Smoketree - By Jennifer Roberson Page 0,44

Kerry?”

“She’s only three,” Cass said quietly. “She’s got a new daddy, now—and her mama likes it that way.” She sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “I heard her tell him once, before she left, that it didn’t matter so much if he couldn’t give her the kind of life she wanted, that she’d make out. But she wasn’t about to let her little girl grow up without the sort of things she deserved.”

“Money,” I said.

“Money,” Cass agreed. “Abby raided their joint account, got even more through the courts, then married a guy making better than two hundred grand a year, and that’s not counting endorsements. Harper couldn’t compete with that. I don’t think he’d want to, for Abby—but he just might for Kerry.” There it was. Motive. The sort of motive that could drive even a man with integrity into extortion, sabotage, scare tactics. And I didn’t really blame him.

“Smoketree’s worth a lot of money,” I said quietly.

Cass looked at me oddly a moment. “Of course it is, or those land developers wouldn’t be after it. I mean, look at the location. There’s Snow Crest just over the hill, plus all this land smack in the middle of government acreage. Condominiums would go for big bucks. Someone would stand to make a lot of money.”

“So would Nathan, if he sold.” And Harper. But I didn’t say it.

“Of course,” she agreed. “I don’t doubt we’re talking millions, with the price of land these days.”

Millions. Enough to buy time with a little girl?

Maybe. And it made it all the sadder.

Chapter Eleven

The jarring clangor of a triangle jerked me out of a deep sleep. I sat bolt upright, completely disoriented. Not long after dinner I had gone to bed and slept; the clock read one in the morning.

I waited for the upside down sensation of sudden waking to subside. The clanging continued, punctuated by barking dogs. I seriously considered ignoring it all, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep again until I found out what was going on.

But it was the panicked whinnying of a terrified horse that cut through my thoughts like a clarion.

Fire. Again? I dressed hurriedly, jamming feet into bedroom slippers and yanking my jacket on over a sweater and jeans. As I closed my cabin door I fully expected to see leaping flames against the darkness, but there was nothing. Nothing save the continued ringing and the whinnying of a horse.

Cass stood on the porch, white-faced and grim in the electric lighting as she banged on the triangle with a metal wand. I climbed the wide steps next to Elliot Fitch. The fringe of his hair stood up in spikes and his eyes were decidedly fuzzy behind his glasses. He wore a green terrycloth robe, tying and retying the belt as if it gave him something to concentrate on. Francesca came up behind him, clad in a creamy silk dressing-gown.

“Can you stop the noise?” Francesca asked.

“Once everyone is here,” Cass agreed. “Harper said to make certain everyone came.”

Lenore Oliver mounted the steps with her husband and stood close to him, one hand set against her forehead to block the yellow light. She wore a heavy caftan, pale green and flowing. Oliver himself was still fully dressed and fully alert, but his eyes narrowed in reaction to the incessant clanging. “We’re all here now,” Lenore said pointedly.

“No,” Cass said flatly. “Mr. Rafferty isn’t here.”

“I’m here.” He melted out of the darkness. He wore brown trousers and a white pajama top, half-hidden beneath a loose burgundy robe. He had left off the horn-rims, and his dark eyes were keenly observant. Research, I thought.

“What is all of this about?” Lenore demanded in the tone of a petulant child.

“Brandon isn’t here yet,” I said suddenly.

But he was. He joined the group a moment later, also fully clothed. He frowned as he moved next to me and rested one hand against my waist. “What’s up?”

Cass turned and faced the small group. She was tight-lipped and pale, speaking in a flat, controlled voice. “The police have already been called, but Harper would like you to go to the pens. Now, please.”

Lenore stiffened at the tone of command. Oliver frowned heavily. “Just what is the reason for this, Miss Reynolds? Why the police? And why drag all of us out in the middle of the night if it is a police matter?”

Cass was not intimidated by John Oliver. “Harper told me to gather all of you together. I’ve done that much. Now you’re to go to the