The Chase (26 page)

The deputy tipped his hat at Anne. “I’ll let myself out, Mrs. Cummings.”

Anne stood behind Doug and rubbed his shoulders for a moment before sitting in the chair next to him. “You look awfully pensive, Patrick,” she said as she poured them each a cup of tea.

Patrick adjusted his glasses. “Well, I think I’m starting to see a pattern emerge among these incidents.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Assuming for the sake of argument that the fire tonight was deliberately set, I can think of someone who had the opportunity to start it. An individual who was also present during some of the other incidents.”

“Who’s that?”

Patrick regarded her for a moment. “Jake Dawson.”

“
What?”

“Patrick, that’s absurd,” Doug said. “Jake just risked his life by running into the burning barn to save Samantha’s puppy.”

Patrick held his hand out to quiet them. “I know, it may sound crazy, but just hear me out. We have the entrance to the farm guarded, and our roving patrol had been by the barn just moments after you left to come back up to the house. There’s no conceivable way in my mind that someone could have come onto the property, made his way down to the barn, set the fire, and left again without being seen by one of our guards.”

Doug raised an eyebrow. “We were down there for a good ten minutes after the fire started before one of your men showed up. It seems to me
that
was a pretty big time gap.”

Patrick nodded. “Fair enough. But whoever set the fire would have had to make his way past the guards and down to the barn and back.”

Doug shook his head. “Not necessarily. He could have come through the woods.”

“True. But that’s pretty rough going on foot. I think we need to consider Jake as a possible suspect. You stated that when you were showing him around the barn, he asked to see the hayloft, and you didn’t accompany him up there because it was uncomfortable for you to climb the ladder with your broken ribs; something, by the way, I think he could have counted on. He was in the hayloft alone. Within a matter of minutes a fire broke out. That’s a pretty unlikely coincidence in my opinion.”

Anne’s mouth tightened. “If Jake set fire to the barn, why would he risk his life by going back inside?”

Patrick shrugged. “Perhaps it was part of the plan all along. Maybe he thought if he rescued Samantha’s puppy, he could ingratiate himself with you. He probably didn’t bargain on getting trapped inside the barn.”

“And I suppose you think he saved Chancellor for the same reason.”

“I think it’s quite possible.”

Anne looked at Doug. “You’re not buying this, are you?”

Before he could answer, Patrick broke in. “Look, I’m not saying that Jake Dawson did all these things, but I think we should check him out. It bothers me that Jake showed up out of nowhere at the scene of Doug’s accident, and he was here tonight, with ample opportunity to start the fire. Jake was also at the beagle kennels when the snake appeared in Doug’s car. And what about last night? He lives at Fox Run and could easily have slipped up to Mrs. Southwell’s house and drawn the skull and crossbones on the car window.”

Skull and crossbones on the car window?
Anne stared at Doug. “What’s Patrick talking about?”

Doug exhaled loudly and looked down, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Tell me now.” She struggled to keep her voice steady.

He lifted his eyes to hers. “Someone drew a skull and crossbones in the dust on the back window of the Porsche while I was at the meeting at Margaret’s.”

“Didn’t you have a bodyguard with you?”

Doug nodded. “Mike was inside with me.”

Anne clenched her arms across her chest, uncertain whether the trembling in her hands was triggered by fear or anger.

T
ake pulled his truck to a stop behind Kendall’s Jeep and turned off the engine. “It’s awfully dark,” he said, walking over to her and gesturing towards the house. “Let me walk you inside so you can turn some lights on.”

“Thanks.” Kendall searched through her purse for her house keys. “I love the solitude of living out here, but it can get a little spooky in the dark. I normally leave lights on when I go out at night, but I thought I’d be home early.”

Jake followed her inside and waited by the door while she turned lights on in the living room and kitchen.

“There, that’s better.” She walked back to where he stood. “Thanks for going to the trouble of following me home. You’re probably dying to take a shower and collapse in bed.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “A shower sounds good, but I think if I went to bed right now I’d be counting sheep.”

Kendall nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“Well, take care. I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

Jake was halfway to his car when she called out to him. “Jake.”

He turned around. “What?”

She hesitated. “Would you like to have a drink before you go? I still have some of the beer you brought over the other night.”

Jake narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment. “Sure, I’d like that,” he said, heading back towards her.

Kendall stepped aside to let him enter. “I’ll get the drinks. Why don’t you go in the living room? I’m going to turn on the air conditioning. That room usually cools off first.”

She flipped the switch on the thermostat in the hall before grabbing a bottle of beer for Jake and pouring a large glass of wine for herself. When she entered the living room, Jake was standing by the bookcase with a picture frame in his hand.

“This is a nice shot of you and Wellington. Where was it taken?”

Kendall handed him the bottle of beer and looked at the framed photograph. “That was at Upperville. It’s one of my favorite photos because that was the first big show where we were champion.”

“The first of many championships, I gather, from all the trophies you have on these shelves.” Jake made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

She nodded. “Yes, thanks to Wellington. Unless I do something to screw him up, he’s always in the ribbons.”

Jake put the photo frame back on the shelf and held his beer bottle up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Kendall lifted her glass and took a seat on the sofa.

Jake took a long drink of his beer as he scanned the trophies. “This one’s nice,” he said, lifting the champagne cooler she’d won at Devon. He whistled. “That’s heavy. Guess it’s real silver, huh?”

Kendall smiled. “I imagine so.”

“Which is your favorite trophy?”

“Probably the one you have in your hand.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” Jake carried the trophy to the sofa and sat down next to her.

“There’s not much to tell. Wellington put in brilliant rounds over fences and won the hack, and we were champion.”

“Why’s it your favorite?”

Kendall closed her eyes for a second, remembering the day. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“Because Peter wasn’t there and I could talk to people and just hang out and have fun at the show.”

“You couldn’t talk to people when your husband was there?”

She shook her head. “Not men.”

“Did he get jealous?”

Kendall gave a little laugh. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Jake set the trophy on the sofa between them and took another drink of his beer. “Did he get physical with you?”

Kendall swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat and nodded.

“Is that how you got the scar on your shoulder?”

“Among others,” she said, savoring a long swallow of wine. She knew she was drinking way too fast, but the wine was numbing her and she needed that.

“What finally gave you the courage to leave him?”

Kendall leaned back against the deep cushions and gazed down, fingering the ornate scrolling on the top of the trophy. “One day, I was down at the barn, talking to the blacksmith about Wellington’s shoeing, and Peter made a midday surprise trip home to check up on me. He dragged me out of the barn by my hair and told me he’d see to it that Wellington had an
accident
if he ever caught me alone with another man again.”

“So you left him in order to protect your horse.”

Kendall nodded and drained her wineglass. “Tells you a lot about my self-esteem, doesn’t it?”

Jake took her empty wineglass from her and set it on the coffee table, along with the trophy. “What it tells me,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder, “is that you’re living with a lot of painful memories, and it’s no surprise that you don’t trust men.”

Jake ran his hand lightly down her arm, and Kendall felt a pleasing shiver run through her. She eased towards him and he cupped his hand under her chin, gently forcing her to look at him.

“I won’t hurt you, Kendall. I promise.”

As Jake lowered his lips towards hers, Kendall closed her eyes and slid her arms around his neck.

K
endall awoke the next morning with her head on Jake’s chest, and she drew a deep breath, trying to capture the moment in her memory. They had showered the night before, but Jake still smelled faintly of smoke, mixed with the scent of sex, and the soothing aroma of her lavender soap.

Kendall nestled closer to him and he stirred and mumbled something unintelligible as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and settled back into a pattern of deep, rhythmic breathing. She raised her head ever so slightly to get a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand.

She glanced sleepily at the numbers and then blinked and looked again.
Eight-thirty!
Riding camp started at nine. Kendall raised herself on her elbow and shook Jake.

“Jake, wake up. It’s eight-thirty.”

Jake opened his eyes, squinting lazily at her. “Good morning,” he said in a husky voice, pulling her towards him for a kiss.

Kendall planted a perfunctory kiss on his lips and sat up, clasping the sheet to her chest. “We’ve got to get up, Jake. It’s eight-thirty. I’ve got to be at camp in half an hour.”

Jake pulled her towards him by the sheet she was clutching, a sensuous smile playing on his face. “Not so fast. You have to pay a toll before you can get out of bed.”

Her protest was smothered by his kiss, and Kendall gave in to his embrace. After a moment, she forced herself to pull away. “I’ve got to go.”

Kendall wrapped herself in the sheet and hurried towards the bathroom, stopping long enough to grab lingerie, a pair of breeches, and a polo shirt from the closet. When she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, her bed was empty and the tangled bedding was the only hint of the intimacy she and Jake had shared.

She smelled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and found Jake in the kitchen, standing next to the gurgling coffeemaker. He was barefoot and wore his soot-covered jeans from the night before and Doug’s blue dress shirt, which was unbuttoned, revealing his tanned, muscular chest.

Jake gave her a lopsided grin. “I wanted to make breakfast for you, but your refrigerator’s pretty bare. Coffee was about all that I could find.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

Kendall crossed her arms and looked away, unsure what else to say. Last night, in the safety of the dark, she’d felt so close to Jake. But now, with the bright morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, she didn’t know how to act towards him. She wasn’t going to fool herself by pretending that last night was the beginning of anything serious between them. Jake was just passing through town. Before long he’d undoubtedly move on and befriend another lonely woman.

Jake crossed the room and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. “I saw creamer in the fridge. I assume you use that,” he said, pulling open the refrigerator door and taking out the carton of creamer. He pinched open the top of the carton, sniffed it, then made a face and waved it under her nose. “I think this is past its prime.”

She raised the mug to her mouth. “I’ll just drink it black.”

He watched her drink her coffee and smiled at her. “You look like a schoolgirl with your hair all wet and in a ponytail like that.”