24
Dawson heard his name and turned to find a petite woman with a long black braid and skin like burnished copper standing at the edge of the field, trying to get his attention. Aiyana. He’d called her this morning, to thank her for sending Eli and Gavin over to clean, even though he wouldn’t let them, and to tell her how things had gone with the state yesterday—that Ms. Strauss was tentatively in favor of letting Angela come home. But his onetime school administrator had been busy and hadn’t been able to talk more than a few minutes. She’d said she’d call back, that she really needed to have a longer conversation with him.
Evidently, she’d decided to swing by the farm instead.
He didn’t mind. He’d missed her—just didn’t realize how much until he saw her beaming at him. He should’ve reached out to her as soon as he was released from jail. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t.
Stopping his tractor, he wiped the sweat from his face, climbed down and walked over so that she wouldn’t have to come through the loose dirt in order to speak with him. “Hey, look who’s here! Silver Springs royalty,” he said.
“Oh, listen to you,” she responded with a laugh.
He was too dirty, wouldn’t have made physical contact, but she didn’t give him a choice. She grabbed him as soon as she could reach him, dirt, sweat and all.
Clasping her to him, he swung her around. She was the closest thing he had to a mother these days, so he wasn’t in any hurry to break the embrace. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself as she gave him a convincing squeeze, one that felt a lot like “I love you.”
“It’s good to see you, especially looking so fit and handsome,” she said when he put her down.
“Fit? Is that how I look?” he said with a laugh. “I was thinking dirty might be more appropriate.”
“Okay, dirty but strong as an ox.”
He bent to knock some of the dust off the bottom of the long, colorful skirt she wore. “Maybe that hug wasn’t such a good idea.”
She made a sound that signified she wasn’t concerned. “Who cares about a little dirt here and there? I’ve washed these clothes before, I can wash them again.”
“You’ve always been able to focus on what’s important.” Without her perspective, and the fact that she’d entered his life at such a critical juncture, he wasn’t sure what he’d be like today. She was the one who’d helped him make sense of the world, who’d taught him to live a more disciplined life. She’d also facilitated his adoption by the Reeds—had approached them with the idea of taking in one of her “boys” with the promise that she had the “perfect” one in mind.
“Because I’m older than I look. Perspective comes with age,” she said with a wink. “So how are you really—on the inside? Coping okay?”
He sobered. “Managing. How are things out at the ranch?”
She tossed her braid, which had come around front, over her shoulder. “Busy as ever. That’s why it took me so long to pay you a visit—that and I didn’t want to descend on you before you were ready for company. Sometimes it’s easier to deal with pain when we have a little space. At least I’m that way. But I hope you know I’ve been thinking about you, pulling for you—and I’m always available if you need me.”
“I do know that. It means a lot. Thank you.” He gestured toward the porch. “Should we sit for a minute? Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll take a chair, but I don’t need a drink. I won’t interrupt you for long. I just had to see you with my own eyes—needed the reassurance.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She chose the old rocker where his mother used to read on long summer evenings while waiting for his father to come in from the fields. Dawson felt a tinge of nostalgia at the sight of her sitting there. His mother should still be alive to enjoy those quiet hours before dusk. Why would anyone harm such a fine person?
It didn’t make sense, especially the way it happened, so randomly. But after getting to know the men he’d served time with, Dawson understood that senseless crimes were perpetrated far too often. Some of the things the men he’d met liked to talk about turned his stomach. He wouldn’t let someone just like them get away with murdering his folks. He’d made himself that promise. But it would help if he could hear from Oscar Hunt at Safety First. There’d been no word since Dawson had spoken to Big Red on Monday.
Was the man who installed Alex’s bunker still at a remote location with no cell service? Or had Big Red either forgotten or not bothered to pass along the message?
Dawson decided he’d let one more day go by and then call again. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” he asked Aiyana.
“I might not be here long enough.” A wry grin claimed her lips. “I’m afraid you’ll send me away the moment you hear what I’d like to talk about.”
Dawson tensed for the first time since realizing he had a visitor. “Something wrong?”
“Not wrong, exactly. It’s just that...I don’t want to see you get into any more trouble.”
He sank into the seat not far from her. “You think I’m headed for trouble?”
She glanced around. “Sadie isn’t here, is she? I didn’t see her car in the drive...”
“No. She left a couple of hours ago. She had to drop Jayden off at the babysitter’s so she could meet the arson investigator at the house she was renting. You heard about the fire...”
“I did. How upsetting.”
“No kidding.”
She peered closer at him. “Sounds like you and Sadie are close.”
“I’ve hired her to be Angela’s caregiver.”
“Eli mentioned that. I also heard she’s been staying here since the fire.”
“She is.”
“How’s that working out?”
“Great. She’s doing a fine job helping me get this place ready.”
“I like Sadie, Dawson. She seems like a nice girl.” She shifted uncomfortably. “But that ex-husband of hers. I felt a niggle of concern when Eli first mentioned that she was here, but that niggle turned into something much more akin to panic when I ran into Lolita, who happens to be a friend of mine, at the grocery store yesterday.”
“Lolita from the diner.”
“Yes. She told me that Sly had to be dragged from the restaurant on Sunday, that he nearly attacked Sadie.”
Dawson grimaced. “He’s an asshole. There’s no way he should be on the force.”
“I agree. He’s too volatile to be a police officer. But that isn’t up to either of us. We have to deal with what is.”
“Meaning...”
“You should keep your distance from Sly Harris, even if you have to keep your distance from Sadie to accomplish it. I know it’s none of my business, but when I imagine all the heartache you’ve already endured, I can’t bear the thought of you finding more trouble. That’s why I’m here.” She gave him a sheepish look. “Now...do you still want to offer me a drink?”
“Of course. But I should warn you that it’s too late to stop anything where Sadie’s involved. I’ve already bought in.”
“You can always let her go. There’s got to be someone else who can help you out here, and with Angela.”
“The point is...I don’t want anyone else.”
She reared back in apparent surprise. “You’re saying you care about her.”
He stared out across the fields, at his tractor sitting in the middle of the section he’d been getting ready for planting, and the tree, in the distance, by which he’d buried his folks. He loved this farm. Loved the land, the area. He had a lot of good memories here. This was where he’d finally found home. He felt that same sense of having found something important, something he both needed and wanted, in Sadie. And he, of all people, knew better than to think that was an easy thing to come by. “I do.”
“Already?”
He stretched his neck. “Neither one of us are in a good situation. We recognize that. But she’s brought some happiness and companionship back into my life. I’m not going to let Sly take that away from me. We deserve the chance to see if it goes anywhere.”
Aiyana crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt. “Well. That changes things, I suppose.”
He arched his eyebrows. “It does? In what way?”
“Makes it worth the risk.”
She spoke so matter-of-factly he had to laugh. “You’re going to change your mind that easily?”
“What can I say?” She sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “I’m a romantic. To me, love is always worth the risk.”
“I don’t know that it’s love,” he said, trying to back her off a little. “Not yet. Who can say where it will go? But there’s a chance. I definitely feel...a spark.”
“Even the hope of love is worth the risk,” she clarified.
“Good. Then how about a cup of coffee?”
“Why not?”
He jerked his head toward the house. “Come on in. I’ll make a fresh pot.”
“What do you think of Sadie’s son?” she asked as she followed him inside.
“Jayden’s a great kid. Why?”
“I’m just curious how you’d feel about becoming a father.”
“Whoa!” Stopping, he turned to face her. “That’s really jumping ahead. Let me get used to having a girlfriend—with a cute boy—first.”
Some of her enthusiasm dimmed. “You realize that Sly will be part of your life for as long as you’re with Sadie...”
“Hopefully, he won’t be part of her life or mine, no matter what happens.”
“That’s unrealistic. Jayden’s his son.”
He led her into the kitchen and motioned her into a seat as he started the coffee. “We believe he set the fire that nearly burned down her rental, Aiyana. And if we can prove it, he’ll go to prison.”
She looked aghast. “You can’t be serious! I’ve heard rumors rumbling around town that she’s accused him, but I never dreamed it was a real possibility.”
“It’s real, all right.” He explained the logic behind their suspicion while the coffee percolated. By the time he carried two cups over to the table, they’d already moved on to how much she liked Eli’s fiancée, Cora, how she wished Gavin and some of her other boys could find a good woman and settle down and how much attendance at the school she’d founded so long ago had grown over the years. She said they had more students than ever.
Dawson enjoyed the conversation. He especially liked hearing that she was dating someone herself, after being alone for so long. Cal Buchanan, a local cattle rancher, had always had a thing for her. He used to hang around the school as much as possible, even when Dawson was going there. Apparently, they were openly seeing each other now. Aiyana even admitted that he’d asked her to marry him—and that she was considering it.
Their conversation made Dawson feel more normal than anything since he’d been released from jail. He had work to do, but he was still sorry to see her go when she left an hour later. He waved as she backed down the drive. Then he whistled some silly tune as he walked toward the place where he’d been working. But before he could reach his tractor, he saw a section of plants off in the distance that looked as if they’d been mowed down—something he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been taking his time and looking around, taking stock of everything. He was usually too focused on what lay directly in front of him to pay much attention to what lay off to one side.
Curious to see what’d caused the damage, he followed the canal to where it looked as if a car had driven into his crops while making a three-point turn in order to go back the way it had come.
“What the hell,” he muttered as he squatted to finger the tire tracks. He hadn’t driven his truck back here, not in ages. Which meant someone else had to have come recently—and, judging by the number of times a vehicle had turned around in this very spot, more than once. But why would anyone come here the first time, let alone again and again? There was nothing but dirt and artichoke plants.
Unless...
Dawson stood and turned. He had an unobstructed view of the house from this vantage point, and it wasn’t that far away.
A creeping sensation came over him as he realized that this would be the perfect place to park at night if someone wanted to do a little snooping—on him and Sadie. And Dawson had a good idea who that person might be.
* * *
Dawson was trying to call her, but Sadie couldn’t talk right now. The arson investigator had just pulled into the drive and was walking up to greet her. He was late, thanks to traffic he’d encountered leaving Los Angeles. When he’d let her know it’d be an extra hour or so, Chief Thomas, who’d been planning to meet him with her, had gone to the station and left her to handle the appointment on her own. He’d also given her permission to go in and get what was left of her belongings. He told her the firefighters had salvaged what they could and staged it in the kitchen, where she’d be able to get to it from the back door. They didn’t want her to go anywhere near the side that had been burned for fear she might get hurt. She probably could’ve searched through what they’d saved while she waited for Mr. Steele, but she’d been putting that off. She didn’t want to be too emotional when the arson investigator arrived.
Normally, Maude and Vern—or at the least Maude—would’ve kept her busy chatting, but they were gone today, visiting their daughter in Palm Springs. So Sadie had been sitting alone on their patio, using the internet on her phone to entertain herself while she waited.
Planning to call Dawson back later, she silenced his ring before sticking out her hand to shake with the stern-looking, military type who was, apparently, her arson investigator. “Sadie Harris. Thank you for coming.”
“Damian Steele.”
His name sounded like a movie star’s. She supposed it was fitting that he lived in LA.
“So,” she said, “is there anything you need from me?”
He had a notebook in his left hand, seemed ready to get down to business. “Nope. Just access.” He gestured at the scarred building in front of them. “Looks like I’ve got that, since this must be the place.”
“Yes.” Surprisingly, when the wind kicked up, she could still smell the acrid scent of smoke. “I’ve got the key if you’d like to get inside.”
“I do. I’ll take a look at everything.”
At least he seemed thorough.
She handed him the key and returned to Maude’s patio while he brought some paint cans and other things from his vehicle and walked the perimeter of the property before kneeling on the left side, where the fire had started. He spent some time there, collecting samples he put in those cans before going inside.
Sadie would’ve trailed after him—she was dying to see the house. But she wasn’t supposed to go anywhere except the kitchen, and something about the efficiency of his actions and his complete absorption made her feel like she might mess up his mojo or something if she tried.
While he was in the house, she returned Dawson’s call. “What’s up?”
“Has the arson investigator arrived yet?” he asked.
“Just got here.” She’d texted him about the delay, but he hadn’t responded. She’d assumed he was too engrossed in his work.
“What’s he saying? Anything?”
“Not yet. He’s looking it all over carefully, taking samples.”
“Have you been inside?”
“No. Call me superstitious, but there’s so much riding on this. I don’t want to have touched or disturbed one little thing, for fear that will be the one thing that might have given the culprit away if I hadn’t.”
“I doubt you have to worry about that inside.”
“Still. I’m staying away from everything until he’s done. I’ve waited this long, you know? I can wait another hour or so. Then I’ll go in and...and comb through what’s left.”
He must’ve heard the anxiety in her voice, because he said, “Do you want me to come over and help with that?”
It was a nice offer. The people of Silver Springs would be surprised to learn how sensitive he could be. But she preferred to do it alone. The fire had not only forced her out of her rental, it had acted like an ax, severing the last of the bond between her and Sly. She was looking forward to having a few minutes in her old space, even if it was just the kitchen, to savor the fact that she no longer had to smile when she opened the door to him. No longer had to pretend she wasn’t dying a little inside when he insisted on spending time with her and Jayden. No longer had to worry that he’d hit her up for sex and put her in the position of trying to say no without starting a major argument. She had other things to worry about, of course—everything she’d been trying to avoid by making nice for so long—but there was a strange sort of relief in escaping her old problems even if it meant taking on new ones.
She also wasn’t sure how she’d hold up if the photos of her parents and Jayden’s baby pictures had been ruined, didn’t want Dawson to see her go to pieces if they were gone any more than she wanted the arson investigator to witness such a scene. “No, I’ve got it.”
“Okay.”
She expected him to say goodbye and hang up, but he didn’t.
“I found something a few minutes ago, something that has me concerned,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Tire tracks, out near the canal at the back of the property. Someone’s been sitting out there, watching the house.”
Her stomach tightened. “And you think it was Sly.”
“Who else could it be?”
Her ex had kept close tabs on her ever since she left him—even before that. But she didn’t want to believe he was sneaking around the farm after he’d been warned by Chief Thomas to stay away. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get himself kicked off the force. Then where would he be? “Maybe some teenagers were out there partying—smoking pot or having sex.”
“I’d be more tempted to pass it off as harmless if whoever it was had come only once. But I can see where a vehicle—the same vehicle judging by the similarity of the tracks—has been in and out of here at least three times since the last rain, and that was the day I hired you, remember?”
A chill rolled down her spine. She wished she could continue to argue that those tracks might be innocuous, but she couldn’t. It would be like Sly to press his luck in that way.
So what, exactly, had he been up to? Had he been peeking through the windows? Stolen or booby-trapped something? Was he running some kind of surveillance so that he’d know exactly what was going on?
As extreme as that sounded, it was plausible. After what she’d seen this morning—the state of the house and the way Sly had been living—she thought he was coming completely undone. “I remember the rain.”
“Not only that, but I found a back window that looks like it’s been tampered with. I’m afraid he’s been inside the house. That’s what really concerns me.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
She’d thought she was relatively safe, living with Dawson. But instead of causing Sly to back off, it’d provoked him further. He had a weapon—issued by the city, no less—and he knew how to use it. He could hurt, even kill, both of them. Maybe Jayden, too.
“You’ve been confident that the pride he takes in being a police officer would hold him in check—”
“Chief Thomas has an eye on him and he knows it,” she said, hoping to justify that confidence.
“But he doesn’t seem to be respecting his boundaries even still.”
“He isn’t doing well,” she confided.
There was a slight pause. “What do you mean? You’ve talked to him?”
“Chief Thomas and I went over there this morning.”
“What for?”
She’d done it for a lot of reasons. Dawson was one of those reasons. But so was Jayden. “He still has partial custody of my son. Legally, I have to let Jayden spend the weekend at his place. But with the way things stand between us, it’s going to be terrifying for me to see that happen.”
“You told me Sly hasn’t taken much interest in Jayden since you left him.”
“That’s true—so far. He rarely exercised his visitation rights. Even when he did, he kept Jayden for only a few hours or, once in a great while, overnight. He didn’t want to make my life any easier, didn’t want to allow me the chance to have some fun or date. Making sure I always had Jayden was another way he could control me. But now that he knows I’m sleeping with you, that having Jayden isn’t standing in the way, I’m afraid he’ll take him just to show he can. In other words, he’ll do whatever I’d rather he didn’t. That’s all I can rely on where he’s concerned. So, in an effort to get ahead of that, I tried to calm him down, to call a truce.”
“How’d that go?”
“Not so good,” she admitted. “Sly has always been fastidious when it comes to his personal hygiene and belongings. But the house must’ve been a wreck, because he wouldn’t let us in. He had us meet him around back. Even the patio was nothing like I’ve ever seen it before. He’s partying a lot, and not cleaning up. And he’s not limiting that kind of behavior to the weekend. He reeked of alcohol when he opened the door, gave me the impression he was up drinking until very late.”
“Probably because he didn’t start until he got back from spying on us,” Dawson said with a dose of sarcasm. “Anyway, how’d he treat you?”
“Very coolly. He’s blaming me for everything that’s going wrong in his life, can’t see how he’s contributing to his own downfall. I told him I’ll accept his latest offer on child support and forgo any alimony, and that I’d stop pushing for a restraining order, which would take some of the pressure off him at work, if he’ll just stop trying to cause trouble and leave us alone. But I don’t think it’ll do any good. He demanded that I also call off the arson investigator.”
“I hope you refused. You must have, since the investigator is there.”
“Yes.”
“What’d Sly say then?”
“He got belligerent again.”
Dawson made no reply.
“Hello?” Sadie said into the silence. “You still there?”
“Yeah.”
She brushed a few fallen leaves off the patio table. “What are you thinking?”
“That I hope he comes back to the farm tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because the next time he sets foot on my property, I’ll be waiting for him.”
Sadie gripped the phone tighter. This was not going the way she wanted. “Don’t even talk like that. Don’t you see how dangerous a private, late-night encounter with him could be?” Dawson was beginning to feel some of the frustration and desperation she’d felt for a long time, which was only making the situation more volatile.
“I can’t allow him to skulk around the house,” he said. “If he’s trespassing, I’m going to do something about it.”
Sadie pulled her sleeve down over her free hand. It was colder out than she’d expected. “And what happens if it comes to an altercation?”
“I guess he’ll learn that I’m not going to tolerate his bullshit.”
“No. Don’t you see? He’s willing to go further than you are. He proved that when he almost drew his gun the night of the fire—which means you could get hurt instead. And even if you don’t, you could be arrested if you hurt him.”
“Chief Thomas knows Sly’s been out of line.”
“So? He also thinks you killed your parents! He won’t protect you. If, in making sure Sly gets what’s coming to him, you go back behind bars, Thomas will think justice has been served all the way around. Two problems solved at once.”
“I have to do something! I can’t wait for him to murder us in our sleep. After what happened to my parents, I have to be able to protect those I care about.”
Sadie caught her breath. Had he really just said that? She’d promised herself, if she could only get away from Sly, she’d never give any man the right to lay claim on her again. She couldn’t afford to make another mistake. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t have feelings for Dawson. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t known each other all that long.
She needed to get out on her own. To figure out who she was these days and what she wanted.
“I understand,” she said. “We just have to be careful. Let’s get Chief Thomas involved, have him waiting for Sly if he comes back tonight.”
“What will that do?”
“It’ll prove that he’s disobeying orders. Did you get pictures of those tire tracks?”
“I did.”
“Email them to him.”
“Even if I do, and Thomas agrees to come out here, he’ll just confront Sly and send him home. He won’t arrest him, Sadie. He may suspend him, but then Sly will have even more reason to hate us—and more time to act on that hate.”
“But we only have to avoid trouble until the investigation here is complete. Hopefully, that won’t take too long.”
“And if Damian Steele doesn’t find anything?”
“I’m hoping it won’t go that way,” she said, because if there was no evidence linking Sly to the fire, she’d have only one escape. She’d have to leave, find someplace Sly could never find her, as she’d been thinking of doing before.
Then whether or not she was falling in love with Dawson would be a moot point. She’d have to sever ties regardless.