Beth Carpenter - Alaskan Hideaway

But she’d missed one little detail. She should have left the back door open. Mac couldn’t be expected to believe Blossom had closed and locked the door behind her. Yeah, if Ursula thought her little plan was going to work on him, she had another think coming.

He jumped into the SUV and turned around. Could she have arranged the injured eagle, too? He couldn’t imagine her trapping an eagle and somehow getting it stuck in the fence without injuring herself. But then, the woman had a tame squirrel. For all he knew, she might have a pet eagle trained to pretend it had a broken wing.

He pulled up in front of her porch, jumped out and ran up the steps. He reached up to pound on the door, but paused to take a breath. Better to let her carry through on this charade, see exactly what she was up to. He rang the bell.

A minute later, Ursula’s smiling face greeted him. “Oh, good. You got my note. Come in.”

He stepped in far enough to allow her to shut the door. Across the room, Blossom lay on a rug in front of the fire, getting belly rubs from Rory. She rolled to her feet and ran to greet him, pushing her head against his hand. He rubbed her ears.

Rory chased after her. “Me and Blossom were playing. And I gave her a dog biscuit. But I didn’t share my cookie ’cause chocolate is bad for dogs.”

Ursula put an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I found Blossom running along the highway. She must have taken advantage of that hole in the fence. You found the fencing I left?”

“Yes.” Mac kept his gaze on the dog, so Ursula wouldn’t read his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m pretty sure there’s a roll of bailing wire in your toolbox. If not, I have some you can use.”

“Uh-huh. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I was picking up a few other things.”

He met her eyes. “I pay my debts. How much for the fencing?”

Oh, she was good. Her expression was the perfect mix of surprise and hurt at his brusque tone. This wasn’t playing into her plan to have him indebted to her. “About twenty dollars, I think. I’ll find the receipt.”

“And the key.”

“Key?” Wide-eyed innocence. She could be a professional actress with those skills. Maybe the whole time she’d let him babble on about Andi, she’d known exactly who he was and what happened. Getting him to sell his property might not even be her end game. She might be planning to sell his story to the tabloids.

“The key to my house. You have one, don’t you?”

“Oh. Yes, I do. I’ll get it.” She left him standing beside the door and disappeared into her kitchen, returning a few minutes later carrying a key and a slip of paper. “Nineteen ninety-five. Here’s your key.” A paper tag attached to the key identified it as “Betty’s House.”

Mac nodded. “Is this the only copy?”

Ursula narrowed her eyes. “As far as I know. I only have it because I used to water Betty’s plants when she visited her granddaughter in the lower forty-eight. I don’t know if she gave keys to anyone else.”

Mac nodded. “I’m having the locks changed anyway, so if you find other copies, you can throw them away.” He put a subtle emphasis on find. She noticed, judging by the way she stiffened. He opened his wallet and pulled out a twenty. “Thank you for picking up the lamb wire.”

“I’ll get your change.” She turned.

“That’s okay.”

She ignored him and crossed the room to fish a coin from a pottery bowl on the mantle. She returned and handed him a nickel. “I pay my debts, too.”

“I’m sure you do.” He slipped the nickel into his pocket. He should go, but he had to ask, “What happened with the eagle?”

“They think he’ll make a full recovery and they’ll be able to release him eventually.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yes.” She stood perfectly still, watching him. The girl looked back and forth between them, her eyebrows drawn together as though she couldn’t quite decipher what was happening.

“I appreciate you both taking care of the dog.” Which he did. Even if Blossom had never been in any real danger, at least they had cared for her. And the little girl had no way of knowing what her godmother was up to. With a smile for Rory and a curt nod for Ursula, he stepped through the door. Blossom cocked her head and stayed where she was, obviously reluctant to leave. He had to call her twice before she came and jumped into the SUV.

He glanced over at the inn before he put the car in gear. Ursula stood on the porch with Rory in front of her, her arms wrapped around the girl’s shoulders. He couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, but what should it matter? If he had his way, he’d never see either of them again. Mac shifted into gear and drove away.

CHAPTER FOUR

MAC SAT IN his living room, holding his knife in one hand and a piece of birch in the other, but he wasn’t carving. Instead, he stared at the flames dancing behind the glass window of the woodstove. Was he missing something? Ursula’s reaction when she handed him the key didn’t quite fit. She’d looked...hurt.

He shrugged. Of course she did. She was an expert manipulator. She knew exactly what buttons to push, what expressions to adopt. He’d learned a few things in the little over half a century he’d been on earth, much of it from sad experience. Fame and money attracted con artists and moochers like ants to a picnic. He seldom even wasted the energy resenting them, just wrote it off as an occupational hazard.

So why was he so disappointed in Ursula? Maybe it was because she’d seemed real. She was attractive, but not in an obvious way. Just classic bone structure, healthy skin and an infectious smile. He liked her hair, the way she’d left in the natural silver, short but still feminine. She was a good listener. And she seemed to care. Of course, that was stock in trade for people like her. Listen, learn and take advantage.

Blossom rose from her bed and stretched, head low over her front paws, tail poking into the air. She padded into the kitchen and took a long and sloppy drink from her bowl. Her nails clicked across the vinyl floor into the laundry room beyond, where she made a scratching noise.

Mac stood and followed her without bothering to slip on his shoes, wondering why she didn’t scratch on the front door. When he got to the kitchen, enough light filtered into the laundry room to see her on her back legs, pawing at the back door latch. What was she up to?

He’d noticed the levers on the doors looked much more modern than the rest of the house. Probably easier for arthritic hands to operate than the original doorknobs. Within a minute, Blossom had managed to catch the lever with her paw and pull it down. The door swung open, and she ran outside. When the heck did she learn to do that?

He flipped on a light and went to examine the door. Before he reached it, a gust of wind banged it shut. Just as he thought, the latch was turned to the lock position. What he hadn’t realized was the inside lever still operated. He reached outside without letting the door shut and tried it. Sure enough, from the outside, it was locked.

Blossom pranced to the door, head held high. Mac let her inside and locked the door behind her, this time using the deadbolt. He hadn’t bothered with the deadbolts before, since he didn’t have a key, but that was before he realized he had a canine Houdini on his hands. Tomorrow, he’d call a locksmith. And fix that hole in the fence.