Someone to Trust

He looked up at the sound of footsteps. Cate walked into the waiting room. Before he could stop himself, he asked. “Where are the kids?”

“The kids? You mean the twins and Lindsay?”

“Of course. I hope you didn’t just run out on them.”

Her brows drew close and her lips tightened. “I’d never leave three little kids alone. No matter how scared I was about Dad. Miss Tabitha’s with them.”

“They’ll be scared about their grandfather, don’t you think?”

“Once I hear how he’s doing, I’ll go home and make sure they know he’s going to…going to be okay.”

The wobble in Cate’s voice told him how scared she was. Sympathy again filled him, but before he could say anything, she went on.

“You didn’t really expect me to stay tucked under my blanket while Dad’s life was on the line, did you?”

The shine of tears brightened her chocolate eyes. Maybe he’d been too hard on her. He knew she loved her father. And Joe had told Rand a number of times how much Cate had changed, how responsible she was.

She probably also loved her niece and nephews and Rand was glad to know she’d arranged for Miss Tabitha, one of Loganton’s true pillars, to stay with the youngsters. But as wonderful as Miss Tabitha was, she was quite an elderly woman. Was she up to watching two ten-year-old boys? An eight-year-old girl?

Now that Joe Caldwell was injured, Rand would have to make sure the kids didn’t lack supervision. He owed as much to their late father, his older cousin Ross. In the interest of keeping peace, he decided not to say anything more to Cate about the kids. He’d just do what he thought best for them.

Rand hadn’t had much contact with them while he worked in Charlotte, but with Joe as their guardian, he knew they’d been in good hands. But now? Rand wasn’t about to just leave them in Cate’s care without at least checking up on their well-being.

“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” she said in the growing silence.

Rand shrugged. “The blaze is under control and the guys can finish up. I’m sure you know we have to wait for things to cool down before we can start looking for answers.” He shot a glance toward the large double doors to the ER. “The Tuckers are like family to me. I want to know how Wilma’s doing before I go out to the Pines to tell her folks.”

She arched a brow. “You’re going to tell them? I would have thought the new police chief would do that.”

“I told Neal to let the PD know I wanted to be the one to talk to them. I don’t want to see any more of the Tuckers in the hospital. It’s going to hit them hard, and if Chief Rodgers just shows up, it could make things worse.”

In a gesture full of exhaustion, Cate tipped her head back against her chair, her eyes closed but her features tense. “You might still want to take Ethan Rodgers with you when you go talk to them. After what happened tonight, I suspect they’re going to see a lot of him in his official capacity during the next few weeks.”

His gut tightened and he knew his initial instinct had been right on target. “What’s going on?”

Through half-closed eyelids, she gave him a long, measuring look. “Ethan’s going to need your help.”

Rand leaned forward, hands itching with the surge of adrenaline he always felt when a hunch paid off. “What kind of help?”

“Professional.” She sat up, shoved a hand through the thick mane of hot cocoa-brown waves. “Dad says it wasn’t just a fire. He says a meth lab blew up.”

Nose for trouble? His was dead on.

From the moment he’d arrived at the theater, his instincts had begun to alert him and not just to the scent of crime. They had tipped him off to something he hadn’t expected. He’d come home looking for a more peaceful, less stressful work environment. As an arson investigator, he’d had his fill of arsonists, a unique kind of thief and killer who took pleasure from the destruction they caused. And now, after the first serious fire he worked for the Loganton Fire Department, it turned out the thrill of the hunt still gave him a charge.

He stood. “Meth’s a killer—in more ways than one. Any idea who might be behind it?”

She shook her head and arched her brow. “Here I thought the answer to that question was what an arson investigation was all about.”

He conceded her point with a nod. Then he spun and headed out to find his answer. His mind whirled with the new information. What Cate had just told him colored the fire at the theater in a whole different palette.

There was a killer out there. He hadn’t killed Joe or Wilma, but anyone who cooked meth had blood on his hands, the blood of those he had hooked.

Rand realized he would have missed solving arson cases had there really been a difference between a small town and a large city. But people were people. A kaleidoscope of memories swirled through his head. Loss, injury, death—and the cesspool where arsonists lived and where he’d had to swim all those years to catch them. And yet, here he was, treading that same water again.

The constant contact with the worst side of society had nearly stolen every last drop of humanity he’d possessed. That’s why he’d come home…

…never thinking he’d wind up right back in the thick of it.

TWO

At six the next morning, Zoe Donovan, Cate’s best friend since kindergarten, finished her shift at the hospital blood lab. She marched right up to the ICU and insisted Cate leave with her. Cate tried to argue.

Zoe countered. “I’m not listening. The kids will be up any minute now and you know they’re going to squabble. Think of poor Miss Tabitha, all alone with the three darlings.”

Cate glared. “They do go at it with all the gusto of sibling rivalry, but Miss Tabitha is wonderful with them and I just checked in with her forty-five minutes ago. She said she had everything under control and I shouldn’t worry. She’s such a sweetheart. They’re always on their best behavior for her. This is Dad—”

“And he would want you home. His medical team’s fabulous—you know he’s in excellent hands. Tell me I’m wrong. Go on.” The light of challenge shone in her green eyes. “Besides, just think of all the times you and your dad have had to referee the trio just to wind up with something that might remind you of peace.”

“Fine. I’m a realist. They’re wonderful individuals, but perfect? Uh-uh. Especially not during the morning routine.”

Cate tugged her jacket tighter around her middle when they stepped out into the cold fall morning. “So how am I going to tell them their gramps is in critical condition? They’ve already gone through so much. First they lost their parents, then their grandmother three years later. Now this.”

“The Lord will find a way—or in this case, a word. Ask Him. He won’t let you down.”

“But this is Dad.” She closed her eyes, shook her head, took a breath. “The kids are little and he’s the only stability they’ve ever known.”

“That’s probably why he asked you to move back in a couple of years ago.”

Cate snorted. “You know he doesn’t need my help. And all that babble about my youth helping him parent them better than he would alone is just that: babble.”

Everyone in town had commented on his apparent lunacy. Predictions had hovered somewhere between the kids’ certain ruination and their imminent stints in the juvie system.

Their perceptions of Cate hadn’t changed much over the years. Even if she had. Or she thought she had.

“What if…what if all the people who said I couldn’t cut it were right? What if I blow it with them and something awful happens?”

“Come on. Look at your day care center.”

“That’s different. Parents know I hire only the best. They know their kids are safe with my teachers, some of whom they’ve known for years. I’m mainly the administrator. But Lindsay and the twins? Dad’s always been there to keep me from messing up too badly.”

Zoe brushed imaginary lint off Cate’s shoulder. “Dust that junk off, sister. I remember how scared you were, but it didn’t take you long to get into a family groove and you’ve done a great job, if I do say so myself.”

They crossed the parking lot, heading for Zoe’s yellow subcompact. Cate loved the tiny car, especially since she had to tool around town in a massive green minivan.

Zoe pulled out her keys and zapped the lock gizmo. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”

They pulled out into the light early morning traffic in silence. A moment later, Zoe piped up. Again.

“What’d you think of your dad’s newest hire?”

Rand’s features flew into Cate’s thoughts, vivid and strong. He’d changed, but not so much. He still reminded her of her dad’s protégé, the guy who could never do wrong back in high school.

Only better looking.

But she couldn’t let Zoe know she thought of Rand that way. “Eh…not much. He’s still Rand Mason, you know?”

“He did come to see about your dad. He cares.”

Cate shrugged. “He’s always cared about Dad. Of course he’d come see how Dad’s doing.”

At the light, Zoe shot her a sideways glance. “Hm…just to see about your dad? Didn’t look like it to me.”

Intense blue eyes materialized in Cate’s memory. “Um…yeah. He gave me the third degree about the kids. He doesn’t think much of me.”

Zoe gunned the pedal. “Coulda fooled me. He looked pretty interested when he was talking to you right before I got there.”

“No way! Not Rand. He’s not interested in me. He doesn’t like me. Trust me. A woman can tell when a man can’t stand her. He can’t stand me.”

“Uh-huh.” Zoe chuckled, and Cate’s frustration grew. Rand had made her uncomfortable. But arguing with Zoe was a no-win situation. Besides, she had three kids waiting for her. And Cate knew all about the weight of parental responsibility. The fire had made hers even greater.

Cate glared at her friend. “Just drive, will ya? I’ve had a horrible night, my dad’s in the ICU, and the three kids are probably driving Miss Tabitha nuts by now. That’s the only thing I can do anything about right now, so let me get going to do what I can.”

“The lady doth protest—”

“Do you think Dad’s really going to be okay? I’m afraid…” She drew a deep breath. “I have to trust the hospital with Dad’s life. That’s just all there is to it. And they’d better not let me down. I’m not ready to do this parenting thing all on my own all of the time.”

“Get over yourself, girl. You’re gonna do it, you’re gonna do it fine and you’re not gonna do it alone, not while he’s in the hospital and not when he comes home. You have friends who’ll help, like me. I’m not chopped liver, you know. Besides, the Lord’s gonna be right there with you, remember?”

“Yeah. I remember. I just want Dad home again.”

Zoe slowed to pull up behind the van. When she shifted the car into idle, she reached out and put a gentle hand on Cate’s arm. “And your dad will be home again. Have faith. And a little bit of trust won’t hurt either.”

Tears welled in Cate’s eyes. “You’re right. Faith and trust, faith and trust. Got it.”

They said their goodbyes and she headed for the van, her gaze on the rosy tint of the eastern sky. As the day became more real, details crossed her mind. Had Robby run the dishwasher last night? He often forgot to follow through on his chores. She decided it would have to be a cereal morning. Tommy would likely howl, because he loved his pancakes, but no way was she about to cook anything when she got home.

Lindsay would take the news about her grandfather harder than the twins. She was the youngest, only an infant when her parents had died, but that wasn’t really the issue. Sweet Lindsay had a quiet nature, so much so as to seem almost withdrawn much of the time. She teared up at sappy commercials and she was shier than one of Miss Tabitha’s night-blooming primroses.

As much as she loved her niece, Cate struggled to understand someone so different from her. She’d always prided herself on her tough and scrappy approach to life.

Another pang of uncertainty pierced her. Was she really up to raising three kids? Her schedule usually kept her too busy to think about such things, so she did what she had to do to keep life moving along its regular tracks. Now, with Dad’s serious injuries, she’d been derailed. She was going to be on her own. Would she fail and prove all the town gossips right?

Ten feet away from the van, she caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window. The dark shadows under her eyes made her look as though she needed a doctor herself. Her cheeks lacked color and her hair resembled tangled ropes of taffy—the real thing, not the carnival-style, rainbow colored kind. Even though once upon a time, rainbow hair had been her thing, as Rand had reminded her. She sighed.

Still, rainbow hair or not, she didn’t look like she could be trusted to babysit, much less raise Mandy’s kids. Why Dad had thought she should, why he’d decided to trust her with his beloved grandchildren, she’d never know. Not that he had much choice now, thanks to his injuries.

Fear struck. Her knees wobbled and she leaned against the side of the van, her mind going a mile a minute.

Dad had always been calm and competent when the kids’ needs threatened to overwhelm Cate. But now that she thought about it, he’d started to turn the day-to-day stuff over to her almost the moment she moved back in. He’d said more than once that the kids would grow her up now that she’d become their stand-in mom. So far, she didn’t really feel all that different, but she had learned one very valuable truth: motherhood was not for wimps.

When she opened her eyes, the blackened theater loomed before her. The events of the night tugged at her and she didn’t resist. She made her way to the old structure, then just stood and stared, letting the sadness and anger wash over her.

Who? Who’d been making poison to feed to the town’s youth? Who would destroy this beautiful building? Who would have risked people’s lives? And for nothing more than pure greed.

Cate thought of Loganton’s residents. She’d grown up in town, so she knew everyone. Even guided by suspicion, she couldn’t come up with one potential guilty soul.

But someone was guilty. Dad and Wilma were in the ICU.

As far as she was concerned, whoever was behind the meth lab was going down. Cate would do everything in her power to see to it. Even if she had to find the culprit herself.

As awkward as she felt around him, she was glad Rand had come back to town. His arson investigation experience should serve the fire department well. But if he came up with no answers, well, then she’d just dig up those answers herself.

Well aware that she shouldn’t, Cate slipped under the yellow tape and walked up to the theater. The tall glass doors wore a thick coat of black soot on the inside and she couldn’t look through them as she’d loved to do ever since her parents had taken her and Mandy to a special Mother’s Day showing of The Sound of Music. She’d always loved the theater, and movies of all kinds.

Cupping her hands, Cate blocked the growing sunlight and leaned closer to the door. The soot layer did make it impossible to see, even from this vantage point. As she strained, she heard a sound to her right. She didn’t see anything unusual, but still couldn’t stop herself from pursuing her curiosity. She rounded the corner and arrived at the main exit. A montage of memories flew through her head. She remembered all the films she’d watched inside with her girlfriends. After the show, they’d leave in a cluster, giggling if they’d watched a comedy, sniffling if it had been a heart-tugger of some kind.

All so innocent, in stark contrast to what the basement had most recently housed.

The steel door was locked. No evidence of the fire on this side of the building. Even the sidewalk was clear. Clear but for a piece of trash three feet past the side door.

Cate went to pick it up, but when she leaned down, she froze. The trash turned out to be a twisted lump of plastic, blackened by the fire. From the top, a metal clip, the kind on cheap key chains, stuck straight out as though pointing to the theater.

A quick glance up and down the sidewalk revealed no other debris, nothing. And while she didn’t give it much importance, Cate couldn’t discount what she’d found, either. One of the firefighters might have dropped it when he’d carried something else from inside the building, and it might be relevant to the investigation.

She couldn’t ignore it. Nor could she pick it up. As the daughter of a firefighter, she knew better. So she reached for her phone to dial the station.

Next thing she knew, a blow to the back of her head knocked her off her feet. She smashed her forehead against the sidewalk.

“Oh!” Her eyes filled with sudden tears. Behind her, footsteps pelted away. She scrambled upright, then stumbled in the direction they’d gone. “Hey! What was that about?”

By the time she reached the corner, there was no one in sight. Cate rubbed her forehead, and then wiped the tears from her eyes.

A cold shiver ran through her. Had she interrupted something? Had she seen something she shouldn’t have?

Maybe someone had not wanted to be seen near the theater. Had her presence threatened the meth dealer? Or had he just wanted to make sure she didn’t see him at the scene of his crimes?

It didn’t matter. Not right then. What mattered was to get someone with experience to take a look at that…that plastic thing. Cate followed through with her earlier start, and dialed the P.D. They asked her a handful of questions, then promised to send help.

Cate drew a bracing breath in preparation for what she had to do next. She dialed the fire station.

Rand answered, exhaustion in his voice. When she identified herself, he asked if she planned on sleeping.

“Not yet, but soon. Zoe Donovan gave me a ride to the van when she finished her shift. I…uhm…stopped to look at the theater, and found something strange near the side exit. Thought you might want to see it before people start walking around later this morning. Do you think it might be important?”

In a tight voice, ripe with disapproval, he asked her to describe her discovery. When she finished, he didn’t answer right away.

“Can’t tell you much about it right now,” he finally said. “But no matter whether it’s important or not, it’s something for us to look at, not you. Last I remember, there was yellow tape around the theater. As the fire chief’s daughter, you know that means stay away. Don’t touch the plastic thing, and stay put till I get there. I’m on my way.”

Great. Yet another chance to come face-to-face with Rand’s disapproval.

But she’d deal with Rand’s attitude some other time. Right then, the only thing that mattered was finding the creep who’d built the meth lab in the basement of the Loganton Theater.

The one who’d almost killed Wilma and her dad.

Rand tried to contain his irritation as he stared at Cate. “And you just decided to duck under the tape and walk around an arson fire investigation for…what? The fun of it?”

She didn’t like his comment. Fire blazed from her dark eyes. “Not for the fun of it. That’s ridiculous.”

“Then tell me again why you were on the premises.”

“I wasn’t on the premises. Not exactly.” She blew a wavy strand of tawny hair from her forehead. “I came to get the van, and walked up to the theater. It’s so sad how, after all these years, it’s ruined now. I started to remember all the shows I watched here.”

The way she clamped down her lips told him how much he’d irritated her, but that was too bad. He wasn’t sure he believed her story. He didn’t know if she’d told him everything she knew. “Ahem!”

His less-than-subtle nudge got her going again. “Then I walked down the side street. That’s when I saw the…that blob. Even I could tell it had been burnt, so I went to see what it might be. I didn’t touch it, but while I was looking, someone came up from behind, and knocked me to the ground. Do you think they were trying to scare me away?”

“Someone? Knocked you to the ground?” What was she trying to pull? An early morning attacker?

She rubbed the middle of her forehead, and now that he looked, he could see a red bump, maybe a scrape, right where she’d placed her fingers. He waited for her answer.

She shrugged. “Someone knocked me over. I don’t know why. I just know I didn’t touch the plastic, and I didn’t trip myself. No one else came by.”

Her expression, her tone of voice, her body language were all consistent, still…“Coincidences don’t happen in my line of work.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she clamped her lips tight. She wasn’t happy with his response, certainly not his skepticism. Too bad. It was part of who he was, the job he had to do. And part of dealing with her—the past, memories and all that baggage.

“The only thing I can do,” she said, her voice earnest and serious, “is tell you the truth. It’s up to you whether you believe me or not. I hope you do.”

As Cate stood before him, a flash of remembrance took him back eight years. He’d spotted her across the street from his cousin’s mangled vehicle, Lindsay in her arms, the twin boys on either side. But moments before he got to the scene, moments before the children’s mother and father had died, she’d been in the car that caused the wreck. A car driven by the boyfriend who’d had too much to drink.

Rand couldn’t say if there was any chance he’d ever believe her. So it was best to get on with the task before him. He jiggled a plastic baggie containing the melted lump. “This thing’s going out for testing. I’m sure once the lab gets a handle on what it might be, I’ll have more questions for you. I’ll see you then.”

He took off, then remembered the scrape on her forehead. He stopped, turned to face her again. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call the ambulance? That looks…sore.”

She glared and shook her head. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Just find out who did this.”

He nodded, spun and walked away, the touch of her angry stare as though it were a flame against his back.

Ten minutes after Rand Mason walked away outside the theater, Cate again tamped down her anger and guided the van up the long drive at the old Caldwell place. The white house with black shutters had once been the heart of a real farm. Cate’s great-grandparents had sold a hefty chunk of the land during the Great Depression, and then, over the years, her grandparents and finally Mom and Dad had sold off the rest of the fields. No one had been interested in raising chickens or growing crops.

The families who’d bought the land hadn’t purchased it for farming, either. Many had built minimansions, which by contrast made the Caldwell place and the handful of other vintage homes left on the road seem older than they really were. But the Caldwell place never looked shabby or neglected. Dad wouldn’t have let it, even if he’d had to slave over the property every minute he spent away from the station to get the work done.

Cate dragged herself up the porch steps and unlocked the door. The scent of home surrounded her. Furniture polish, fabric softener and a lingering hint of the cinnamon rolls she’d baked the day before mingled into a perfume that brought tears to her eyes with its familiarity.

Miss Tabitha Cranston, the sweet older woman who ran a boarding house in town and to whom she’d turned for help when Neal had called, hurried to hug her. “How is he?”

“Not good, but fighting.”

“That’s the Joe we all know and love.” She slipped her arms into her ivory colored cardigan, picked up her handbag and stepped onto the porch. “Oh, dear! Will you look at your forehead? What happened?”

Almost as if with a will of its own, her hand flew up to touch the sore spot. The whole episode still made her uneasy, but she didn’t think it would be a good idea to worry Miss Tabitha any further.

“Oh, it’s nothing much. Don’t worry. I just didn’t watch where I was walking this morning, and I tripped on the sidewalk. I’ll be okay.”

Miss Tabitha tsk-tsked. “Make sure you put ice on it, okay?”