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He watched her for a moment, then raised his brows at Char.
“The divorce was final a year ago,” she explained. “He was … abusive.” Faith didn’t react in any way, so she continued, “He’s been coming around lately.”
“How often?”
“Once or twice a week,” Faith said softly.
The intense, dark gaze turned back to Charlotte.
“Faith thinks he has been drunk a few of the times. He clearly wants her back. Sometimes he’s cajoling, sometimes he’s angry. Rory was angry a lot.”
She might have imagined the way his expression hardened, but she didn’t think so.
“Our dad was injured recently when the tractor overturned. He’s still in the hospital. I’m just here for a visit, to help out until he’s on his feet again. My first day home, Tuesday, Rory came by and mistook me for Faith. He harangued me for looking like a slut. Apparently he doesn’t appreciate multiple piercings.” She fingered one of her ears. “Perhaps fortunately, Gray walked in right then and Rory stormed out. I’m afraid this fire is exactly the kind of thing he’d do.” She paused. “Faith doesn’t agree.”
Her sister raised her head. “Rory’s never done anything criminal.”
“Putting you in the hospital wasn’t a crime?” Charlotte asked.
“Well … not in the same way.” She turned a look of appeal on Chief Wheeler. “It’s just that I think there are likelier possibilities. Gosh, this could have just been garden-variety vandalism, couldn’t it?”
His voice sounded gentle, considering its deep, rough tenor. “Yes. That’s a good possibility. Especially if you’ve annoyed any teenagers lately.”
Almost eagerly, Faith explained about the boy she’d fired just a few weeks back. When she got to the point of giving his name, though, the eagerness had dwindled. “Sean. Sean Coffey. The thing is, I really think he’s basically a nice kid. He’s on the football team, and his dad is a teacher. Not at my school, at Roosevelt Elementary. And I did catch Sean red-handed. He couldn’t complain that I was being unfair.”
“You didn’t report him to the police.”
She shook her head. “It was only twenty dollars. And yes, I know it probably wasn’t the first time he’d taken money, but it might have been, mightn’t it? I hated the idea of being responsible for him having a juvenile record.”
“Did you tell his parents?” This wasn’t quite a question—tinged as it was with resignation, the police chief already knew the answer.
“No.”
His mouth twisted. “Well, just because he got lucky doesn’t mean this kid isn’t resentful. This strikes me as something a teenager would do. Impulsive and mean-spirited.”
Rory, Charlotte thought, was also impulsive and mean-spirited. She had a suspicion his emotional maturity had stuck somewhere in the midteenage years. But she’d said enough last night and didn’t want to further upset Faith.
Wheeler glanced at Charlotte. “This Hardesty. Does he live in West Fork?”
Faith had gone back to examining the tablecloth. “Yes.”
“Anyone else you can think of?”
Both sisters shook their heads. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure Faith would have noticed if someone hated her with a passion.
“All right.” Chief Wheeler closed the notebook and pocketed it, swallowed the last of his coffee and pushed back the chair. “I’ll be talking to neighbors in case anyone saw anything, and to Hardesty and Coffey both. I’ll let you know what I learn.”
Faith and Charlotte both rose to their feet, too. There was something rather intimidating about Ben Wheeler when he towered over them.
Faith looked flustered, and Charlotte remembered her sister hadn’t yet had breakfast. “It’s almost ten,” she said. “I’ll walk Chief Wheeler out and open up shop. You need something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Faith sounded genuinely grateful. “I’ll hurry.”
After assuring her sister that she could manage for half an hour, Charlotte allowed Chief Wheeler to open the back door for her.
The day was already too hot, as far as she was concerned. She had begun to miss the fogs that rolled in from the Pacific Ocean on hot San Francisco days.
As they walked toward the barn, Charlotte said, “So what did we do to deserve the police chief’s personal attention?”
He appeared to be amused. “Gray called me. He considered your fire a priority.”
Oh.
After a moment, Charlotte said, “Faith doesn’t want to think Rory is a danger, but he gave me the serious creeps.”
“So I gathered.” He glanced down at her. “Will you call the next time he shows up?”
“I will. I told him he wasn’t welcome on our land. I doubt Faith would call 9-1-1, though, just because he stopped by. She’s delusional where he’s concerned.” Blunt, she thought, but true.
They were nearly to the barn before Wheeler spoke again. “Does she still feel some attachment for him?”
Charlotte frowned. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just her nature to expect the best of anyone.” She made a face. “We may look alike, but that’s as far as our resemblance goes.”
Some emotion flickered across his face, too quickly for her to read. They had reached the front of the barn and the hard-packed dirt parking lot, where his squad car waited. Charlotte dug the barn key out of her front pocket, since they had locked up earlier when they returned to the kitchen.
Why lock the barn door once the horses have gotten out? she thought irreverently, but of course Faith had been right; they didn’t want customers to wander around unattended.
A car was hesitating on the highway right now, the driver apparently drawn by the large hand-painted signs promising, Antiques! Fresh Produce! Plant Nursery! Local Arts & Crafts! Corn Maze! No, she reminded herself, the sign for the corn maze was covered for now.
Wheeler cleared his throat. “This is a little bit unprofessional … Hell, probably a whole lot unprofessional. But I’m wondering if you’d consider having dinner with me.”
Charlotte blinked in surprise and faced him again. She’d have sworn his gaze had lingered more on her sister’s face than hers, but who knew? Maybe Faith’s obvious shyness or unease or whatever it had been had scared him off. And, hey, they did look alike.
He was a really sexy man.
In a flash, she thought, If I start dating Ben Wheeler, I’ll be safe from Gray. And Ben was attractive; she could enjoy spending time with him, maybe even kissing him. Couldn’t she?
“Sure.” She smiled at him. “That sounds like fun. When and where?”
“Why not tonight? There’s a pretty good new restaurant right here in town. Not too fancy, but good food, if you like steaks.”
“I like steaks.”
They agreed on a time, and he left in the usual cloud of dust as the first customers of the day pulled in. Charlotte unlocked the barn, turned on the lights and welcomed the older couple, who advanced uncertainly into the cavernous interior of the barn.
“Plants are outside,” she told them. “Let me just open those doors.” Seeing them both staring toward the burned side of the barn, she added, “Uh … we had a bit of excitement last night. I apologize for the mess. Probably local teenagers, but we’re mad as all get out.”
Throwing open the side doors and letting in the sunshine, she mused, A date. Imagine that, and refused to let herself wonder what Gray Van Dusen had been about to say to her, right before Faith and Ben Wheeler had interrupted them.
“DAD THINKS THEY’LL LET HIM come home on onday, but he’s still going to be bedridden for a couple of weeks,” Charlotte said, while she used the steak knife to cut a bite of filet mignon.
“Are you two going to be able to take care of him and run the business, too?” Ben Wheeler asked.
They were in a booth at the River Fork Steakhouse, their dinners in front of them. They had already gotten the getting-to-know-each-other stuff out of the way. She’d learned that he had grown up in Los Angeles and been a lieutenant with the LAPD when he decided he’d like a different lifestyle and had looked around for a small town that needed an experienced cop to head its police department.
“It’s a change,” he said, not sounding so sure the change was a good one. “I didn’t expect the politics.”
“Politics?” she asked, surprised.
“The city council. Some days, our esteemed councilors make me wish for a good old-fashioned liquor-store holdup.”
Charlotte had laughed, but he’d looked as if he almost meant it. Small town policing must be considerably more aggravating than it had looked from afar.
After hearing about what she did for a living and sympathizing about the layoff, he’d asked about her father and their plans for the farm.
“Faith has thrown herself into this heart and soul,” she said. “But she’s a teacher, too. Kindergarten. In just a few weeks, she’ll be getting her classroom ready. I haven’t started looking for a job yet, but I can’t imagine staying past September, say. I don’t want to run an antique store slash produce market slash corn maze.”
It was a cry from her heart. Helping out for a few weeks, sure, but she couldn’t imagine what made Faith want to do this long-term. And Dad, laconic at the best of times, was not a man made for retail work. But if they hired too much help, they’d pare their small profit down to nothing.
Faith, Charlotte was very much afraid, had her finger in a dike that was going to crumble no matter what.
“Well, we’ll see,” she said with a sigh.
“Could be your sister didn’t want to spend too much time thinking after the divorce,” the man across the table from her observed. “This was one way of keeping busy.”
“I suppose that’s possible.” Reluctantly she examined the idea. Faith had always clung to the familiar. She’d never considered going far away to college. To her, it had seemed completely natural, after graduating, to apply for a teaching job in her hometown, and marry a boy she’d known since high school. That was the life she’d always wanted. But then Mom died, Faith had to give up on her marriage, and Dad started talking about selling the farm. Too much change.
She couldn’t save Mom or her marriage, but the farm was different. So she’d focused all her desperate need for a predictable life on this long shot. God knows, Charlotte admitted to herself, Faith had melded creativity and hard work to succeed to an astonishing extent. Just … not enough. Especially given that business was sure to become something between slow and nonexistent come winter.
She reminded herself that somehow, Dad and Faith had eked through the last year.
Uh-huh. On Faith’s paychecks from the school district.
“You haven’t mentioned the fire,” Charlotte said, changing the subject. “Did you learn anything today?”
“None of the neighbors saw a thing.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“No,” he agreed, and took a bite before adding, “I talked to Hardesty. He gave me an earful about you. Said of course you’d blame him.”
“Jerk,” she muttered.
“Insisted he loves Faith and knows how important the farm is to her.”
Charlotte scoffed under her breath.
“Yeah, that could be taken one of two ways, couldn’t it?” Ben remarked. “I’ll tell you, though, my gut feeling was that he didn’t do it.”
Every instinct Charlotte had disagreed, but it was true that she was biased. “So now what?” she asked.
“I couldn’t track Coffey down today. His mom says he’ll be home tomorrow.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Your sister ever considered getting a big dog?”
“We had a dog when I was growing up, but the highway is a worry, and what good would a dog do if he was kenneled or in the house at night?”
“Dogs bark. You’d have an early warning system.”
“That’s true.” She thought about it for a moment before agreeing, “I’ll suggest it to Faith. She’s always loved animals.”
“Just don’t let her bring home a cute puppy. You need a dog with some teeth right now.”
He must share some of her unease, Charlotte thought, or they’d be talking about something else. Like their favorite music or how they felt about people who used the express checkout in the grocery store even though they had too many items. Whether they were morning people or night owls. The little stuff that mattered, when a man and woman were drawn enough to each other.
“Was it Gray who hired you?” she heard herself ask, and cringed inwardly.
Ben didn’t look surprised at her question. “I guess you could say so, although I had the impression the city council had a pretty strong voice.”
“So you must be doing okay at politicking,” she pointed out.
He sawed at his steak with unnecessary force. “They didn’t hate me then. You’re right about that. Their enthusiasm for me started to wane when I told them know how grossly understaffed and underequipped their police department was. Asking them to open the checkbook was the equivalent of giving a woman a poison ivy bouquet on the first date.”
Charlotte laughed. The smile was still lingering on her mouth when her gaze was drawn to a man walking into the restaurant. Gray, wearing the suit from earlier, although he’d now added the coat.
He was scanning the restaurant as he walked in, just as she’d noticed Ben doing. Ben was probably assessing diners for their likelihood of turning violent, though, while Gray presumably had voters on his mind. No matter what he was thinking, what it meant was that he saw her as quickly as she saw him. His stride checked as he looked at her, then at Ben, who was turning his head to see what had caught her attention.
Charlotte’s stomach knotted at the expression on Gray’s face. Shock, followed by … She wasn’t sure. Anger? Hurt? Something that darkened his eyes and made a muscle jump on his jaw.
Someone called his name, and he very deliberately turned away to greet a couple at one of the tables with an easy smile. Charlotte looked away from him to find that Ben was contemplating her. He didn’t say anything, though, for which she was grateful.
She asked him about juvenile crime in West Fork and whether drugs were getting to be a problem here, but didn’t hear his answer. She was too conscious of Gray, making his way around the restaurant, pausing at almost every table to shake hands and exchange a few words with people. She couldn’t seem to make herself take a bite. She felt sick and guilty, and mad because there wasn’t any reason in the world for her to feel either. She didn’t want to know what her face gave away when he reached their booth.
“Ben. Charlotte.” He didn’t seem interested in shaking either of their hands.
Humor in his voice, Ben said, “You stop by every Friday and Saturday night just to glad-hand?”
“Actually, I’ve usually had enough of the good citizens of West Fork by dinner time. No offense,” he said politely to Charlotte. “I’m having dinner with Ed Tolman and Don Scheff.”
Ben nodded, looking unsurprised.
“City council members?” Charlotte ventured. She’d gone to school with a couple of the Tolman kids. Ed owned the hardware store in town.
“Yeah.” Ben smiled at her. “Didn’t you see me sink down in the booth when they came in?”
Why didn’t a smile that wicked make her heart go pitty-pat? Because I’m an idiot, she mourned.
