Countdown to Death
“If they have to do with the deer population, you might want to notify the game warden.”
“It’s a little too early to involve him. At this point, the results of my test are questionable.”
“Then you don’t think there’s a problem with the venison?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
Neither did he. Allison looked as confused as she sounded.
What had he read about diseases humans could get from deer? He thought of the article he’d written on hunting safety. “Only thing that comes to mind involving infected venison is chronic wasting disease. We’ve never had a problem in Georgia.”
Allison’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mention the name of the disease.”
“No, you didn’t. But I wrote an article for a hunting magazine a few months back on the danger of infected game.”
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “You’re a journalist?”
“Actually I run a manufacturing company and do a little farming on the side. In my spare time, I pen articles for a regional hunting magazine.”
“Time-out, okay?” She put one hand over the other to form a T. “The doc gave me a muscle relaxer that’s making me talk too much. Do me a favor and let’s change the subject.”
Typical for medical types. Throw out information, then refuse to discuss the situation fully. Shelly’s doctors had done the same thing numerous times, causing Luke undue frustration.
Although frustration wasn’t what he was feeling tonight. More like concern.
He didn’t know a thing about the woman sitting next to him, but he knew about the danger wasting disease posed to hunters. Even if they didn’t eat the infected venison, handling the carcass—especially if they had cuts on their hands—could increase the risk of exposure. Yet Allison had admitted her results were questionable.
He made a mental note to call the game warden in the morning. Luke hadn’t seen any sickly animals on his property, but it wouldn’t hurt to notify the authorities to be on the lookout.
They rode in silence for over a mile until Allison tilted her head back against the seat. “Your aunt seems like a nice lady. What about the rest of your family?”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. Bett’s helping me raise my sister.”
“So Shelly’s not your daughter?”
The look on her face caused him to chuckle. “Do I look like an old married guy?”
“No, but—” She smiled. “I told you I’m not thinking straight. And your parents?”
“They’re both dead.”
He heard the finality in his voice, and to her credit, Allison didn’t push for more information. Instead, she mumbled a few words of sympathy and closed her eyes.
Pretty, even with the soot that smudged her face. No matter why she’d come to Sterling, Luke would let her stay in the cabin for a day or two while she tracked down the information she needed. She’d probably be on her way by the end of the week.
Doubtful she’d disrupt his routine in that short time. After all, he’d worked too long to build a protective cocoon where his sister could live without being reminded of the past. Despite the doctors’ prognosis, Luke believed Shelly would eventually have a breakthrough. He wouldn’t let anything set her back again.
Even an attractive scientist who seemed to need protection herself.
Allison knew when to keep quiet. The tone of Luke’s voice had made it clear his parents’ deaths were off-limits as a topic of discussion. She understood limits. She’d placed boundaries on her past as well.
Besides, she didn’t feel like talking. Her back ached and a heavy weight sat on her chest from the amount of smoke she’d inhaled. Common sense told her she should have followed the doctor’s advice and gone to the hospital for observation. But the facility was seventy-five miles away, and she didn’t have time to twiddle her thumbs while the doc on duty determined she could be released in the morning.
She needed to find the reason for her test results before someone in Atlanta decided to release the three units for transfusion.
“It’s over, Allison,” the laboratory manager’s words echoed through her mind.
Allison had worked too long and come too far to have her research dismissed so quickly.
The hum of the tires along the country road, the warmth of the heater and the darkness lulled Allison into a light slumber.
She blinked her eyes open when the car came to a stop in front of a small log cabin with a wide porch, where Luke’s aunt waved a greeting. Two wrought-iron lights illuminated a glider swing and rocking chair.
Rounding the car, Luke opened the passenger door and held out his hand. Placing hers in his, she felt the strength of his grasp, grateful for his support as her stiff muscles refused to readily comply.
“Shelly’s in bed and waiting for you to tell her good-night,” Bett said to Luke, then, wrapping her arm around Allison, she ushered her toward the cabin. “I’ve got everything ready for you, dear.”
“Take good care of her,” Luke said as their hands parted.
“Now come on, honey. I’ll get you settled.” Bett opened the cabin door. Before Allison stepped inside, she glanced back at Luke, who walked purposely toward a large, sprawling farmhouse about fifty yards away.
What was it about Luke Garrison? He’d saved her life, for which she’d be eternally grateful. Both he and his aunt seemed welcoming with their offer of lodging and attention to her needs.
He had seemed friendly enough until she’d mentioned his parents. Death was hard. Something she knew firsthand. Evidently, Luke was a private person who kept his feelings to himself.
But his tone of voice sent a question niggling at the back of her mind.
Was there something he wanted to keep secret about their deaths?
TWO
The next morning, Allison’s eyes opened with a start to the gray haze filtering through the calico curtains. Her hand touched the crisp cotton sheet and thick multicolored quilt that covered the bed where she lay.
Her body ached. She stretched to ensure her muscles would respond, then wiggled her fingers and toes. Nothing broken.
Recollection flooded over her. The fire, her cries for help, strong hands that pulled her from the burning building.
Death had almost found her in Sterling, Georgia. Not a good way to start her stay.
Rising in the bed, she grimaced when the muscles in her back protested; she stretched, hoping to ease out the kinks. Once on her feet, she parted the curtain and spied her car parked outside.
Last night seemed a blur. The doctor had given her something to help her relax. Evidently, it had taken effect before she’d arrived at the cabin.
No other motel or hotel in town. Luckily, no one had been hurt in the fire. And the man who had saved her?
She remembered the determination in his voice before they’d jumped. About the only thing she was able to clearly recall.
Brain still as fuzzy as cotton batting, she spied her purse on the nightstand and her overnight bag on the floor.
Slowly the events of the night before unfolded. Once she’d found her room at the B and B, she’d been too tired to retrieve her suitcase from the car. Instead she had dozed on the bed and awakened later, smelling smoke.
Gratitude filled her again.
Luke and his aunt—
What was her name? Bett Garrison. That was it. They’d been so kind to offer lodging.
Allison hadn’t expected their generosity or the sense of relief that washed over her now. She could have died in the fire.
A déjà vu of Drew.
She shook off the thought. This wasn’t the time or place to revisit the past.
Better to deal with the issue at hand.
Closing the curtain, Allison turned from the window and opened her suitcase. She needed to find the Garrisons to thank them for their hospitality before she headed to town to talk to the men she’d tried to contact by phone yesterday. She’d left two messages on voice mail and had arranged an interview with the only person she could reach at home.
One in three. Not good odds.
Once dressed, Allison stepped outside into the overcast morning and shuffled toward the two-story frame farmhouse, her body refusing to move at any pace but slow. A barn sat in the distance near a rolling pasture where a few head of cattle grazed.
The house had a tin roof, black shutters and a wraparound porch neatly arranged with a rattan love seat, chair and dual rockers. The surrounding hardwood trees—sweet gums, maples and oaks—wore their fall colors, from bright reds to burnt umber. The breeze fluttered through the trees, sending a shower of leaves that piled like giant confetti on the ground below.
The screen door opened and Bett welcomed her with a wide smile. Her red hair was pulled into a clip at the base of her neck. She wore jeans and a pullover sweater and looked rested and fresh.
“I was wondering how late you’d sleep. Breakfast is ready. ’Spect you’re hungry after that ordeal last night. I’ve got eggs, sausage, grits and corn bread waiting on the stove.”
“You’ve been so kind. Thank you, Bett.”
“Nice to have company to look after. Gets kind of lonely around here sometimes.” She watched as Allison crept up the porch steps. “How’s the back?”
“Much better.”
Inside, a leather couch and love seat sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling stacked stone fireplace. Hunting magazines lay neatly arranged on the coffee table, and a mounted deer head hung over the mantel. Definitely a man’s room.
A second door led to an area off the kitchen where a round oak pedestal table, covered with a linen cloth, was set for four.
“Sit there, dear.” Bett pointed to a chair and reached for the coffeepot.
“Luke will be downstairs in a minute. We home-school Shelly, and he’s helping her with today’s lesson.”
“So it’s just the three of you?”
“That’s right. My brother—Luke’s dad—passed away about ten years ago. And Luke’s mother died shortly after Shelly was born.”
Seems Bett didn’t have a problem discussing their deaths. “I’m sorry.”
“The Lord knows what He’s doing even when we don’t understand.”
Allison wished she could be half as positive when it came to anything to do with God.
Bett poured coffee into a mug and handed it to Allison. The rich aroma of the fresh brew, mixed with the smell of corn bread and sausage, was making her mouth water. She blew into the hot liquid and took a sip, feeling at ease in the comfortable kitchen.
A door opened behind her. Allison turned, and just that quickly, her sense of serenity vanished, replaced with a nervous tingle that warmed her from the inside out.
Luke stood in the doorway. Lean and lanky with broad shoulders that filled out the plaid shirt tucked into well-worn jeans.
“Come on now, Shelly,” he called. “The lady won’t hurt you.”
Glancing into the kitchen, he flashed a smile at Allison that caused her cheeks to burn.
“Shelly’s shy around strangers,” he explained.
Which was exactly the way Allison was feeling at the moment.
“How’s your back?” he asked.
“Probably better than your arm,” she said, returning his smile.
“Then we’re both in good shape.” Even from across the room, she could see the twinkle in his eyes.
As they spoke, a girl shyly peeked at Allison from the hallway beyond the open door. Slender like her aunt with the same red hair. At first glance, Shelly appeared to be about sixteen, but as she stepped forward, Allison noted her innocent facial expressions and the faraway look in her eyes. Undoubtedly, she was a special child with a mental age much younger than her actual years.
“Go on, now,” Luke encouraged, his hand nudging her into the room.
With a reassuring nod from her brother, Shelly shuffled toward the table. She favored her left leg, causing a lateral swing to her gait.
Once she was seated, Luke grabbed her napkin from the table, shook it open and placed it over her lap. “Remember your manners, darlin’, and eat like the little lady you are.”
Shelly’s eyes crinkled, but her mouth refused to smile.
Luke’s gaze was warm, and Allison could see the deep affection he had for his sister.
Standing at the stove, Bett fixed a plate and placed it in front of Shelly.
“How ’bout you, Allison? Two links or three?” Bett held the spatula poised above the skillet, where plump sausage sizzled. “Best venison sausage you’ll ever eat.”
Venison?
Luke flicked a quick glance her way.
“Just eggs, please. No sausage.”
Bett handed Allison her plate, then fixed one for Luke and herself before she sat at the table.
Realizing how hungry she really was, Allison picked up her fork ready to dig into the eggs when an awkward silence settled over the room. She looked up to find Luke staring at her.
“Shall we offer thanks?”
Her cheeks burned. “Of course.”
She returned the fork to her plate, bowed her head and clasped her hands together on her lap. Major faux pas. So much for trying to fit in.
Luke spoke in a sincere voice. “Thank you, God, for the food we are about to eat. Thank you for protecting Allison from the fire and for giving us the opportunity to know her better. May we honor you in all we do this day. Amen.”
Reaching for his knife and fork, Luke cut Shelly’s sausage into bite-size pieces and spread a thick layer of golden butter over her corn bread.
Once again Allison’s cheeks burned. “Seems I’m late expressing my thanks.”
“Just glad I happened to be driving by.”
“If you hadn’t—”
He nodded almost imperceptibly toward his sister. Allison understood that Shelly didn’t need to hear the reality of what could have happened.
Not that Allison wanted to give voice to that thought, either.
Bett smiled and patted her arm. “No need to dwell on what might have been. We’re just thanking the Lord you’re here with us today.”
Her touch was filled with acceptance. Something Allison had little of from her own family.
“Shelly, after breakfast I want you to help me in the garden. We’ve got the last of the pole beans to pick before we finish your lessons and then work on our crafts.” Bett continued to chatter about the day ahead of them.
Relieved the conversation had turned to other topics, Allison ate heartily. Once finished, she wiped her mouth on the napkin and sighed with satisfaction.
“Breakfast was delicious.”
Bett beamed with the compliment and started to clear the table.
“Let me help you with the dishes.” Allison rose from the chair just as the doorbell rang.
Luke excused himself and quickly returned, followed by a middle-aged, beefy man dressed in a khaki uniform with a badge on his chest.
“Morning, Bett.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. “How ’bout some breakfast, Vic?”
“Can I take a rain check?”
“Allison, Sheriff Vic Treadwell wants to talk to us about last night,” Luke said.
“Ma’am.” The sheriff nodded to Allison, then smiled at Shelly. “Hey, Sunshine.”
The girl’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of her mouth twitched at the nickname she evidently enjoyed being called.
“Why don’t we go into the other room,” the sheriff suggested.
A sense of unease washed over Allison. She rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on the towel Bett offered, then followed Luke and the sheriff into the living area.
Pulling in a steadying breath, she sat on one end of the leather couch opposite the sheriff, who withdrew a small tablet and pen from his pocket. Luke stood by the mantel.
“Allison, did you happen to hear anything before the fire broke out last night?” the sheriff asked, his pen poised to write.
She shook her head, trying to calm the threads of concern that tangled within her. “The drive from Atlanta took longer than I expected. I called a friend after I found my room and before I’d gotten my luggage from the car. I dozed off for a few minutes. When I opened my eyes, smoke filled the room.”
“Did you see anyone hanging around the premises?”
“No one.” She thought back to the blackened hallway of the bed-and-breakfast and the lone lamp that had shadowed the registration desk. “The night manager left me a note with the key to the room.”
The sheriff jotted something on the tablet. “Who let you in?”
“No one. The front door was open when I arrived.”
“And you locked it when you went upstairs?”
“I left it the way I’d found it, Sheriff, in case someone arrived after me.”
“But it was locked when I got there,” Luke volunteered.
The sheriff glanced at Luke before turning his gaze back to Allison. “You sure you didn’t lock the door?”
“I’m quite sure.”
“I blame Cooper Wallace,” Luke said as the sheriff made another notation. “It’s been years since he’s done any repair work on the property. Faulty wiring probably caused the fire.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Now, Luke, I know you two don’t see eye to eye, but he’s got a lot on his plate with his campaign for the state senate.”
Luke let out an exasperated breath. “He’ll never get elected.”
“If you came to town a bit more often, you might realize Coop’s favored to win. ’Course, there’s no one of worth running against him.”
Wallace? The name of one of the men Allison needed to find. “Any chance he’s related to Jason Wallace?”
The sheriff nodded. “Jason’s his kid brother. Why?”
What could she say? She needed to respect Jason Wallace’s privacy, but she also needed to answer the sheriff’s question truthfully.
“I hope to talk to him later today about a test my lab is developing.”
“A test that has to do with the health of the local deer population,” Luke added.
The sheriff raised his brow. “Folks take their hunting seriously around these parts.”
Allison glanced at the magazines on the table and the mounted deer head hanging on the wall. “So it seems.”
A gust of wind whistled down the chimney, and she shivered, not so much from the cold but from the confusion she felt. The sheriff’s interrogation had turned in a new direction. “Let me assure you, I didn’t come to Sterling to cause trouble.”
The sheriff frowned. “Some might disagree.”
“Meaning?” She looked at Luke, but his eyes were veiled.
The sheriff pursed his lips. “We’ve never had an arson case before.”
Her breath caught. “Arson?”
His gaze was direct, his tone as cold as the wind. “The fire started in the hallway outside your room, and was fueled by an accelerant.”
Allison’s neck tingled and a sick feeling roiled through her stomach.
“Hate to tell you, ma’am—”
She flicked another glance at Luke, who stared into the fireplace.
“From the looks of it—”
The sheriff shook his head. His voice seemed distant.
A roar filled her ears. She swallowed down the lump that clogged her throat and tried to hear what he was saying.
“From the looks of it, I’d say someone in Sterling wants you dead.”
THREE
An arson case in Sterling.
Luke had a hard time swallowing that bit of information. Sure, he’d been quick to blame Cooper Wallace for neglecting the upkeep on the property, but that was a far cry from setting the fire on purpose.
Overcome with frustration, Luke kicked a pile of leaves and sent them scattering along the driveway as he waited for the sheriff to finish interrogating Allison in private. She’d insisted the details about her test remain confidential. Once he realized his presence was keeping her from explaining everything to the sheriff, Luke had excused himself and stepped outside.
Did she think he’d spread the information all over town? If only she knew how little he had to do with anyone from Sterling.
Luke turned at the sound of the door opening. Sheriff Treadwell hustled across the porch and down the steps. “Thanks for giving us a few minutes alone, Luke. Doubt her work in Atlanta has much bearing on the fire, but I’ll have a talk with the three blood donors she came here to question.”
“Did she tell you it might involve wasting disease?”
“Only that it was a possibility.”
“I called the game warden this morning to give him a heads-up.”
“Has he seen any sick game?”
“Not a one. Any idea who set the blaze?”
“Wish I did. Truth be told, I don’t have a clue, but like I told Allison, because of where it started, she could be the likely target.”
“Don’t rule out Cooper. I’m sure he’s made some enemies. Or maybe the arsonist was looking for someone who rented the room before Allison.”
“Now you’re thinking like a cop. I’ll talk to Cooper. I’ve already questioned the guy he has running the B and B. From what he said, business has been slow all year. The upstairs rooms haven’t been occupied for months.”
“Then why’d he put Allison up there?”
“Three of the rooms on the first floor were being remodeled. He had rented the two remaining downstairs rooms earlier in the week. When Allison e-mailed for reservations, he had no choice but to put her upstairs.”
“Did he tell anyone which room she was in?”
“Supposedly no one.”
“Cooper would have access to that information.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Now, Luke, you know Cooper’s busy with his campaign. Doubtful he’s interested in who’s staying at the B and B or which rooms have been rented out. You’re letting what happened ten years ago cloud your judgment. You gotta let it go, son. Your daddy would have been the first to tell you to forgive and forget.”
The sheriff’s words stung like alcohol on an open wound. “My father believed in justice. You know that, Vic.”
“Best sheriff Sterling’s ever had. Stepping into his shoes after his death was the hardest move I’ve ever made.”
“Folks still giving you a hard time about never charging me with the crime?”
“Folks talk about a lot of things, you know that. First thing your dad taught me when I became a deputy was that people always talk. Can’t do anything about it, so best to let it slide like water off a duck’s back.”
“But they haven’t forgotten.”
“As bad as it was, doubtful anyone will forget. But they’ve moved on to other things. Might do you good to follow their example. You’ve been holed up out here like an ostrich with your head in the sand. Time to face life again. Ten years is too long to close yourself off.”
Luke stuck out his hand. “Good advice, Vic. Fact is I’m planning to make a trip into Sterling today. There’s someone I want to see.”
The sheriff raised his brow. “You don’t need more trouble.”
“You should talk to Cooper Wallace about causing trouble.”
“You’re a friend, Luke. But that wasn’t the reason I didn’t arrest you. You know there wasn’t enough evidence. Despite our friendship, and no matter how cold that case might be, if something concrete shows up that ties you to the crime, I’ll haul you in faster than a hawk sweeping down on its prey. You understand me, son?”
The front door opened, and Luke turned to see Allison standing on the porch, her eyes wide, brow furrowed with question.
The sheriff tipped his head. “Ma’am, I’ll keep you posted on what I find out.”
He slapped Luke’s shoulder, then turned and headed to his squad car.
From the confusion Luke saw written plainly on Allison’s face, he wondered if she’d heard the sheriff’s comment. She didn’t need anything else to carry on her slender shoulders.
Talk of arson and a cold-case crime was enough to send her scurrying back to Atlanta, where, he had to admit, she’d probably be safer. After everything that had happened, Sterling was anything but safe.
Why was Luke staring at her with such a strange expression on his face? Evidently she’d interrupted a personal conversation he’d been having with the sheriff.
She would have stayed in the house, but Bett and Shelly had gone out the back door to the garden, and Allison had needed to grab her cell from the cabin and call the lab before she headed to town. Although with the medication still in her system, she wondered if she should drive. The muscle relaxers had taken the edge off the pain, but they made her feel like she was moving in slow motion. Add to the mix that she was still struggling to understand everything that had happened last night. If what Sheriff Treadwell said was true, someone had tried to kill her. Surely he was mistaken. She didn’t know anyone in Sterling who would want to do her harm.