§ chapter Eight §
When Jacie woke daylight was just beginning to break and the sky beyond the mountains was a fiery orange red.
She had never thought of herself as a person who scared easily, but between her skydiving accident last year and the suspicions Sloan had voiced about someone trying to hurt her, she began to feel incredibly paranoid.
She looked outside her tent but she didn’t see anyone stirring. She quickly put on some clean clothes and climbed out of the tent, wondering if coffee was available. She reached down to close her tent flap and heard a noise behind her.
"Were you able to sleep?" Sloan asked and she almost jumped out of her skin.
She whirled around with her hand to her chest. "I didn’t see you there. I’m about ready to jump out of my skin. I must have dozed off and got an hour or two of sleep."
He reached forward and gently cupped her cheek. "I’m not going to let anything happen to you Jacie. I stayed close to your tent most of the night."
She swallowed, touched by his concern. "You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?"
He shrugged it off. "Right now I’ve got other priorities." He moved toward the portable grill on the back of the truck tailgate and retrieved a pan of boiling water.
"Coffee?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Sorry, it’s only instant today."
"That’s fine." She looked around, stretching, feeling cramped muscles protest. The morning air was quite cool and she shivered as she accepted a cup of coffee with a murmur of thanks. "Is anyone else up?"
"James. Donny and Michelle are around here somewhere."
"That was really well done, you know, the way you put Donny at ease last night." She felt she had to tell him that. "Anyone else might have jumped down his throat."
"Donny’s a good kid."
"So, you’re going to tell the rest of the party what’s going on?"
"We have to. They should be aware of what’s been found. I’m still hoping for an easier explanation than the one that’s been running through my head all night."
She felt the tension build up again. It had been a pressure in her chest since the night before. "I know, I’ve been trying to figure this entire thing out too. It’s making me crazy." She traced the rim of her coffee cup. "I’m really sorry and that’s so inadequate. If it turns out this is my fault in some way, I hope I haven’t done harm to Timber Falls."
"It’s not your fault," he said gruffly. "You didn’t ask for this to happen. We’ll get it figured out."
Before it’s too late. He didn’t say the words but they were inside her head and she read them in the grimness of his expression.
She heard the murmur of voices. The others were beginning to stir. She looked at him, not envying him the next half hour.
After a quick breakfast Sloan and James gathered everyone together and showed them the syringe and needle. She watched the varying reactions of horror and concern and was certain no one in their group was involved, yet she felt a measure of relief when they finally packed to leave.
"How are you holding up, Jacie?" James asked.
She managed a laugh, but she didn't know how convincing it sounded. "I'll be fine."
"We’re worried about you, Jacie. We’re getting the authorities involved. There have been too many coincidences."
She nodded. "I know and none of it makes sense."
"We're not taking any chances. It's almost time to leave so if you want to see the lakes before we head out Sloan is going to take the group. It's about a five-minute walk."
She placed the last of her gear beside her bedroll. She looked over at the rest of the group gathered by the horse corral and thought they looked pretty subdued.
"Jacie." She looked up as Sloan joined her. "This has been a poor introduction to our mountains, I'm afraid."
"We couldn't know there's some kind of crazy out there." She hugged her arms around herself.
"It gets my back up that we don't know anything," he said grimly.
She sensed he wouldn’t back away from a tough situation. Unbidden, the thought intruded...there was a world of difference between he and Brad. He didn't like anyone messing around on his territory. When she’d got hurt, Brad had virtually disappeared and left her to fend for herself.
"Are you coming to see the lakes?" he asked abruptly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I wouldn't miss it." She forced a bright smile to her mouth. She looked around at the somber group and on sudden inspiration clapped her hands several times. "Come on everyone, it's not the end of the world. Maybe there’s an innocent explanation here. Let’s not assume the worst." With determination, she joined the others. "I would love to see the lakes, but I haven't the foggiest idea which way to go!"
Sloan, watching her, took over as if on cue. "Come on, everyone, I'll show you the path."
She began to breathe easier as they walked in single file behind him. Third in line, she watched him forge ahead, admiring his broad back and long legs. The man possessed a potent sexuality she couldn't ignore. His concern was touching, but there was still a possibility the explanation was quite simple. She shook her head at her own naiveté. And maybe there wasn’t.
In the past, her leap-before-you-look attitude had at times led her into trouble. For a moment she wondered if Sloan was the next bit of trouble she was heading into. She stifled a groan and decided sometimes the trouble was worth it.
The wind seemed to suddenly pick up. The branches of the evergreens around them swayed and dipped the further they went.
"Watch out for your eyes and face." He held back a heavy branch as one by one they moved along weather-beaten rock. They came to a small, clear ledge and she swept an appreciative look at the twin lakes lying far below them. She lifted her camera and zoomed in on the scene.
"The trees are so short and twisted," she murmured. They clung to bare rock, their roots reaching out like gnarled, arthritic fingers. They reminded her of the trees outside her cabin window.
"Up here, they don't seem to have much chance to grow, yet they've adapted," MaryAnn mused.
"All it takes is one determined seed or vine," Sloan said.
"If the conditions are right anything can adapt," she said.
"Sometimes," Sloan conceded.
As the rest of the group meandered back along the path she buttoned her flannel shirt and hunched her shoulders against the wind. "I'll catch up in a few minutes," she said.
Sloan looked ready to argue, then he nodded and led the group back into the trees.
She sat on the smooth rock and dangled her feet over the edge, closing her eyes as the wind hit her face. It was exhilarating. . .it was peaceful and she let the feelings fill her totally. Voices died away and she was alone.
Suddenly aware she wasn’t alone, she looked behind her and saw Sloan circling back toward her. A deep yearning clutched her. Quickly, she swiped at a lone tear. "The wind is making my eyes tear," she said. She looked back to the view. "You kept your promise," she said, raising her voice.
"What promise?" he was close beside her, his husky voice in her ear.
"The view...you promised a great view."
"I never renege on promises." He indicated the lakes below them. "So, was it worth it?"
Without hesitation she gave him a provocative smile. "It's always worth it."
He squatted beside her. The feel of his fingertips against her cheek felt right, causing a tremble to begin in her shoulders. His hand cupped her chin, guided her face around to him. She met the intensity of his eyes and swallowed hard. He said something low, but it was lost against the wind.
Closing her eyes, she acknowledged the power of his touch over her. He elicited responses in her, responses she reveled in. Her lips lifted, met his hardness, his gentleness, the wonderful heat of his mouth. It was an experience like no other, as elemental as the wind whirling bits of leaves and dust just beyond the ledge. She felt as if they were closeted in their own world, the moment of tenderness forever imprinted in her mind. How many others had come to this place, she wondered, with someone special.
Sloan abruptly pushed himself back away from her and retrieved his hat. He pushed the hat down on his head and stood. Lips which had made love to her for an erotic moment now pressed together in a grim line.
She wondered what made him look so bleak. Did his thoughts mirror her own... that they were from two different worlds, and any encounter between them would never be more than brief?
Sloan stared at Jacie and fought the struggle within. The expression on her face looked so expectant, as if she wanted something more from him. Part of him longed to bring her over to the bed of ferns beneath the pines and forget about everything else. God! He wanted to make love to her. The urge was so strong, so vital; it took him several moments before he could control it.
"Should I say I'm sorry?" he asked unexpectedly. His hands shook so he shoved them into his pockets.
"Are you?" With her head thrown back he could see the vulnerable skin of her throat.
He admired her brass and nerve. He shook his head and felt himself smile. "No, Jacie, I'm not sorry I kissed you. There's something about you..." He let himself take in the full wonder of her, head to toe, all too aware of the reaction of his body. Ruefully, he admitted, "Sometimes, like now, I find I can't help myself, but I know we're opposites," he added. "Come on, it's time to go," he reminded her.
Without answering she drew her knees up and circled her legs with her arms.
"Jacie." He struggled and almost gave in to what he wanted. He wanted to let her get close, let her see what was inside his head. She looked alone sitting on the ledge, the wind whipping her hair around her head. Dammit, he wanted to protect her, make her happy instead of forlorn.
"I'll be there in a minute."
He walked away and each step he told himself he was doing the right thing. People like Jacie didn't settle down to a normal home life. They hankered after the next illusion of a rainbow, whether there was one there or not. He knew it too well. Up until the time his mother had died he had seen her break his father's heart time and again. He didn't want a life that involved that kind of heartache.
He waited for her just out of sight. He was afraid that long after she had left Timber Falls a part of him would be empty without her.
Ω
Jacie jogged to the horse barn early the next morning. Unlike most mornings, the air was already warm. It felt like it might be a hot day later on. A vehicle with large plastic boxes affixed to either side of the truck bed was parked outside the barn. There was a name lettered in black, followed by D.V.M. on the door. The veterinarian had arrived to check on the horse Dandy.
She walked into the cool barn, her running shoes quiet on the packed dirt floor. As she drew closer to a cluster of box stalls, she heard voices.
"Doesn't sound good, Sloan. Someone might have done this deliberately," an unfamiliar voice said.
"That's what I was afraid you would say," Sloan said.
She came to a standstill in the barn aisle.
"Let's not jump to any conclusions. I'll call you as soon as I get the blood test back and the results from the syringe. Once we know what we're dealing with, we'll take it from there.
"As for the horse, even though the affects seem to have worn off, I don't want him ridden and make sure anyone working around him uses caution."
"I'll take care of him myself, Tim. I can't believe someone would try something like this. How could this happen!" Sloan sounded furious.
"No ideas?" the other voice asked.
She heard a stall door open and saw Sloan and a tall blond-haired man exit a box stall at the end of the aisle.
"I've never had a problem with anyone tampering with the horses." They hadn’t seen her yet. "I'm as stumped as you, Tim."
The bag of carrots she carried slipped from her fingers and fell to the barn floor. Both men turned.
"Jacie," Sloan said. He looked none too pleased to see her.
The man he’d called Tim said, "Hi...Jacie, isn't it?" He stepped forward, a smile on his lean, attractive face as he held out a hand. "I'm Tim Wells. We're just about finished here if you’re looking for Sloan."
She shook his hand and introduced herself. Seeing no reason not to jump in, she said, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."
Tim looked at Sloan, then back at her.
"So you think someone did something to my horse the other day?"
"The behavior Sloan told me about could be caused by numerous factors, one of which could be a chemical reaction to certain drugs. I don't want to speculate. I'd feel better with the test results in my hand. It could have been something as simple as a bee sting."
That explanation gave her a slight rise in spirits but then she wondered if she was just fooling herself. Tim turned back to Sloan. "If the chestnut horse is the only one I have to see today, I'll be on my way."
Sloan held out his hand to the other man. "I appreciate you getting here so quickly. Let me know as soon as you have the results."
"I'll call you, although with the weekend coming up, it might be next week." He nodded at her and then walked down the aisle and out the barn.
Sloan turned to her. "Eavesdropping?" he asked, his mouth tilted at one corner.
She looked at him with wide eyes and let out her breath. "Not on purpose, but eavesdropping has its uses," she said without apology. "What was that about?"
"He drew some blood but we won't know anything until next week."
"But you suspect something," she said. "And it has to do with that syringe." She reached up a hand to grip the iron bars on one of the box stalls. "Tell me I'm being paranoid and that this has nothing to do with me."
He moved down the barn aisle as the veterinarian had done. When he was about three feet past her, he turned back. Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, he muttered a curse. "No, you're not being paranoid. I think this does have to do with you. At first I thought someone was trying to get at the resort, but I have this feeling it’s you this is all aimed at."
She felt a sick welling in her stomach. "I know I asked for it, but I don’t have to like the truth."
He came back to her and grabbed her by the arms. "Do you know why anyone would want to harm you?" Anger and concern laced his voice. The line of his brow was pulled into a frown. "Because I think that's what's happening here. We think...and we don't know for sure, that your horse was given a shot of something. That's why he flipped out. Then there's the gas leak in the cabin."
"You keep coming back to that."
"Dammit, it can’t be ignored! Maybe someone wanted to hurt you. I've notified the sheriff's office. They're coming today to talk to you."
She pulled back. "Wait a second. If someone is trying to hurt me I sure as heck don't know why. How do we know the gas wasn’t an accident after all?"
"That place had been thoroughly checked out."
"James told me a fitting or something had worked its way loose on the stove."
"It had. I didn't voice my suspicions right away because I might have been reading something into this that wasn't there. I didn't want to frighten you."
"Well, you're doing a pretty good job of it right now."
He tugged her by the hand into the tack room and closed the door. He lowered his voice. "Listen, Jacie, I don't want to believe this either, but with this last incident, it's past that point. We've got to find out what's going on." With a gesture of frustration he pulled his hat off and pushed the hair off his forehead. "This isn't coincidence, not three separate incidents."
"Three!" she said in outrage.
"That day at the waterfall...your first week here. Donny and I combed the upper stream. There was no reason for that rock to come over the falls. We found a spot where it looked like a rock could have been pried loose from the muddy bottom. It takes a pretty good current to move something that size. Do you remember seeing anyone around that day?"
"Other than the regular guests, no, but then I wasn't looking for anybody lurking in the woods. You’re convinced that was deliberate, too?" She couldn’t prevent the fear that raced through her.
"Of course I'm not sure, but I want to cover all possibilities. I can’t let these questions go unasked. When we got back yesterday from the campout one of the housekeeping girls told me she had gone to clean the unoccupied cabin. Someone had been staying there. She found empty food wrappers."
"There could be a reasonable explanation."
"I'll concede that maybe the piece of ledge that fell was coincidental. We had had a lot of rain the week before; it's possible it worked its way loose. Maybe even the gas leak could be explained...but not Dandy's behavior. I've had that horse six years and I've never seen him act like that. I sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone ride him if I had the least suspicion he’d blow up."
"There's no motive."
"There has to be."
"What would be the gain? Why is this happening?"
"I’m hoping you could clue me in."
"I haven't got anything..." she let her voice trail off.
Sloan narrowed his eyes. "What?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No! You're making me paranoid." She turned away. "If something happened to me, anything I have would go to my family." Impatiently, she pulled open the tack room door and exited the room, emotion bursting inside her.
"I'm not accusing anyone in your family," he called after her.
"You’d better not. It's ridiculous and insulting." She swung around to face him.
He let out an exasperated growl and put his fists on his hips. "Hell, I can't dismiss what happened. I have to get to the bottom of this. I tried calling Con."
Fury raced through her. "You called my brother?" For a moment, a feeling of helplessness washed over her. Her family thought she would mess up again and this would further reinforce that notion.
"Of course I did, but I couldn’t reach him. Apparently he’s still out of the country."
With an aggravated mutter, she turned and walked out of the barn. She felt the burning at the back of her throat. Tears wanted to let go, but she blinked hard and kept them at bay. When would everyone learn she could take care of her own life?
A hard hand on her elbow pulled her around. She looked at Sloan, blinking furiously. "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel?" she demanded. "I don't need my brother checking up on me, and I don't need you helping him."
He released her arm as if she’d burned him. "Now hold on, Jacie. I'm doing no such thing. I don't know about your brother's motives, though I suspect they have something to do with love, but I'll be damned if I'll sit around and watch you get hurt and not do anything about it!" His voice was hard, biting at her.
She shook her head and waved her arms. "I have to leave, I can't talk rationally about this now." She needed time to think. She was an adult. Eventually, her family would realize her decisions, right or wrong, were her own. She had to make her own mistakes and face the consequences.
"Did my brother tell you to call if I screwed up?"
He looked at her hard-eyed, his mouth in a straight line. "No."
She turned on her heel. A dark silhouette stepped into the barn almost in front of her. She came to a skidding halt with an exasperated groan, stopping just short of running into a uniformed officer.
"Sorry, miss," the officer said, putting out a hand to steady her. "At the office they told me Sloan was down here."
She looked at the badge pinned to the officer’s chest. In that fraction of time Sloan moved forward and shook hands with the officer.
"Hi Arnie, thanks for coming by. Don't go, Jacie," he said. "This is Arnie Bryant from the sheriff's office."
"Hello Jacie," the officer said pleasantly, his green eyes almost on a level with her own beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Black hair brushed his collar and his dark brown eyes appeared sharply inquiring. "I’m Deputy Bryant. I need to ask you some questions relating to incidents that have occurred recently at Timber Falls."
She nodded with resignation.
Deputy Bryant looked over at Sloan. "Is there someplace where we can sit or we can go out to my patrol car?"
"Let’s go into the tack room." He led the way.
She followed and the deputy brought up the rear. She just wanted to get this over with.
Once she was seated in the lone chair, the deputy removed his hat and took out a small notepad and pen. Sloan leaned against the massive desk beside her.
"Now Jacie, let’s start with closest living relatives."
"My parents are Jacie and John Turner. I have four brothers."
"On your second day here you had an accident while swimming?"
"Yes. A rock hit me from the stream above."
"Did you see anyone?"
"No." She thought a moment and took that back. "I thought I heard something. My horse looked back toward the hill where Michelle and the other riders had gone but I didn’t see anyone."
"That’s when the rock hit you, just after you heard a noise that sounded out of place?"
"Yes."
"You came to Timber Falls to give the guests skydiving lessons?"
"Yes."
"Any incidents involving those lessons?"
"Nothing unusual. We did our first jump without problems and there was another one scheduled but the pilot got sick."
"The pilot was sick? Is he okay now?" The deputy’s question seemed idle enough, but she again took note of the sharp inquisitiveness of his eyes.
"They thought he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him. He’s going to resume our flight schedule tomorrow." She glanced at Sloan.
"The next incident involved a problem with the gas stove where you’re staying?" The deputy looked at Sloan for confirmation.
"I opened her cabin door one night and the gas odor hit me in the face."
"Jacie, you didn’t notice it?" the officer asked.
"No, I have allergies and at times it affects taste and smell."
"How long have you had allergies?"
"I don’t know, probably eight, nine years."
"Who knows about your allergies?"
She looked at him helplessly and shrugged her shoulders. "Everyone in my family, some of my friends."
"Now the last incident was yesterday? The horse you usually ride started acting strangely?"
"Yes. Maybe he was just having a bad day, but his behavior was pretty unusual."
"The horse was virtually uncontrollable," Sloan put in grimly. "He was wild-eyed, then trembling and disoriented. He’s never acted that way before."
"I saw Tim Wells as I was driving in. Is the horse being treated?"
"Yes, Tim drew blood and he’s sending it to be analyzed. We also found a syringe and needle when we went on that campout where the horse acted up. Tim has that too."
"I understand you were involved in an accident last year?"
She had no wish to rehash that incident. "I was in South America doing a film stunt. I was hurt."
"How did that happen?"
She hesitated. "My parachute was faulty."
"How long have you been skydiving? Has that ever happened before?"
"About eleven years and that’s the first time."
"Any reason to think someone might want to harm you?" the officer asked quietly.
"None."
"If something happened to you, who would benefit?"
That question again. Coldness crept over her. "There’s only my family." She glared at the officer. "As I told Sloan, there’s no way they’re involved." She stood up. "I think this has gone on long enough. I’ve answered all the questions and we’re no further ahead."
Deputy Bryant stood also. "It’s understandable you’re distressed but I have one more question."
She let out a long breath. "Go ahead." At least it was almost over.
"Do you have anything of value that someone might want if you were out of the picture?"
She clamped her lips together, looked at Sloan and then back at Deputy Bryant. "No."
The deputy put his pen and notepad away. "Thank you for your time Ms. Turner, I’m sure this has been very difficult. We’ll be in touch." He looked at Sloan. "I’d like to do an informal interview of each of the guests. Can we arrange something?"
"Of course," Sloan said.
She couldn’t believe this mess was escalating out of control.
"One more thing, Ms. Turner," Deputy Bryant said. "I’m going to need the names of the film crew from South America."
"That’s something you’d have to get from Brad Carlton. He’s the film producer who took care of the arrangements down there."
"Will you be able to give me a number?"
Jacie wondered if they could hear the heavy pound of her heart. She looked at Sloan and licked her lips, then looked back at the deputy. "I might be able to get it from my friend Bonnie."
She stared at Sloan with bewilderment after the deputy left.
"James and I have decided to take precautionary measures," he said. "I’m canceling the jumps for tomorrow and maybe the day after."
"You can’t do that, it will throw my entire schedule off."
"I am doing it," he said in a hard voice. "I’m not taking chances with you or my guests."
She looked at him impotently. Could this get any worse? He was right. They couldn’t take chances.
"Do I have to start looking over my shoulder?"
"Why are you holding out?" he asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Arnie asked you if you had anything of value―I got the feeling you’re not telling us everything."
She turned away, but he pulled her back toward him.
"I’m trying to help you here, help me." His voice was a demand.
"It’s not important," she said fiercely.
"Trust me, Jacie."
She trusted him but there were other factors involved. Reluctantly, she admitted, "When I had the accident the film company’s insurance carrier settled money on me."
"How much?"
"Half a million," she said reluctantly. "I think they were afraid I would sue. I didn’t tell the deputy because I didn’t want to plant a seed of doubt about my family!"
"The police should be made aware."
"You can’t tell them!" she said angrily. "I won’t have my family questioned over this. I’ll give the money away before I’ll let that happen."
"Cool down, Jacie. There’s got to be something we’re missing."
"There is. It’s called a motive. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take some pictures before the light is lost."
She left the barns, feeling angry and unsettled and wishing Sloan would stick to ranching instead of trying to interfere in the job she had come here to do.
She slowed down her hard pace, knowing that was unfair. Sloan was trying to keep her safe, that was all. She had no reason to be angry with him.