crush may be rekindled, but she’s seen too much to risk opening her heart. As the threats against Becki escalate, the list of suspects grows longer. Josh must convince Becki to trust him with her heart—and her life—before a madman ends their chance at happiness...permanently.

“When did you get this?”

Becki caught Josh’s arm long enough to get a look at the note. “It was in the mailbox when I got here. Courtesy of my sister.”

Josh frowned. “Why would she say you don’t belong here?”

“Because if I sell, she thinks she’ll get more money.”

“Who else knew you were moving in today?”

“I don’t know.” Becki rubbed her worsening headache. “My boss, my roommate, my mom.”

“No one from around here?”

“Not that I know of. Like I told my sister, I’m here to stay.”

Josh sat beside Becki on the sofa, and her heart jumped at the touch of his knee. “Who else might have sent this note?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…who didn’t want you moving here badly enough to attack you?”

She dug her fingers into the seat cushion. “You think the note and the incident in the barn are connected?”

Obviously he did. Which meant whoever was slinking around the property had been expecting her.

SANDRA ORCHARD

hails from the beautiful countryside of Niagara, Ontario, where inspiration abounds for her romantic suspense novels—not that she runs into any bad guys, but because her imagination is free to run as wild as her Iditarod-wannabe husky. Sandra lives with her real-life hero husband, who happily provides both romantic and suspense inspiration, as long as it doesn’t involve poisons and his dinner. But her truest inspiration comes from the Lord, in the beauty of a sunrise over the field and the whisper of a breeze, in the antics of a killdeer determined to safeguard its nest and the faithfulness of the seasons. She enjoys writing stories that both keep the reader guessing and reveal God’s love and faithfulness through the lives of her characters.

Sandra loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website, or at www.Facebook.com/SandraOrchard or c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Fatal Inheritance

Sandra Orchard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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You will be consoled when you see their conduct and their actions, for you will know that I have done nothing in it without cause.

—Ezekiel 14:23

To my stepsister, Rebecca-Becki-Bec, for letting me borrow all her names.

With special thanks to Karen and Alf Acres for giving me a ride in their “horseless carriage” and answering all my antique car questions, along with Albert Unrau. Also to my wonderful critique buddies, Eileen, Laurie, Vicki and Wenda, who help smooth all the story’s rough edges. And to the NRP officers who tirelessly answer my police questions.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

At the sight of her grandparents’ old farmhouse, with its wide front porch and empty rocking chairs, Becki Graw blinked back bittersweet tears. All her life she’d longed to live in Serenity’s beautiful countryside, but not like this. She stopped at the roadside mailbox and grabbed the mail—a single letter addressed to her. No return address.

That’s strange. Who would know to write to her here? She slid her thumb under the flap and pulled out the single typewritten page.

You don’t belong here.

Her heart jolted at the cold, black words. Who—

She crushed the note in her fist. Sarah. Becki floored the gas and veered into the driveway, then punched her sister’s number on her cell phone.

Sarah answered on the first ring.

“You’ve sunk to new lows,” Becki fumed.

“I warned you I’d go to the lawyer if you didn’t agree to sell and split everything fifty-fifty. You should’ve listened to me.”

Becki ground to a stop in front of the white two-story willed to her by Gran and Gramps. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t left her sister anything. She’d gotten most of the liquid assets, not to mention all the financial help when her husband was in law school. Even if Becki sold the house, Sarah probably wouldn’t come out that much further ahead.

While Becki would lose the only place that had ever felt like home.

She looked at the darkened windows and empty porch and swallowed a rush of grief. “I’m talking about the note.”

“What note? I didn’t send any note.”

“Right. Because people are lining up to scare me out of here.”

To think she’d once idolized her beautiful older sister. No more. At twenty-seven, Becki could finally see Sarah for who she really was—a spoiled trophy wife as materialistic and money-grubbing as her flashy lawyer husband. “Gran and Gramps wanted this house to stay in the family, and I’m here to stay whether you like it or not.” Becki punched the power button and jumped from her packed-to-the-roof car.

Inhaling the sweet scent of summer in Ontario’s farm country, she shoved Sarah’s threats from her mind and turned to the home she loved so dearly.

If only the carbon-monoxide detector had worked the way it was supposed to, Gran and Gramps would be bustling outside to wrap her in their arms this very moment.

Becki scrunched her eyes closed as memories flooded her mind. Swinging from the barn loft into a pile of hay. Fishing in the creek with Gramps. Collecting fragrant bouquets of bouncing bets for Gran. Her summers here had been her happiest. More than once she’d begged to be allowed to live here always.

But not like this—not without them. She pressed her arm against the ache in her chest.

The sun dipped behind the trees with a splash of brilliant reds and purples as if Gramps himself was painting a welcome-home banner across the sky.

I can do this. I want to do this.

Let Sarah call her crazy for quitting her admin job and giving up the lease on her apartment. So what if she’d never find a husband in the boonies? Maybe she didn’t want one. If Sarah’s and Mom’s unhappy marriage experiences were anything to go by, she was better off single.

Besides, Sarah didn’t really care whether Becki found a husband or a decent job in Serenity. All she cared about was squeezing more inheritance out of their grandparents’ estate.

Indignant-sounding meows drifted from the weathered hipped-roof barn behind the house.

Kittens! Memories of laughter-filled afternoons playing with each summer’s new litter propelled her feet toward the barn. The light was fading fast, but from the way Mama Cat carried on, Becki would have no trouble finding them.

The meowing stopped.

She hurried past the enormous sliding door and pushed through the regular door next to it.

A flight of barn swallows swooped out a hole in the roof.

She paused while her eyes adjusted to the dim light slanting through the gaps in the weathered boards.

A yowl sounded from the back of the barn, but instead of a cat, her gaze lit on Gramps’s 1913 Cadillac. Oh, wow! How could she have forgotten about Gramps’s antique in here?

She drew in a deep breath. Now it was hers, along with everything else at the farm.

Sadness gripped her. Riding in the old car wouldn’t be the same without Gramps at the wheel. She just wanted her grandparents back.

She picked her way around the farm implements, her gaze tracking to the car every few seconds. How she’d loved riding with Gran and Gramps, all dressed up in old-fashioned clothes, to the church’s anniversary Sunday celebration.

Becki danced her fingers over the hood and marveled at how little dust coated it even after all these weeks. Gramps had always taken such pride in keeping it polished.

A soft mew whispered from the shadows.

Grateful for the distraction, Becki rounded the car. “Here, kitty.”

A thunk sounded behind her.

Heart pounding, she whirled on her heel.

A puff of dust floated up from around a block of wood on the floor.

She peered up at the hayloft, thinking a cat must have knocked it down. The dust and smell of moldy hay scratched her lungs.

Movement flashed in her peripheral vision. Something big. Much bigger than a cat.

She ducked behind an upturned wheelbarrow and squinted into the shadows. “Hello.” She took a deep breath, forced her voice louder. “Anyone there?”

A faint echo taunted her.

She strained to listen for movement, but she couldn’t hear anything over the roar of blood pulsing past her ears. She edged around the wheelbarrow and scanned the other direction.

Something shuffled behind her.

She spun toward the sound. “Who’s there?”

A figure lunged out of the shadows, swinging a hunk of wood.

She thrust up her arms.

The wood glanced off and slammed into the side of her head.

White light exploded in her vision. She dropped to her knees, tasting blood. The ground rushed toward her.

Swishing whispered past her ears as blackness swallowed her.

* * *

Becki gripped her pounding head. What happened?

She opened one eye. The sight of a strange, shadowy room jerked her fully awake. Unfamiliar smells assaulted her. Dirt. And...

She froze. Now she remembered. Gramps’s barn. Someone had hit her.

She lifted her head a few inches and waited for the ringing in her ears to subside. She rolled onto her back and peered up at the loft. Was that where he’d been hiding?

Out of nowhere a beam of light flashed over the hood of the car.

She swallowed a scream.

The beam jigged across the barn wall, casting ghoulish shadows.

Hide. She had to hide. Pain rocketed through her head the instant she tried to rise. Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself away from the car—the first place he’d look. Only...why’d he leave, then come back?

She shrank behind an old tractor tire. The reason couldn’t be good.

* * *

“Bec? You in here?” Joshua Rayne called into his neighbor’s barn.

A gasp came from somewhere in the shadows.

He rushed forward. “Bec?”

“Over here.”

Josh jerked his flashlight beam toward the tentative response. Bec sat huddled behind a tractor tire, her face chalky-white.

Lowering the beam, he hurried to her. “What happened? Why are you hiding back here?”

“You scared me.”

His heart kicked at the crack in her voice. “I’m sorry.” He clasped her hand. Her fingers were far more delicate than those of the freckled tomboy she’d been the last time he’d found her hiding in this barn. He tugged her to her feet. “I saw the barn door open and—”

She swayed and clutched her head.

“What’s wrong?” He directed his flashlight beam toward her face.

Shielding her eyes, she leaned back against the tractor tire with a moan and soothed her swollen lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “Someone hit me.”

“Hit you?” Apparently that car he’d seen hightail it out of the farmer’s lane a minute ago hadn’t been just a couple of teens looking for a place to park as he’d supposed. He scanned her head for signs of trauma. “Are you okay?”

She pushed his light away. “I will be when you get that out of my eyes.”

Josh redirected his flashlight to the floor.

A four-foot length of timber lay on the ground a few feet away.

“Did you see who hit you?”

“I just saw a shadowy figure.”

“Tall? Short? Fat? Skinny?”

“I don’t know.” Bec clutched her head again. “Your average-size shadow.”

He needed to get her inside and check her over properly. Irritability could be a sign of a concussion. He quickly swept his flashlight in widening circles. “Why’d you come in here in the dark?”

“I heard cats meowing and hoped to find kittens.”

Of course. Same old Becki.

She stepped past him and stroked the hood of her grandfather’s old Cadillac. “Then I saw Gramps’s car.”

At the emotion in her voice, Josh’s breath hitched. Her grandfather had had a way of making troubles seem not so bad. The hours he and Josh had spent together tinkering on the “old gal” had been a lifeline after his mother had up and left Serenity without so much as a backward glance. But he couldn’t help Josh through this loss.

Josh forced his mind back to the present, to his police training. “Did you hear or see anything that could help us identify who hit you?”

She started to shake her head, then winced.

Josh resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders and instead directed his flashlight at the items a thief might have been after. Nothing appeared to be missing, but he couldn’t be sure until daylight.

Misty twined herself around his legs, purring. He lifted her into his arms and scratched her chin. “I guess you’re looking for your supper, huh?” He turned to Bec, remembering how much she’d adored the cats as a kid. “I’ve been feeding them since your grandparents...” He lowered Misty to the ground and let the explanation trail off rather than dredge up her loss. He pointed his flashlight at a box beneath the car. “The kittens are under there.”

Her delighted squeal tugged a grin to his lips—his first since finding her grandparents’ lifeless bodies.

He tugged the box out from under the car.

Bec sat cross-legged on the floor and gathered the kittens into her arms.

Josh chuckled. She hadn’t changed a bit. For all her tomboy ways, she was still a soft touch. He gave Misty fresh food and water and then looked around as best he could without leaving Bec in total darkness. If only the barn had overhead lighting, he might find some clue as to who she’d surprised. Most likely kids out for a lark. He hadn’t recognized the car he’d spotted as belonging to any of their usual troublemakers. He wished he’d gotten the license plate number.

Josh let his gaze settle back on Bec. Seeing her delight in the wiggling kittens, he could almost feel the years strip away to when they were both kids and life was carefree.

She winced, her forehead creasing.

“Hey, we’d better get you inside. Take a look at that bump. You might need to see a doctor.”

A frown curved her lips, but she returned the kittens to the box and pushed it back under the car, which told him more than words would how lousy she felt. When she was a kid, not even promises of chocolate cake and ice cream had been incentive enough to drag her away from the squirming fur balls.

He didn’t miss the way she braced her hand on the car fender to pull herself up, either. He moved to her side and, lighting the floor ahead of them, guided her with a light touch to the small of her back. “Do you feel nauseous?”

“A little. But I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Outside the barn, he steered her toward his place. “Did you lose consciousness after you were hit?”

“I’m not sure. I think, maybe. Everything went black for a second or two.”

“You probably have a concussion. I can do a few tests to see if you should go to the hospital.”

She walked a little taller. “I’m fine really. I just need a couple of painkillers. All the doctor’s going to do is tell me to go home and take it easy.”

“Humor me.”

She squinted up at him, then at the tree line that separated their properties and abruptly stopped. “Hey, where are you taking me?”

“To my house. You said you hadn’t eaten, right?”

“You don’t have to feed me.”

“You’re in no condition to cook. Besides, it’ll be nice to have someone to eat with.” Life had been too quiet around here since her grandparents’ deaths.

“I don’t want to put you out,” she protested.

He nudged her forward. “It’s no imposition.”

She wavered a moment but soon started walking again. “Gramps told me you took over your parents’ place after your dad died. Did you still tinker with Gramps on the old car?”

“Yup. Went with them on one of those organized tours they were always taking, too. Saw some cool places most tourists don’t get to see.”

“I wish I could’ve gone on one. Gramps said he’d take me when I turned thirteen, but that’s when Mom left Dad, and I never got to come back for any more summers.”

He steered her around his truck in the driveway. “Yeah, come to think of it, life got pretty quiet around here without you girls.”

She swatted him.

He let out an oomph and clutched his gut.

“Very funny.”

He smiled to himself and mentally ticked off two of his concussion tests. Nothing wrong with Bec’s memory or her aim.

He led her to the side of the house and pulled out his key. “Feel like a steak?”

“Yuck.”

“You’re kidding? You still prefer a burger to steak?”

“Yup.”

He pushed open the door, flicked on the light and motioned her in ahead of him. “What a cheap date. Guys must love you.”

She squirmed past him into the kitchen, then hesitated, her gaze flagging about, pausing briefly on his Home Is Where the Heart Is plaque, then stealing his way. She looked more uneasy than a suspect in custody.

But unlike with his suspects, he felt strangely sad seeing her this way. “Have a seat at the table while I light the barbecue.” He returned a moment later to find her nuzzling his three-legged pooch.

She spluttered at its exuberant kisses and wiped off the slobber with the back of her hand. “What’s his name?”

“Tripod.”

“I should have guessed. He moves amazingly quick for having only three legs.”

Josh filled Tripod’s dish, and the pooch demonstrated just how quick. “While the barbecue heats up, let’s take a look at this bump of yours.”

She finger combed her hair as if only just realizing how messy it was.

He resisted the urge to tease. Her honey-brown corkscrew curls had always poked out every which way and been peppered with hay or leaves or twigs, depending on where she’d last played.

Dropping her hand, she fidgeted under his perusal. “That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

He didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Show me where you got hit.”

She leaned forward and pointed to the back of her head.

He palpated the area. Her hair was incredibly soft and smelled faintly like citrus. “That’s some goose egg.” He reached into his catchall drawer and pulled out a penlight. “Look at me.”

Her shimmering brown eyes turned to him, framed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen. Natural, too.

Her head tilted. “You planning to do something with that light?”

“Patience,” he muttered at being caught staring. He flicked the penlight on and flashed it across each eye. “They look good. Equal and reactive.”

“Why, thank you, Josh,” she drawled, batting those long lashes. “That’s the most romantic thing a man’s ever said about my eyes.”

“What?” He blinked, glimpsed her smirk and gave her a nudge. “You’re cute, Bec.” He tossed the penlight back into the drawer. “Now, stand up, arms out from your sides, and touch each hand to your nose.”

She stood and obeyed his directions effortlessly.

“Okay, take a seat.” He opened the cupboard next to the sink and grabbed a glass and the bottle of painkillers. He tipped two from the bottle, filled the glass with water and handed them to Bec. “Take these, and if you want, you can lie down on the sofa until supper’s ready.”

She planted her palms on the table and pushed to her feet. “I can’t let you cook alone,” she protested, then immediately clutched the side of her head.

“As stubborn as ever, I see.” He scooped her into his arms and gently lowered her onto the sofa. “Rest. That’s an order.”

He turned on his heel and did his best to ignore the scent that lingered on his shirt, as it had after their embrace at the funeral home. “I’ll get those burgers grilling.”

She didn’t argue, which worried him. She’d always been a tough kid. Unless she’d changed dramatically in the past fifteen years, whoever had walloped the back of her head had done a serious number on her. Maybe he should ask his sister to come by after her shift at the hospital and check Bec over. It’d be easier than convincing Bec to go there.

He texted Anne a request to stop by and then pulled out the fixings for a decent supper. Sliced potatoes and onions. Peppers, carrots and zucchini for grilling. He dug through the freezer and unburied a couple of burgers that looked more like frozen hockey pucks. Forget it. She could learn to appreciate the good stuff. He tossed the burgers back into the freezer and pulled out a couple of filet mignons.

An hour later, he’d just set the last dish on the table when she meandered to the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

“Dinner is served.” He pulled out a chair and waited for her to take a seat. To humor her, he’d put her steak on a hamburger bun and brought out the mustard and ketchup. If she noticed the ruse, she didn’t comment.

He took the seat opposite her. “How do you feel now?”

“Hungry. This smells amazing.”

He opted to let her nonanswer go. For now. His sister would be there soon enough. He reached across the table and clasped Bec’s hand.

Her eyes widened.

“Let’s pray,” he said quickly, not sure what to make of her reaction. He bowed his head. “Lord, we pray for Your healing touch on Bec and that You’ll comfort her in her grief. Thank You for giving her a safe journey here and for this food and time together. Amen.” When Josh lifted his gaze, she was still staring at him, moisture pooling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“No one’s prayed for me like that since...Gran and Gramps. I...guess I’d forgotten how nice it felt.”

His throat tightened. She’d still have them if only... He gave her hand a warm squeeze. “Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Bec set down her “burger” and reached for her fork. “What happened to the huge trailer Gramps usually kept the car in?”

“That’s over at Pete’s Garage. Your grandfather had some trouble with the car during the last tour he and your Gran took, so while we worked on finding the problem, he sent in the trailer to have the bearings repacked. I can give Pete a call. Ask him to bring it by.”

“I’m just amazed how clean the car stayed sitting out like that. There wasn’t a bird dropping on it.”

A steak morsel lodged in Josh’s throat. He coughed, swallowed hard. “You mean you didn’t pull off the canvas cover?”

“No.”

He set down his knife and fork. He’d just assumed... He clenched his fist. A rookie mistake. After the front-page article the newspaper had run last week about the Graws, every would-be thief in three counties would’ve pegged the whole place as easy pickings until the new owner arrived. But if her assailant had come for the car...

“Are you telling me that Gramps didn’t leave it uncovered?”

Josh surged to his feet and paced to the window that overlooked the rear of the Graw property. Her arrival wouldn’t deter a car thief. He’d have to keep a close watch on the place.

And pray this guy didn’t return when Bec was home alone.

* * *

Becki shrank into the corner of Josh’s couch as he debated with his nurse sister whether she needed to see a doctor.

Even dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt, his furrowed brow radiating concern, he exuded a powerful presence. Not to mention he’d grown more handsome than ever. His dark hair no longer curled at his temple the way she remembered, but the trimmed look and broader shoulders reflected a strength and integrity that had clearly deepened in the past fifteen years.

How cruel could God be to let Joshua Rayne find her cowering in the barn as if she was still a twelve-year-old kid?

The kid who’d had a hopeless crush on him—a sixteen-year-old boy who’d had eyes only for her gorgeous older sister.

Not that she’d ever admit to having a crush. Bad enough that she’d tumbled into his arms at the funeral.

Never mind that she’d been a wreck and that when Josh had reached for her hand in the reception line, she’d known, without stopping to think, that he understood her sorrow.

She hugged a sofa pillow to her chest. He hadn’t hesitated a second before wrapping her in his arms, which should’ve been her first clue that he was still playing the protective big brother. At the time, she’d barely registered his whispered reassurances. The grief had been too raw. But now...

She pushed the pillow away. She did not want him thinking she was a helpless female who couldn’t take care of herself.

“Can you recite the months of the year in reverse order for me?” his sister asked.

Becki did, then turned back to Josh. “See. I’m fine.”

“Concussions can suddenly take a turn for the worse,” he argued, holding out his hand for her car keys. “Can’t they, Anne?”

“She’s agreed to stay already!” Anne snatched up Becki’s car keys and slapped them into Josh’s hand. “Go get her suitcase so we can finish the tests in peace.” Her eyes were twinkling when she turned back to Becki. “Just humor him for me, okay? I’m getting a free oil change out of the deal.”

“No way! He bribed you to stay the night?”

Anne giggled. “Not exactly. I offered...in exchange for the oil change. He would’ve done it anyway, but this way we set his mind at ease about your condition and I don’t have to drive the car back until morning.”

“What about your husband? Won’t he mind if you don’t come home?”

“Not married.”

“But...” Becki pointed to the wedding band on Anne’s finger.

Anne splayed her fingers and smirked. “That’s to keep the doctors and patients from hitting on me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Now, stand on one foot, hands on hips, eyes closed, until I say stop.”

Becki did as she was told. “I’m surprised Josh hasn’t married yet. When I was here as a kid, there was no shortage of girls mooning over him.” Her younger self included, but Anne didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, well. He never got over being rejected in favor of life in the big city.”

Was Anne talking about Becki’s sister? He’d had it bad for her that last summer they were here, and Sarah hadn’t discouraged him, even though she was two years older.

“He escaped to the military after that,” Anne went on. “Hasn’t dated much since coming back. The pickings are slim around here, and he won’t dare date a wannabe city girl.”

Considering how the city had changed Sarah, Josh was probably smart to hold out for a country girl.

Anne jotted something on her notepad. “Now tell me all the words you can remember from that list I gave you earlier.”

Becki repeated them all. “Now do you believe me?”

“How’s your headache? Any worse? Feeling dizzy?”

“It still hurts, but no and no.”

“All right, yes, I think you’ll be fine, but don’t tell Josh. It’s nice to see him fretting over someone else for a change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Um.” She bit her lip and glanced toward the door as if he might burst through at any moment. “He’d kill me if I told you.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Becki drawled, remembering how often her own sister used to preface her secrets with a similar remark. How she missed those days.

“Maybe you could help him stop being so hard on himself,” Anne whispered.

“Me?” Becki caught one of her curls, tugging it straight. “Why would he listen to me?”

Becki didn’t know what to make of the expression that flitted across Anne’s face. Perhaps if she knew her better, but she’d never really met her before today. She’d heard Josh had an older sister, but she’d never been around.

Anne leaned forward and clasped Becki’s hand the same way she had when she’d first arrived and expressed her condolences. “Josh feels responsible for your grandparents’ deaths.”

Becki stiffened.

Anne must have felt it, because she quickly added, “He’s not. But your grandfather had complained the day before he died about having a headache, and Josh thinks he should have suspected a carbon-monoxide leak. As if people never get headaches for any other reason!”

Numbness crept over Becki’s limbs. “Gramps never got headaches.”

“Please don’t remind Josh. He’s already beating himself up enough over not questioning that. I mean, your grandparents had a carbon-monoxide detector. And it was the middle of summer. Whoever heard of a hot-water tank causing carbon monoxide?”

The screen door slammed shut, and Josh strode into the room.

Becki and Anne sprang apart, but Josh didn’t seem to notice. He dropped her suitcase at her feet and waved a note in front of her face. “When did you get this?”

She caught his arm long enough to get a look at the paper. “It was in the mailbox when I got here.” She squared her jaw and fought to keep her tone even. “Courtesy of my sister.”

He frowned. “Why would she say you don’t belong here?”

“Because if I sell, she thinks she’ll get more money.”

Anne picked up the envelope that had fluttered to the floor. “Where does your sister live?”

“Toronto.”

Anne flapped the envelope against her palm. “The stamp on this envelope was never canceled. It looks like someone hand delivered it.”

Josh took the envelope from her. “You’re right.” He passed it to Becki.

So Sarah hadn’t been lying. Unless... “She could’ve asked someone to put it in the mailbox for her.”

“Who else knew you were moving in today?”

“I don’t know.” Becki rubbed her worsening headache. “My boss, my roommate, my mom.”

“No one from around here?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Could be those developers,” Anne chimed in.

“What developers?”

Josh blew out a breath and paced. “A conglomerate of investors who want to see our farmland turned into subdivisions and shopping malls.” His scathing tone told her exactly what he thought about their plans. “Have they approached you with an offer to buy?”

“No!” Becki folded her arms over her chest. “Even if they had, I wouldn’t sell to them.”

Josh nodded, his expression grim. “The trouble is you couldn’t trust anyone who offered to buy the place not to turn around and pass it on to the developers for a tidy commission.”

“Well, like I told my sister, I’m here to stay.” Sarah had hated being dumped here every summer. Unlike her big sister, Becki didn’t have a life to speak of in the city, and she wouldn’t miss it in the least. She happened to like the slower pace of rural living. Maybe she’d even start writing again in her spare time.

“Where will you work?” Anne asked.

“Huh?” Becki shook her sister’s voice from her head and focused on Anne. “I haven’t figured that out yet. But I’m sure I can find something before my savings run out.”

Anne let out a sigh. “Not many new jobs around since the economic downturn.”

“Never mind that for now.” Josh sat beside Becki on the sofa, and her heart jumped at the touch of his knee. “Who else might have sent this note?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...who didn’t want you moving here badly enough to attack you?”

She dug her fingers into the seat cushion. “You think the note and incident in the barn are connected?”

Obviously he did. Which meant whoever was slinking around the property had been expecting her.

TWO

What would Sarah say if she saw her now, sleeping under Josh’s roof?

Well, trying to sleep. Becki flopped over in the unfamiliar bed. Shafts of moonlight shone through the edges of the drapes, highlighting a pair of 4-H trophies perched on the bookcase of Josh’s old bedroom.

Her sister would probably feel bad to learn that Josh never got over her. That is...if Sarah was who Anne had meant. Maybe not, since he’d still had a couple of years of high school left after their last summer visit. But he’d sure had it bad for her then.

Becki rolled over and punched the pillow. She didn’t want to think of Josh mooning over her sister, especially considering how unreasonable Sarah had been acting lately. Despite her denials, she must’ve sent that note. Who else?

The two of them were the only living relatives.

Josh was blowing the whole situation way out of proportion. The note and prowler couldn’t be connected. She’d probably just surprised a couple of teens who were afraid of getting caught fooling around in Gramps’s car. As a cop Josh must see that sort of thing all the time.

But then why was he getting so worked up?

Josh feels responsible for your grandparents’ deaths.

Becki’s heart clenched. That had to be why Josh wasn’t taking any chances.

If only he’d...

She squashed the wishful thinking. If she let her thoughts go there, she’d never get to sleep.

Closing her eyes, she tried not to think at all. An hour later, she was still awake.

A glass of milk might help. She listened for sounds of Anne and Josh still milling about. Hearing none, she pulled on her bathrobe and stole downstairs.

The computer and desk lamp were on in the otherwise darkened living room, but there was no sign of Josh.

She tiptoed to the desk to see what he’d been working on. His internet browser was open to a page about an antique-car theft. Did Josh really think some sort of theft ring had targeted Gramps’s car?

She skimmed the article but couldn’t see any similarities between that theft and her situation.

A beam of light flashed across the window.

She flicked off the desk lamp and peered past the curtain.

A tall figure disappeared around the corner of the house.

Was that Josh?

The kitchen door banged open.

She shrank deeper into the shadows. It had to be Josh. An intruder wouldn’t be so noisy. The glow of the computer screen cast eerie shadows on the walls.

Tripod bounded into the room, tongue lolling, followed by Josh, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “Hey, Hunter, can I borrow your game cameras for a couple of weeks?” He walked to the desk and flicked on the lamp. His gaze abruptly veered her way. As his eyes landed on her bare toes, his eyes widened, then quickly traveled up to her flaming cheeks.

“Huh?” He half turned and lowered his voice.

“Yeah, the one with night vision and motion trigger,” Josh muttered into the phone. “No, not animals.” He pushed back a corner of the curtain and stared out into the deep blackness of the country night. “I’m looking to catch a human.”

A human! Becki tugged her bathrobe together more tightly. Why hadn’t she stayed in bed?

At least there she could have blissfully deluded herself into imagining there was nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

Becki woke early the next morning. She might have let Josh evade her questions last night, but today she intended to get answers. She dressed quickly and tiptoed to the stairs. Halfway down, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee greeted her, reminding her that early had a whole other meaning in farm country. She should’ve paid more attention to that rooster crowing before the crack of dawn.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Anne chirped as Becki meandered into the sunbathed kitchen. Anne handed her a mug of coffee. “How’s the head?”

“Good.” If she didn’t count the gazillion questions that had raced around it all night after overhearing Josh’s plan to catch her prowler. “Josh doing chores?”

“They’re long done. He only has chickens to feed these days. He’s changing my oil. Probably almost done with that, too.”

“Will he have to do anything in the fields today?”

“No, he doesn’t farm.” Anne set a covered platter on the table. “The farmer down the road rents the land.”

“But I thought... Josh always talked about running the farm one day.”

“Sometimes childhood dreams don’t look so rosy when you grow up.”

Becki sank into a chair. Her sister had said the same thing. She stiffened her spine. Gran and Gramps’s farm was the only place she’d ever felt truly happy. Sure, it wouldn’t be the same without them, but she couldn’t bear to lose it, too.

“By the time Josh resigned from the military,” Anne continued, “Dad had sold off too much of the farm for Josh to make it profitable again.”

Becki envisioned him wrestling down a burly drug dealer instead of an ornery cow. “So that’s why Josh became a cop?”

“He wanted—”

“To serve and protect,” Josh finished for his sister as he strode into the kitchen and plopped a small cage on the counter.

The “criminal” he’d protected them from emitted a tiny peep, and Becki couldn’t help but giggle.

“What have you rescued this time?” Anne peered around his shoulder.

He stepped aside, allowing them both to see. A tiny sparrow with a broken wing huddled in a corner of the hamster cage.

“Oh, the poor thing.” Becki snagged a piece of toast from the breakfast Anne had spread on the table and sprinkled crumbs into the cage. “Where did you find it?”

Anne rolled her eyes. “The strays always seem to find him.”

“What am I supposed to do? Ignore them?”

His sister tipped onto her toes and planted a kiss on Josh’s cheek. “Nope, you’d never. That’s why I love you.”

Josh pulled Anne into a fierce hug, revealing a depth of feeling that caught at Becki’s heart. His eyes lifted to hers. More brown than green this morning, they held a warm familial affection that Becki could only dream of now that Gran and Gramps were gone.

Anne ducked out of his arms and grabbed her purse from the counter. “If my car’s done, I need to go. Enjoy your breakfast.” Anne shook a finger at Becki. “And no heavy lifting. If you get dizzy or your headache persists, have a doctor check you over.”

“I will. Thank you.”

After seeing his sister out, Josh lifted the lid from a pan of bacon and eggs on the table. “Shall we?”

“Farm-fresh eggs. Mmm. I haven’t had a breakfast like this since the last time I visited Gran and Gramps. Your sister outdid herself.”

Josh spooned out a plateful of scrambled eggs and bacon. “She likes to stay on my good side so I’ll keep her car running.”

“I think you’d do it anyway. You always loved to work on cars.”

“Shh, don’t let her hear you say that.” He raised a jug of OJ. “Juice?”

“Uh, sure.” Suddenly Becki’s insides felt as scrambled as her eggs. To think she was sharing breakfast with Joshua Rayne!

Not only was he more handsome than she remembered; he was as kind as ever. She bet the three-legged dog had been another rescue effort.

She fiddled with her silverware. Obviously the blow to her head had crippled her common sense for her to be thinking up more reasons to still have a crush on the guy. She stabbed at her eggs. It wasn’t as if she would ever be anything more to him than another needy stray.

Her mind flailed about for another topic of conversation. “Funny that I don’t remember you fussing over animals as a teen. That was more my domain.” She struggled to restrain the smile that suddenly tugged at her lips. “Seems to me you were more interested in fussing over my sister.”

He choked on his orange juice.

She batted her eyelashes ever so innocently. “Am I wrong?”

He tipped back his head and laughed. “Nothing got by you.”

Becki shrugged. “If not for you, I doubt Sarah could have stood being away from the malls for two whole months.”

“Not at all like you. You were a farm kid through and through.” Amusement danced in Josh’s green-brown eyes.

The color reminded her of the grassy meadows she’d loved to run through as a child. “No. Not like me.” She shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth and then focused on buttering her toast and the non-Joshua reasons she loved being in Serenity. “If Sarah had her way, I wouldn’t stay.”

“These old houses can be a lot of work to upkeep.”

Her butter knife halted midspread. “You don’t think I should stay, either?”

“Not at all. The Becki Graw I remember could do anything she set her mind to.”

“Thank you. That hasn’t changed. So why don’t you tell me about your plan to catch my prowler?”

“Finish up your breakfast, and I’ll show you.”

Becki finished before Josh and started on the dishes.

“Leave those,” he said, tossing the dog his last piece of bacon. “I’ll wash them later.”

“Nonsense. I’ve put you out enough.”

He reached around her and dropped his plate into the soapy water, his outdoorsy scent teasing her nostrils. “No imposition. I enjoyed the company.” He picked up a tea towel and began drying. The graze of his hand as he reached for the mug she’d just rinsed unleashed a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

Oh, boy. She seriously needed to get over this schoolgirl crush. She’d seen enough failed marriages to know they never lasted.

Marriage? She shook her head. Clearly, no worries there. In Josh’s eyes, she was still little Becki. She let the water out of the sink and pictured her silly girlhood crush swirling down the drain.

Little Becki grew up a long time ago...the day her parents had announced their divorce.

“Okay, let’s go.” She dried her hands on the edge of his towel. “Show me what you plan to do with those cameras. I need to start unpacking.”

He tossed the towel on the back of the chair and reached over her head to hold open the door. Tripod raced past and out ahead of them. “I’ll carry your boxes into the house.”

“No need. I can handle them.”

“You heard what my sister said.” Josh’s stern tone dared her to argue. “No heavy lifting for a few days.” He led the way to the barn, where he stopped and scanned the nearby trees. “I’m going to set up a couple of motion-triggered cameras so if your car thief comes back, we’ll catch him in the act.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll arrest him for trespassing and attempted robbery and whatever else I can think of.”

“Hmm.” She grinned. “Pretty handy having a police officer for a neighbor.”

His expression sobered. “No telling what time of day or night this guy might show up. If I’m not around, call nine-one-one and stay locked in the house. Don’t try to confront him.”

“Don’t you think he’d run off if he realized he’d been spotted?”

“Some guys would just as soon shoot a witness as run away.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to scare me?”

“Prepare you.” Tripod bounded up to them, barking happily. “Maybe we should get you a dog.”

Her heart leaped at the suggestion. “What a great idea. I’ve always wanted one. Maybe a big lovable golden retriever who—”

“The idea is to get a dog that will scare a robber off, not show him to the silver.”

She laughed. “Oh, like Tripod here?”

“Yeah.” Josh tousled the scruff on the dog’s neck. “He’s not what you want.”

“I like him. He’s sweet.”

“Sweet won’t scare away a prowler.” Josh rolled open the barn’s big sliding door. “And you definitely have one. I found a couple of footprints.” He pointed to the dirt-crusted floor. “See those? Too big for your grandparents or you, and the tread pattern doesn’t match anything I wear.”

“You were already over here this morning?”

“The sun rises early.” He winked.

For the first time she noticed dark shadows under his eyes. Had he even gone to sleep last night?

An hour after she’d headed back up to bed the night before, she’d heard the screen door clap shut and figured he was doing another scan of her grandparents’ property. Her property. That trek probably hadn’t been the only one.

A cat bolted from the corner of the barn, and Tripod took off after it.

“Won’t see him for a while.” Josh strode toward the car, which sparkled in the sunlight beaming through the gaps in the boarded walls. “It looks like the guy gave the car a thorough going-over. Both the gear stick and emergency brake lever had been shifted. The toolbox under the seat had been rifled through. Looking for a key, maybe. Best-case scenario, it was a kid playing around.” His tone sounded grim.

“But you don’t think so?”

He shook his head. “I dusted for fingerprints on the door handles, gear shift and steering wheel. They were clean.”

“Clean? As in not even Gramps’s prints were on them?” She failed to keep the wobble out of her voice. No prints meant someone had wiped them away.

“Your grandfather was pretty meticulous about keeping it polished. But kids don’t usually think to wear gloves. Not in the middle of summer.”

She swallowed, forcing calm into her voice this time. “So worst case?” She opened the passenger door, and memories of riding proudly around town with her gramps flooded her thoughts.

“If it’s a professional, he’s got to realize he wouldn’t get far driving this thing out of here before being spotted. So I’m guessing next time, he’ll stash a trailer nearby to drive it into.”

“You really think someone would go to that much trouble?”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “The last Cadillac of this vintage I saw sell at auction went for eighty-five thousand dollars.”

“Are you serious?”

“Trust me.” He buffed a smudge from the hood with a fond smile. “If I could have afforded to buy this car from your grandfather, I would have made him an offer.”

Becki bit her lip. If Sarah found out what the car was worth, she’d demand it be sold for sure.

Becki’s heart lurched at the thought. She didn’t care about the money. The car had been Gramps’s pride and joy. How could she let it go?

She had sat for hours on the backseat with her notepad and pen as Gramps tinkered with something or the other and recounted adventures he’d had driving the car as a boy. She whirled toward Josh. “We can’t let it be stolen!”

“I don’t intend to.”

His confident tone quelled her alarm. Embarrassed she’d let it get the better of her, she gave him a lopsided smile. “Would you show me how it works, too?”

“Be happy to. First, I’ll need to figure out what’s wrong with it. Your gramps and I never did get it running reliably again. I’ll take a look at it this afternoon, after I get those cameras up. If I can get it working, we can take it out after church tomorrow, if you like.”

Becki gave him an impulsive hug. “Thank you!”

Josh folded his arms around her. “My pleasure, Bec.”

The tender sound of his pet name for her momentarily stayed her instinct to pull back. Since learning of her grandparents’ deaths, she’d felt so alone. Josh was the only one to comfort her who really cared.

“Maybe you and I could work on it together, like your gramps did with me after my dad died.”

Reluctantly, she eased her arms from around him, questioning the wisdom of jumping at reasons to spend more time with him. But one look at his red-rimmed eyes and she squeezed her own shut and laid her head against his chest. “You miss them as much as I do.”

He rested his cheek against her hair. “Yes, I do.”

Remembering the secret Anne had shared about how Josh blamed himself for her grandparents’ deaths, Becki hugged him harder.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawled from the direction of the door. “Settling right in, I see.”

Becki sprang from Josh’s arms. Smoothed her hair. “Neil? What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need some help moving in.” His muddy-blond hair was moussed back, his shirt and pants perfectly pressed, his polished shoes not the least bit appropriate for traipsing across the overgrown yard. His gaze drifted up Josh’s full six feet and narrowed on his face. Neil pushed up his glasses with a single finger to the bridge. “But I see you’re covered.”

Was it her imagination or were the two of them puffing out their chests like rival birds fighting over a mate?

Yeah, right. She let out a choked snort. Definitely her imagination.

“How did you find me? I mean...” She hadn’t given anyone from work her new address. The dusty barn air seemed to close in on her.

“Looked up the address on the internet. I remembered you mentioning your grandfather lived in Serenity.” Neil stepped closer, arm outstretched toward Josh. “Neil Orner.”

Josh gave Neil’s hand a swift shake. “Joshua Rayne.”

“Josh is my new neighbor and an old family friend,” Becki rushed to explain. “He was just comforting me over my loss.” She squirmed at how defensive that sounded. She didn’t owe Neil an explanation. They hadn’t dated for over three months. “Um, Neil is a colleague from work,” she said to Josh.

A muscle in Neil’s cheek ticked, but what did he expect her to say?

Josh hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t think Bec ever told me. Where is it you work?”

Neil inhaled, appearing to grow another half inch. “We work at Holton Industries.”

Josh’s jaw dropped a fraction, his eyes widening as he turned his attention back to her. “Industry?” He sounded skeptical. “I always figured you’d go into something to do with writing or graphic arts.”

He thought about her?

“You never went anywhere without a pad and paper.” A far-off look flickered in his eyes and a smile whispered across his lips as if he was picturing her as that tagalong girl again.

“That’s fine for a hobby,” Neil interjected. “But one can hardly make a living—”

“I don’t know. If you’re doing something you love, the rest seems to take care of itself.”

Becki’s chest swelled at Josh’s defense, but his quiet confidence didn’t seem to convince Neil. Of course, Josh had never needed much to be content, whereas Neil always wanted whatever seemed just out of reach. He’d admitted to being a bit of a runt growing up and seemed determined to put the ridicule behind him by latching onto the latest status symbols, which before they broke up had started to include an obsessive interest in her career decisions. That thought made her jittery all over again.

She closed the Cadillac’s door, willing steel into her backbone. “Well, with any luck I’ll find a job I love right here in Serenity.”

Josh rested his hand at her waist, and his touch calmed her instantly. He urged her toward the barn door. “No luck needed. We’ll pray you do.”

The confidence in Josh’s voice raised goose bumps on her arms. Stepping outside, she turned her face to the sun, wishing she could believe prayer would make a difference.

She once had. All those summers here, God had seemed so real. Even when He didn’t answer her prayer that she be allowed to stay with Gran and Gramps after the divorce, she’d clung to Gran’s assurances that God worked all things together for good. But how could any good come from letting Gran and Gramps die of carbon-monoxide poisoning?

Clearly, from the sour look on Neil’s face, he didn’t believe prayer would make a difference, either.

A cell phone rang, and both men reached for their hips.

“It’s mine,” Josh said. He glanced at the screen, then caught Becki’s gaze. “Excuse me a sec.” He stepped away from them, his phone to his ear.

“Why don’t I give you a hand with those boxes in your car?” Neil suggested.

“I can’t believe you came all the way out here.”

He shrugged. “What’s a three-hour drive to help a friend?”

She winced, certain his emphasis on friend was a dig to her “colleague” reference. “Last time we talked you told me I was crazy to want to move here.”

“Still think so. Figured I’d come see what the attraction was.” His gaze strayed to Josh, and he snorted. “I talked to Peters. He’s going to fill your job with a temp for a few months. Give you a chance to decide if this is really what you want.”

“I’ve already made my decision.” She fisted her hands. This was the kind of I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude that had made her break up with him in the first place. He was more controlling than her mother.

“Don’t be mad.” He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “You know you don’t belong here.”

She jerked away from his touch and stalked to her car.

“Rebecca.” He trailed after her. “I was just trying to help. Country living may not be as great as you remember.”

She opened the back door of her car, tugged out a box and plopped it into his arms. “I appreciate that. Really I do.” She grabbed another box and led the way to the front door. “But you shouldn’t have interfered.”

“You’re still mad at me because I didn’t make it to your grandparents’ funeral, aren’t you?”

“What? No!” She shifted her box onto one hip and shoved her key into the door lock. “I never expected you to.”

“I should have been there for you.” He covered her hand and turned the key, pushing open the door.

She snatched her hand back and plowed past him into the house. She set the box on the old deacon’s bench in the front hall, averse to inviting Neil any farther.

“Hey, no matter what else happens, we are friends. Right?”

She stared at him, a tad uneasy about what exactly that meant to him.

“Where do you want these?” Josh’s voice drifted through the door, wrapping around her ragged nerves like a soothing hug. He held a stack of boxes in his arms.

She rushed forward and grabbed the one teetering from the top. “The living room is fine. Thanks.”

“This, too?” Neil asked.

“No. It can stay here. Could you grab the boxes from the trunk next?”

The instant Neil went back outside, Josh stepped up behind her. “Do you mind if I do a quick walk-through? Make sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” Her words came out breathlessly. From the possibility that the prowler had been inside, she told herself, not from Josh’s proximity.

Becki hurried out after Neil, before he got too curious. One time she’d caught him peeking in her desk drawers while he waited for her to finish getting ready for a date. He’d said he’d been looking for scissors to clip off a loose thread, and maybe he had been, but he had no sense of boundaries. Clearly.

If he did, he wouldn’t be there.

It was one thing to stop by her desk and chat for a few minutes every day. It was entirely another to drive three hours to do it.

She’d appreciated that he had the self-confidence not to let their breakup ruin their working relationship. And okay, it had been really thoughtful of him to bring over supper and flowers from everyone at the office after she’d gotten word about her grandparents’ deaths and left work so suddenly.

But now that their professional relationship had ended, she really didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

“What does your neighbor do for a living?” Neil asked, passing her with an armload stacked even higher than Josh’s had been.

She grabbed the top two boxes. “He’s a police officer.”

Neil gave a start. “That’s handy.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you have any trouble.”

She pressed her lips closed, loath to admit she’d already had some. That was just the kind of thing Neil would latch onto to try to change her mind about moving here. He and her sister should start a club.

Josh met them at the door. He waited for Neil to pass by, then pulled her aside. “I need to go. They’ve found a submerged car in the old quarry and need a diver to check for...anything suspicious.”

She gasped, certain he’d been about to say bodies. “I didn’t realize you were a diver.”

“Trained in the military.” His eyes were shadowed. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Go.”

“There’s no sign your prowler got into the house, and I don’t think he’ll come around in daylight, especially with a couple of cars in the driveway. But if you see anything suspicious, don’t hesitate to call me. Okay?” He pressed a business card into her hand with a number scrawled on the back. “That’s my cell number.”

For some reason Josh’s protective concern didn’t feel so condescendingly suffocating as Neil’s always had. Maybe because the concern didn’t seem so irrational coming from a cop. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He lifted a hand to Neil, who’d stepped back into the foyer from wherever his curiosity had taken him while she’d been distracted by Josh. “Nice meeting you, Neil. See you around.”

Neil sidled up to her as she watched Josh jog across the driveway back to his house. “He sounds worried about you. Not on my account, I hope.”

She let out a puff of air—half cough, half snort. “Uh, no.”

“Then why?”

“It was a little unsettling being back here for the first time with Gran and Gramps gone,” she said evasively.

“I’d be happy to stick around for a while. Keep you company.”

“Actually, I’d rather be alone right now.” She tilted her head and added softly, “You understand?”

He clasped her upper arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course. Let me just grab the housewarming gift I brought you.”

She stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her waist, feeling like an ingrate, as he hurried to his flashy Mustang. He’d driven all this way to extend his help and friendship. The least she could do was offer him a cup of coffee before he left.

He opened his door and pulled out a hanging basket overflowing with fuchsia-colored dianthus. He strode toward her with a wide grin. “Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I remembered you telling me how your gran used to have them hanging from the beams of the wraparound porch.”

“You remembered that?” He’d never seemed to be listening.

“Of course.” He patted the rails. “It’s just like you described.” He reached over her head and looped the basket onto a hook in the beam. “There.”

“Would you like a glass of lemonade before you leave?” she blurted on impulse. Lemonade at least would be quicker than coffee. Gran always had a mix in the cupboard.

“That’s okay. I know you have a lot to do. I just wanted to make sure you got here all right. And let you know that if you change your mind about staying...”

“I won’t.”

His eyes flicked around the yard, to the fields surrounding the two houses and to the thick stand of trees beyond. “It doesn’t scare you to be out the back of nowhere? With next to no neighbors?”

“I won’t change my mind,” she said more adamantly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. I’m just saying if you did, no one would blame you. Not with who knows what kind of wild animals stalking those woods. Or creeps prowling for easy prey.”

THREE

Josh shone his waterproof flashlight in, under and around the submerged car, fanned the search out another ten yards in every direction, then kicked to the surface. Hailing the officer in charge of the recovery, Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “It’s clear.”

“Good.” Walt passed Josh the tow cable. “Hook her up. Then check the rest of the pit.”

Josh reinserted his mouthpiece, then dived to the bottom with the cable and secured the towline to the car’s frame. It’d take him another hour at least to thoroughly search every corner of the former quarry. Most of it was under eight feet or less of water, but one of the guys had said it got as deep as forty in the northeast corner. He kicked out of the way of the vehicle and surfaced long enough to signal it was okay to start towing.

He didn’t want to spend any more time out here than he had to. He couldn’t get that Neil guy off his mind. Bec hadn’t seemed all that comfortable with him, and Neil clearly hadn’t been deterred.

Josh didn’t like how fidgety the guy had made her. Thanks to her prowler, she’d been jittery enough already. She didn’t need an unwelcome wannabe boyfriend insinuating himself into the situation. And any guy who traveled this far just to check up on her had to have been more than a colleague, or wanted to be.

Josh clawed through the water, scoping every rock crevice. Had he been too quick to take Bec’s word that she was okay being left alone with Neil?

He was taking way too much interest in Bec’s affairs. A carp jutted from behind the rock ahead of Josh, stirring up a cloud of silt. He treaded in one spot, waiting for the water to clear. At least he’d had the decency to let a woman go without argument when she turned him down. Maybe he should have run a background check on Neil, made sure the guy wasn’t some sort of stalker.

He hadn’t missed Neil’s You know you don’t belong here, which sounded too much like the note that had been waiting for Bec in her mailbox when she’d arrived.

Josh dived back under, swimming faster than ever. Broken beer bottles littered the bottom of the pit. The area had been a popular hangout for teens for as long as he could remember. Surprising there wasn’t more graffiti on the rocks than the occasional heart framing lovers’ initials.

His thoughts slipped back to Bec, or more precisely the strange feeling that had come over him when she’d given him that impulsive hug. It reminded him of the time she’d thanked him for rescuing her from the tree she’d gotten herself stuck in as a kid. Only, when he’d folded his arms around her, it hadn’t felt the same at all. He probably should be relieved Neil had shown up when he had.

If she knew how he’d failed her grandparents, she wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. She was too vulnerable right now, between coping with her loss and starting over in a new town, a new job. Moving into the house. And now this prowler. Josh needed to focus on keeping her safe. Not on how wonderful it had felt to hold a woman in his arms.

He gave a hard kick and propelled himself into the deeper water. A woman in his arms... He knew better than to let his thoughts wander into that territory. He supposed helping his old high-school pal bring in his hay yesterday had started it.

His friend’s wife and young son had brought a picnic lunch to the field for them, the boy squealing with delight when Josh’s friend tickled his sides as the wife looked on with a contented expression.

It was the kind of life Josh had always longed for.

He sliced his arms through the water, relying more heavily on the narrow beam of his flashlight as he pushed deeper. The same as he’d learned to do with God. The Lord had blessed him with a country home, a good job and plenty of friends, and had even brought his sister back to Serenity.

Wishing for more only led to a whole well of hurt.

Neil, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be getting that message.

The vibration of the winding tow cable rippled through the water.

Josh beefed up his strokes. The sooner he covered the search area, the sooner he could get home.

A shadow fell over the water ahead of him. Glancing up, he spotted a signal buoy. He kicked to the surface.

“Over here,” Walt shouted from a new position onshore.

Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to let you know if your cell phone rang.”

His pulse jerked. Bec? “What’s the caller ID?”

“Hunter Madison.”

Josh’s heart settled back into a steady rhythm. “Okay, let it go to voice mail. I’ll call him when I’m finished.” Hunter probably just wanted to check on where to put the cameras.

Josh dived back under and swept his light in widening arcs. The fish had gone into hiding. Hopefully, Bec’s prowler wouldn’t do the same. The last thing Bec needed was weeks of worrying if and when the intruder would show up again.

He winged a prayer skyward that God would help him catch the guy quickly.

The water was crystal clear, tinted a nice aquamarine, thanks to the limestone. Maybe he’d bring Bec here sometime with the dog. She might get a kick out of hunting for fossils in the rocks. It’d help take her mind off her troubles for a while. That and going out in her grandfather’s old Cadillac.

Her eyes had lit up at the prospect, and he couldn’t deny he was more than happy to fulfill that particular wish.

Overhead, the water grew choppy from the car breaking the surface.

Josh waited for the tow truck to haul the car out onto the flat rock overlooking the mini-lake and then did a final sweep of the area, his thoughts already back at the farm.

Finding nothing, he kicked to the surface and climbed out.

Walt handed him a towel. “There’s nothing suspicious in the car. What do you make of it?”

Josh yanked off his regulator and mask and dragged his mind back to the investigation. “There’s no body. Kids likely stole the car for a joyride, then ditched the evidence.” More likely kids in this case than the incident in Bec’s barn...unfortunately.

“Kids don’t usually think to pull plates.”

“True. Could’ve been used in a crime, then dumped.” Josh scrubbed his hair dry with the towel. “Get any hits with the car’s make and model?”

“Nope, not within Niagara anyway. No unrecovered Plymouths of any model reported stolen in the last two years.”

“So not insurance fraud.”

Walt shrugged. “Could be from another region.”

“That car hasn’t been down there more than a week.” Josh walked around the car and then, stepping back, studied the distinctive rear taillights.

“You recognize something?” Walt asked.

“Yeah.” Josh clenched the towel in his fist. “I think it’s the same car I saw pull out of a farmer’s field near my place last night...around the same time my new neighbor was attacked by a prowler.”

* * *

Becki headed to the car to grab the last of her boxes and froze. A stone’s throw away, a black SUV idled in Josh’s driveway. The dark-haired guy behind the wheel squinted at her, then turned off his engine.

Her breath caught. Was he the prowler?

She glanced around. Where was Tripod?

The SUV’s door opened, and the guy’s enormous boots hit the gravel with a thud. Boots that could dispense with Josh’s three-legged dog in one swift kick.

The guy peeled off a jacket and slapped a ball cap on his head, exposing tattooed, steely arms. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days. Army-olive fatigues completed the impression of a mercenary looking for action. The guy reached behind his seat.

Josh’s words blasted through her mind. Some guys would just as soon shoot a witness as run away.

Becki whirled on her heel and ran for the house.

“Hey, hold up there. Are you Bec?”

Bec? She stopped two yards from the door. Josh was the only one who called her that. This had to be the friend he’d called about borrowing the cameras. She turned slowly and backed up another couple of steps just to be safe. “Who wants to know?”

A friendly grin—not in the least bit mercenary—dented his cheeks. “I’m Hunter.” He lifted his hand. A couple of drab-colored boxes dangled from his fingertips. “Josh asked me to hang these up for you.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat and added, “I appreciate that. Follow me, and I’ll show—”

A sporty green car turned into her driveway.

“Oh.” She looked from the car to the barn.

“You see to your visitor,” Hunter said. “I can find my way.” He tipped his hat and devoured the distance to the barn in powerful strides.

Able to breathe again, she reasoned that if Josh trusted the guy, she could, too. But the message wasn’t getting to her pounding heart. She turned to the approaching car. The place was starting to feel like Grand Central Station. She didn’t recognize the middle-aged man behind the wheel, but he looked a whole lot safer than Rambo.

He parked behind her car and lowered his window. “You Graw’s granddaughter?”

“Yes. May I help you?”

The man stepped out of his car. Unlike Rambo, he was dressed conservatively, with his hair neatly cut, and clean-shaven. Empathy shone from his eyes when he extended his hand. “Name’s Henry Smith. Remember we talked on the phone a few days back?”

“Oh, yes. You’re the friend of my grandfather’s.” On the phone, he’d sounded closer to Gramps’s age.

He cupped her hand between his. “I wanted to drop by to give my condolences. Your grandfather was a dear friend.”

She tilted her head. “You said you knew him through the antique-car club, is that right?”

“That’s right.” He released her hand and reached into the car. “I thought you might like this.” He handed her an eight-by-ten photo of Gran and Gramps posing by their Cadillac in their period costumes.

“Oh, wow!” She savored her grandparents’ smiling faces. “Thank you so much. It’s lovely.”

“Took that on our last tour together. Thought you’d like it.”

Becki traced the hat her gran wore. “I used to love snapping Gramps’s suspenders and trying on Gran’s big floppy hats.”

“Yup, those are great costumes. There’d be a lot of folks in the club who’d be happy to buy them from you if you wanted to sell. Might be interested in some myself if you have time for me to look them over.”

“Oh.” She fluttered her hand toward the barn. “I think they stored those with the car in the trailer, which isn’t here right now. But I’m not ready to part with anything just yet.”

“Of course not.”

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

Becki hitched her thumb toward the house. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, no.” He motioned toward her open trunk. “I can see you’re busy. I just wanted to see you got the photo.”

She grabbed the last two boxes from her car and closed the lid. “C’mon, I could use the break and I’d love to hear more about your trips with my grandparents.”

“Well if you put it that way... There’s nothing we car enthusiasts like to do more than talk about our cars. Except tour them, of course.”

She chuckled, recalling countless Saturday afternoons sitting on the back porch, listening to Gramps and his buddies talk about cars. “What kind of car do you drive on the tours, Mr. Smith?” she asked, leading the way to the back porch.

“Call me Henry, please. Sure is a beautiful place your grandparents had here.”

“I think so. Of course, my ex-boyfriend thinks I’m nuts to want to live out here. He thinks the seclusion and wild animals are way scarier than street crimes.”

“Sounds like someone who’s never spent a day in the country.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Henry’s gaze drifted over her shoulder. “Not that fella, then?”

She glanced back at Hunter, who blended into the tree in his camouflage. “Uh, no. He’s just a...neighbor.” She motioned Henry to one of the porch chairs. “Just give me a minute to get the coffee.”

Henry followed her as far as the open patio door. “Your grandfather had some car trouble on his last tour. If he didn’t get the chance to fix it, I could take a look if you like.”

Becki grabbed the coffee sweetener from the cupboard. “That’s okay. My neighbor already offered.” She poured their coffees and rejoined Henry outside. “So tell me about your last tour with Gran and Gramps.”

“First, tell me about your plans. What will you do with the old Cadillac?”

“Um, not sure yet.” Becki shoved away the guilty feeling that the car was too valuable to be lumped with “contents” in the will. She couldn’t bear the thought of parting with the “old gal,” knowing how much she’d meant to Gramps.

Henry sipped his coffee and shared a couple of touring yarns.

“Can you tell me about any more of my grandparents’ adventures?” Becki asked.

He glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid they’ll have to wait for another time. I need to get on the road.” He patted his breast pocket, pulled out a pen and jotted a number on a scrap of paper. “Here’s my number if you run into any trouble with the car that your neighbor can’t handle.”

“Thank you.” She stood next to the driveway until he’d driven away, then returned inside and leaned against the closed door. For the first time since she’d arrived, she really absorbed the sight of her beloved grandparents’ home. She inhaled, basking in the distinctive fragrance that was her grandparents’.

But the air smelled a bit stale. From being closed up so long, probably. She meandered from room to room, flinging open windows. The scraped paint on the bottom of the too-low window in the main-floor bathroom reminded her of the time she’d locked the window on her sister, who used to sneak in and out through it. Boy, did she get in trouble that night.

The house phone rang.

Becki hesitated. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone else, especially someone who might not have heard that Gran and Gramps were gone.

She swallowed. More likely it was a telemarketer. Or maybe Mom checking in to make sure she’d arrived safely. Becki let out a puff of air. Yeah, in her dreams.

For most of her life, Mom had dictated what Becki could and couldn’t do, who she could date, what extracurricular activities she could join, what college she should attend, but the instant Becki had the gall to defy her and move into an apartment, Mom had stopped showing any interest in what she did. Which was just one more way to control her.

Drawing in a deep breath, Becki snatched up the phone. “Hello.”

No answer.

She listened for a moment, expecting an automated voice to kick in with a spiel about how she’d won a cruise to a Caribbean island.

“Hello?”

The line clicked off.

How rude. If someone dialed the wrong number, they should at least have the decency to say something. Then again...

The caller might have expected Gran or Gramps to answer and been thrown off by her much younger voice. Next time she’d have to identify herself.

Putting the call out of her mind, she grabbed a box marked Bedroom and meandered upstairs, letting memories whisper through her thoughts.

The same frilly pink curtains adorned the window of the bedroom that she and Sarah had shared the summers they’d visited. Gran’s music box still sat on the nightstand, too.

Becki turned the mechanism, and the strains of “My Favorite Things” filled the room. As the last notes died away, Becki returned the music box to the nightstand and wiped the moisture from her eyes.

Thank goodness Josh wasn’t there to see her sniffle over every knickknack. It was one thing to cry at a funeral. Everyone expected that. But almost a month had passed since her grandparents’ deaths.

She glanced out the window. Across the yard, Hunter stood, scrutinizing the cameras he’d positioned. Josh wasn’t taking any chances on missing her prowler the next time around.

If only he’d been as diligent investigating the cause of Gramps’s headache.

She bit her lip, ashamed by the thought. Logically, she knew her grandparents’ deaths weren’t Josh’s fault. She certainly didn’t blame him. But...

Ever since Anne had told her about Gramps’s headache, Becki couldn’t stop thinking about how differently things could have turned out if only...

She shoved the pointless wish from her mind and unpacked the box she’d carried up. She set her jewelry box and hairbrush on the dresser next to the flip book of Bible promises that had been there for as long as she could remember. The visible page, yellowed and curled at the edges, read, “And we know that all things work together for good to them who love God...”

Becki tossed the book into the empty box and trudged downstairs. Passing the thermostat, she flicked it off.

If the weather hadn’t been so humid the night her grandparents had died, Gran would have had the windows open instead of letting Gramps turn on the air conditioner. The carbon monoxide wouldn’t have had a chance to build up and claim their lives. If God really cared, He would have worked things differently.

Josh’s promise to pray for a new job whispered through her thoughts. How could he be so confident God would answer that prayer when He hadn’t protected Gran and Gramps?

The phone’s ring fractured the silence. She drew in a deep breath, mentally prepared her greeting, then lifted the receiver. “Hello, Graw residence, their granddaughter Becki speaking.”

Again silence greeted her.

“Hello, is anyone there?” She strained to hear any background noise. The faint whirr of traffic maybe. Was Josh calling from the quarry and unable to hear her? “Hello,” she said more loudly.

The line clicked off.

She dialed star sixty-nine to find out who her caller was. The automated computer voice informed her the number was private.

Had the caller deliberately blocked his or her identity?

What if it was the prowler calling to see if anyone was home?

Now he knew who she was!

A knock sounded at the back door. She jumped, sending the phone toppling off the end table. She grabbed the phone and peered around the corner to try to catch a glimpse of who was there.

“Miss Graw? It’s Hunter.”

Her breath whooshed from her chest. Of course. Idiot. The phone call had scrambled her brain. She set down the phone and hurried to the back door. “Sorry, I was—” she waved toward the other room “—on the phone.”

“No problem. I just wanted to let you know the cameras are up and I’m heading out. You can hang on to them as long as you need them.”

“Will do. Thank you so much. Can I get you a coffee or something before you go?”

He tipped his cap, his mouth spreading into an amused grin. “That’s okay. Maybe some other time when Josh is around.” He winked, then strode across the yard back to his SUV.

Great, now he’d think his friend’s new neighbor was a nervous Nellie. Of course, if he was in the habit of always dressing like Rambo, he probably got that reaction a lot. She flipped the dead bolt and returned to her unpacking.

A door upstairs slammed shut, making her jump yet again. It’s just the wind, you ninny. She should probably shut the windows now that she was alone again.

She made quick work of the downstairs ones, then grabbed another box marked Bedroom and climbed the stairs. She wrestled the end room’s window closed first. It opened to a meadow with a stand of trees beyond. Movement in the trees caught her attention. She squinted, hoping to spot a deer and her fawn. She’d have to find Gran’s binoculars.

The phone rang as she reached her grandparents’ bedroom. She snatched up their bedside extension, an old-fashioned rotary dial. “Hello.”

Once again, an ominous silence greeted her.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, stop calling.” She slammed the phone down with a satisfying thwack. If the creep called one more time, she’d have him blocked. There had to be a way for the phone company to do that, even if he was hiding his number. She shut the back windows and was about to move to the front bedrooms when the phone rang again.

If she had a whistle, she’d be tempted to let it blast. She smiled to herself, then puckered up and put her thumb and forefinger between her lips as she lifted the receiver. She didn’t say a thing and when the person on the other end didn’t either, she let loose for a full ten seconds.

After a second’s pause, a voice came on the line. “Bec? Is that you?”

“Josh? Uh, sorry about that. Someone’s been calling here and not saying anything and then hanging up. I figured I’d give him an earful.”

“When? How many times?”

His staccato questions set her pulse racing all over again. “Three times in the last half hour or so. I tried star sixty-nine, but the guy blocked his information.”

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called. If the phone rings again, don’t answer it. When I get there, I’ll get hold of the phone company and have them trace the call.”

Outside, Tripod started barking.

Sure, where was the dog an hour ago when Rambo showed up? “Your dog’s going nuts over something outside.”

“Probably a cat again. Can you see him?”

Becki unwound the phone cord from behind the night table and moved to the window to try and see what had him riled. A noise sounded from downstairs. The dog?

She couldn’t see him from the window. From his barking, it sounded as if he was prancing back and forth along the west wall. She moved toward the bedroom door, straining to hear if the sound had really come from inside.

Another thump sounded.

“Josh,” she whispered, “I think someone’s in the house.”

“Where are you?”

“Upstairs.”

A voice spoke in the background, and then Josh barked orders to send a cruiser to her address. “Help is on the way, Bec. I’m fifteen minutes out.” Through the phone, a siren whirred to life, while at her end, silence reigned.

The dog’s not barking. She clenched the phone to her ear. “Josh, the dog’s not barking!”

“It’s going to be okay. I want you to hide in the bathroom. Lock the door.”

“But I’m on an old plug-in phone, I’d have to hang up.”

“Listen to me. You need to hang up. If the intruder sees a light on the downstairs phone, he’ll know someone’s in the house.”

Her fingers tightened around the receiver at the thought of breaking the connection.

A loud pop and whoosh cracked the silence.

She gasped.

“What is it? What’s going on?” The urgency in Josh’s voice sent her pulse careening.

“A... It sounded like a gunshot. Outside.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t one of the bangers that scare birds from the vineyards across the road?”

Her heart pummeled her ribs as she tugged the phone as far as it would reach and tried to see out the front windows from the hallway. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

A second shot sounded. And a puff of dirt kicked up in the yard.

She dropped to her belly. “No, it’s real. Someone’s shooting at the house!”

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