Army Ranger Redemption (11 page)

As she scraped up the last bit of yogurt with her spoon, a horn began to blare outside. She dropped the carton in the sink and flew to the front window. Sweeping the curtain aside, she peered through the glass at her own car sitting just beyond the burned logs and scorched trees.

Must be her horn, but it didn’t sound like her car alarm. She grabbed her keys from her purse and, aiming the key fob in front of her, she jabbed the button to unlock the car door as she stepped outside and walked toward her wailing car.

She opened the door and blinked at the block of wood propped up on the seat and wedged against her horn.

“What the hell is this?” She hunched forward to knock the wood loose.

She sensed a whisper of movement, but before she could turn around someone shoved her face-first onto the passenger seat.

She screamed and struggled to turn her head.

A hand gripped the back of her neck, the thumb pressing close to her windpipe.

She tried to kick out behind her, but a body fell heavily on her back and the point of a knife pricked her throat just beneath her jawline.

She froze, her next scream turning into a whimper.

Hot breath and a hoarse whisper in her ear. “You’ve been warned. Leave it alone.”

Chapter Twelve

Jim rolled up to Scarlett’s cabin on a set of tires borrowed from another bike, enjoying the view. She’d be so much safer once the landscaper cleared the burned mess and passersby could see her cabin from the road.

His eyebrows collided over his nose as he took in Scarlett’s car with the car door open wide. Then his heart started pumping double time when he saw her pointy-toed boots hanging out the door.

He parked behind her car and jumped off the bike. “Scarlett?”

As he reached the car door, she rolled over on her back and choked.

He took one look at her tear-streaked face, pale with fear, and grabbed her hands, yanking her out of the car and into his arms. Her body trembled against his.

“What in God’s name happened? Are you hurt?”

Sniffling, she hauled in a couple of shaky breaths. “Someone just threatened me, held a knife to my throat.”

His pulse jumped and he scooped her into a tighter hug. “How long ago? Why were you just lying in the car? Did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t hurt me, but he told me to stay where I was. That was about five minutes ago. I’m sure he’s long gone, but I was too afraid to move.”

“Did you get a look at him?” Resting his chin on the top of Scarlett’s head, he scanned the woods at the edge of her property. “What direction did he go?”

“I didn’t hear a vehicle, so he must’ve come and gone on foot, which probably means through the forest. He wouldn’t want to chance being seen from the road.”

“You didn’t get a look at him?”

“He approached me from behind and smashed my face into the car seat.”

“How’d he do all that without revealing himself?”

“It...it was a trap.” She kicked at a piece of wood on the ground. “He rigged this up to honk my horn. When I came out to investigate, he came up behind me. The horn was blaring and my ears were ringing, so I didn’t hear him approach.”

He combed his fingers through her long hair. “What did he want? Did he say anything?”

“He told me I’d been warned and to leave it alone. He obviously meant the Timberline Trio case.”

He took her by the shoulders. “Do you want me to try to go after him?”

“No.” She grabbed his jacket. “He had a head start, and he might...”

“I’m not afraid of him, Scarlett. He’s a coward.”

“You’re not going to find him, Jim. Don’t leave me here.”

Cupping her face with one hand, he drew his thumb across her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, but we need to call the sheriff’s department.”

“The man was wearing gloves. The cops aren’t going to find anything.”

“Let them worry about that. If he took off through the woods, he might’ve left evidence behind. Besides, didn’t I tell you it’s important to document all of these incidents?”

“The sheriff’s department is going to deem me a public nuisance.”

“Let ’em. They don’t seem to be doing their jobs—murder, arson, vandalism. Where does it stop?”

“It stops when people give up on investigating the Timberline Trio.”

He lifted the piece of wood on the ground with the toe of his boot and let it fall. “How does this person or people know you’re looking into the case? I’m thinking it has to do with your association with me.”

“My association with you? How do they know we’re not just old friends, or...?”

“Something more?” His blood stirred at the thought of something more with Scarlett.

“Probably because we found a dead body together and visited your grandmother together.”

“Maybe—” she twirled a strand of hair around her finger “—we should make people believe we’re not just together to investigate the Timberline Trio.”

He snapped his fingers. “Dinner tonight? In public?”

“That might do it. Of course,” she said, and looked up at him through her dark lashes, “we have to make it look like more than just a business meeting.”

He swallowed. “I can do that, but first let’s get the cops out here.”

Deputy Stevens came out to investigate and he and another deputy canvassed the woods but came up empty-handed.

They seemed to dismiss the connection to the Timberline Trio case and asked Scarlett a lot of questions about her known enemies—the hunters in the area, as she’d been known to sabotage their traps and protest expanded hunting areas.

When they left, she rolled her eyes at Jim. “Law enforcement in this town seems to think I deserve these attacks because of my stance against hunting. I don’t like hunters, but even I’ll admit they’re not violent types—against humans, anyway. We’ve exchanged words and heated arguments, but not one of them has ever attacked me.”

“Could be a first.”

“I’ve been too busy to protest much lately. Why would they turn violent on me now? No, this all started happening when I stepped in to help that reporter, Beth St. Regis, who was planning to do a segment on the Timberline Trio for her
Cold Case Chronicles
show.”

“I thought you told me that was a cover for her own investigation into her past.”

“It was, but nobody else knew that, except the FBI agent who was out here—Duke Harper.”

Folding his arms, Jim wedged his hip against the post on the porch. “Do you think he’d talk to me about his findings when he was out here? Did you make that kind of connection with him?”

“I got friendly with him and Beth. They knew each other from before and are still together, as far as I know.”

“Would you mind calling him for me or giving me his number?”

“Sure. I’ll do that.” She rubbed her throat, where an angry red mark remained as the only evidence of the attack she’d suffered. “Do you want to install those locks now?”

“Yeah, but I think you should upgrade to security cameras. If you’d had one, right now we’d be looking at the tape of the guy who assaulted you.”

While he worked on the new locks, Scarlett retreated to her studio. When he poked his head into the room, she looked up from a laptop.

“Working?”

“Working, not creating. I’m doing an inventory of some pieces for my upcoming show.”

“When’s the show?” He weaved his way through the explosion of colors and textures in the room to reach the sliding door in the back.

“It’s in a few weeks, in West Hollywood.”

He pretended to concentrate on the sliding door. She had art shows all over the world. He’d looked her up on the internet. Critics raved about her modern art and high-end buyers snapped it up.

“What do you do with your cabin when you’re away?”

“My cousins check in on it, and sometimes Jason stays here.” She tapped her keyboard and closed the laptop. “Are you going home before we have dinner?”

“Yeah.” He plucked his black T-shirt away from his chest. “I was wearing these clothes when I changed the tires on the bike. I won’t be long. You hungry?”

Her eyes flicked over his body like a hot lash that he felt to his core. “Starving.”

He finished his work in record speed as Scarlett wandered around the studio, assessing her work for the show. When he packed up his tools, he was more than ready to call it a day and spend some time with Scarlett—time where they wouldn’t have to be looking over their shoulders every two minutes. Precious time before she left Timberline.

Hovering by the front door, he asked, “Do you want another spin on the bike, or do you want to drive?”

“I’ve had enough excitement for the day. I’ll pick you up around seven.”

He hesitated and then marched back to her. “Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t go outside—not for a horn, not for an animal in distress.”

“Thanks, you just made me scared to be in my own house.” She bit her lip and glanced out the window.

“A little fear isn’t a bad thing right now. Someone set fire to your property and someone physically threatened you.” He folded his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her against his chest again. There was no telling where that would end. “In fact, maybe you should think about heading down to California early for your show. Stop off in San Francisco on the way.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m trying to protect you, Scarlett. Let the sheriff’s department handle Rusty’s murder. Let me handle my own memories. I may not ever find out what happened that night, and maybe I’m not supposed to.”

“I don’t believe you’d be okay with that. It’s the reason you returned to Timberline—you need to face all your demons.”

He shook his head. “That could take years.”

“Oh, wait.” She held up her index finger. “I texted Dr. Shipman’s number to you earlier. Did you get it?”

“I’m not sure. Do you want to give it to me again at dinner tonight?”

She rolled her eyes. “Lucky for you, I also wrote it down and stuck it to my fridge.” She spun around and went into the kitchen, plucking a sticky note from the refrigerator.

With the yellow note stuck to her fingertip, she waved it at him as she returned. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He peeled the note from her finger and shoved it into his pocket. “See you at seven.”

When Jim got back to his place, Dax was stretched out on the couch watching a fishing show.

Jim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he tossed his keys on the kitchen table. “You been like that all afternoon?”

“I’m tired.”

“Did you happen to run into Chewy when you were out today?”

“Matter of fact, I did drop in on him.”

“So was it the stars aligning that brought the two of you back to Timberline at the same time? Rusty, too?”

“His woman’s mother lives in Port Angeles. She’s there visiting. Not much of a stretch for Chewy to come this way to check out his old stomping grounds. And I told you I don’t know nothing about Rusty.”

“Did you and Chewy talk about Rusty?”

“Uh-huh.” Dax sat up. “Look at that fish. I need to do some fishing while I’m here...maybe some hunting.”

Jim stopped at the entrance to the hallway, hooking a thumb in his front pocket. “You were never much for hunting.”

Dax looked up, his hand buried in a bag of microwave popcorn. “That was you and Slick, wasn’t it? He taught you to use a rifle like a pro. You put that knowledge to good use and started hunting another kind of animal.”

Jim flinched. “I saved more lives than I took.”

“I know that, J.T.” Dax crammed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. “Does that Scarlett feel the same way? She’s out here in Timberline trying to save a few turkeys from their final resting place on the Thanksgiving dinner table. And you were over there...”

Jim banged his fist on the wall and shut out the rest of Dax’s words by closing the bedroom door. As if he needed any more proof that Scarlett wouldn’t want to start something with him.

Even if she
had
saved his high school senior picture.

* * *

S
CARLETT
VENTURED
ONTO
the porch, looking from left to right. She’d been spooked enough without Jim driving it home for her that someone had her in his crosshairs—just like prey.

She crept to her car and then slammed the door and locked it, releasing a long breath. She hated that someone had made her fear her own shadow, on her own property.

Pulling the car in front of Jim’s cabin, she beeped the horn once. A rectangle of light appeared with the silhouette of Jim’s body framed in the center.

As he descended the steps, she held her breath but didn’t know why. His gait was more unsteady on steps, but he seemed to be able to navigate them with ease. He certainly didn’t need her worrying about him.

She popped the locks as he approached, grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and shoved it on the floor of the backseat. As he slid in next to her, she breathed in the scent of soap and leather. The smell would always remind her of Jim forever after.

She blinked and forced a smile to her lips. “Sutter’s? It’s the place to see and be seen in town.”

“That’s the purpose behind this date.”

“Date? Does that mean you’re picking up the tab?” She tried to keep her tone light. Was showing others they were more than just investigative partners really the only purpose behind their dinner?

“I will absolutely pick up the tab. How’d it look otherwise?” He snapped on his seat belt.

“Like you’re a cheapskate, so I’m glad we settled that.”

“How much can rabbit food possibly cost? I’m guessing you’re a cheap date.”

She snorted. “You’ve obviously never shopped at health food stores.”

She turned onto the main road to town and they drove in silence as Jim poked the radio buttons, never staying on a song for more than a few seconds. When they reached town, she parked in the public lot across from the restaurant.

Jim jumped from the car before she cut the engine and came around to the driver’s side and opened the door. “Just getting into character.”

She slid from the car and hooked her hand around his arm. “Me, too.”

He opened the door of the restaurant for her, and several heads turned their way. That was the thing about small towns—everybody got up in your business. Maybe word would get around that they were dating and not together because they were poking their noses into kidnappings.

The hostess tapped her pencil on her notebook. “There’s about a ten-minute wait right now unless you want to sit at the bar.”

“We’ll wait.” Jim steered Scarlett toward the wall across from the hostess stand and gestured to the paintings decorating it. “Do you ever display your work here? Too lowbrow?”

“Not at all. I’ll hang my landscapes of the area here occasionally. People like local art.”

“But you wouldn’t place your modern art here?”

“And scare everyone away? Nope.”

They studied the artwork together until the hostess called them over.

“Your table is ready. Do you mind? It’s kind of the center of the dining room. If you wait another ten minutes or so, I can probably seat you someplace more private.”

“That’s okay.” Scarlett charged ahead to the only empty table in the place.

Jim pulled out a chair for her, and they both thanked the hostess.

Leaning forward, Jim asked, “Is Jason’s girlfriend working tonight?”

“I have no idea.” She looked around the room. “Doesn’t look like it.”