“Who do you think closes up every night? And there’s no if—someone fired at me!”
So much for hoping they could avoid fireworks. Little Miss Independent hadn’t changed one whit, still packed with dynamite in her five-foot-three frame. Sam raked his fingers through his hair as another SUV with flashing blue lights pulled into Mount Locust then turned on the same road Clayton had taken. Sam caught the logo on the side of the door when it rounded the curve. He spoke into his mic. “Clayton, you have an Adams County deputy on your tail for backup. I’m staying here with Ranger Winters.”
“Roger that,” Clayton said.
Sam turned to the woman he’d planned to marry at one time. “Tell me what happened.”
She stared at him briefly, hurt in her eyes, then she toed her sandal in the dirt, unearthing a rock. “I’m not sure. After dinner I realized I’d left a report here and came back to retrieve it.”
Which explained why she wasn’t in uniform. “So, you forgot the gate key and walked to the visitor center.”
“Yes. Then as I was locking up, I heard a backhoe. Thought it might be the maintenance supervisor or even the teenagers that had been messing around earlier.”
He listened as she filled him in about the teenage boys she’d caught around the slave cemetery and then the shots fired. He doubted the boys would have shot at her.
“The bullet plowed into the post where I’d been standing,” Emma said.
“And you didn’t see anyone?”
She shook her head. “But I think it was a man.”
“Why’s that?”
“The way he tromped through the woods. I think it was just one person, and it sounded like someone heavier than the boys who were here earlier.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Explain to me why you decided to investigate this noise? Most people would have called 911 and let us handle it.”
Tension crackled between them as her eyes narrowed. Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. He thought she might explode, but instead she blew out a hard breath.
“Like I said, I thought it was the maintenance supervisor at first,” she said, her voice in control mode, enunciating each word. “Then I thought it might be the teenagers, and I figured I could handle them since we’d talked earlier. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know this place inside and out. I could walk every path around here blindfolded.”
He bet that was true. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Well, you did.”
He needed to start over, instill a little confidence between them. “Are you up to walking to the inn? Maybe we can find that bullet.”
Emma eyed him suspiciously. “Won’t that contaminate the crime scene?”
“We’ll go the long way around, through the gate to the visitor center, and then up to the inn.” That way they wouldn’t disturb anything in the wooded area between the tractor shed and the slave cemetery. “And could we start over? We seem to have gotten off to a rough start.”
When she didn’t shoot him down immediately, he stuck out his hand. “Hello, I’m District Ranger Samuel Ryker, and I apologize for being heavy-handed. I understand you’ve had a little problem here tonight, Ranger Winters.”
Her mouth twitched. “I’d say it was more than a ‘little’ problem.”
“Right.”
Indecision played on her face, and then she took his hand, gripping it firmly. He hadn’t expected the electricity that her touch brought. “Thank you, Ranger Winters, for being willing to start over.”
“We can try starting over,” she said dryly. “And you can call me Emma.”
“Probably should stay with Ranger Winters for now,” he said, swallowing a smile.
She saluted. “Why would anyone mess with the equipment, anyway, Mr. District Ranger?”
“They may have been trying to steal it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. The vehicle I heard leaving didn’t have a trailer attached to it.”
“Good point. Why don’t we check out the inn?”
They walked the gravel road in silence, their past hovering overhead like a storm cloud pregnant with water. Sam wasn’t one to avoid a problem, especially with someone he would come in contact with on a regular basis. “Have you heard from Ryan?” he asked, breaking the quiet.
A small gasp came from Emma, and she stumbled. Sam grabbed for her, but she brushed his hand away. “I don’t need your help.” She lifted her chin. “And no, I haven’t heard from my brother since the night you left him on his own.”
Her accusation hit him like a 9mm slug. Bad question and even worse answer. How could one night have changed so many lives? He’d hoped her twin brother had been in contact with the family.
But he wasn’t apologizing. Not again. His apology hadn’t done any good ten years ago when Emma broke their engagement, and he doubted it’d do any good now. Not that Sam had anything to apologize for. Ryan had been a grown man, responsible for his own choices. But if what almost everyone believed at the time he disappeared was true, it shouldn’t surprise Sam that Emma’s brother hadn’t contacted anyone.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “But he didn’t kill that girl.”
3
Before Sam could respond, another siren drew his attention toward the road. A vehicle approached on the Trace from the north, lights flashing and siren blaring. It turned into Mount Locust and pulled up to the gate where they stood. He shaded his eyes against the glare from the headlights.
The driver doused his lights, and after killing the engine, a man climbed out of the vehicle. He was glad to see the Adams County sheriff. Sam’s first order of business after he took over the district office had been to introduce himself to the Purple Heart recipient and first African American to be elected sheriff in Adams County since Reconstruction. Rawlings hitched his belt and then strode toward them. When he was close enough, Sam extended his hand. “Good to see you again, Sheriff, although I’m a little surprised.”
The sheriff’s hand gripped his. “I wasn’t far away when I heard the call and thought you might need help. And just call me Nate. Still getting used to being called Sheriff.”
Sam nodded. Rawlings, who was a good ten years older than Sam’s thirty-one, had won the November election but had taken office only two weeks ago, moving from chief deputy to the top job. “Thanks for sending a deputy to back up Clayton.”
“No problem.” Nate’s gaze slid to Emma and he smiled. “You okay?”
“Better than I was,” she said with a shiver.
“Fill me in.” He made no comment until she finished explaining what had happened. “Do you often come here after dark?”
“It’s dark when I lock up,” she said, her voice testy.
Nate palmed his hands. “Whoa!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, making a face. “I didn’t mean to snap, but I’m used to it being dark when I leave, so I didn’t think anything about returning to pick up a file I needed.”
Nate dipped his head. “I understand. So, unless someone was following you, they wouldn’t have expected you to be here.”