Barbara Warren - Dangerous Inheritance

“Make it eight, then. Nick will give you directions.” He turned and walked away. A handful of raindrops splattered around them and Nick motioned toward her car.

“We’d better get. It’s going to start pouring in a few minutes. I’m parked just around the corner. Follow me, and I’ll show you the way to the motel.”

“First I have to lock the house.”

They hurried back to the porch and he waited while she climbed the steps, checked the light switch and locked the door before jogging over to their separate cars.

Nick walked around the corner to his car and drove back to the driveway, pulling in front of Macy to lead the way. He watched in his rearview mirror, making sure she followed him. She hadn’t been all that cooperative, and he wouldn’t put it past her to speed off in the other direction.

Of course, the way he’d surprised her might have something to do with how she’d acted. The minute he’d felt the softness of her shoulders, seen the glimmer of that long hair flashing across her face, he knew he’d messed up. Even in the pale glow of the streetlight, that copper-colored hair held a fire of its own. A man could warm his hands by it.

Since she was from out of town the possibilities of her being their mystery burglar were practically nonexistent. But why didn’t she remember living here? After all, she’d spent a few years in this house. She should remember something. But what was she doing here, alone, at this time of night? Her explanation had been lame, to put it mildly. And what was she doing inside the house?

Macy Douglas still had some explaining to do.

Macy followed him into the parking lot of a Motel 6, the windshield wipers slapping at a barrage of raindrops. Nick got out and hurried toward her car, shoulders hunched and head ducked against the wind. She rolled down the window and he stuck his head inside, the rain pelting his shoulders.

She stared at him, looking startled as their eyes met—and held. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. A reaction he hadn’t expected and definitely didn’t want. Macy leaned back as if trying to put a little distance between them. Maybe he needed to try that, too. Regardless of how lovely she was, he didn’t need any more complications in his life.

She seemed almost as surprised as he was. After a split-second hesitation, he said, “You’ll be all right here. I’ll drop by in the morning and show you the way to the police station. Be ready about seven thirty and we’ll pick up a bite to eat first. There’s a restaurant in town that puts out a good breakfast.”

“That will be fine, I guess,” she muttered.

He nodded and stepped back. “I’ll go with you to check in and get your room number.”

They hurried toward the office, Nick striding along with her. She probably didn’t want to check in with a policeman standing beside her. He could understand that. It wasn’t the best way to make a good impression.

The motel clerk eyed them curiously, but he assigned her a room and handed her a key. Nick lifted her suitcase out of the car. A curtain of rain danced on the pavement and bounced off the motel roof, soaking them both. She unlocked the door and turned to face him. Crystal raindrops glistened in her hair, and those sea-green eyes fringed with thick dark lashes seemed to warm for a moment.

She smiled suddenly and his heartbeat kicked up another notch. “Thank you for showing me the way to the motel. I’d probably still be driving around, lost in a strange town. Now you’d better get in out of the rain.”

He nodded and handed her a card. “You need anything, call me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He noticed she watched him run back to his patrol car before going inside and locking the door.

Nick drove away from the motel thinking about Macy Douglas. The sudden flare of attraction he’d felt that moment in the motel parking lot had surprised him, but he couldn’t deny there had been a spark between them. The way she had stood up to him and to Sam, not giving an inch, was impressive. He’d give her one thing, she was a fighter. And she had the kind of beauty that would be hard for any man to resist.

He’d known her grandmother Lassiter, and everyone in town knew about the brutal murder of Opal’s daughter, Megan Douglas, and that Steve, Megan’s husband, had been convicted of killing her and had died in prison. It was part of the town’s history. A part most of them would just as soon forget.

He drew up to a stoplight, his thoughts still on Macy. Opal had led a quiet life, not getting involved in community affairs, but he had a hunch her granddaughter would be different. Yet he sensed vulnerability behind that feisty behavior, as if she were afraid of something. Maybe he could find out more tomorrow at breakfast.

Nick hurried home to change into dry clothes and then drove to the police station. Sam greeted him as he entered. “You get the Douglas woman settled all right?”

“She’s at Motel 6. Or at least that’s where I left her. Why? What’s up?”

“I’m wondering why she came to town, and why now. She hasn’t been back since she was a kid, and I’ve got a hunch she’s up to something. You’re too young to remember what it was like when Megan Douglas was killed. She was well liked, went to church, owned and ran her own business. Steve was something else.”

“How so?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. “Steve had a favorite in the state senate race, and it wasn’t our Garth Nixon. Steve went all out, using his newspaper to influence the voters in this area. Pretty much divided the town—even divided the whole district. Cost Garth the election. I’d hate to see it all stirred up again. You never know how people will react, and if she’s anything like her dad, things could get out of hand.”

“What does that have to do with his wife’s death?”

“The police chief was Garth’s cousin. When Steve was arrested, some people figured it was payback time, like maybe the police didn’t try hard enough to find the real killer.”

Nick stared at Sam, thinking about what he had just said. The police had been accused of playing dirty? His father had been a cop back then. No way would his dad have been a part of anything like that—not the man he remembered and had looked up to. “You can’t be serious. My dad was an honest cop. He’d have quit before he stood by and let someone pull something wrong. You know better than that.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m guessing there could have been some dirty work going on. There’s always that possibility. And no, I don’t think your dad would have taken part, but he might not have known about it. I don’t know all that much about what went on, and at the time it wasn’t any of my business, so I really didn’t care all that much.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “That was what, twelve or thirteen years ago?”

“More like seventeen, I believe. Macy was just a kid. He knocked her out, almost killed her. And that was another problem. Regardless of Steve’s politics, a lot of people had trouble believing he’d kill his wife or hurt his own kid. He was crazy about that girl.”

Nick remembered the way Macy Douglas had stared at the old house. Something had brought her to Walnut Grove and he had a feeling it was rooted in the past.

“If he was innocent, that means there might still be a killer out there who doesn’t want to get caught.”

TWO

Morning light filtered through the blinds as Macy glanced around the motel room. This wasn’t turning out to be a great day. First she needed to get through the meeting with Sam Halston. Then she had the meeting with the lawyer, another thing she wasn’t looking forward to. According to him, her grandmother Lassiter had been dead for several months, but he’d had to close out the estate and then it took a while to locate her. And then after seeing the lawyer she would move into her grandmother’s house. She had no idea what she was getting into, but there were only two options: carry this through or turn tail and run.